"I should think," said she, in a modestly suggestive manner, keeping her
eyes busy with her work, "that it would be less embarrassing at a party
than anywhere. You know everybody expects to say and hear nothing but
nonsense, and there isn't a great deal said even of that. And you're
obliged to talk loud, at any rate, on account of the music and noise."
"Well, you may be right," admitted Cornelia, who certainly did take her
sister's opposition with admirable good-nature. "And I was thinking,
Sophie, perhaps if they are not very deaf indeed, you know they might
get so used to the sound of one's voice as to hear it even when it
wasn't so much raised."
"Why, certainly!" assented Sophie; "to some kinds of voices, at any
rate; probably to a woman's more easily than to a man's. Is Mr. Bressant
very deaf, Neelie?"
Cornelia glanced quickly at her sister, but was reassured by the grave
composure of her aspect. Nevertheless, she was deeply engrossed in her
new dress as she made reply.
"Oh! no. Well, not so very; I can hardly tell, though, I've spoken to
him so little. He's rather quick at catching your meaning, sometimes, I
think."
"Do you think he's a man who would get married?"
"Oh! I don't believe he'll ever be married," said Cornelia, and blushed,
she scarce knew why. "No woman would marry him."
"Is he so disagreeable?"
Cornelia moved her shoulders in a little shudder. "Oh, not that exactly;
but he's so cold and bright and hard. And he isn't always that way,
either. There are times when he's so strange--so different! I don't
believe he understands himself then. There seems to be a wild fire in
him, that once in a while blazes up, and scorches and frightens him as
well as other people."