Locked Up

Bressant's health was now sufficiently established to warrant his moving
back to Abbie's. Not that he was particularly anxious to go, but he had
no pretext for staying, and his engagement to Sophie was a reason in
etiquette why he should not. Accordingly, about a week after Cornelia's
arrival, such of his books and other property as had been sent to him
from the boarding-house were packed in a box, which was hoisted in to
the back of the wagon; he and Professor Valeyon mounted the seat, and,
with Dolly between the shafts, they set out for the village.

"I suppose you remember a talk I had with you the first evening you came
here?" said the old gentleman, as they turned the corner in the road.
"Told you it would be work enough for a churchful of missionaries to
make any thing out of you, in the way of a minister, and so on?"

"Very well; I remember the whole conversation," said Bressant, pushing
up his beard into his mouth and biting it.

"Thanks to God--I can't take any credit to myself--you've been more
changed than I ever expected to see you. You've found your heart and how
to use it. That goes further toward fitting you for the ministry than
all the divinity-books ever printed."

Bressant's hankering after the ministerial life was not so strong as it
once had been; but he said nothing.

"You'll need means of support when you're married," resumed the
professor. "A few months' hard study will qualify you to take charge of
a parish. The next parish to this will be vacant before next spring. If
I apply for it now, I may be able to give it you, with your wife, as a
New-Year's gift."