Sophie's Confession

Sophie did not stay long in the invalid's room after the awakening they
had undergone with respect to one another. She went instinctively to her
father's study, and, entering the open door, kissed the old man ere he
was well aware of her presence. He took her affectionately upon his
knee, and hugged her up to him with homely tenderness.

"My precious little daughter!" quoth he; "what would your old father do
without you?"

"Am I so much to you, papa?" asked she, with her cheek resting upon his
shoulder.

"Very much--very much, Sophie: too much, perhaps; for I don't see how I
could bear to lose you."

"Do you mean to have me die, papa?"

"How is your sick boy getting along?" returned the professor, clearing
his throat, and not seeming to hear his daughter's words.

Sophie caught a breath, and paled a little at the thought of the news
she had to tell about the sick boy. Her father had just told her she was
precious to him, and she felt that to be married might involve a
separation virtually as complete as that of death, and perhaps harder to
bear. But, again, she needed his sympathy and approval: and, sooner or
later, he must hear the truth. She was not, perhaps, aware that
etiquette should have closed her lips upon the subject until after
Bressant had spoken to the professor; at all events, she had no
intention of delegating or postponing her confidence.

"He seemed quite well when I left him. I have been having a--talk with
him, papa."