comprehend Bressant's attitude, and
therefore admired him all the more. What she could not understand in him
was, of course, beyond her scope.

"You may think nothing of it, but I know I--I know we do--I can't say
what I want to, and I'm not going to try any more; but I'm sure you
know--or, at least, you'll find out some time--in some other way, you
know."

Bressant could not hear all this, nor would he have known what it meant,
if he had; but he could see that Cornelia was kindly disposed toward
him, and was conscious of great pleasure in looking at her, and thought,
if she were to touch him, he would get well. He said nothing, however,
and presently his bodily pain caused him to sigh and close his eyes
wearily. Cornelia immediately kissed her soft fingers to him twice, and
then vanished from the room, looking more like a blush than a tea rose.
Before long she returned with the sick man's breakfast on a tray.

"Do you like to be nursed?" asked she, as she put the tray on a table,
and moved it up to the bedside.

"No!" said Bressant, emphatically, and with an intonation of great
surprise.

"Oh! why not?" faltered Cornelia, quite taken aback.

"I hate disabled people; they're monstrosities, and had better not be at
all. I wouldn't nurse them."

"You think there's no pleasure in doing things for people who cannot
help themselves?" demanded Cornelia, indignantly.

"There can be no pleasure in nursing," reiterated he. "It might be very
pleasant to be nursed--by any one who is beautiful--if one did not need
the nursing!"

Cornelia was becoming so accustomed to Bressant's undisguised manners
that she forgot to be disturbed by this guileless compliment. Many hours
afterward, when she was alone in her chamber, the words recurred to her,
devoid of the version his manner had given them, and then they brought
the blood gently to her cheeks.

"You're very foolish," said she, as she poured out some tea, and cut up
a mutton-chop into mouthfuls. "Now, you have to drink this tea, though
you wouldn't the last time I poured you out a cup; and I'll give you
your chop. Open your mouth."

So the athlete of the day before was obliged to submit to having his
tea-cup carried to his lips and tipped for him by a woman, and the chop
administered bit by bit on a fork. It was very degrading; but once in a
while Cornelia accidentally touched him, or her face, lit up by interest
in her occupation, came so near his own that he felt warm