it as a fan, keeping up a light tattoo with one foot upon the plank
flooring. Her face was glowing with her four-mile walk in the hot sun,
but she showed no signs of weariness. The position in which she stood
was easy and graceful, but there was nothing statuesque or imposing
about it; it was evident that at the very next instant she might shift
into another equally as happy. Her eyes wandered from one object to
another with the absence of concentration of one whose mind is not fixed
upon any thing in particular. From the letter between the professor's
finger and thumb, they traveled upward to his thoughtful countenance;
thence took a leap to the decrepit water-spout which depended weakly
from the corner of the balcony-roof, and thence again ascended to a
great, solid, white cloud, with turreted outline clear against the blue,
which was slowly sliding across the sky from the westward, and
threatened soon to cut off the afternoon sunshine.

The professor restlessly altered the position of his legs, thereby
drawing his daughter's attention once more to himself. Thinking she had
waited as long as was requisite for the maintenance of her dignity as a
non-inquisitive person, she transferred herself lightly to the arm of
her father's chair, grasping his beard in her plump, slender hand, and
turned his face up toward hers.

"Well, papa! aren't you going to tell what the news is? Is it nice?"

"Very nice!" said papa, taking her irreverent hand into his own, and
keeping it there. "At least you will think so," he added, looking half
playful and half wistful.

Cornelia brought her lips into a pout, all ready to say, "what?" but did
not say it, and gazed at her father with round, interrogating eyes.