"What else do you suppose I expected, sir ?" Bressant turned over on his side, and regarded him with some curiosity.
"Do all people who love each other, or because they love each other, marry ?" demanded he.
For a moment, the professor seemed to suspect some latent satire in this question; but the young man's face convinced him to the contrary.
"In many marriages, there's little love--true love--on either side; that's certain," said he, passing his hand down his face, and looking grave.

"But marriage was ordained for none but lovers." "The reason I want to be married to Sophie is because I love her so much I couldn't live without her," resumed Bressant, as if stating some unusual circumstance.
"Humph!" ejaculated the professor, partly amused and partly puzzled.
Bressant rubbed his forehead, and fingered his beard awhile, and then continued: "We've been reading poetry lately, and romances, and such things.

I used to think they were nonsense--good for nothing; because they came out so beautifully, and represented love to be so great an element in the world.

But now I see they were not good enough; they are much below the truth; I mean to write poetry and romances myself!" This tickled Professor Valeyon so much, that he burst out in a most genuine laugh.

The intellectual animal of two or three months before seemed to have laid aside all claims to what his brain had won for him, and to be beginning existence over again with a new object and new materials.