Colonel Eastworth came in good time. Erminie’s quick ears were the first to catch the sound of the carriage wheels as they turned into the gate and rolled up the avenue toward the house.
Dr. Rosenthal himself went out to receive the guest and show him up to his rooms.
Erminie, who had been so very busy in preparing for him, was now seized with a strange timidity, which prevented her from going forth to welcome him. But she rang for the housemaid to show Colonel Eastworth’s servant where to carry his master’s trunk, and then she went back to the library and sat down to wait until her father should return with her lover.
In a few minutes they came downstairs and entered the room.
Erminie half arose to receive her betrothed. She saw his look of appreciation and approbation as he glanced around the room before his eye fell upon herself, and he advanced toward her.
“This looks like a little paradise, after the pandemonium in which I have lately existed. A paradise, of which my lady is the Peri,” he murmured, in a low voice, as he lifted her hand, and, bowing over it, pressed it to his lips.
Erminie blushed beautifully and murmured something in reply, to the effect that she hoped he would be happy with them.
“Humph!” thought the good minister to himself—“that is all very high-toned, I dare say; but, for my part, I had rather seen him kiss her openly and heartily, as an honest sweetheart and betrothed husband should! but, then, very likely he is right and I am an old-fashioned fogy!”
“Are you ready for tea, papa, dear?” inquired Erminie, with her hand upon the bell.
“Yes, pet—quite; and so is Eastworth. Have it in directly.”