“It may be so, love,” said Eastworth.
“And you know that if our engagement were to last ten years, or twenty, and if, in the meantime, you should travel to the uttermost ends of the earth, and I should never see or hear from you, I should still be true to you—yes! true as truth!”
“I know it, my only love! And I shall soon put your truth to a terrible test!”
“Put it to any test! to any!” exclaimed Erminie, rashly, in her great faith.
CHAPTER XIX.
ANOTHER LOVE CHASE.
On the morning succeeding the conversation related at the close of the last chapter, Erminie was seated at work in her own room, and singing as she sewed, when the housemaid entered and laid a card before her.
“‘Vittorio Corsoni,’ our Italian professor! Where is he, Catherine?” inquired Erminie, with her eyes on the bit of enameled pasteboard that bore the name she read.
“I showed him into the drawing-room, miss; which he says he would very much like to see you for a few minutes, if so be you can do him the honor,” replied the girl.
“Certainly, Catherine—our ex-master! I will go at once,” said the minister’s daughter, rising.
Always dressed with exquisite neatness, Erminie had no occasion to keep her visitor waiting. She followed the maid down the stairs, and passed into the drawing-room.