The young Italian professor was seated, leaning back in one of the easy chairs. He looked haggard and careworn, but quite as handsome and interesting as ever, with his long, curling black hair, large, luminous, dark eyes, and slight and elegant form.
Erminie walked straight toward him. She liked the young Italian, who was, indeed, a great favorite with all ladies. He arose to meet her.
“I am very, very glad to see you, signior,” she said, cordially holding out her hands.
He bowed over them as he took them.
“I called to-day, Miss Rosenthal, to pay my respects to yourself and your learned father, and also to make some inquiries after——” His voice faltered and broke down, and then, after an inward struggle for composure, he added, huskily—“one who is infinitely dearer to me than my own soul!”
Erminie pitied this lover. How could she help it? She said, gently:
“After Alberta Goldsborough?”
“Yes, my dear Miss Rosenthal. I have heard no word of her since our violent separation in the latter part of September, and this is January. I have used every means to soften the hearts of her parents, but all in vain! I have written them many letters, but they have been returned to me unopened. I have besieged their house in Richmond, but have always been denied admittance, and once I have been threatened with the police! I, a Corsoni! But, in the pursuit of my dear love, I would suffer any ignominy that would not touch my honor!”
“I will tell you all about her. I see no reason in the world why you should not know. Alberta is a boarder at the Convent of the Visitation.”
“Thanks! a thousand thanks! It is much to know where she is. I can at least walk outside the walls and gaze up to the windows in the hope of seeing my queen love. Perhaps I may be permitted to write to her. Perhaps I may have the divine happiness of being allowed to call on her!” exclaimed the excitable Italian, springing up.