“It was neither of these. It was something far more—Where are you going, Erminie?” Alberta suddenly broke off in the middle of her sentence to ask of her fair companion, who had risen and was walking away.
“I am going out of hearing of a secret that my friend might not like me to know,” answered the true-hearted girl, leaving Alberta to tell Britomarte’s mystery to her only willing listener.
CHAPTER II.
THE MAN-HATER’S LOVER.
Erminie sauntered slowly down the winding footpath leading through the magnolia grove to the acacia avenue, on the banks of the river. She had not gone far when, a few paces in advance of her she saw Britomarte walking alone.
Not wishing to intrude on the amazon in her dark hour, Erminie was turning away, when Britomarte by some means became aware of her presence, and looked back with an expression of ineffable tenderness, and beckoned her to approach.
The gentle girl went to the brilliant amazon’s side, and was encircled by her arm.
“Thanks for letting me come, dear Britomarte,” she murmured, lifting her soft, hazel eyes to meet the gaze of the splendid dark-gray orbs that were shining down upon her.
“My bonny love, I never wish to avoid you. In my darkest hour you are ever welcome to me,” answered the man-hater, in the soft tone and with the sweet smile she ever used in addressing this best-beloved of her soul.
“Thank you! Thank you, dearest Britomarte!” Erminie exclaimed, kissing the hand of her friend. But, then growing grave, she added, “Oh, my dearest love, I am so sorry you are such an intense man-hater! Your wholesale hatred makes you so unjust! It is the one dark spot on the bright disc of your clear, warm, strong, sunlike nature! All men are not brutes, dearest Britomarte.”
“Then they are imbeciles! There is but one division.”