Britomarte possessed a few jewels of value. These she had never worn or shown. She now took them to a jeweler on Pennsylvania avenue, and sold them for enough to defray her expenses to the city from whose port the missionary company was to sail.
On arriving at that city, she found a cheap boarding-house, and then sought out the secretary of the Board of Foreign Missions, and offered her services to go as teacher with the company they were about to send to Farther India.
The secretary required testimonials, which Britomarte immediately submitted. And then, after a little business and investigation, her services were accepted.
Miss Conyers then devoted all her time and attention to making preparations for a sea voyage that was to last several months.
The missionaries were to sail on the first of October, in the great East Indiaman, Sultana, bound from Boston to Calcutta; but their destination was Cambodia.
When her preparations were completed, Britomarte wrote to her friend Erminie, informing her of all the particulars of the projected mission, and asking her for the last news of their own fellow-graduates.
Quickly as the post could return, Miss Conyers received an answer from the affectionate girl.
And now that the missionary measure seemed irrevocable, Erminie did not distress her friend by any vain lamentations over her own loss. Little womanlike, she praised, glorified, and rejoiced over her friend, and bade her Godspeed. She wrote that her brother Justin had just been ordained a minister of the Gospel, and that he was to leave them soon for distant duty; but she did not say where he was going.
“So, then, our paths diverge forever, thank Heaven!” exclaimed the man-hater, as she read this part of the letter, but, indeed, her heaving bosom, and quivering lips, and tearful eyes did not look very much like thankfulness.
Erminie farther stated that Colonel Eastworth had taken apartments at a first-class hotel in the city, with the intention of passing the ensuing winter there.