“Not one word.”
“Have you the least idea of what she intends to do in Baltimore?”
“Not the least. She went away so suddenly that I hadn’t time to question her much, even if she would have submitted to be questioned. Dear me, it all passed like a flash of lightning. Before I could realize that she was going, she was gone!” said the widow. Then, after a short pause, she inquired: “Have you any suspicion what she intends to do, Miss Rosenthal?”
“Indeed no. I wish to Heaven I had!” answered Erminie, mournfully.
And then, finding that she could learn no more to throw light on the mystery of Britomarte’s departure, she arose, thanked the widow for the information given, and left the house.
On reaching the parsonage, Erminie found luncheon ready, and Elfie waiting for her.
“Minie,” said that impatient young lady, “if you are of the heavens, heavenly, and can live without eating, I’ll have you know that I’m ‘of the earth, earthy,’ and can’t do without victuals. It was seven o’clock when we breakfasted, and now it is three.”
“My dearest Elfie, always eat when you are hungry, and don’t wait for me. I have been to Britomarte’s boarding house,” said Erminie.
“Yes, I know, and found her all right, I dare say.”
“I found her place empty. She has left!”