“Oh, I hope that is Britomarte. Did she say she would come early?” inquired Erminie.
“She said she would come this morning—she did not specify the hour,” answered Justin, rising to open the drawing-room door.
Britomarte it was, for Justin met her on the threshold, in the act of being ushered in by Uncle Bob, the old servant of Elfie, who also found a home at the parsonage.
Justin warmly welcomed Miss Conyers, but was cut short in his demonstrations by Erminie, who flew to meet her friend, and fell weeping for joy on Britomarte’s bosom.
“How pale you are, my darling. You have suffered much since I saw you last,” said Miss Conyers, tenderly caressing Erminie.
“Oh, much! much! How much you do not know or guess. But it is all over now, dear Britomarte, quite over, now that I see you and Justin safe, and all is well, now, very well, since the tide of war has turned, and the invaders are flying before our victorious army,” she answered, smiling through her tears.
“And do you know what they are saying outside, my darling?” inquired Miss Conyers, brightly glancing back her smile.
“No! what?” eagerly demanded Erminie.
“Haven’t you been out this morning, Justin?” inquired Miss Conyers, turning to Mr. Rosenthal.
“No—why?”