“You—you here! Where did you drop from? When did you come? Oh! but I am so glad to see you; or I should be so, if I could feel glad of anything now,” eagerly yet cautiously exclaimed Elfie, in half suppressed excitement and a half smothered voice.
“I came last from Baltimore. I got here at two o’clock this afternoon,” whispered Miss Conyers.
“At two o’clock! That was just when I laid down. Why didn’t they call me?”
“We would not permit you to be disturbed,” said Britomarte.
“My dear Elfie,” said Justin, “Miss Conyers has arrived off a long and dusty journey, and needs hospitable attentions of all sorts. May I ask you to take my dear sister’s place as hostess, and do the honors of the house to her?”
“Of course, of course,” hurriedly whispered Elfie; and she beckoned Britomarte, who followed her from the room.
First Elfie gave orders to old Frederica to prepare a light repast for the guest. And then she led Britomarte to a chamber up stairs, where she supplied her with water, towels, and a complete change of clothes.
And afterwards, while Miss Conyers sat drinking tea, she poured into her ear the history of her strange meeting with Goldsborough in the hospital, and his tragic death.
Much of this Britomarte had heard before, by letters from Erminie; but now she heard for the first time the full particulars of the affair.
Elfie then talked of Erminie and her fatal devotion to the sufferers in the fever wards of the hospital, and the martyrdom in which that devotion was about to end. And at that point she burst into tears.