“Britomarte? I read a very strange account of her having been shipwrecked upon a desert island in the Indian Ocean, and rescued thence by one of your ships of war. Was it true?”
“It was all true—every word of it,” said Erminie.
“Why do you say ‘your’? Why do you not say our ships of war, since you have taken the oath of allegiance in good faith, and are really one of us?” dryly questioned Elfie.
“Force of habit, I repeat,” replied Alberta.
“Oh, Elfie! Elfie! do mind what you are saying!” pleaded Erminie.
“Don’t distress yourself, Minie! She means well, but she mistakes me; that is all,” said Alberta, resignedly.
The tea service was brought in and arranged upon the neat table. And the three young women seated themselves at it.
Erminie presided over the urn.
“Do you know, Erminie, that this is the first blessed cup of tea that I have tasted for more than a year?” said Alberta, as she raised the fragrant Oolong to her lips.
“Oh! what a privation! but you had coffee?” said Erminie.