The look, the air that frets thy sight
May be a token that below
The soul has closed in deadly fight
With some infernal fiery foe,
Whose glances would scorch thy smiling grace,
And cast the shuddering on thy face!—A. A. Proctor.
Erminie, in the midst of all her distress about Alberta, felt also a growing anxiety concerning Britomarte.
Another day was passing, and Miss Conyers had not made her appearance at the parsonage.
Erminie feared that she was ill, and longed to go to her boarding-house to see her, but dared not to leave home while so doubtful a guest as the guerrilla’s wife was under her roof, and while she was looking for the arrival of her pastor to consult with him as to what should be done in the case of Alberta.
It is true that she might have sent a messenger to inquire after Britomarte, but in the momentary expectation of Dr. Sales’ call, she hoped to get the interview over in time to visit her friend in person. She also hoped that Britomarte herself might make her appearance.