"And you're engaged to that splendid Hawthorne—how charming! Oh, you needn't blush! He told my husband this morning, and we all hurried off to wish you joy," cried volatile Mrs. Stansbury.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
"OH, GERALDINE, I'LL HAVE TO TELL YOU MY GUARDED SECRET!"
"I have a secret sorrow here—
A grief I'll ne'er impart;
It heaves no sigh, it sheds no tear,
But it consumes my heart."
At last the Stansburys were gone, but then some of the girls from O'Neill's dropped in. It was a merry, happy day to Geraldine, with but one shadow on its brightness—the absence of Hawthorne.
At every knock she started up, all blissful, blushing confusion, thinking that surely this time it was he, but each time she was doomed to a sad disappointment.
But from the constant ringing of fire alarms through the day she easily guessed what kept him from her side.
But when the afternoon was far spent, and the sunlight grew pale and cold, there was a masculine step at the door that made her heart throb quickly again with eager hope as she sprang to open it, thinking: