"Clifford Standish's story of his rich mother has always been his trump card in social life. I have often been secretly disgusted at hearing him tell it to new acquaintances."
"He probably sets a very low estimate on his own merits when he has to resort to such silly boasting to curry favor," returned her mother, adding: "I have met people of his stamp before, and, as a rule, their statements were untruthful. I dare say, if the facts were known, the fellow's mother takes in washing or goes out scrubbing."
"Thank Heaven, I am rid of him at last! I do not believe he will ever dare to cross my path again since finding out that I have such a strong defender in my noble mother," declared Geraldine, gladly, for she did not yet comprehend with what an evil nature she had to deal.
Believing herself rid of Clifford Standish forever, her longing thoughts returned to the true lover from whom she had been so cruelly torn.
"Oh, my love! my love! I cannot give you up," she thought, tenderly, and after a moment's hesitancy she cried:
"Oh, mamma, you said just now that a person may be high-toned even though poor, and it made me think of my lover Harry. If you should meet him, mamma, not knowing his obscure station, you would think him not less than princely. He has the bearing, the speech, and the heart of a gentleman—of one of nature's noblemen. Then why should you despise him for his poverty?"
Mrs. Fitzgerald's fair brow clouded with annoyance at her daughter's words and she said, quickly:
"I do not despise him for his poverty—I do not despise him at all. I said that you could not marry him because almost from your cradle you have been promised to another."
"What nonsense!" said the girl, petulantly, to herself but she asked, with seeming calmness:
"To whom, mamma?"