Cissy saw that the offer was affectionate and earnest, and came from the depths of a noble heart, so she accepted it most gladly.
The days came and went, until it was almost two weeks since Geraldine's elopement.
They had looked every day for a letter from her, telling them where she was, and perhaps pleading for pardon, and to be permitted to see her mother again.
But not a line was received from the truant.
"She is cruel, heartless! her father's child, not mine," cried poor Mrs. Fitzgerald, trying to steel her heart against the truant.
But one cold, snowy day toward the last of February—could they ever forget that day—a card was brought to the lady in her boudoir.
She glanced at it, and turned deadly pale.
The card bore a name she had reason to hate.
Harry Hawthorne.