She understood that she had been horribly deceived, that Geraldine had not gone away to marry her lover, but had been entrapped into some terrible fate.
The fear of Clifford Standish's vengeance for the scorn she had heaped on him pierced her heart like a knife-thrust.
For two weeks Geraldine had been missing.
And no search had been made, because it was believed that she was safe and happy with her heart's choice, Harry Hawthorne.
But, instead, she had become the victim of a terrible doom.
The horror of her apprehensions overcame the mother's heart, and she fell forward in a heavy swoon.
When consciousness returned, she found herself lying flat on a couch, with Cissy bathing her forehead, and Hawthorne her hands, with eau de cologne.
She felt very weak and helpless, but as consciousness returned to her she groaned despairingly.
Hawthorne gave her a look of tender sympathy, and said: