How strange is love when it enters the heart as a guest, shutting out interest in everything else—strange, subtle, sweet, and absorbingly selfish.
Geraldine forgot how well she had liked the actor, and how she had quarreled with Cissy for his sake.
His attentions were repugnant to her now, and she wished ardently to be rid of him.
But her tender, girlish heart reproached her for her fickleness, and she thought it would seem ungrateful to snub him now.
So she only smiled at him plaintively, assuming an interest she did not feel.
Bending across the counter, he whispered, so that Cissy could not hear:
"I beg your pardon, but did your new admirer—did he call last night?"
"No-o," faltered the girl, and she could hardly keep the tears from her eyes.
"Why, that is strange. What prevented him from keeping his engagement?"
"I do not know."