She shook her head, and laughed, gayly:
"Do not be too sure. You know you have given me until Sunday night to decide."
"But that is not far off—only twenty-four hours," he said, with a smile, for he felt sure of victory. As she made no reply, he continued:
"I have made a charming invitation for you for Sunday afternoon. Some of the leading members of our company are going to skate in the park to-morrow—you know this cold snap has frozen the lake beautifully—and they want me to bring you. Will you come?"
"Yes," replied Geraldine, quickly, glad of a diversion for Sunday afternoon, so that she need not mope alone with her miserable thoughts of how Harry Hawthorne had flirted with her for his own amusement.
For she had begun to lose faith in her handsome lover now. The leaven of Cissy's words had worked steadily in her mind.
And a cruel self-shame that she had given her love in vain was at war with the tenderness of her heart.
"Thank you. I am so glad you will go. I know you will like the trip and the company," he said; then, in a changed tone: "By the way, did that fireman ever keep his promise to call on you?"
"No," she answered, carelessly.
"Have you heard anything about him?"