Pretty Geraldine, the New York Salesgirl; or, Wedded to Her Choice

He waited impatiently for the letter from Miss Errol, planning the kidnaping but it did not come.

The miserable woman, although distracted by fears for her own safety, had not yet brought herself to the point of consenting to become a party to Geraldine's ruin.

Every impulse in her woman's nature cried out against doing such a cruel wrong to the fair young girl she admired so much.

So she delayed replying to his letter, until, angered by her delay, he wrote again:

"You have not replied to my letter. Of course you know the terrible risk you run by your silence. But I will give you one more chance.

"Meet me at the nearest corner just after dark this evening, and I will unfold to you my plans, in which you must co-operate.

    C. S."

CHAPTER XLIX.

ONLY PRIDE

"I have loved thee—fondly loved thee!
No one but God can know
The struggle and the agony
It cost to let thee go.
But woman's pride usurps my heart,
And surges to my brow.
To see thy cold indifference!
We must be strangers now."

    Francis S. Smith.
"Will no answer ever come?" sighed Geraldine, as she watched the papers, day after day, for an answer to her personal.

"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick," it is said, and her suspense was cruel and torturing. Not even Cissy's presence could assuage her pain, although it was borne in torturing silence.

One morning, while she was searching the newspaper columns, as usual, her eyes gleamed with a sudden light of pleasure, and she looked up at Cissy, exclaiming:

"Only think, dear—the Clemens Company will begin a week's engagement in Chicago to-morrow evening."

The quick color flew to Cissy's face, but she nodded with apparent indifference.

Geraldine continued:

"They will play 'Laurel Vane.' Oh, do you remember the night in New York when I played it, Cissy, and our terrible interruption by the appearance of the men who arrested Mr. Standish? I was very unhappy that night, for I believed that Harry Hawthorne had married Daisy Odell, as that wretch declared. Oh! how it all comes back to me now—my jealous misery when I stood at the wings watching you all in Mrs. Stansbury's box! But, oh, the happiness that came to me later, when I learned the real truth!"

She leaned her fair head down on Cissy's shoulder, and sighed:

"No girl ever loved a man as fondly as I love my darling Harry, and the mystery of his fate is breaking my heart."

Mrs. Fitzgerald entered the library at that moment, and Geraldine looked up quickly, saying:

"Mamma, cannot we have a box at the theatre to-morrow night? There is a play that I specially wish to see."

"Certainly, my dear, if I can find you some lady to chaperon you and Cissy. You know I cannot accompany you, because of my deep mourning."

The box was secured, and a chaperon found in the person of a very old lady, a distant relative of the Fitzgeralds, who had fallen into comparative poverty, but who would enjoy the outing all the more since she could not well afford to give herself the pleasure of a box, and was too proud to use a low-priced seat.

The next evening found the three in their box at the Columbia—Mrs. Germyn, the old lady, looking the chaperon to the life in her black velvet and point lace, set off by her silvery puffs of hair. The two young girls—Geraldine in silvery-blue brocade and pearls, Cissy in white, with gold ornaments and flowers—were the cynosure of all eyes. Not a face in the crowded and fashionable audience could compare with theirs in beauty.

When the curtain rose on the first act, it was not long before the company discovered Geraldine and Cissy in the nearest box. They were surprised and mystified, for no whisper of Geraldine's good fortune had reached her old associates. It had been whispered about that she had eloped with the missing actor, Clifford Standish, and some had pitied and others condemned.

So many and curious were the glances that went from the stage to the box where beautiful Geraldine was sitting, robed like some princess, in all the trappings of wealth and state.

The young girl enjoyed it thoroughly, and presently she whispered to her friend:

"I'm going to send a message to Cameron Clemens to come to our box at the first wait. You won't mind, will you?"

Cissy's heart leaped quickly under the lace and flowers of her corsage.

"Oh, Geraldine, you know I do not wish to meet him," she whispered back, while the half-deaf old chaperon lent both her ears to the play.

"Cissy, you are the proudest girl I ever saw! How can you be so cruel to poor Mr. Clemens? You are as much in fault as ever he was, for I am sure that nothing stands between your hearts now but your own abominable pride."

"Oh, Geraldine, how can you jump at things so? I dare say he has forgotten me now, and is in love with some other lady—that beautiful leading lady, Miss Mills, for instance."

"Why, Miss Mills has a husband whom she fairly adores. You needn't be jealous of her, darling. So I'm going to invite Mr. Clemens into our box to talk to us. You needn't be friendly with him if you don't choose. I'll introduce you as the veriest stranger, if you wish."

"Very well," answered Cissy, for she knew that the willful beauty would have her own way.

Geraldine's romantic heart was set on the reconciliation of the two long estranged lovers; so she sent the message at once, and Mr. Clemens came to the box at the end of the first act.

"Aren't you surprised to see me here, Mr. Clemens?" cried Geraldine, shaking hands with him cordially, then presenting her friends: "Mrs. Germyn, and my friend from New York. Miss Carroll, Mr. Clemens."

The estranged lovers, both pale as ashes, bowed to each other like strangers, without a sign that they had met before to-night.

CHAPTER L.

"LOVE MAKES FOOLS OF US ALL!"

"How lovely she looked as she stood
In a robe of pink gossamer dressed,
Her curls waving in the night air,
And the jessamine flowers on her breast.
Those dark eyes, so tender and sweet,
That red mouth so temptingly small,
Those bright, perfumed ringlets—heigho!
What fools such things make of us all!"

    May Agnes Fleming.
Geraldine watched the meeting between the estranged lovers with a knowing little smile.

Their sudden pallor and emotion, even the constraint of their meeting, assured her that love was not dead in their hearts.