"Mrs. Stansbury, please," she corrected him, then went on, gayly: "Do you remember our flirtation at Asbury Park three years ago? I haven't seen you since, have I? Well, I've been married two years now to the finest man in New York. But my sisters are single yet. Come with me and pay your respects to them before the german begins." She dragged him reluctantly away, and then Hawthorne said, angrily: "That fellow was inclined to be insolent, and I could scarcely refrain from pitching him neck and heels through this window!" "Oh, please, please, do not get into any trouble with him on my account!" pleaded Geraldine. "He has been very kind to me, really, and I should not wish to offend him!" "Do not tell me he is your lover--that you care for him!" exclaimed the young man, jealously. "N-n-o, he is only a friend!" she faltered, and was glad when her partner for the next dance came to claim her hand. She knew in her heart that Clifford Standish regarded her with more than a friendly liking, but she was not prepared to own it to impetuous Harry Hawthorne, so she was glad to get away from his inquisitive looks and words. But the joy of the evening was ended now for pretty Geraldine. Clifford Standish soon escaped from the Odell girls, and haunted Geraldine the rest of the time, not offensively, but with the assurance of a favored lover, torturing the poor girl who could not bear to wound his feelings, but whose reserved and distrait manner did not discourage his persistent gallantry, for he stood his ground, debarring the lovers from any pleasure in each other's society. Once Hawthorne whispered to her, fiercely: "There comes that cad back. He is annoying you. I see it by your altered looks. Will you not allow me to pitch him out of the window?" "No--oh, no, you must not make a scene!" she shuddered, apprehensively. "Then tell him yourself that you are weary of his persistent following," he urged. "Oh, no, I cannot wound him so. He has been kind to me, and means no harm," she said, trying to make excuses that she felt he did not deserve. But she escaped from the ball as soon as she could, glad to be rid of him, and spent a restless night, repenting the encouragement she had given Standish before she met Hawthorne. "They both love me, and I can see that they will be bitter foes," she thought, in terror of some unknown evil. The next morning Standish came at an early hour to call. He was acquainted with the girls, and they tried by merry banter to drive the threatening gloom from his brow; but all their efforts were dismal failures. He had eyes only for Geraldine, who was pale and perturbed under his reproachful glances, that seemed to say, bitterly: "You are a cruel little coquette. You encouraged me to love you until you met that other fellow, and now you wish to throw me over." CHAPTER VI. FORTUNE, THAT FICKLE GODDESS, FAVORS STANDISH.