"Oh, she has left New York, and gone on the road with a stock company--the one that played 'Hearts and Homes' two weeks here. You may remember Clifford Standish, the leading man. He procured the situation for Geraldine." Then, as she saw from his face that he was taking it quite hard, she added, with womanly curiosity: "But how happens it that you are not acquainted with these facts? The papers had some very flattering paragraphs about the beautiful salesgirl who had left a New York store to adopt a stage career." "I--I--haven't read the papers," he murmured, faintly, like one recovering from a blow. "Oh, then you must have been away from New York--and poor Geraldine expecting you to call every evening. Why didn't you let her know?" "I haven't been away from the city, Miss Carroll." "Then why did you act toward her so shabbily?" "Shabbily! Why I had a note written to her from the hospital, explaining that an accident had overturned my engine and seriously wounded me. I've been in Bellevue Hospital ten days, Miss Carroll. Look," and he showed her the scar on his head. "Oh, it's a wonder you were not killed," said the girl, sympathetically. "They thought I was at first, for I didn't recover consciousness until the next day. Then, as soon as I could think clearly at all, I thought of my broken engagement of the evening before, and wondered what she would think of me. I persuaded the nurse to write a little note for me, as I was too shaky myself, and sent it by the messenger-boy at the hospital. I hoped she would write me a line of sympathy, and that--perhaps--she might even be sorry enough to come and see me there. But I never received a word!" "She did not receive your note. Your failure to come was a mystery to her always, Mr. Hawthorne." "Why, that is very strange. I'll go back to the hospital and see that messenger. But--will you give me her address now?" eagerly. "I will write to her and explain." Cissy blushed vividly, and said: "I am sorry that I cannot, but the fact is I don't know where she is, for--we parted in anger, vowing to have no more to do with each other. I disliked Clifford Standish, and tried to persuade her not to go on the stage. She went in defiance of my advice--so she has not written to me." CHAPTER XI. A CRUSHING SORROW. "Till now thy soul hath been All glad and gay; Bid it arise and look At grief to-day! For now life's stream has reached A deep, dark sea, And sorrow, dim and crowned, Is waiting thee." Miss Carroll was sorry for the young fireman, as she saw how pale and troubled his handsome face became at her tidings. She exclaimed, sympathetically: "Maybe Geraldine will get over her anger and write to me yet. She never stays angry long at a time. So, if she writes, I'll let you know." "Thank you, a hundred times over," gratefully, "and may I call on you sometimes, to inquire?"