"Yes, and I tell you about them now so you will not notice them when you go on again in the second part. They are the Stansburys; the bride and groom, Harry and Mrs. Hawthorne; the two single Odell girls, and Cissy Carroll, with three young men--their beaus, no doubt." She clutched his arm with a trembling hand. "I--I--wish you had not told me," she faltered. "I--shall--be nervous now--in my part, I fear." "You do not mean that you can care for that fellow still--you, my promised bride, and he the husband of Daisy Odell?" reproachfully. "Oh, no, no; do not accuse me of such weakness," wildly. "But there is--Cissy, you know--Cissy turned against me, and we were so fond once!" Her voice was almost a wail. "Do not think of her, my dearest love--she is not worthy of it, the jealous, envious creature! Call pride to help you appear indifferent. Do not even turn your head toward that box, and they need never know how they have wounded your fond heart," he persisted, anxiously. "Yes, yes; I will obey you," she answered, faintly. "And, Geraldine, my darling--my sweet, promised bride--you know how madly I love you, but you have denied all my prayers for an immediate marriage! Will you not relent and make me the happiest man on earth? Oh, let us be married to-night after the play! It can be managed easily enough. Say yes, dearest?" A call-boy came through the corridor, chanting: "Only five minutes till next act--only five minutes." She broke away from him, panting, breathlessly: "I cannot answer you now." She fled to her dressing-room, glad to escape his importunities, yet feeling as if she did not do him justice by her lack of love. "He is so patient, so tender, and so eager to spare me pain, that I ought to love him more than I do," she told herself. Respect and esteem she could give him, for she believed that he was good and noble, so well had he acted the traitor's part; but love--oh, we cannot give love at will! "Life's perfect June, Love's red, red rose, Have burned and bloomed for me. Though still youth's summer sunlight glows; Though thou art kind, dear friend, I find I have no heart for thee." She stole to the wings one moment, to gaze by stealth at the theatre party, and by the merest accident Harry Hawthorne was leaning over the bride's chair, talking to her of some trifle, but the sight made Geraldine draw back all white and quivering, with a cruel pang at her heart. "I hate him!" she moaned, to herself, in a passion of jealous despair. But when she came upon the stage she did not look again at the box, or she would have seen that Harry Hawthorne sat apart from Daisy, by the side of Cissy. She acted her part well, for in it there was much of the tragic pain that suited well with her desperate mood.