"No, it will not be necessary; for although you may grant him liberty to call this evening, I will be the one to receive him and settle his pretensions," replied the lady, decidedly. While she was speaking her eyes fell on the dimpled white hands of Geraldine, and she saw for the first time that the young girl was wearing a superb diamond ring. "If that is Mr. Standish's property, you had better let me return it to him," she remarked. She was surprised at the warm blush that overspread the fair young face. "It--it--is my engagement-ring, mamma," she said, shyly. "Given to you by that wretch! Then of course you do not wish to keep it. You shall have all the diamonds you wish now, my dear one." "Thank you, my precious mamma, for your generous promise. I adore diamonds, and shall enjoy possessing plenty of them, but with this one I would not part for a queen's ransom!" exclaimed pretty Geraldine, pressing her lips fondly to the shining ring on her fair hand. Mrs. Fitzgerald could not repress her rising displeasure. "Indeed, my dear, I am surprised at you. I shall have to insist on your returning that person's ring," she said, gravely. Geraldine looked up with a lovely smile. "Oh, mamma, you cannot think this ring was given to me by Clifford Standish? Oh, no; it was the gift of a lover I left behind me in New York--my promised husband, the noblest lover any girl ever had!" she breathed, enthusiastically. "Geraldine!" Surprise and disapproval breathed in the lady's voice. "May I tell you all about him, mamma?" "Yes; I'm anxious to hear. And, by the way, are these two the only ones to whom you have promised your hand, or have you any more disclosures to make in that line?" "Oh, mamma, are you offended with me?" exclaimed Geraldine, alarmed at the sarcastic coldness of her mother's voice. "I am only surprised, my dear. Go on with your story," Mrs. Fitzgerald returned, quietly. And, curbing her impatience and disapproval under a mask of calmness, she listened eagerly to Geraldine's story of her love for Harry Hawthorne. And she thought she had never realized how radiantly lovely her daughter was until now, when her praises of her handsome betrothed brought the bright blushes to her cheeks, and the softened brightness to her starry brown eyes. She did not interrupt her story by a word, but she listened in the deepest gravity until Geraldine had finished; then she kissed her tenderly and said: "My dear, I can never consent to your marriage with Mr. Hawthorne." "Mamma!" in alarm. "It was well enough, my child, for the poor shop-girl of New York to be engaged to the brave young fireman, of course. But circumstances alter cases. Do you not understand that, Geraldine?" Geraldine was terribly alarmed and frightened by the words and looks of her proud, rich mother. She faltered, imploringly: "Mamma, I am afraid to try to understand you, for--it would kill me to give up my love, Harry."