He had convalesced very fast, the wound not being as deep as at first supposed. But the keen stroke of Standish had only missed a fatal ending because it had been blunted by passing through a cigar case in Hawthorne's breast-pocket. His high health and vitality had enabled him to pull through fast, and to-day he was out for the first time, looking pale and thin, his restless glances roving from side to side, seeking ever for one beautiful face so deeply loved, so cruelly lost. And suddenly he encountered it--where least expected--in the garb and the trappings of wealth. He gave a gasp like one dying, and clutched young Hill's arm in icy fingers. The latter looked around, exclaiming: "What is it, Jack, eh? Have we brought you too far in your weak state? Oh, I see, you're looking at the beauty! You're hard hit, aren't you? So am I! She's a stunner!" At that moment the footman closed the door on Geraldine, and the carriage rolled away. She did not look out of the window, or she would have seen Hawthorne--the lover over whom her fond heart was yearning--start forward with outstretched arms toward the carriage, crying, wildly: "It is she! it is she! Stop the carriage, I say! I must speak to her one moment!" But his friends restrained him on either side. They feared that he had suddenly gone daft. Weak as he was, he struggled with them, broke their hold, and ran a few paces after the carriage. Then he dropped, exhausted, to the pavement. They overtook him and raised him up between them. He looked at them pleadingly. "You think I am crazy, I know. But let me explain. I know that girl in the carriage. I came to Chicago to find her, and now, she has escaped me!" he groaned. "What! you know the beautiful Miss Fitzgerald, of Prairie avenue?" exclaimed Ralph Washburn, in surprise. "That is not her name!" cried Hawthorne. "Oh, yes, it is Miss Fitzgerald, certainly. You have made a mistake," returned the young author, who had seen Mrs. Fitzgerald often, and had read in the society newspapers that her lovely daughter, Miss Fitzgerald, who had been educated abroad, had just been called home by her father's death. But to make assurance doubly sure, he ran up to the photographer's studio to inquire. They assured him that their late sitters were Mrs. and Miss Fitzgerald. Hawthorne was so unnerved by the discovery of his mistake that a cab had to be called to take him home. CHAPTER XXXIX. IT IS NOT POSSIBLE FOR TRUE LOVE TO FORGET. "Have you seen the full moon Drift behind a cloud, Hiding all of nature In a dusky shroud? "Have you seen the light snow Change to sudden rain, And the virgin streets grow Black as ink again? "Have you seen the ashes When the flame is spent, And the cheerless hearth-stone Grim and eloquent? "Have you seen the ball-room When the dance is done, And its tawdry splendor Meets the morning sun?