Every face grew sad at the thought, and some tender-hearted women burst into tears. It seemed terrible that those two beautiful young lives should have gone down so suddenly and tragically into the darkness of death. But, suddenly, a low murmur of joy rose above the lamentations. "See! see!" The dark head of Harry Hawthorne had reappeared above the waves. In another moment it was seen that he held Geraldine clasped to him with one arm, her white, unconscious face and dripping hair upturned to the light. Supporting himself as best he could with one free arm, he halooed, loudly: "Boat! boat!" Oh, what a ringing cheer answered him--shouts of joy at the rescue; shouts of praise at his bravery! In the meanwhile the steamer had been stopped, and a little boat let down. The men rowed quickly to Hawthorne, and drew him and his burden into safety. The whole affair had passed off very quickly, but only the strength and bravery of one man had saved pretty Geraldine from a grave beneath the deep, sparkling waves of the beautiful Hudson. As it was, she had sustained no injury, and soon recovered consciousness, looking about her with dazed eyes, to find her rescuer kneeling by her side, gazing at her with eager, dark-blue eyes, full of yearning anxiety. "Oh, you need not look so frightened, Mr. Hawthorne. She is all right now, and I'm going to take her down stairs and lend her some of my dry clothes!" cried a gay voice, and the pretty young married woman to whom he had been about to introduce Geraldine when she fell into the river, now took the girl in charge and led her down stairs, saying, cheerily: "You'll be all right directly. I'm going to get you some wine, and have you lie down and rest a while when you get on some dry clothes. Oh, you don't know my name, do you? "I am Mrs. Stansbury, and Harry Hawthorne was bringing me over to see you when you fell into the water. A mercy you wern't drowned, isn't it? You certainly would have been, only for his bravery." Closeted in the little state-room, she continued: "How fortunate that I brought along a little steamer trunk, expecting to spend several days with my mother in Newburgh. I can lend you an outfit, for we are almost the same size, aren't we? But I'll wager that Harry Hawthorne will not be able to borrow a suit big enough for him, and will have to remain 'in durance vile' until his own clothes are dry." Her words proved true, and she and Geraldine did not see the handsome fireman again until just before they landed, when he joined them, looking fresh and bright, and none the worse for his ducking, excusing his absence by saying, gayly, that he had been hung over a line to dry. His eager eyes sought Geraldine's, and he said, tenderly: "You feel no worse for your wetting, I hope?" "No, indeed, thanks to the coddling of Mrs. Stansbury and the other ladies, but"--and her low voice broke with grateful emotion--"how can I ever thank you enough?"