The dread that Harry Hawthorne might be one of these heartless men awoke to life within her a fierce and burning pride. "No man shall break my heart. I will forget Harry Hawthorne," she vowed, bitterly, to herself; and when the actor came that night, he found her bright and gay as of yore. She had put on over her tortured heart that mask of smiles which many a woman wears through life to deceive a carping world. "'I have a smiling face,' she said, 'I have jest for all I meet, I have a garland for my head, And all its flowers are sweet, And so you call me gay,' she said. "'Behind no prison grate,' she said, 'Which slurs the sunshine half a mile, Live captives so uncomforted As souls behind a smile. God's pity let us pray,' she said." Clifford Standish was charmed with her new mood. He saw that a reaction had begun. "I am glad to see you so happy, for I am sure that you have decided to go on the road with us," he exclaimed, coaxingly. She shook her head, and laughed, gayly: "Do not be too sure. You know you have given me until Sunday night to decide." "But that is not far off--only twenty-four hours," he said, with a smile, for he felt sure of victory. As she made no reply, he continued: "I have made a charming invitation for you for Sunday afternoon. Some of the leading members of our company are going to skate in the park to-morrow--you know this cold snap has frozen the lake beautifully--and they want me to bring you. Will you come?" "Yes," replied Geraldine, quickly, glad of a diversion for Sunday afternoon, so that she need not mope alone with her miserable thoughts of how Harry Hawthorne had flirted with her for his own amusement. For she had begun to lose faith in her handsome lover now. The leaven of Cissy's words had worked steadily in her mind. And a cruel self-shame that she had given her love in vain was at war with the tenderness of her heart. "Thank you. I am so glad you will go. I know you will like the trip and the company," he said; then, in a changed tone: "By the way, did that fireman ever keep his promise to call on you?" "No," she answered, carelessly. "Have you heard anything about him?" "No, indeed, and I had almost forgotten the man until you recalled him to my mind," she returned, fibbing unblushingly. "Ah! Then you will not mind what I have to tell you?" deprecatingly. "Of course not. What is it?" carelessly. "Well, of course, I thought it rude and strange his not keeping his appointment with you, and thinking something might have happened to the fellow, as you feared, I made some indirect inquiries at the engine-house, and found that he had returned to Newburgh the same day he brought you back to New York." "Indeed?" she returned, with a paling cheek, whose pallor she could not control.