And the moment that she held out her arms to Geraldine the girl sprang into them gladly, and the next moment they were embracing each other with ineffable tenderness, the grief of the widow comforted in a measure by the restoration of her daughter. Clifford Standish looking on, suddenly felt a touch of uneasiness, and muttered, under his breath: "Confound the luck! I wish she had not met this woman until after we were married." And thinking it was time for him to assert his claim, he waited until the mother and daughter withdrew from each other's arms, and said, respectfully: "Accept my congratulations, madame, on the finding of your beautiful daughter, my promised wife!" The lady, with a quick start of surprise, as if she had but that moment become aware of his presence, turned and looked at the speaker. His words had fallen like hail-stones on her heart. She was one of the proudest women on earth, and her large dark eyes scanned Clifford Standish with cold inquiry. He had just announced himself as the betrothed of her daughter, and the cold glance of her eyes asked distinctly if he were worthy of that honor. There was a moment of breathless silence, and the actor looked at Geraldine with eyes whose veiled menace defied her to deny his claim. She, remembering his deadly threats, paled and shuddered. She could not afford to anger him yet. She realized that fully. The lady, after transfixing the daring actor with one steely glance, looked at her daughter. "Is this true?" she asked, in displeased surprise. "It is true," faltered Geraldine, without daring to look up; and again Standish, encouraged by success, interposed: "Let me explain the case to you, madame. We have been engaged to marry for some time, and we are now on our wedding journey--that is, we are to be married as soon as we reach Chicago." The lady, still icily ignoring her daughter's suitor, exclaimed: "Can this be true, Geraldine?" The young girl answered again, dejectedly. "It is true." Standish beamed upon her gratefully, joyously, hoping from her acquiescence that he had indeed made some impression on her heart. But the mother was wearing her most frigid air as she remarked: "This is a rather unusual proceeding. Should not the marriage have preceded instead of following the wedding journey?" Standish answered, quickly: "That is the usual way, certainly, but this was an elopement." "An elopement?" cried the lady, with rising indignation; but Geraldine laid a pleading hand upon her arm, crying: "Mother, dear mother, let us discuss this question later. At present let me present Mr. Standish to you." The mother bowed with cold courtesy. She evidently did not approve of her daughter's suitor. Standish read her mind like an open book. He comprehended that she was proud and rich, and would scout the idea of her daughter's marriage with one beneath her in social position. Yet he was all the more determined to make her his own.