"Oh, no, it would not, dear, for you will soon forget your poor lover in the new sphere of life you will now fill. He is no longer a proper mate for you. Let him marry your sweet friend, Cissy, who is more suited to him in social station than my daughter an heiress." "Mamma, you are surely jesting with me! You do not really believe that I would throw over my noble lover! Why, it would break my heart to lose him, and if he married Cissy I should hate her till my dying day!" "Nonsense, my dear! you will soon forget him, and the match must surely be broken off, for I may as well tell you now that almost in your cradle you were betrothed to another--the son of a very dear friend of mine. So now that I have found you, dear, you will belong to that other one." "Mamma, you are cruel, heartless! I cannot yield to you in this, fondly as I love you." "You would not surely defy my authority, Geraldine, when I command you to write to Mr. Hawthorne, returning his ring, and breaking the engagement!" They gazed fixedly at each other, and Geraldine said, imploringly: "Mamma, I wrote to Harry yesterday, telling him all that had happened to me, and promising to be true to him through everything." "You were a rash girl to act without consulting me in the matter. But we will not discuss the subject any further at present. Go now, and send the note to Standish, giving him permission to call this evening," Mrs. Fitzgerald answered, with an air of bitter displeasure. CHAPTER XXXIII. CLIFFORD STANDISH TRIES TO CREATE A GRAND IMPRESSION. "When you see a vain pretender Rushing aimlessly along, Boasting of his wealth and splendor To the giddy, thoughtless throng, Pity him, and while you pity In your mind this adage keep: Though he may be _fast_ and _witty_, Rapid streams are seldom deep." FRANCIS S. SMITH. Geraldine hastened to her room and scrawled a hasty line to Clifford Standish: "You may call at eight o'clock this evening." When she had dispatched the note by a servant, she threw herself, weeping, on a sofa. Her fond heart was almost broken by her mother's command to give up her lover. "I will not obey her, for she has no right to demand such a sacrifice from me!" she sobbed, resentfully. It was true that she had already written to Hawthorne, telling him all that had happened to her since she had seen him last, and adding that no change of fortune could turn her heart from its love. She had begged him to answer her letter as soon as received, and added a postscript to ask him to go and tell Cissy Carroll what she had written. But an adverse fate seemed always to come between Geraldine and her heart's choice. Hawthorne, who was in Chicago by this time, vainly seeking his lost love, was fated not to receive the letter.