CHAPTER XLIII.

CISSY'S PATHETIC LOVE STORY.

"Oh, would I knew thy heart! Thine eye seems truthful! Thy smile is bright, thy voice is low and sweet; Thou seemst the very counterpart of honor When thou art kneeling suppliant at my feet. But eyes we may not trust with truth implicit, And smiles are oft but false lights to allure; A man may smile, and smile, and be a villain; Fair fruit is often rotten at the core."

FRANCIS S. SMITH.

Miss Carroll saw that there was no escaping the importunities of the charming little tease, so she answered, with pretending carelessness:

"Taking your last question first, I met him five years ago. As to where, it was at the sea-shore. We used to go there every summer before dear grandpa failed in business, and had to move out to the country, to the only home left him, the little farm where I first knew you."

"Yes, go on," breathed Geraldine, eagerly, and with a pensive little sigh, Miss Carroll continued:

"We met at the sea-shore, as I have told you--at that gay resort, Atlantic City. We danced together in the evenings, flirted on the sands and in the water, rode, boated, watched the sea by moonlight, and he taught me how to swim and to row. I was very happy."

"I know just how it was," sighed Geraldine.

"We became engaged," continued Cissy. "My grandfather was opposed to actors, and was not pleased with my engagement, but he relented, and gave his consent when he saw how my heart was set on it. Cameron pleaded for an early marriage, and before I returned to New York the wedding-day was set for the first of December. My trousseau was bought and in the hands of the dressmakers."

Cissy's voice faltered, and she brushed away some pearly tears that had brimmed over on her cheeks.

"Poor darling," murmured Geraldine, caressingly.

"Don't pity me, dear. I--I--can't bear it. Let me finish," cried Cissy, and she hurried on:

"Just a few weeks before the wedding-day, an actress in his company came to see me. She was a great beauty, and she told me that Mr. Clemens had been her lover, betrothed to her before he ever saw me. She declared that if I did not give him up it would kill her, and raved so wildly that I sent for Cameron. He came, and was very angry when he saw her, but she raged like a tigress, and claimed him passionately. He admitted that he had promised to marry her, but after seeing me, repented his engagement, and tried to get free, but she would not release him, so he was going to marry me anyway. Geraldine, you can fancy my feelings, perhaps. Although I knew it would break my heart, I dismissed my lover, bidding him return to his old love, who had cruelly wounded me by hinting that it was grandpa's money he wanted, not me."

"Well?" breathed Geraldine, eagerly.

"Well, I declined all his overtures toward reconciliation, and a few months after he married Azuba Aylesford, the actress. The marriage was not a happy one, and within two years she deserted him, going off with some Western actor, whose name I never heard. Cameron secured a divorce--but that is all, really. Grandpa died in the meantime, and when the mortgage was paid off on the farm, there was so little left that I came to New York to earn my bread. So, there, it was not so much of a love story after all," sadly.

"Oh, yes, it was very interesting, and it may have a happy ending yet. I rather pity poor Mr. Clemens."

"You should not, for he does not deserve it--false to two women, as he was!" flashed Cissy. Then she kissed Geraldine, saying: "Good-night, dear one, and don't let us refer to this painful subject again."