Trusia Part 33

"We arrived two weeks ago to-morrow," said the Krovitzer. "Twice I called at your house, three times at your club. They supposed I was some beggar, no doubt, and never gave you my messages. Having no money over actual necessities for either telephones or postage stamps, I took the poor man's way of communicating with you while I sought work--waited till I could see you. In fact, Carter, to be perfectly frank, I did not know but that our altered circ.u.mstances might influence you as it has some other acquaintances I have appealed to."

"That is unjust, Sobieska," said Carter.

"I should have known better," answered Sobieska apologetically, "but, Carter, we have had some pretty hard knocks. You were silent to my letter--how could I guess you were ill? I was rebuffed at both your house and club. A sensitive man might well read your acquiescence in such treatment. Will you accept my apology? Here we are," he added, as the cab drew up to the curb.

"Don't apologize," said Carter, shaking him by the hand, while his eyes hungrily devoured the front of the tenement with avidity that sought for some sign of Trusia. "Is this the place?" The grimy pile was sanctified in his eyes as it sheltered the woman to whom he had given his whole heart.

Trembling like an eager child, after dismissing the cabby, he scrambled breathlessly after his guide up steep and dirty stairs to the third floor, past pa.s.sages and open doors, which showed more than one family huddled together in single apartments.

"She does not live as these?" he asked with repugnance.

"No," said his companion, regarding a group with unconcealed compa.s.sion, "I was fortunate enough to secure a separate room for her, poor as it is." But the man n.o.bly concealed the price he had had to pay, to be content to sleep upon a straw mattress in a sub-cellar--nor did Trusia know what sacrifices her former minister was making for her meagre comforts.

The door of an apartment stood open at the end of the next turn in the entry. Both men, hushed by conflicting emotions, stood regarding the scene before them.

At a window, her face a trifle thinner, more _spirituelle_, because of her heartaches, sat Trusia. The light, touching the edges of her hair, glinted into an iridescent halo about her face. Across her knees lay a little child. Its mother, with anxious, peasant face, was bending over its ailing form, while the large, whole-souled regard which Trusia bent upon the tiny form made a picture of a modern Madonna.

Then, the air whispered its tidings to her soul. She glanced up and saw Carter standing in the pa.s.sageway. Gently placing the infant in the maternal arms held out for it, she arose and without a spoken word came to him; came so close that there was nothing for him to do but to take her tenderly in his arms. a.s.sured of their right, her hands lay on his shoulders, while her eyes sought out his soul.

Then, careless whether the whole world looked on or not, their lips met gently, lingeringly.

"Though all thrones have fallen," she sighed blissfully, "you are still my King."

"Trusia, my Trusia," he said, while Sobieska fled silently from their view.

FINALE