forest colonnade.

Trusia turned to him. Her resolution had been difficult to reach.

"When Krovitch is free," she said, "you must still remain with our
army." She observed him covertly as she awaited his reply. The
hopefulness, which at first drew him erect, gradually disappeared,
leaving in its wake the bending lines of despair. There was a drawn look
in his face as he turned to answer.

"No," he said, and moodily turned his eyes away again.

"That means you will return to America." A subtle sensitiveness could
have construed this to embrace a query, a request and a regret. The
slightest quiver inflected her voice as she had spoken, but she bravely
finished without a break. Poor girl, she, too, was suffering. She was
sending away her ideal lover with only a meagre taste of maiden romance
to make life all the more sorrowful for the having. All this he felt. As
he recognized what it must mean to her--to any woman--deprived of man's
right of initiative in declaration, he was tempted to gather her roughly
in his arms and carry her away from duties, friends, country even, to
fulfil her own happiness, which was his. The maxillary muscles ached
with the strain his restraint put upon them.

"I must go. I must," he replied. "Pride, honor, sanity demand it."

"It is better so," she said softly as she bent her head. She, a Jeanne
D'Arc to her people, was inured to sacrifice. Above all, sweet and
clean, she saw Duty shine through Love as the sun shone through the
leaves above her head. So was the royal duchess fortified for her
future. Then Trusia, beautiful and desirable, Trusia, the woman,
rebelled that destiny should have ignored her in the plans for Trusia
the princess.

"I will never see you again--as a dear friend--after you have gone. But
I--but Krovitch will never forget you." Then in her royal pride that
felt no noble confession could shame her womanhood, she turned almost
fiercely upon him.

"Oh, why was I chosen for the sacrifice? Why couldn't I be as other
women? Natalie need not drive her friends away. Alone; I stand alone."
Her breath came in short, sobbing gasps which she fought courageously to
silence.

Carrick was far behind. Forgetting everything except the quivering heart
of the girl beside him, Carter leaned over and drawing her gently toward
him, patted the convulsive shoulders with awkward masculine solace. Like
a child in the shelter of maternal arms, the glossy head, forgetful for
the instant,