“Indeed it will!”
Kalmon’s brown eyes beamed with pleasure at
the thought of taking the kindly message to the dying
girl. He rose to his feet at once.
“There is no one like you,” he said, as
he took her hand.
“It is nothing. It is what Marcello’s
mother would have done, and she was my best friend.
All I do is to take the responsibility upon myself,
however Aurora may choose to act. I will send
you word, in either case. If Aurora will not
go, I will come myself, if I can be of any use, if
it would make Regina feel happier. I will come,
and I will tell her what I have told you. Good-night,
dear friend.”
Kalmon was not an emotional man, but as he went out
he felt a little lump in his throat, as if he could
not swallow.
He had not doubted his friend’s kindness, but
he had doubted whether she would feel that she had
a right to “expose her daughter,” as the
world would say, to meeting such a “person,”
as the world called Regina—“Consalvi’s
Regina.”
All that night and the following day Regina recognised
no one; and it was night again, and her strength began
to fail, but her understanding returned. Marcello
saw the change, and made a sign to the nurse, who
went out to tell Kalmon.
It was about nine o’clock when he entered the
room, and Regina knew him and looked at him anxiously.
He, in turn, glanced at Marcello, and she understood.
She begged Marcello to go and get some rest. Her
voice was very weak, as if she were suffocating, and
she coughed painfully. He did not like to go
away, but Kalmon promised to call him at midnight;
he had been in the room six hours, scarcely moving
from his seat. He lingered at the door, looked
back, and at last went out.
“Will she come?” asked Regina, when he
was gone.
“In half an hour. I have sent a messenger,
for they have no telephone.”
A bright smile lighted up the wasted face.
“Heaven will reward you,” she said, as
the poor say in Rome when they receive a charity.
Then she seemed to be resting, for her hands lay still,
and she closed her eyes. But presently she opened
them, looking up gratefully into the big man’s
kind face.
“Shall I be alone with her a little?”
she asked.
“Yes, my dear. You shall be alone with
her.”
Again she smiled, and he left the nurse with her and
went and waited downstairs at the street door, till
the Contessa and Aurora should come, in order to take
them up to the little apartment. He knew that
Marcello must have fallen asleep at once, for he had
not rested at all for twenty-four hours, and very
little during several days past. Kalmon was beginning
to fear that he would break down, though he was so
much stronger than formerly.
