“Then we will save them from it as far as we can. And even for our own sakes—— Why, Eirene, think. Would the Powers tolerate our linking the claims of Maxim Psicha with our own at the present moment, even if they consent to acknowledge my election as valid?”
“It might have been managed secretly,” she said, and walked away restlessly, to look out at the dark masses of people in the square. It was always like this; Maurice would thwart her to the end, not merely by means of obstinacy, but with some show of reason and equity. If the way to her goal involved a breach with his convictions, he would not follow it. And that day had brought her so much nearer! In this age of revolutions and counter-revolutions, of compromises and buffer states, the phantom glories of a revived Eastern Empire might not be so very unreal, after all. She saw them clearly enough, but it was through a mist of passionate tears. No son of hers would sit on the throne of the Cæsars, it was only too probable now that even her daughter would never be acclaimed in Hagion Pneuma as Orthodox Empress. She had gained the prize which was to be the stepping-stone to the greater glory, but to her husband it was a burden rather than a gain, and the child for whose sake she had first grasped at it lay buried in Hagiamavra. The coveted fruit was little but dust and ashes after all.
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES.
Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg.
This book is part of the author’s “Balkan Series II.” The series, in order, being: The Heir, The Heritage, and The Prize.
The book’s sole image, a frontispiece, was of such poor quality in the source PDF that I didn’t include it. A quality copy will be added if it ever becomes available. If you can provide this image please contact Project Gutenberg support.
Alterations to the text:
Punctuation corrections: some quotation mark pairings.
Footnotes have been placed in square-brackets in-line with the text.