"Are you coming, K.?"

"Coming," he said. And, when he was beside her, his long figure folded to

the short measure of the step, he stooped humbly and kissed the hem of her

soft white dress.

Across the Street, Mr. Wagner wrote something in the dark and then lighted

a match.

"So K. is in love with Sidney Page, after all!" he had written. "She is a

sweet girl, and he is every inch a man. But, to my mind, a certain lady--"

Mrs. McKee flushed and blew out the match.

Late September now on the Street, with Joe gone and his mother eyeing the

postman with pitiful eagerness; with Mrs. Rosenfeld moving heavily about

the setting-up of the new furniture; and with Johnny driving heavenly cars,

brake and clutch legs well and Strong. Late September, with Max recovering

and settling his tie for any pretty nurse who happened along, but listening

eagerly for Dr. Ed's square tread in the hall; with Tillie rocking her baby

on the porch at Schwitter's, and Carlotta staring westward over rolling

seas; with Christine taking up her burden and Grace laying hers down; with

Joe's tragic young eyes growing quiet with the peace of the tropics.

"The Lord is my shepherd," she reads. "I shall not want."..."Yea, though I

walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."

Sidney, on her knees in the little parlor, repeats the words with the

others. K. has gone from the Street, and before long she will join him.

With the vision of his steady eyes before her, she adds her own prayer to

the others--that the touch of his arms about her may not make her forget

the vow she has taken, of charity and its sister, service, of a cup of

water to the thirsty, of open arms to a tired child.



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