ome day, she hoped--when she could grow perhaps more friendly with her
husband--she would get her uncle to let her tell him about Mirko. It
would make everything so much more simple as regards seeing him, and
why, since the paper was all signed and nothing could be altered, should
there be any mystery now? Only, her uncle had said the day before the
wedding,

"I beg of you not to mention the family disgrace of your mother to your
husband nor speak to him of the man Sykypri for a good long time--if you
ever need."

And she had acquiesced.

"For," Francis Markrute had reasoned to himself, "if the boy dies, as
Morley thinks there is every likelihood that he will, why should
Tristram ever know?"

The disgrace of his adored sister always made him wince.

Mimo came at last, looking anxious and haggard, and not his debonair
self. Yes, he had had a telegram that morning. He had sent one, as he
was obliged to do, in her name, and hence the confusion in the answer.
Mrs. Morley had replied to the Neville Street address, and Zara wondered
if she knew London very well and would see how impossible such a
locality would be for the Lady Tancred!

But Mirko was better--decidedly better--the attack had again been very
short. So she felt reassured for the moment, and was preparing to go
when she remembered that one of the things she had come for was to give
Mimo some money in notes which she had prepared for him; but, knowing
the poor gentleman's character, she was going to do it delicately by
buying the "Apache!" For she was quite aware that just money, for him to
live, now that it was not a question of the welfare of Mirko, he would
never accept from her. In such unpractical, sentimental ways does
breeding show itself in some weak natures!

Mimo was almost suspicious of the transaction, and she was obliged to
soothe and flatter him by saying that he must surely always have
understood how intensely she had admired that work; and now she was rich
it would be an everlasting pleasure to her to own it for her very own.
So poor Mimo _was_ comforted, and they parted after a while, all
arrangements having been made that the telegrams--should any more
come--were to go first, addressed to her at Neville Street, so that the
poor father should see them and then send them on.

And as it was now past eleven o'clock Zara returned quickly back to Park
Lane and was coming in at the door just as her husband was descending
the stairs.

"You ar