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Updated: May 7, 2025
And then further visions came to him, and he walked very fast; and presently he found himself opposite his lady's house. An impulse just to see her window overcame him, and he crossed the road and went out of the gate. And there on the pavement he saw Mimo, also with face turned, gazing up.
And these bright, new flowery cups should be his special care, to wash, and dry, and guard. He grew merry as a cricket, and his laughter pealed over the paper cap Mimo made for him and the towel his sister had for an apron. They were to be the servants, and Mimo a lordly guest.
And finally they had come home again home to Wrayth and no more unhappy pair of young, healthy people lived on earth. Zara could hardly contain her impatience to see if a telegram for her from Mimo had come in her absence. Tristram saw her look of anxiety and strain, and smiled grimly to himself. She would get no answering telegram from her lover that day!
"Chérisette, Angel! But what joy!" And Mirko hurled himself into her arms, while Mimo kissed her hand. He never forgot his early palace manners. "I have brought you good news," she said, as she drew out two ten-pound notes. "I have made my uncle see reason. Here is something for the present. He has such a kind and happy scheme for Mirko's health. Listen, and I will tell you about it."
And his common sense reassured him somewhat. If the man were a lover, he could not pray so, on this, the night before her wedding to another. It was not in human, male nature, he felt, to do such an unselfish thing as that. Then Mimo raised his soft felt hat in his rather dramatic way to the window, and walked up the street.
She must be ready to go out to try and see Mimo, the moment she could slip away after breakfast, so she came down with her hat on: she wanted to speak to her uncle alone, and Tristram, she thought, would not be there so early only nine o'clock. "This is energetic, my niece!"
Mirko should never be deserted the adored mother could die in peace about that. Her last words came back now out of the glowing coals: "I have been happy with Mimo, after all, my Chérisette, with you and Mimo and Mirko. It was worth while " And so she had gasped and died. And here the tears gathered and blurred the flaming coals. But Zara's decision had come. There was no other way.
For when the beautiful wife of Maurice Grey, the misanthropic and eccentric Englishman who lived in a castle near Prague, ran off with Count Mimo Sykypri, her daughter, then aged thirteen, had run with her, and the pair had been wiped off the list of the family.
He should be put in a glass case in a museum!" And she got up and left him alone. Tristram would like to have killed some one he did not know whom this foreign man, "Mimo," most likely: he had not forgotten the name! If his pride had permitted him he would have gone up to Zara, who had now retired to her room, and asked straight out for an explanation.
Then he absently pulled out his original one and glanced at it before tearing it up; and before he realized what he did his eye caught: "To Count Mimo Sykypri" he did not read the address "Immediately, to-morrow, wire me your news. Chérisette." And ere his rage burst in a terrible oath he noticed that stamps were enclosed. Then he threw the paper with violence into the fire!
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