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Updated: May 7, 2025
But Zara was not concerned with such things at all for the moment. She was waiting anxiously for Mimo at their trysting-place, the mausoleum of Halicarnassus in the British Museum, and he was late. He would have the last news of Mirko. No reply had awaited her to her telegram to Mrs. Morley from Paris, and it had been too late to wire again last night. And Mrs.
And as she said this her thoughts flew to her own fate what would her "presently" be? And she gave a little, unconscious shiver almost of fear. "What hast thou, Chérisette?" said Mirko. "Where were thy thoughts then? not here?" "No, not here, little one. Thy Chérisette is going also to a new home; some day thou must visit her there."
It had rained all the morning and then had cleared up gloriously fine, and they had sat down on a bank under the trees, and Mirko had played divinely all sorts of gay airs. But when he got up he had shivered a little, and Mimo could see that his clothes were wet, and then the rain had come on immediately again, and he had made him run back.
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.
Oh, if he could always be with her, he really, after all, would wish for no other heaven! "We are going to have such a picnic!" Zara told him. "Papa and I have brought a new tablecloth, and some pretty cups and saucers, and spoons, and knives, and forks and see! such buns! English buns for you to toast, Mirko mio! You must be the little cook, while I lay the table."
"Prince Mirko and all the other ministers who have remained cannot in any case open negotiations with anyone whatever. The French Government has promised our retreating army all possible facilities, such as it gave to the Serbian army. Prince Mirko and the other ministers must in no case remain, but make every possible effort to escape."
"How do you think this young man will do as Prince of Macedonia?" he once cheerfully asked Mr. Bouchier, to Prince Joseph's embarrassment. Lastly, in order to have claim on Serbia whichever way the political cat hopped, he married Prince Mirko to Natalie Constantinovitch, cousin to Alexander Obrenovitch of Serbia.
Only there was no mistake about this the Italian parterre; and a sudden tightness grew round her heart, and she thought of Mirko and the day she had last seen him. And Tristram was startled into looking at her by a sudden catching of her breath, and to his amazement he perceived that her face was full of pain, as though she had revisited some scene connected with sorrowful memories.
Mirko was upstairs in his pretty bedroom, playing with a puzzle and the nurse; he had not been told of his sister's proposed coming, but some sixth sense seemed to inform him it was she, when her footfall sounded on the lower stairs, for they heard an excited voice shouting: "I tell you I will go I will go to her, my Chérisette!"
When he got thus far in his picturings he would shut his eyes, stretch out his long limbs, and call to Jake, his solemn bulldog, and pat his wrinkled head. And Zara, in Paris, was more tranquil in mind than was her wont. Mirko had not made much difficulty about going to Bournemouth.
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