whimsical
smile in his eyes.

"Well," he said, "your fiance is very anxious to see you, it seems. What
do you say?"

"Certainly not!" she flashed. "I thought it was understood; he shall not
come to the train. I will go by another if he insists."

"He won't insist; tell me of your day?"

She calmed herself--her face had grown stormy.

"I am quite satisfied with the home you have chosen for Mirko and will
take him there to-morrow. All the clothes have come that you said I
might order for him, and I hope and think he will be comfortable and
happy. He has a very beautiful, tender nature, and a great talent. If he
could only grow strong, and more balanced! Perhaps he will, in this
calm, English air."

Francis Markrute's face changed, as it always did with the mention and
discussion of Mirko--whose presence in the world was an ever-rankling
proof of his loved sister's disgrace. All his sense of justice--and he
was in general a just man--could never reconcile him to the idea of ever
seeing or recognizing the child. "The sins of the fathers"--was his
creed and he never forgot the dying Emperor's words. He had lost sight
of his niece for nearly two years after his sister's death. She had
wished for no communication with him, believing then that he had left
her mother to die without forgiveness, and it was not until he happened
to read in a foreign paper the casual mention of Count Shulski's murder,
and so guessed at Zara's whereabouts, that a correspondence had been
opened again, and he was able to explain that he had been absent in
Africa and had not received any letters.

He then offered her his protection and a home, if she would sever all
connection with the two, Mimo and Mirko, and she had indignantly
refused. And it was only when they were in dire poverty, and he had
again written asking his niece to come and stay with him for a few
weeks, this time with no conditions attached, that she had consented,
thinking that perhaps she would be able in some way to benefit them.

But now that she looked at him she felt keenly how he had trapped her,
all the same.

"We will not discuss your brother's nature," he said, coldly. "I will
keep my side of the bargain scrupulously, for all material things; that
is all you can expect of me. Now let us talk of yourself. I have
ventured to send some sables for your inspection up to your sitting room;
it will be cold traveling. I hope you will select what you wish. And
remember, I d