And beside this there was another, of Mimo, taken at the same time, when
Zara and her mother had gone to the Emperor's palace in that far land.
How wonderfully handsome he was then, and even still!--and how the air
of _insouciance_ suited him, in that splendid white and gold uniform.
But Mimo looked always a gentleman, even in his shabbiest coat.

And now that she knew what the passion of love meant herself, she better
understood how her mother had loved. She had never judged her mother, it
was not in her nature to judge any one; underneath the case of steel
which her bitter life had wrought her, Zara's heart was as tender as an
angel's.

Then she thought of the words in the Second Commandment: "And the sins
of the fathers shall be visited upon the children." Had they sinned,
then? And if so how terribly cruel such Commandments were--to make the
innocent children suffer. Mirko and she were certainly paying some
price. But the God that _Maman_ had gone to and loved and told her
children of, was not really cruel, and some day perhaps she--Zara--would
come into peace on earth. And Mirko? Mirko would be up there, happy and
safe with _Maman_.

The cheap clock showed nearly half-past seven. She could not wait
another moment, and also she reasoned if Mimo were sending her a
telegram it would be to Park Lane. He knew she was coming up; she would
get it there on her return, so she scribbled a line to Count Sykypri,
and told him she had been--and why--and that she must hear at once, and
then she left and hurried back to her uncle's house. And when she got
there it was twenty minutes to eight.

Her maid had been dreadfully worried, as she had given no orders as to