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.

He feared he must have got thoroughly soaked, and he had had nothing since but one postcard, which said that Mirko had been in bed, though he was now much better and longing--longing to see his Cherisette! "Oh, Mimo! how could you let him sit on the grass!" Zara exclaimed reproachfully, when he got thus far.

"And why was I not told?
It may have made him seriously ill.

Oh, the poor angel! And I must stay so short a while--and then this wedding--" She stopped abruptly and her eyes became black.