SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
and the broad current which flowed onward past the Palace, on its long journey to the sea. Then she rose with a sigh; the time drew near for a French lesson. Marie Zerkovitch had already got her two pupils.
When General Stenovics had ridden three or four hundred yards, he beckoned his aide-de-camp and secretary—for Markart's fnctions were both military and civil—to his side.
"We're last of all, I suppose?" he asked.
"Pretty nearly, sir."
"That must be his Royal Highness just crossing the bridge?"
"Yes, sir, that's his escort."
"Ah, well, we shall just do it! And who, pray"—the General turned round to his companion "is that remarkable-looking young woman you've managed to pick up?"
Markart told what he knew of Mademoiselle de Gruche; it was not much.
"A friend of the Zerkovitches? That's good. A nice fellow, Zerkovitch—and his wife's quite charming. And your friend—?"
"I can hardly call her that, General."
"Tut, tut! You're irresistible, I know. Your friend—what did you tell her?"
"Nothing, on my honor." The young man colored and looked a trifle alarmed. But Stenovics's manner was one of friendly amusement.
"For an example of your 'nothing,'" he went on, "you told her that the King was an amiable man?"
"Oh, possibly, General."
"That the Countess was a little—just a little—too scrupulous?"
"It was nothing, surely, to say that?"
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