"Shall I not bring the Signorina a glass of Marsala?"
"No, thank you," said Ragna, but the maid had already flown off and returned very quickly with a glass of the topaz-coloured wine.
"Here, drink this, Signorina, it is very good when one is tired, it will warm you up!" She was not to be denied, and to please her Ragna drained the little glass. Rosa was right, she felt it warming her veins; a tinge of colour crept to her cheeks, and she managed to swallow a little food. Then she lay down again, and what with the wine and the fatigue fell asleep, and slept until Rosa returned to help her dress.
Rosa, as she watched the Signorina's purple shadowed eyes, said to herself.
"_Macchè fatigue!_ Displeasure of love, that is what it is!" She prided herself on her perspicacity where affairs of the heart were concerned, and sighed deeply to show her sympathy.
Ragna stood apathetically while the maid hooked up her bodice. She wore a simple white frock, very youthful and girlish, and the low neck and short sleeves displayed her pretty shoulders and rounded, slender arms to advantage.
She had thought with pleasure of Mirko's seeing her in it, for she had told him by what sign to recognise her, and he was to have come masked to the ball to dance with her.
"The Signorina lacks but the veil to be a bride!" said Rosa admiringly.
Ragna shuddered and grew paler than before, if that were possible.
"The Signorina is beautiful, as she is, but if she will take my advice, she should put on a little rouge, she is too pale."
Ragna looked at herself in the mirror,--she was heavy eyed and white, far too white. The virginal whiteness of her frock, the pure pale face and pale gold hair seemed a pitiful mockery to her. She was glad when Rosa laid the black domino about her shoulders though it made her face look ghastly.
There was a sound of voices and laughter in the passage, and Ragna quickly snatched up her black mask and adjusted it as Astrid and Estelle entered the room.
"Yes," she answered, bending for Rosa to draw the domino hood over her head and fasten it with a pin.
Estelle turned herself about before the cheval-glass; her green domino, trimmed with black lace, was too short for her, and showed a good three inches of grey skirt at the hem; it was too full and made awkward bunchy folds about her and she wore a green mask with a frill of black lace, which fluttered as she breathed through her mouth,--however, she was quite satisfied with her appearance.