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.
"Ready, Ragna?"