Adelaide laughed, a musical, child-like laugh which any man, hearing, would have judged to be an expression of pure innocent delight. She derived pleasure even from this pleasant sound.
"I was thinking to myself, and I believed I was speaking aloud. Do you think I look twenty-five?"
"No, indeed, my lady, not by many years. You look younger than I do."
"And you are not eighteen, Dionetta."
"Not yet, my lady."
Adelaide's eyes sparkled. It was indeed true that she looked younger than her maid, who was in herself a beauty and young-looking.
"Dionetta," she said, presently, after a pause, "I have had a curious dream."
"I saw you close your eyes for a moment, my lady."
"I dreamt I was the most beautiful woman in all this wide world."
"You are, my lady."