Pretty Marietta little thought, as she stood before the glass, that such a desperate villain was watching every movement.
Marietta, wholly unconscious that she was watched by the vile brigand chief, walked up and down before the glass, shooting admiring glances at herself over her white and well rounded shoulders.
"Dress, and rank, and money do wonders," she said. "Why are we not all about equal? I'm as good as the best of them, I'm sure, and very much better looking."
With this mixture of feminine vanity and republican sentiments, she bustled about, putting the room a bit in order.
Now her first job was to put away several dresses.
The first of these was a short Spanish skirt of pink satin, with deep black lace flounces.
"I wonder how I should look in this?" she murmured.
She held up the dress beside her to test the colour against her complexion.
"Beautiful!"
Beautiful; yes, this was her frank opinion, and, really, we are by no means sure but that her own estimate was very near the mark.