Below them the many-colored throng moved through the dainty measures of the dance. The sound of laughter and young voices blended with the sweet strains of the music. It seemed like fairyland to the two who looked down on it.
“We can only guess who they are until they take off their masks, but I think that fat one in the red mantle is my cousin Bertran du Monde,” Rosanne said, leaning far over and peering around the corner, as she tried to follow the figure of a boy in red.
Marie Josephine looked too.
“Yes, that is Bertran. What a fat, funny boy he is! Do you remember how he teased us the afternoon that he came to tea with us all in our schoolroom? He is a stupid boy. You do not mind my saying that even if he is your cousin, do you?” Marie Josephine laughed mischievously as she spoke.
Rosanne laughed happily.
“No, it is true. He is a stupid, fat boy, and he is often very rude. See, is that not your cousin Hortense, the tall girl dancing with——?”
Marie Josephine interrupted her.
“It’s Lisle, Hortense and Lisle. She is almost as tall as he is and she is only fifteen. She looks so very grown-up. How happy I should be if I could dance the minuet with Lisle! He always thinks me such a baby!”
Lisle