She opened the door softly, and entered the sleeping-room of the princess, followed by the other maids of honor.
"She sleeps yet," said the cameriera; "but I MUST waken her," murmured she to herself, "it is my duty."
She advanced, and drew aside the heavy folds of the pink silk curtains that hung around the bed.
"Pardon me, your highness," she whispered; "but—"
She stopped; for, to her great surprise, the princess was awake. She lay in her long white night-dress, with her hands crossed over her breast, and her head cushioned on the rose-colored pillow that contrasted painfully with the pallor of her marble-white face. Her large eyes were distended, and fixed upon a picture of the blessed Virgin that hung at the foot of the bed. Slowly her looks turned upon her attendants, who, breathless and frightened, gazed upon the rosy pillow, and the pallid face that lay in its midst, dazzling their eyes with its whiteness.
"Pardon me," again whispered the cameriera, "it is almost noonday."
"What hour?" murmured the princess.
"It is ten o'clock, your highness."
The princess shivered, and exclaimed, "For three days, then!" And turning away, she began to pray in a low voice, and none but God knew the meaning of that whispered prayer.
Her prayer over, she passed her little white hand over the dark locks that fell around her face and made an effort to rise.