She rang again, and this time the door was opened by some invisible hand, when Marietta, bearing in her hand a large silver waiter, advanced to a rickety table which stood near the ottoman, and placed upon it a most delicate breakfast, served in dishes of costly, chased silver. Not only the service was superb, but Marietta herself was attired in a costume which shamed the shabbiness of her high- born mistress.
Begging the countess's pardon for her unpunctuality, the maid proceeded to pour out the chocolate, which she handed in a cup of Sevras porcelain.
Lucretia rubbed her eyes. "Where, in the name of Aladdin, did you get that dress?—And where this service?"
"The dress was brought to me this morning, my lady, and the mantua- maker told me that it had been ordered by yourself; the jeweller who brought the services of silver told me the same thing."
"I!" cried the countess. "I order such costly things?"
"Why, yes, my lady, for the upholsterers have almost arranged the beautiful furniture you bought yesterday."
The countess smiled. "This is a prank of some carnival-mad jester, child," said she. "There is not a word of truth in it. I wish there were!"
"It is as true as that there are at least fifty workmen in the palace at this very moment," was Marietta's reply.
Lucretia made no answer. She sprang from her ottoman, and, crossing the room, threw open the door leading into the next saloon.
Marietta had spoken the sober truth. There they were all—fifty— some hanging satin curtains before the bare windows, others placing lofty mirrors in the recesses; one detachment uncovering the gilded furniture, another arranging it, while the last folds of a rich Turkey carpet were being smoothed in the corners of the room, where dainty tables held vases of costly workmanship, filled with rare flowers.