She slowly unclosed her eyes. But no leafy branches spread their matted foliage above her head; lovely rosy curtains fell instead on either side of her soft little couch. She raised herself—surprised and wondering—at her first movement, Fido already on the alert, capered across the tesselated floor, oddly slipping hither and thither on its smooth surface.
She stepped carefully from her alcove, and proceeded on a voyage of exploration. She soon ascertained that the sound of running water was no vain product of her own imagination, but that it came from a recess corresponding to that in which she had slept. Within this niche a marble Triton poured through his conch-shell a continuous stream. On either side the entrance to the snowy basin beneath, a nymph so stood that the roseate curtains could either be held back in their extended arms, or loosened completely to shut off the recess from the rest of the room.
Overjoyed at discovering this welcome substitute for her oft-regretted forest spring, Fidunia swiftly performed her simple toilet.
With all the carelessness of one little accustomed to regard her personal appearance, she hardly even glanced at the magnificent burnished mirror and its costly accessories, but hastened from window to window, eager to become acquainted with her new abode.
Towards the south, connected outside by a shady verandah, three long windows fronted the open bay, commanding the same extensive view that had delighted her the evening before. Two of similar form opened eastward, and Fidunia could scarcely repress a shudder, as raising her eyes to scan the more distant horizon, she beheld, frowning behind nearer slopes of verdant loveliness, the grim mountain of her dreams, whose gloomy boundaries she had skirted on the previous day. A slumberous cloud partially shrouded its dark heights. In the vista of coast, cape, and blue headland lengthening beyond, earth, sea, and sky, melted into one indistinguishable haze of atmospheric beauty.
Easily unfastening one of these eastern windows, Fidunia perceived a flight of steps leading thence into the palace gardens below. Followed by Fido, the fearless child of nature quickly descended the stairs, and plunged into the artificial intricacies of the pleasure grounds beneath.
A thrill of remembrance came upon her. Surely she had trodden these trim-kept walks before, and inhaled the strange rich odour of the blossoming orange that hung heavy on the air?
Stopping, bewildered, she raised her hand to her brow. As she thus stood rapt in thought, the noise of approaching voices apprised her that Antiphates, leaning on the arm of Domenichino, drew near. Swift as lightning, recollection flashed across her. While the impatient monarch came towards her, guided by his servant, she half expected to see and hear the tiny elves who in her forest dreams had swung and sung their eerie refrain amid just such scenes as these.
When the King learned that she had not yet broken her fast, he commanded food to be brought to an arbour near at hand, where he himself joined his guest. He found much entertainment in trying to follow the movements of the little dog, who, summoned by his mistress, went through all his pretty tricks.
With unwonted softness in his voice and manner, Antiphates strove to set Fidunia at her ease, and to engage her in conversation. He led her on to speak of herself and of her previous lonely life. He encouraged her to tell him all that had befallen her since she left the forest.