Her dress was of black velvet, that swept the polished floor, spangled all over with stars of gold and rich rubies.

A profusion of shining black hair fell in waves and curls almost to her feet; but her face, from forehead to chin, was completely hidden by a black velvet mask.

In one hand, exquisitely small and white, she held a gold casket, blazing (like her dress) with rubies, and with the other she toyed with a tame viper, that had twined itself round her wrist.

This was doubtless La Masque, and becoming conscious of that fact Sir Norman made her a low and courtly bow.

She returned it by a slight bend of the head, and turning toward his companion, spoke: "You here, again, Mr.Ormiston! To what am I indebted for the honor of two visits in two days ?" Her voice, Sir Norman thought, was the sweetest he had ever heard, musical as a chime of silver bells, soft as the tones of an aeolian harp through which the west wind plays.
"Madam, I am aware my visits are undesired," said Ormiston, with a flushing cheek and, slightly tremulous voice; "but I have merely come with my friend, Sir Norman Kingsley, who wishes to know what the future has in store for him." Thus invoked, Sir Norman Kingsley stepped forward with another low bow to the masked lady.
"Yes, madam, I have long heard that those fair fingers can withdraw the curtain of the future, and I have come to see what Dame Destiny is going to do for me." "Sir Norman Kingsley is welcome," said the sweet voice, "and shall see what he desires.