"Does Marta Angrisani, the sick-nurse, live here?" inquired the
man, as soon as Nanina showed herself at the window.
"Yes," she answered. "Must I call her up? Is there some person
ill?"
"Call her up directly," said the servant; "she is wanted at the
Ascoli Palace. My master, Count Fabio--"
Nanina waited to hear no more. She flew to the room in which the
sick-nurse slept, and awoke her, almost roughly, in an instant.
"He is ill!" she cried, breathlessly. "Oh, make haste, make
haste! He is ill, and he has sent for you!"
Marta inquired who had sent for her, and on being informed,
promised to lose no time. Nanina ran downstairs to tell the
servant that the sick-nurse was getting on her clothes. The man's
serious expression, when she came close to him, terrified her.
All her usual self-distrust vanished; and she entreated him,
without attempting to conceal her anxiety, to tell her
particularly what his master's illness was, and how it had
affected him so suddenly after the ball.
"I know nothing about it," answered the man, noticing Nanina's
manner as she put her question, with some surprise, "except that
my master was brought home by two gentlemen, friends of his,
about a couple of hours ago, in a very sad state; half out of his
mind, as it seemed to me. I gathered from what was said that he
had got a dreadful shock from seeing some woman take off her
mask, and show her face to him at the ball.
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