The third was Semiramis, a quarter moon low above the exotic turrets behind her crowned head, a long-handled fan in her hand, like the fan of a servant. Again, she was glad that she could hide her amusement. Ah, those star-crossed lovers, thought Constance. She struggled to contain herself as her eyes moved to the second vignette: here was fair Juliet, standing beneath rather than on her balcony, garbed in simple lines, her head wreathed in flowers, a cross of stars high above her. She was momentarily grateful for her veil, not only for the concealment of her identity but also of her amused response to the scene before her.
Constance could not help thinking the star so large and bright might have shone over Bethlehem. “There was Brunhilde, a star shining high above the hillside behind her, dark, rippling hair hanging below her waist, standing in full command, spear in hand.
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