es and famous paintings, their variegated colours changing their hues under the shifting sunlight. The noble dame in the full-length portrait gazed down at the girl, with her grey eyes seeming to follow her every move, making Fiona feel as if the whole strange world was spinning at her feet.
She lifted the hem of her dress and ran up and down the grand and luxurious spiral staircase on her two slender legs like a birdling, exclaiming incredulously, "Is this really our house?"
"Your presence makes everything here so splendid like never before," the Marquis said, smiling indulgently at her.
He summoned the most skilled dressmakers, milliners, and shoemakers in town to create all kinds of exquisite and glittering puff skirts and small silk hats for the beautiful child.
All these lace and ribbons, pearls and agates, gems embedded in the staircase railings, the sparkling gold paint on the candlesticks and chandeliers, were all so dazzling to little Fiona.
But what excited her most was the doll lying on the bed in her bedroom: dressed in a delicately crafted pink tulle gown and with glossy blue enamel eyes, it was at least half the size of her own body.
"Now I have a doll too!" The little girl pounced onto the soft spring bed, tightly embracing her dream doll, and shouted in ecstasy.
"Your happiness is all that matters." The Marquis stared at her with pleasure.
She couldn''t bear to let go of Annabelle - the name she