The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide
open, folding back to the left. Outside a pair of
wooden shutters, opening outwards, also stand
open. On the balcony, a young lady, intensely
conscious of the romantic beauty of the night, and
of the fact that her own youth and beauty is a part
of it, is on the balcony, gazing at the snowy
Balkans. She is covered by a long mantle of furs,
worth, on a moderate estimate, about three times
the furniture of her room.

Her reverie is interrupted by her mother,
Catherine Petkoff, a woman over forty, imperiously
energetic, with magnificent black hair and eyes,
who might be a very splendid specimen of the wife
of a mountain farmer, but is determined to be a
Viennese lady, and to that end wears a fashionable
tea gown on all occasions.

CATHERINE (entering hastily, full of good news). Raina--(she
pronounces it Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee) Raina--(she
goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there.) Why,
where--(Raina looks into the room.) Heavens! child, are you out
in the night air instead of in your bed? You'll catch your
death. Louka told me you were asleep.

RAINA (coming in). I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The
stars are so beautiful! What is the matter?

CATHERINE. Such news. There has been a battle!