all the characteristics of a Spaniard, but, from their very novelty
attracted the admiration of her subjects. Beautiful she was not; but
her charm lay in the variable expression of her features. Peculiarly
and sweetly feminine, infused, as Washington Irving observes, with "a
soft, tender melancholy," as was their general expression, they could
yet so kindle into indignant majesty, so flash with reproach or scorn,
that the very color of the eye became indistinguishable, and the
boldest and the strongest quailed beneath the mighty and the holy
spirit, which they could not but feel, that frail woman form
enshrined.

[Footnote A: Isabella was eight or ten years Ferdinand's senior.]

Round the sovereigns were grouped, in no regular order of march, but
forming a brilliant _cortége_, many of the celebrated characters of
their reign--men, not only of war, but of literature and wisdom, whom
both monarchs gloried in distinguishing above their fellows, seeking
to exalt the honor of their country, not only in extent of dominion,
but by the shining qualities of her sons. It was to this group the
strained gaze of Marie turned, and became riveted on the Queen,
feeling strangely and indefinably a degree of comfort as she gazed; to
explain wherefore, even to herself, was impossible; but she felt as if
she no longer stood alone in the wide world, whose gaze she dreaded;
a new impulse rose within her, urging her, instead of remaining
indifferent, as she thought she should, to seek and win Isabella's
regard. She gazed and gazed, till she could have fancied her
very destiny was in some way connected with the Queen's visit to
Segovia--that some mysterious influences were connecting her,
insignificant as she was, with Isabella's will. She strove with the
baseless vision; but it would gain ground, folding up her whole mind