perfume.

The little Princess herself walked up and down the terrace with her
companions, and played at hide and seek round the stone vases and
the old moss-grown statues. On ordinary days she was only allowed
to play with children of her own rank, so she had always to play
alone, but her birthday was an exception, and the King had given
orders that she was to invite any of her young friends whom she
liked to come and amuse themselves with her. There was a stately
grace about these slim Spanish children as they glided about, the
boys with their large-plumed hats and short fluttering cloaks, the
girls holding up the trains of their long brocaded gowns, and
shielding the sun from their eyes with huge fans of black and
silver. But the Infanta was the most graceful of all, and the most
tastefully attired, after the somewhat cumbrous fashion of the day.
Her robe was of grey satin, the skirt and the wide puffed sleeves
heavily embroidered with silver, and the stiff corset studded with
rows of fine pearls. Two tiny slippers with big pink rosettes
peeped out beneath her dress as she walked. Pink and pearl was her
great gauze fan, and in her hair, which like an aureole of faded
gold stood out stiffly round her pale little face, she had a
beautiful white rose.

From a window in the palace the sad melancholy King watched them.
Behind him stood his brother, Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he hated,
and his confessor, the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, sat by his
side. Sadder even than usual was the King, for as he looked at the
Infanta bowing with childish gravity to the assembling counters, or
laughing behind her fan at the grim Duchess of Albuquerque who
always accompanied her, he thought of the young Queen, her mother,