THE INFANTA AND HER GUESTS.
"I went into my room and threw a world of bitter energy into my toilet,
angry with myself for not being beautiful enough to win one heart from
that pretty face, angry with him that he could not understand the depth
of feeling and of thought which made my preference so much more worthy
than anything that young creature could ever feel. I had a cruel
pleasure in depreciating myself, and almost hated the face which looked
into mine half angrily from the glass. Its large gray eyes, with their
thick lashes, seemed heavy with unshed tears. There was a frown on the
forehead, rendering it dark and turbulent. The mouth harmonized with
this stormy look, and trembled into half sarcastic smiles, as if each
feature reviled the other. Now I was larger, taller, more pronounced in
face and person than the pretty fairy who could entertain him so
flippantly, while I sat dumb and silent in his presence. No wonder I
hated myself, yet many persons had thought me good looking, and I could
recollect a thousand compliments on my talents and powers of pleasing,
which came to me then like remembered mockeries.
"I made no effort to look beautiful, but over my simple white dress
threw a lace mantilla, fastening it to my head with clusters of tea
roses, and allowing it to sweep over my person, black and shadowy, like
the thoughts that haunted my mind. This was a common dress among the
Spanish ladies, and I put it on that day for the first time, thinking to
escape the observation that a foreign costume was sure to provoke. Miss
Eaton gave an exclamation of delight when I went down to the parlor. If
any thing could inspire her to enthusiasm it was a novelty in dress.
"'Oh, how charming! And you have turned Spaniard,' she said, clasping
her little hands and examining me from head to foot, in a sort of
rapture. 'Ain't she splendid, Mr. Harrington! Those crimson roses look
superb in the black lace. I am sick of my bonnet. Just hold my parasol
while I make myself a senorita also.'
"She ran out of the room, snatching some orange blossoms from a vase as
she went, and sending back soft gushes of an opera song to us.
"'What a light-hearted creature she is,' said Harrington, watching her
with admiring eyes as she floated off. 'A lovely face, don't you think
so?'
"'Yes, I think so, a very lovely face.'
"Perhaps some of the bitterness in my heart found its way through my
voice. Something there was which disturbed James Harrington. He turned
and looked at me keenly, seemed about to make some reply, but checked
himself and began to play with the coral handle of Lucy's parasol.
Directly, Lucy Eaton came back more like a summer cloud than ever, for
over her head she had thrown a veil of Brussels point, delicate as a
mist, and white as frost. But for her canary colored gloves and blue
ribbons, she would have appeared in absolute bridal costume, for she had
twisted the orange blossoms into a pretty garland which held the veil or
mantilla over her head, and was blushing like a rose with a sense of her
own completeness.
"We started for the public square through which the procession was to
pass. The streets were full of people, men, women, and children, all in
their richest costume, and brilliant with expectation. Every woman had
the national fall of lace on her head, almost invariably fastened with
clusters of natural roses; some of these mantillas were marvels of
costly work, and fell shadow-like over those soft summer dresses, giving
them a graceful and cloud-like lightness. All Seville was on foot, no
carriages are permitted in the street during the holy week. Poor and
rich were, for the time, on a perfect level, and each came forth well
dressed and radiant, to honor the most interesting spectacle known to
the nation. It was like looking down on an out door opera when we
entered the queint stone balcony reserved for us, with fresh palm leaves
interwoven in the carved work, and cushioned chairs waiting for our
occupation. No flower garden was ever more radiant and blooming.
Hundreds of colored parasols swayed towards the sun like mammoth
poppies, gay fans kept the air in perpetual motion. Pretty white hands
twinkled recognition from friend to friend; floating lace gave a
cloud-like softness to the whole scene, indescribably beautiful. All was
eagerness and gay commotion. On the outskirts of the square, horsemen
with arms at their sides, were stationed like statues. The balconies
were hung with gorgeously tinted draperies, crowded with beautiful women
and garlanded with flowers.
"One balcony, more spacious than the rest, was richly ornamented with
draperies of crimson velvet falling from a gilded crown over head, and
drawn back by cords of heavy bullion. A flight of steps led to this
balcony from the street, and altogether it had a look of regal
magnificence which drew the general attention that way.
"While we were occupied with this novel scene, a hum and murmur of
voices drew the general attention toward one of the principal streets
entering the square. This was followed by a general commotion in the
crowd, through which a murmur, like that of hiving bees, ran to and fro;
ladies stood up, parasols swayed confusedly, expectation was in every
face.
"Directly the cause of all this excitement became apparent. The Infanta
had entered the square, and was approaching the royal balcony. She was a
lovely woman, very young and in the full bloom of her beauty, dark-eyed,
dark-haired, well formed, and carrying herself with queenly dignity,
which it is said the sovereign herself does not equal. The slanting
sunbeams fell directly upon her as she passed by our balcony in full
state; the train of her dress, blue as the sky, and looped with clusters
of pink roses, was carried by four noblemen, all richly attired, as if
the street had been some palace hall. Her dress was looped back at the
shoulders with aigrette of diamonds, whose pendent sparks dropped half
way to the elbow, quivering like fire from beneath the long white
mantilla that swept over her person as sweeps the blue of a summer sky.
The veil was fastened to her graceful head by a tiara of the same pure
gems, which twinkled through it like starlight on frost. Her walk was
queenly, her look full of sweet womanliness. They tell me she is
prettier and more popular than the queen, and I can readily believe it,
for this young creature is very lovely.
"The steps of the royal balcony descended directly to the pavement. The
Infanta mounted them, gliding upward with the grace of a bird of
paradise, followed by her train-bearers. Directly after she was seated,
the balcony filled from a room beyond it, into which the royal party had
assembled. Le Duc de Montpensier, his sister, Princess Clementina, and
her husband, the Duke of Saxe Coburg, the cousin of Prince Albert of
England, and two or three pretty children, mingled with the group,
giving it a domestic grace pleasant to contemplate."