eart
and hand, and bade them remember, no individual was so insignificant
as to remove his shoulder from the wheel on plea of uselessness. She
trusted to her citizen subjects to raise the internal glory of her
kingdom, as she did to her nobles to guard their safety, elevate her
chivalry, and by their untarnished honor and stainless valor, present
an invincible front to foreign foes. Isabella knew human nature well;
the citizens returned to their houses bound for ever to her service.

Don Luis Garcia had joined the train of Morales when he set forth to
meet the sovereigns. His extraordinary austerity and semblance of
lowly piety, combined as they were with universal talent, had been so
much noised abroad as to reach the ears of Ferdinand and Isabella; and
Morales, ever eager to promote the interests of a countryman, took
the earliest opportunity of presenting him to them. He was graciously
enough received: but, though neither spoke it, an indefinable feeling
of disappointment took possession of their minds, the wherefore they
knew not. Don Luis had conversed well, both as to the matter and
the manner; but neither Ferdinand nor Isabella felt the smallest
inclination to advance him to any post about themselves. In virtue
of his supposed rank, however, he of course mingled with the courtly
crowd, which on the appointed evening thronged the mansion of Don
Ferdinand.

Tremblingly as Marie looked forward to that evening, she spared no
pains to gratify her husband in the choice of her toilet. Sorrow had
never made her indifferent, and she sought to please him even in the
most trifling occurrences of life. Her beautiful hair still lay in
soft, glossy bands against the delicate cheeks, and was gathered up
behind in a massive plait, forming, as it were, a diadem at the back
of the exquisitely shaped head, from which fell a white veil--rather,
perhaps, a half mantle, as it shaded the shoulders, not the face--of
silver tissue, so delicately woven as to resemble lace, save in its
glittering material. A coronet of diamonds was wreathed in and out
the plait, removing all semblance of heaviness from the headgear, and
completely divesting it of gaudiness. Her robe, of blue brocade, so
closely woven with silver threads as to glisten in the light of a
hundred lamps almost like diamonds, had no ornament save the large
pearls which looped up the loose sleeves above the elbow, buttoned
the bodice or jacket down the front, and richly embroid