s which
surrounded the great image; her dark eyes, with their languid lashes,
her mouth, with the red lips, expressed a beautiful and immaculate
virtue. It might have been some earthly woman of whom the priest spoke,
one of those Andalusians that knelt below him, flashing quick glances at
the gallant who negligently leaned against a pillar.

The archbishop sat on his golden throne--a thin, small man with a
wrinkled face, with dead and listless eyes; in his gorgeous vestments
he looked hardly human, he seemed a puppet, sitting stilly. At the end
of the sermon he went back to the altar, and in his low, broken voice
read the prayers. And then turning towards the great congregation he
gave the plenary absolution, for which the Pope's Bull had been read
from the pulpit steps.

* * *

In the afternoon, when the sun was going down behind the Guadalquivir,
over the plain, I went again to the cathedral. The canons in the choir
still droned their chant in praise of the Blessed Virgin, and in the
greater darkness the altar shone more magnificently. The same procession
filed through the nave, some priests were in black, some in violet, some
in the Virgin's colours; but this time the archbishop wore gorgeous
robes of scarlet, and as he knelt at the altar his train spread to the
chancel steps. From the side appeared ten boys and knelt before the
altar, and stood in two lines facing one another. They were dressed like
pages of the seventeenth century, with white stockings and breeches, and
a doublet of blue and silver, holding in their hands hats with long
feathers. The archbishop, kneeling in front of the throne, buried his
face in his hands.

A soft melody, played by violins and 'cellos, broke the silence, and
presently the ten pages began to sing:

_Los cielos y la tierra alaben al Senor_
_Con imnos de alabanza que inflamen al Senor._

It was a curious, old-fashioned music, reminding one a little of the
quiet harmonies of Gluck. Then, putting on their hats, the pages danced,
continuing their song; they wound in and out of one another, gravely
footing it, swaying to and fro with the music very slowly. The measure
was performed with the utmost reverence. Now and then the chorus came,
and the fresh boys' voices, singing in unison, filled the church with
delightful melody. And still the old archbishop prayed, his face buried
in his hands.

The boys ceased to sing, but continued the dance, marking the time now
with cas