hose
of her sister, the Duquesa de Montpensier, had been brought up together,
and there was a boy-and-girl attachment between the Prince of Asturias
and his cousin Mercedes. When Alfonso became King, almost as it seemed
by accident, and it was thought necessary that he should marry, the boy
gravely assured his Ministers that he was quite willing to do so, and in
fact intended to marry his cousin. Nothing could be more inopportune,
nothing more contrary to the welfare of the distracted country! From the
time that the notorious "Spanish marriages" had become facts, the Duke
of Montpensier had been an intriguer. The birth of heirs to the throne
of Spain (it is useless to go back to those long-past scandals) had
completely upset the machinations of Louis Philippe and his Ministers.
So long as Don Francisco de Assis and the Spanish nation chose to
acknowledge the children as legitimate, there was nothing to be done.
The direct hope of seeing his sons Kings of Spain faded from the view of
the French husband of the sister of Isabel II., but he never for one
moment ceased to intrigue. Although loaded with benefits and kindness by
the Queen, Montpensier took no small part in the revolution which drove
her from the country. Topete, and Serrano--who had once been what the
Spaniards called _Pollo Real_ himself--were bound in honour to uphold
his candidature for the vacant throne; their promise had been given long
before the _pronunciamiento_ at Cadiz had made successful revolution
possible. Prim alone stood firm: "_Jamas, jamas!_" (Never, never!) he
replied to every suggestion to bring Montpensier forward. In those words
he signed his own death-warrant. His actual murderers were never brought
to justice, ostensibly were never found; but there never was a Spaniard
who doubted that the foul deed was the result of instigation.

[Illustration: IN THE WOODS AT LA GRANJA]

To have Mercedes as Queen Consort, was to bring her father once more
within the limits of practical interference with national politics. To
all remonstrance, however, the young King had one answer: "I have
promised," and the nation, recognising that as a perfectly valid
argument, acquiesced, though with many forebodings. The marriage took
place, and within a few months the girl Queen was carried with her
unborn child to the melancholy Panteon de los Principes at the Escorial.

The marriage of the Infanta Isabel with Count Girgenti, a Neapolitan
Bourbon, was an unhapp