and reflected the light, things
of gold and silver, of jade and lapis lazuli, in a sort of tasteless
profusion that detracted from the beauty of each, and made Dolores feel
that she had been suddenly transported out of her own element into
another that was hard to breathe and in which it was bad to live. It
oppressed her, and though her courage was undiminished, the air of the
place seemed to stifle her thought and speech.

As she entered she saw the King in profile, seated in his great chair at
some distance from the fire, but looking at it steadily. He did not
notice her presence at first. Antonio Perez sat at the table, busily
writing, and he only glanced at Dolores sideways when he heard the door
close after her. She sank almost to the ground as she made the first
court curtsey before advancing, and she came forward into the light. As
her skirt swept the ground a second time, Philip looked slowly round,
and his dull stare followed her as she came round in a quarter of a wide
circle and curtsied a third time immediately in front of him.

She was very beautiful, as she stood waiting for him to speak, and
meeting his gaze fearlessly with a look of cold contempt in her white
face such as no living person had ever dared to turn to him, while the
light of anger burned in her deep grey eyes. But for the presence of the
Secretary, she would have spoken first, regardless of court ceremony.
Philip looked at her attentively, mentally comparing her with his young
Queen's placidly dull personality and with the Princess of Eboli's fast
disappearing and somewhat coarse beauty. For the Princess had changed
much since Titian had painted his very flattering picture, and though
she was only thirty years of age, she was already the mother of many
children. Philip stared steadily at the beautiful girl who stood waiting
before him, and he wondered why she had never seemed so lovely to him
before. There was a half morbid, half bitter savour in what he felt,
too,--he had just condemned the beauty's father to death, and she must
therefore hate him with all her heart. It pleased him to think of that;
she was beautiful and he stared at her long.

"Be seated, Dona Dolores," he said at last, in a muffled voice that was
not harsh. "I am glad that you have come, for I have much to say to
you."

Without lifting his wrist from the arm of the chair on which it rested,
the King moved his hand, and his long forefinger pointed to a low
cushioned s