The smart or fashionable life of Seville may be studied, after five in the evening in the warm months, in the narrow central thoroughfare called Sierpes, or in the drives of the beautiful gardens bordering the Guadalquivir. The Calle de Sierpes signifies in English the street of the serpents. It is a street for foot passengers only, with many _cafés_, wine bars, nick-nack stores, and superior hatters', tailors' and tobacconists' shops. In this quarter ladies will find a fine array of fans, _mantillas_ and showy Andalusian shawls. Some of these articles bear the label 'made in Austria.' The shawls worn by the _majas_, or Sevillian smart dames, and maidens of the middle and working class, are sometimes very beautiful. Yellow is a favourite hue, as it accords with the black which is universally worn by the women of southern Spain. The _majo_ costume, as 'sported' by the dandies of Sierpes, is correctly made up of a wide-brimmed brown or white felt hat, a shirt with a frilled front, and diamond or paste studs, a low waistcoat, or broad silk band around the middle, a short coat, resembling an Eton jacket, and trousers cut exceedingly tight across the hips. A _majo_ affects the dress and conversation of his ideal, the bull-fighter. He favours the tightest, thin-soled, pointed brown shoes, crops his hair, shaves his cheeks and chin clean, walks with a self-consciousness, and ogles and bandies repartee whenever he passes a _maja_. The loungers of Sierpes exhibit more or less amused interest in the English or American lady visitors. Their hats are a wonder to them; their serviceable travelling dresses appear severely plain, their coats masculine in fashion, and their shoes short, broad, and absurdly low in the heel. How different is the guise and demeanour of the Spanish _señora_! If she is of the upper rank of society, she may wear a Parisian hat and a dress in the English style; but her slow, erect and graceful walk proclaim her an Andalusian. She will not start and seem insulted when a man stares her full in the face, smiles, and exclaims: 'How lovely you are! Blessed be the mother who bore you!' A parting of the lips, perhaps a slight flush, show that she is pleased when the gallant turns to gaze at her. So much has been sung and written about the loveliness of the Sevillian _doñas_ that I may perhaps be taken to task if I do not join in the rapturous chorus. The beauty of the Andalusian women does not startle one immediately upon setting foot in Seville. It seems to me to be a charm that needs comprehension. Undoubtedly you may see a proportion of handsome faces among the ladies in the evening parade in the park, on the racecourse, at the bull fights, and in the theatres. If you expect to find that every other woman in Seville is a belle--well, I think you will be disappointed.