When the English guide threw open the door at the head of the stair, Philip for the first time looked upon the woman who was to be his second wife. Mary was slowly pacing the long passage or gallery lined with tapestry, which constituted the room. Two gentlemen bore torches before her, and with her were Gardiner and three or four other aged men and some ladies-in-waiting. Philip hung back a few seconds whilst Egmont entered the room. He, being known to the Queen, was greeted by her graciously; and then, as she caught sight of the smart figure of her bridegroom, she walked rapidly towards him, and kissed her hand before she grasped his. Philip did the same, and, in the English fashion of the time, gallantly kissed his elderly bride upon her lips. Mary was, as usual, splendidly dressed, and her trim little figure must have looked stately enough in her black velvet gown, cut high at the neck, her petticoat of frosted silver, her coif of black velvet and gold, and wonderful girdle, collar, and pendants of flashing gems. Her complexion was of that peculiar transparency which usually accompanies red hair; her eyes, which were also of ruddy brown, were almost without eyebrows, as her father’s had been; and her somewhat austere face was wreathed now with smiles of welcome to the man for whose coming she had yearned. Leading him by the hand to a chair beside her own beneath the canopy, she replied in French to his Spanish compliments. Whilst they were thus seated in happy converse, the irrepressible Lord Admiral Howard broke in with some of his usual suggestive jokes, not in the best taste according to the ideas of to-day, but apparently accepted at that time as quite permissible. Then, one by one, the Spanish nobles were brought forward to kiss the Queen’s hand; and Philip, apparently finding the interview somewhat tedious, as his knowledge of French was not extensive, proposed that he should go into the adjoining apartment to greet the Queen’s ladies. Mary insisted upon accompanying him. The ladies, in pairs, were led forward to courtesy before the Prince, who, cap in hand, “in order not to violate the custom of the country, kissed each of them on the lips as they passed him.” The ceremony, probably, was not over-pleasant to Mary, for when, the kissing being at an end, Philip suggested that it was getting late and he had better retire, the Queen insisted upon leading him to the canopy again for another chat.