they are going on."

"But the Churches did not send that gentleman. It was the Queen."

"Exactly," said I; "and isn't she the head of the Church. No, no,
cousin, you can't make excuses for them."

"But their mission is political," says he.

"Of course," says I. Church and State--I understood."

A whole lot of candles, white as snow, were burning over the wide doors.
That opened into another long room where a great picture, worked with a
needle, years and years ago, hung on the wall, and crowds of people were
moving about. Then came a storm of music, and I saw one of the ministers
teetering off with a lady as if he were going to dance again.

"I declare I won't look on," says I to Dempster; "take me somewhere
else."

He did take me into a little room full of books, and there--standing
round a table on which a great giant of a china bowl stood, filled to
the brim with punch, on which slices of lemon floated temptingly--we
found some more of them ministers, each one with a full glass in his
hand.

Sisters, I stood there like a monument, and saw them drink that punch
with my own eyes--more than one glass apiece, too. Ministers, indeed!

While we stood watching them in one door, they went out by another, and
then Dempster took us in.

E. E. sat down on a sofa; so did I. Dempster went up to the great bowl,
and began to dip out the punch with a big silver ladle as if it had been
soup. He filled two glasses. A slice of lemon floated on each one; they
looked deliciously cool, and I was thirsty. Sisters, I took that glass,
and I drank of the punch. After that I began to feel more charitable
toward the foreign ministers. In fact, I rather think a sweeter and more
benevolent feeling came over me in all respects, for a soft mistiness
settled on the crowd, and the dancers were peculiarly mazy. I felt
myself smiling blandly, and, in fact, glided into a state of dreamy
enjoyment that was pleasant.

The music stopped; the dancers locked arms, and moved toward an open
door through which a fresh flood of light was pouring. We followed into
a great tent, hung all round with damask linen. Two long tables, loaded
down with great vases full of fruit and flowers; steeples, and towers,
and baskets, made out of candy, and running over with sugar things;
peaches, and grapes, and all sorts of fruit, natural as life, but candy
to the core--all delicious and gorgeous and--well, I haven't language to
express it; but the whole thing was