ve
captured."

It was a fine entry, as circus folks say. First came Mrs. Wellington
in a simple but wonderfully effective embroidered linen gown, then her
two sons, likely enough boys, and then Anne Wellington with Prince
Koltsoff. She almost touched Armitage as she passed; the skirt of her
lingerie frock swished against his ankles and behind she left, not
perfume, but an intangible essence suggestive, somehow, of the very
personality of the cool, beautiful, lithe young woman. As Armitage
turned in response to Thornton's prod in the ribs, he met her eyes in
full. But she gave no sign of recognition, and of course Armitage did
not.

The Wellingtons had two pews, according to the diagram on the rear
seats, and as Armitage followed the party with his eyes, he saw the
mother, her daughter, and the Prince enter one, the boys seating
themselves in the stall ahead.

In the meantime the congregation had assembled in large numbers and the
body of the church as well as the side aisles were comfortably filled.
From time to time the ushers, with machine-like precision, took one or
two persons from the patiently waiting line of non-pew-holders and
escorted them to seats, a proceeding which began to irritate Armitage,
seeing which Thornton grinned and observed, _sotto voce_, that one
might worship here only at the price of patience.

"It's the sheep and the goats, Jack," he whispered.

"I don't know about the sheep, but we 're the goats, all right,"
replied Armitage, "and I for one am going to beat it right now."

He had started for the door and Thornton was following when an usher
hurrying up touched him on the shoulder, bowing unctuously.

"Miss Wellington," he said, "asked to have you gentlemen shown into the
Wellington pew."

His voice clearly indicated that he felt he had been neglecting angels
unawares, to say nothing of a desire to atone for his indiscretion.

The young men nodded as indifferently as the situation seemed to
require and followed the man to the stall in which the boys were
seated, who pushed in hospitably enough and then returned to their
prayer books.

It must be said that two handsomer men, or men better constructed
physically, never sat together in old Trinity; Thornton a perfect,
brawny, rangy blonde; Armitage, shorter, better knit, perhaps, with
shoulders just as broad, and short crinkling brown hair surmounting his
squarely defined, sun-browned features.

The sermon was somewhat revoluti