citement swept across the field of bonnets until there was almost a
murmur as of rustling cornfields within the many colored walls of St.
John's.

In a remote pew, hidden under a gallery of the transept, two persons
looked on with especial interest. The number of strangers who crowded in
after them forced them to sit closely together, and their low whispers
of comment were unheard by their neighbors. Before the service began
they talked in a secular tone.

"Wharton's window is too high-toned," said the man.

"You all said it would be like Aladdin's," murmured the woman.

"Yes, but he throws away his jewels," rejoined the man. "See the big
prophet over the arch; he looks as though he wanted to come down--and I
think he ought."

"Did Michael Angelo ever take lessons of Mr. Wharton?" asked the woman
seriously, looking up at the figures high above the pulpit.

"He was only a prophet," answered her companion, and, looking in another
direction, next asked:

"Who is the angel of Paradise, in the dove-colored wings, sliding up the
main aisle?"

"That! O, you know her! It is Miss Leonard. She is lovely, but she is
only an angel of Paris."

"I never saw her before in my life," he replied; "but I know her bonnet
was put on in the Lord's honor for the first time this morning."

"Women should take their bonnets off at the church door, as Mussulmen do
their shoes," she answered.

"Don't turn Mahommedan, Esther. To be a Puritan is bad enough. The
bonnets match the decorations."

"Pity the transepts are not finished!" she continued, gazing up at the
bare scaffolding opposite.

"You are lucky to have any thing finished," he rejoined. "Since Hazard
got here every thing is turned upside down; all the plans are changed.
He and Wharton have taken the bit in their teeth, and the church
committee have got to pay for whatever damage is done."

"Has Mr. Hazard voice enough to fill the church?" she asked.

"Watch him, and see how well he'll do it. Here he comes, and he will hit
the right pitch on his first word."

The organ stopped, the clergyman appeared, and the talkers were silent
until the litany ended and the organ began again. Under the prolonged
rustle of settling for the sermon, more whispers passed.

"He is all eyes," murmured Esther; and it was true that at this
distance the preacher seemed to be made up of two eyes and a voice, so
slight and delicate was his frame. Very tall, slender and dark, his
thin, long face