ay to the head of the
room, where she, with her high-bred worldly air, received them with a
smile and pleasant passing words.

"Your _Matinee_ is the most brilliant of the season, Mrs. Jerrold,"
said a fashionable old lady, with a dowager air--such a one as we meet
with constantly in society, who, tangled up in laces, false hair, and a
modish style of dress, look like old faries at a christening, and who
impress the young and inexperienced by their affected zest that the
fleeting pleasures of life are immortal. "Your _matinee_ is really
splendid! Such a fashionable company--so much beauty--really, it
reminds me of old times. But, my dear creature, did you know there is
the greatest sensation in town now about religion?"

"How?" asked Helen, smiling.

"The Romanists are holding something they call a _mission_ at the
cathedral, and really, I am told, that the performances are very
impressive. It is quite the fashion to go for an hour."

"It is never considered _outre_ to go to the cathedral, as the very
_elite_ of our society are Catholic, and attend there; but _entre
nous_, shall _you_ go, Mrs. Jerrold?" observed a lady near them.

"Yes," continued the dowager, with a spiteful air; "and very few
parvenues amongst them. Most of them sprung from something better than
low trades-people."

"Granted. No doubt they enjoy their pedigree as much as I do the
substantial fortune my grandfather acquired by trade," said the lady,
pleasantly. "But, Mrs. Jerrold, the music is fine, the preacher
superbly eloquent, and every body goes now, instead of attending the
opera!"

This grated on Helen's ears. Classing the Church with the opera! But
what right had she, who trampled it under foot, to complain?

"Really, I have heard nothing of this mission before!" she said, with
an indifferent air. "What is it?"

"I really cannot tell exactly. Thousands go, and thousands come away
because they can't be accommodated with seats. Altogether with the
music, the eloquent preaching, and the crowd, it is quite a
_spectacle_."

"Yes," put in the dowager; "and that is all. It is a _spectacle_!"

"Judge Craven's wife and Major Boyd are amongst the converts; and the
Rev. Allan Baily," said the lady, with a wink at Helen.

"Oh, my God!" exclaimed the dowager; "Mr. Baily! It must be a lie--I
declare it must!"

"Will you have my _sal-volatile_, madam?" said the malicious lady,
enjoying the scene, while she offered her vinaigrett