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instinctively turned in the direction of the entrance at the sound of
their many footsteps. As they marched down the aisle every breath was
held; then as they began to file into the pews reserved for them, the
subdued murmur began again.

Marjorie and her father sat to the rear of the church in the company of
the early arrivals. In fact the entire Allison family occupied the same
pew, pressed, indeed, for room on account of the multitude which crowded
its way into the church and into the small aisles. Round about them on
every side sat the congregation, some of whom were already familiar to
them, the majority of whom, however, were total strangers. From their
appearance and demeanor it was not difficult to conclude, Marjorie
thought, that more than one-half of them were non-Catholic.

The inside of the church was adorned in splendid array with the emblems
of France and the United States. In the sanctuary, on each side of the
altar, stood two large flags of the allied nations, while across the
choir gallery in the rear of the church, there stretched in festoons,
the colors of the infant republic superimposed in the middle by a shield
bearing the likeness of Louis XVI. On the altar bloomed a variety of cut
flowers, arranged in an artistic and fanciful manner on the steps of the
reredos amidst a great profusion of white unlighted candles. The three
highest candlesticks on each side had been lighted, and the little
tongues of living flame were leaping from them joyfully. Over the
tabernacle a large crucifix raised aloft, while just before the door of
the tabernacle rested the chalice with its white veil, arranged in the
form of a truncated triangle, shielding it from view.

For several minutes after the honorable body had been seated there was a
confusion of feet and forms as the members of the congregation surged
into the church. The pews filled quickly, and the more tardy and less
fortunate individuals sought places along the aisles and along the rear.
Overhead the small organ gasped and panted the strains of a martial air,
the uneven throbbing of its bellows emphasizing the fatigue and
exhaustion of its faithful operator.

"Is that the French Ambassador?" whispered Marjorie to her father.

"With the brocade and lace. Yes. Next to him is Mr. Hancock, President
of the Congress."

She looked and saw the noble head and dignified bearing of the
statesman. He sat very erect and majestic, presenting an appearance of
ta