oft carpet and in
under the canopy--and a man bewilderingly covered with gold lace, who
could be no less than a Marshal of France, though he seemed so effusive
and polite as he opened the carriage doors to welcome each new arrival,
was fixing her sternly with his eyes.

"Come, Marie-Louise," prompted Father Anton.

She felt the blood leave her face, and she drew very close to Father
Anton, clinging tightly to his arm. How fast her breath came! There
was laughter, merriment around her; they pressed against her, they
touched her, these wonderfully dressed people. How soft the carpet
was! How one's feet sank into it! It was a sacrilege that she should
walk upon it! How that constant murmur of voices rose and fell, rose
and fell! What were they saying? It seemed that she should know!
What was it? Yes, yes! "Jean Laparde ... Jean Laparde ... Jean
Laparde." From in front, from behind her, on either side, on every
tongue was the name of Jean Laparde. And it thrilled her, and her soul
in a clarion echo caught up the refrain. "Jean Laparde ... Jean
Laparde ... Jean Laparde!" And it seemed as though a thousand emotions
surging upon her were welded together and massed and made into one, and
that one was comparable to none she had ever known before because it
was too great, and overpowering, and bewildering to understand. Only
now she could lift up her head, and the blood was rushing proudly to
her cheeks again.

And now they were in a great marble vestibule, and Father Anton was
handing a card to an attendant, and speaking to the man.

"But Monsieur le Cure has full _entree_--to the floor," the man replied.

She did not catch Father Anton's answer--but the attendant was bowing
and speaking again.

"But certainly, monsieur--as Monsieur le Cure desires. To the right,
monsieur."

And then there were stairs, beautiful wide marble stairs, and the press
of people was left behind, for there seemed to be but few who climbed
the stairs; and then--and then--she was in a balcony, and below
her--ah, she could not see--it was all blurred before her--and there
seemed a great fear upon her, for her heart pounded so hard and so
fiercely. And then, strangely, as a mist rises from the sea, it began
to clear away, that blur from before her eyes, and myriad lights from a
massive chandelier, that was suspended from a great dome overhead,
played on the bare, flashing shoulders of women on the floor below her,
played on the jew