"It is Winfield Scott, just up from Williamsburgh. He doesn't like the law and will go into the army. Here are all the Randolphs and the beautiful Mrs. Peyton!" Unity moved to let Jacqueline reënter the pew. The church was beginning to fill, and the whispering and noise of fluttering fans increased. All the windows were open to the breeze, and the soft scents and sounds and colours, the dimness within the church, and the August skies and waving trees without, combined to give a drowsy, mellow, and enchanted air to old Saint John's and to the gathering people. "The choir have come into the gallery," said Fairfax Cary. "I hear the scrape of Fitzwhyllson's viol." "The quiet is over and here comes the world," answered Jacqueline. "Who is that with Mr. Wickham--the tall, lean man?" "It is the Governor of Tennessee and a fire-eater for Burr--Andrew Jackson by name. The third man is Luther Martin." "He may be learned in the law," murmured Unity, "but I would like to know the University that taught him dress. See, Jacqueline, Charlotte Foushee has the newest bonnet yet!" "That is Commodore Truxtun coming in with Edmund Randolph. He looks a seaman, every inch of him! Who is the young gentleman in blue?" "Oh, that," replied Unity, "is Mr. Washington Irving of New York. He has just returned from the Grand Tour, and he writes most beautifully. He has sent me an acrostic for my keepsake that--that--" "That I could not have written had I tried till doomsday," finished Fairfax Cary. "Do you like acrostics, Mrs. Rand?" Jacqueline smiled. "No, nor keepsakes either. Unity and I both like strong prose and books with meanings. Her _façons de parler_ are many." "Well, anyhow," said Miss Dandridge, "I like Mr. Washington Irving. He doesn't only write acrostics; he writes prose as well. Here is the Chief Justice." "The second bell is ringing. We'll have all the churchyard now. Here comes the Tenth Legion--Hay, Wirt, and McRae! Mark Wirt bow to Martin!" "Will General Wilkinson be here?" "Speak of--one that's often named in church--and see the waving of his red cockfeather! This is the General now. Ahem! he looks what he is." "And the other with the sash?" "Eaton. They are both tarred with the same brush! Here, coming toward us, is one of very different make! You met him yesterday, did you not? Ha! Captain Decatur, allow me to give you anchorage!" As he spoke, he held open the pew door. Captain Stephen Decatur smiled, bowed, and entered, and was presently greeting with a manly, frank, and engaging manner the beautiful Mrs. Rand and the equally lovely Miss Dandridge, to both of whom he had been presented at an evening entertainment. The church was now filled and the bell ceased ringing. From the gallery came the deeper growl of the bass viol and the preliminary breath of a flute. A moment more and the minister walked up the aisle and, mounting the tall old pulpit, invoked a blessing, then gave out in a fine mellow voice with a strong Scotch accent:--