Yes--that seemed all right, thought Mabel. Mr. Francis’s voice moved on hastily. “A new procession enters at this point, after the discourse,” he said. “It is this that will need special marshalling. I suppose no rehearsal will be possible?” “Scarcely,” said Oliver, smiling. The Master of Ceremonies sighed. “I feared not. Then we must issue very precise printed instructions. Those who take part will withdraw, I imagine, during the hymn, to the old chapel of St. Faith. That is what seems to me the best.” He indicated the chapel. “After the entrance of the procession all will take their places on these two sides--here--and here--while the celebrant with the sacred ministers---” “Eh?” Mr. Francis permitted a slight grimace to appear on his face; he flushed a little. “The President of Europe---” He broke off. “Ah! that is the point. Will the President take part? That is not made clear in the ritual.” “We think so,” said Oliver. “He is to be approached.” “Well, if not, I suppose the Minister of Public Worship will officiate. He with his supporters pass straight up to the foot of the altar. Remember that the figure is still veiled, and that the candles have been lighted during the approach of the procession. There follow the Aspirations printed in the ritual with the responds. These are sung by the choir, and will be most impressive, I think. Then the officiant ascends the altar alone, and, standing, declaims the Address, as it is called. At the close of it--at the point, that is to say, marked here with a star, the thurifers will leave the chapel, four in number. One ascends the altar, leaving the others swinging their thurifers at its foot--hands his to the officiant and retires. Upon the sounding of a bell the curtains are drawn back, the officiant tenses the image in silence with four double swings, and, as he ceases the choir sings the appointed antiphon.” He waved his hands. “The rest is easy,” he said. “We need not discuss that.” To Mabel’s mind even the previous ceremonies seemed easy enough. But she was undeceived. “You have no idea, Mrs. Brand,” went on the _ceremoniarius_, “of the difficulties involved even in such a simple matter as this. The stupidity of people is prodigious. I foresee a great deal of hard work for us all.... Who is to deliver the discourse, Mr. Brand?” Oliver shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said. “I suppose Mr. Snowford will select.” Mr. Francis looked at him doubtfully. “What is your opinion of the whole affair, sir?” he said. Oliver paused a moment. “I think it is necessary,” he began. “There would not be such a cry for worship if it was not a real need. I think too--yes, I think that on the whole the ritual is impressive. I do not see how it could be bettered....” “Yes, Oliver?” put in his wife, questioningly. “No--there is nothing--except ... except I hope the people will understand it.” Mr. Francis broke in.