Hortense still fingered out her psalm as though ignoring the irruption of the world, the flesh, and the devil into her house. The three girls at the card-table sat with eyes cast down and hands folded demurely in prim laps. The grim old gentleman reclined in his chair, and stared at the intruders with the inimitable assurance of a Diogenes. Barbara remained by the window in isolation, while her mother and the widow were smiling and whispering together in a corner. The gentry of Whitehall appreciated the satirical humor of their welcome. Hortense was laughing at them with that dolorous canticle of hers. “Now, Thomas, where is your wit?” “Prick the bishop’s calves, he has gone to sleep.” They laughed and applauded as the figure in the silk gown moved forward into the room. Mr. Thomas Temple could play a variety of parts. His mimicry excelled in burlesquing the episcopate. “My children, let peace be upon this house.” And he gave them a pompous blessing with upraised hands. Hortense rose from the harpsichord with the assumed fire of a fanatic. “Children of Belial!” “Lady, pardon me, they are already qualifying as saints.” “What sayest thou, Antichrist, thou Red Man of Rome? Woe, woe unto this city when its priests wax fat in purple and fine linen!” The bishop extended reproving hands. “Woman, blaspheme not! We are here to save all souls with the kiss of peace. My children, come hither. Have you been baptized?” The three girls tittered. Hortense stood forward, flinging out one arm with a passionate gesture of scorn. “Behold the book of the beast. Behold the Serpent without a surplice! And you—ye children of iniquity—make way for Thomas with the wine!” There was a shout of laughter as my lord the bishop, picking up his skirts, cut a delighted caper. “Alas, she has bewitched me! St. Sack, where art thou—oh, strengthener of my soul?” A footman bearing a tray with flasks and glasses moved stolidly through the crowd. The mock churchman extended a protecting arm. “Bless you, my son. Blessed are all vintners and tavern-keepers! And you, madam” (he turned to her with a stately obeisance), “our Lord the King of his nobleness hath sent us to unbind your eyes—and to lead you into the paths of light. We will baptize those innocents yonder into the one true church, even the church of Sack—and Sashes. Let all the heathen rejoice for the souls we shall save this day from the pit of prudery. No woman can be saved unless she be kissed. Amen.” IX