"And do you mean to say you aren't going to do anything to this cursed Baptist? What are the laws good for, anyhow?" Herod grinned. "They're good for nothing when an election's only six months off." The woman tried to speak; she could not. "It's a damned shame," she cried out, at last, still in the same hoarse voice. Salome turned her head. "Oh, mamma," she said, "how awfully vulgar." The mother glared at the daughter. She looked as though she were about to speak, but she only said, "Pshaw!" There was a minute or two of silence. Herod stood with his hands in his pockets. "Was Corry King here, do you know?" he said, at last. Herodias shook her head. Then Herod turned away and walked across the room towards the library. Just as he was about to quit the room, Herodias spoke again. "Did you get that box for the opera to-night?" He stopped at the door and turned. "Yes, I did," he said. "Did you leave orders for the carriage?" "Yes; I ordered it for eight o'clock, sharp." Then he went on out of the room. III THE PRIESTS AND THE LEVITES MR. THEODORE CAIAPHAS was rector of the Church of the Advent. It was said of that church that when the congregation were all at the sanctuary and seated in their places the building contained a representation of capital equivalent to a billion dollars of wealth. It is hardly necessary to describe the Church of the Advent, for nearly everybody knows of it; even those who do not live in the metropolis have seen pictures of it. It occupied, with the rectory, half a square of ground in one of the most valuable parts of the city. It was estimated that if the land on which it stood were covered all over with ten-dollar bills, an approximate value of the real estate would just about be represented. The church itself was an architectural triumph, within and without. It was built of white marble, carved elaborately and exquisitely; the four large windows cost it cannot be told how many thousands of dollars, and the interior decorations were all that art could make them. The church was connected with the rectory by a glazed cloister of exquisite proportions, and the rectory itself, retired well back from the street behind parti-colored beds of flowering plants, was in perfect keeping with the church. The great plate-glass windows looked out across the little lawn upon the busy street where the thunder of life was forever passing and repassing.