Then was born again that sweet feminine gift of coquetry: girls once more pretended to be cruel, whimsical, giddy, careless, and mischievous; the hard and anxious look vanished from their faces, and was replaced by sweet, soft smiles; flirtation was revived under another name--many names. A maiden loved to have half a dozen--yea, she did not mind half a hundred--dangling after her, or kneeling at her feet, men were taught that they must woo, not be wooed, and that a woman's love is not a thing to be had for the mere asking: and dancing was revived--real honest dancing of sweetheart and maid. There was laughter once more in the land; and all the songs were rewritten; and such pieces were enacted upon the stage as would but a month ago have taken everybody's breath away. And there was a general burning of silly books and bad pictures; and they began to open churches for the new Worship, and always more and more the image of the Divine Man filled woman's heart. Finally, these things having been settled in the best way possible, it was resolved to hold the Coronation of the King at Westminster Abbey. * * * * * 'Constance,' he said holding her in his arms, 'you believe that I have always loved you, do you not?' 'I pray your Majesty,' she said, humbly, 'to forgive my errors of the past.' 'My dear, what is there to forgive?' 'Nay, now I know. There is the Perfect Woman; but she lives in the shadow of the Divine Man: she has her place in the Order of the World; but it is not the highest place. We reigned for a hundred years and more, and everything fell to pieces; you return, and all begins to advance again. It is as if the foot of woman destroyed the flowers which spring up beneath the foot of man. King, if I am to become your wife, I shall also become your most faithful subject.' 'You are my Queen,' he said; 'together we will reign: it may be for the good of our people. We have little strength of ourselves, but we seek it--love----' 'We seek it,' she replied, lifting her eyes to Heaven, 'of the Divine Man.' * * * * * On the day of the Coronation, by Royal Order, all classes of the people were bidden to the ceremony; as many as could be admitted were invited to the Abbey. Along the line of march they had raised seats one above the other, covered with awnings. An innumerable crowd of people gathered at early morning, and took their places, waiting patiently for eleven, the hour of the procession. At ten the Peers began to arrive--the newly recognised Peers--the men who had been brought up in ignorance of their origin and rank. They were uneasy in their robes and coronets; they had been carefully instructed in their part of the ceremony, but they were nervous. However, the people outside did not know this, and they cheered lustily.