meeting through her telephone. Montagu Vane was leaning on the back of her chair, while Gwen and Nettie Collins made themselves useful at the buffet. On the other side of the churchyard was Mrs Pottinger, with a good many of the American colony. They had absolutely declined Mrs Archibald’s invitation to join her at the windows of the dining-halls, preferring to mix with the crowd under the arcades. Beside her stood her Royal Guide, although she might by this time have very well dispensed with his services, but she kept him for Auld Lang Syne, and for all the fun she had formerly derived from the Royal Family; and perhaps also because she thought it would do him good, for she was not an ungrateful woman. “I see that the American colony has at last emerged from its voluntary seclusion,” said Lionel to Danford, as they drove up and took their position close to the steps. “Yes, my lord, they retired to learn the art of observation, and have achieved the task they set themselves to. Not only do they now recognise the people they knew, but they have actually acquired the faculty of putting names on to the faces they did not know.” “I am struck by the attitude of the American women. They move with the same grace and ease as when Doucet and Paquin turned them out into the social market.” “You are right, my lord, they have made nature herself quite elegant, and are teaching dowdy mother Eve a lesson in deportment.” “There is a downrightness in their demeanour which always upsets my equanimity,” said Lionel, laughing. “The American is a mathematical animal, my lord; and could a geometrical figure walk, it would impersonate the _tournure_ of a Yankee.” “Is that the Bishop coming out of the central porch?” “Yes, my lord, and Jack Roller is beside him,” replied Danford. “They are followed by representatives of all churches, who will group themselves round the prelate.” “The _coup d’œil_ is harmonious,” remarked Lionel; “it puts me in mind of Raphael’s _School of Athens_. Do you see on the right hand of the Bishop a group of thin, pale men, their arms linked in one another’s? I have no doubt those are Vicars and Curates. And notice on the left that cluster of older men leaning in an attitude of keen attention, shielding their ears with their hands, so as not to lose a syllable of the address.” “My lord, these are the Canons, Deans and Bishops. But watch that surging crowd on the steps in front of the Bishop. Some, lying down dejectedly, are supporting their hirsute faces with their right hands; others, seated with their knees up to their chins, look stubbornly in front of them. They are the Nonconformists, eager to know what this Church dignitary has to say to them.” “And what about those urbane men leaning modestly against the doors of the Cathedral?” inquired Lionel.