determined to make the best of things.

(e)--The real bishop this time, and his assistant, followed by a valet
with a suitcase, containing the proper habiliments for a prince of the
church while functioning. (A military term, since the Bishop had been in
the army.)

(f)--A few unimportant important people, very curious, and the women
uncertain about the proper garb for a festive occasion in a house of
mourning.

(g)--Set of silver table vases, belated.

(h)--Mr. and Mrs. Hendricks, Mayor and Mayoress-elect. Extremely
dignified.

(i)--An overfull taxicab, containing inside it Ellen, Edith, Dan and
Joe. The overflow, consisting of a tall young man, displaying repressed
excitement and new evening clothes, with gardenia, sat on the seat
outside beside the chauffeur and repeated to himself a sort of chant
accompanied by furious searchings of his pockets. "Money. Checkbook.
Tickets. Trunk checks," was the burden of his song.

(j)--Doctor Smalley and Annabelle. He left Annabelle outside.

* * * * *

The city moved on about its business. In thousands of homes the lights
shone down on little family groups, infinitely tender little groups. The
workers of the city were there, the doors shut, the fires burning. To
each man the thing he had earned, not the thing that he took. To all
men the right to labor, to love, and to rest. To children, the right
to play. To women, the hearth, and the peace of the hearth. To lovers,
love, and marriage, and home.

The city moved on about its business, and its business was homes.

* * * * *

At the great organ behind the staircase the organist sat. In stiff rows
near him were the Cardew servants, marshaled by Grayson and in their
best.

Grayson stood, very rigid, and waited. And as he waited he kept his eyes
on the portrait of old Anthony, in the drawing-room beyond. There was a
fixed, rapt look in Grayson's eyes, and there was reassurance. It was as
though he would say to the portrait: "It has all come out very well, you
see, sir. It always works out somehow. We worry and fret, we old ones,
but the young come along, and somehow or other they manage, sir."

What he actually said was to tell a house maid to stop sniveling.

Over the house was the strange hush of waiting. It had waited before
this, for birth and for death, but never before--

The Bishop was waiting also, and he too had his