life. At that early date she had perceived
the usefulness to the aristocracy of the press, of general popularity,
and of mixed assemblies; things freely and openly sought for by society
to-day. Therefore the great cathedral of the western continent never
witnessed a more splendid ceremony than the wedding of Honora and
Arthur; and no event in the career of Anne Dillon bore stronger
testimony to her genius.

The Chief Justice of the nation headed the _elite_, among whom shone
like a constellation the Countess of Skibbereen; the Senator brought in
the whole political circle of the city and the state; Grahame marshaled
the journalists and the conspirators against the peace of England; the
profession of music came forward to honor the bride; the common people
of Cherry Hill went to cheer their hero; Monsignor drew to the sanctuary
the clerics of rank to honor the benefactor of the cathedral; and high
above all, enthroned in beauty, the Cardinal of that year presided as
the dispenser of the Sacrament.

As at the ordination of Louis the admirable Livingstone sat among the
attendant princes. For the third time within a few months had he been
witness to the splendors of Rome now budding on the American landscape.
He did not know what share this Arthur Dillon had in the life of Louis
and in the building of the beautiful temple. But he knew the strength of
his leadership among his people; and he felt curious to see with his own
eyes, to feel with his own heart, the charm, the enchantment, which had
worked a spell so fatal on the richly endowed Endicott nature.

For enchantment there must have been. The treachery and unworthiness of
Sonia, detestable beyond thought, could not alone work so strange and
weird a transformation. Half cynic always, and still more cynical since
his late misfortunes, he could not withhold his approbation from the
cleverness which grouped about this young man and his bride the great
ones of the hour. The scene wholly depressed him. Not the grandeur, nor
the presence of the powers of society, but the sight of this Endicott,
of the mould of heroes, of the blood of the English Puritan, acting as
sponsor of a new order of things in his beloved country, the order
which he had hoped, still hoped, to destroy. His heart bled as he
watched him.

The lovely mother, the high-hearted father, lay in their grave. Here
stood their beloved, a prince among men, bowing before the idols of
Rome, receiving for himself a