conscious of your clothes; and if your shoes were only a little too small, I should be perfectly happy."
"If I had known that such a little thing could make you happy, I would willingly have worn a smaller pair."
We both laughed, and I suddenly realized that my "ceremonious man," as Tom called him, was still walking beside me, and might think us rude in holding such a long conversation in English before him. I begged his pardon, and asked him if he spoke that language. He was obliged to confess, with many regrets, that he did not.
"How much farther are we to walk?" I inquired. "We must have been half a mile already."
"We are nearly there now, mademoiselle"; and almost immediately we entered the chapel, where we found the members of the diplomatic corps assembled, the gentlemen in uniform, the ladies in court dress,—that is, décolletées, with long trains carried over one arm, as there was seldom room enough to spread them out. The gentlemen stood on one side of the room, and the ladies on the other, in the regular order of precedence as required by the law of etiquette.
At the back of the chapel was a gilt iconostase, ornamented with rich jewels. In front of this screen was the font. A gilt rail separated this part of the chapel from that where we stood,—typifying the goats, I suppose.
The choir, dressed in red robes trimmed with yellow, was already in its place. Presently the metropolitan of
