"You all said it would be like Aladdin's," murmured the woman.
"Yes, but he throws away his jewels," rejoined the man. "See the big prophet over the arch; he looks as though he wanted to come down—and I think he ought."
"Did Michael Angelo ever take lessons of Mr. Wharton?" asked the woman seriously, looking up at the figures high above the pulpit.
"He was only a prophet," answered her companion, and, looking in another direction, next asked:
"Who is the angel of Paradise, in the dove-colored wings, sliding up the main aisle?"
"That! O, you know her! It is Miss Leonard. She is lovely, but she is only an angel of Paris."
"I never saw her before in my life," he replied; "but I know her bonnet was put on in the Lord's honor for the first time this morning."
"Women should take their bonnets off at the church door, as Mussulmen do their shoes," she answered.
"Don't turn Mahommedan, Esther. To be a Puritan is bad enough. The bonnets match the decorations."
"Pity the transepts are not finished!" she continued, gazing up at the bare scaffolding opposite.