two Sevres ewers were filled, one with coffee a la creme, the other with
vanilla chocolate, almost in the state of sherbet, from being plunged in
a large cooler of chiselled silver, containing ice.

But what gave to this dainty collation a singularly apostolic and papal
character were sundry symbols of religious worship carefully represented.
Thus there were charming little Calvaries in apricot paste, sacerdotal
mitres in burnt almonds, episcopal croziers in sweet cake, to which the
princess added, as a mark of delicate attention, a little cardinal's hat
in cherry sweetmeat, ornamented with bands in burnt sugar. The most
important, however, of these Catholic delicacies, the masterpiece of the
cook, was a superb crucifix in angelica, with a crown of candied berries.
These are strange profanations, which scandalize even the least devout.
But, from the impudent juggle of the coat of Triers, down to the
shameless jest of the shrine at Argenteuil, people, who are pious after
the fashion of the princess, seem to take delight in bringing ridicule
upon the most respectable traditions.

After glancing with an air of satisfaction at these preparations for the
collation, the lady said to Mrs. Grivois, as she pointed to the gilded
arm-chair, which seemed destined for the president of the meeting: "Is
there a cushion under the table, for his Eminence to rest his feet on? He
always complains of cold."

"Yes, your highness," said Mrs. Grivois, when she had looked under the
table; "the cushion is there."

"Let also a pewter bottle be filled with boiling water, in case his
Eminence should not find the cushion enough to keep his feet warm."