His face was as solemn as the usher's own as he turned to gaze at the word "Welcome" over the door, and the fringe of paper Easter lilies draping the top of each uncurtained window.
Bernice claimed his attention several moments, then he turned to Lloyd again.

"Do tell me, Miss Lloyd," he begged, "what is that wonderfully and fearfully made thing in the front of the pulpit?
Is it a doorway or a giant picture-frame?
And what part is it to play in the ceremony ?" Lloyd's face dimpled, and an amused smile flashed up at him from the corner of her eye.

Then she lowered her long lashes demurely, and seemed to be engrossed with her bunch of roses as she answered him.
"The coquettish thing!" thought Bernice, seeing the glance but not hearing the whisper which followed it.
"Sh! Don't make me laugh! Everybody is watching to see if the white folks are making fun of things, and I'm actually afraid to look up again for feah I'll giggle.

Maybe it's a copy of Eugenia's gate of roses.

It looks like the frame of a doahway.