“You were not in the choir this morning?” she said with a “why” in her voice.

“No,” said Winifred, “I have left the choir.”

“Really!” exclaimed Mrs. Butterworth in a shocked voice.  “I hope not for good?”

“Yes—­I think it is for good,” Winifred confessed.

“Oh, please do not say so!” cried Mrs. Butterworth, but in a suppressed voice, for they had not yet left the church.  “What shall we do?  We have enjoyed your singing so very much!”

“I am afraid I have been too conscious of that fact,” said Winifred frankly, while her mother looked alarmed.  “I think I shall be able to worship God more sincerely in the congregation.”

Mrs. Gray felt that the worst had come, now that Winifred had declared her position.  She almost turned faint as she heard her speak to Mrs. Butterworth so simply and directly of worshiping God.  To be sure they were still in the building supposably dedicated to that end, but to speak aloud of it in so many words seemed very bad form.  Her daughter might sing protests of adoration in the ears of the whole congregation, with the loudest of affected fervor, and she found no fault with it.  But the comfort of that was that nobody believed she meant it!

Mrs. Butterworth looked at Winifred keenly, and partially grasped her meaning.

“Oh, I hope you’ll not look at it that way,” she said half soothingly.  “It might suit your own feelings better, but what about ours?  I have often said,” and her eyebrows arched plaintively, “that your singing did me more good than the sermon!”

Winifred looked at the worldly, fashionable woman and wondered, not at all cynically, how much good her combined efforts with Doctor Schoolman’s had done toward a life-transformation.

“I am sorry not to sing,” she said sympathetically, “since you enjoyed it so much, I would gladly continue if I could.  I cannot.  But there is already someone in my place—­”

Mrs. Butterworth lifted her hand in silent protest.  She looked at Winifred reproachfully, and settled her lips as one who should say nothing of the new singer in contrast with her favorite.  She shook her head resignedly, and at this moment they were joined by someone else who proffered greetings.  Winifred was glad to join Hubert and to slip out as quickly as possible, they both as usual preferring the walk home to the carriage.  Frothingham saw them from afar, and inwardly commented upon Hubert’s unwonted appearance at church for two consecutive Sundays, and his own consequent loss.  He had no mind to join Winifred with Hubert for a third.

The two exchanged views of the sermon on the way home.  It seemed very strange to hear Hubert speak of it sympathetically.  He mentioned some admirable points which he found in the minister’s reasoning, and refrained from saying that the change of heart he had himself experienced had not made less hateful to him Doctor Schoolman’s affected style.