Winifred’s next excursion in thought away from the sermon led her to review her part of the morning program, and she wondered if the minister thought of it too.  The hymns?—­she had forgotten what they were.  But the anthem—­was it unto the Lord she sang her part?  Was there an atom of sincerity in the sentiment she sang?  The words were from a Psalm, she thought, and she did not really understand what David meant.  Had she any clearer ideas as to what Winifred Gray might mean?  She surely did not wish the wings of a dove, literally, nor to fly away into the wilderness.  She loved her home and many friends and had no desire to escape from them or her surroundings.  If it meant to fly away to heaven—?  Surely she did not wish that!  The world and “the things that are in the world” were very attractive to the young soprano.  She had no wish for heaven save as an alternative from hell.  What did it mean?  Was it a heart-rest that David longed for?  But she had been conscious of no unrest—­until just now.  Honestly, the truth was that she had not meant anything!  Was it worship?  But her friends would tell her she sang it with feeling, she argued defensively, and then asked herself candidly, what sort of feeling?  She had sung Mignon’s song with equal sympathy the night before.  She confessed the truth; it was dramatic instinct that led her in both songs, and the Spirit of God in neither.

“I am a hypocrite,” she cried within herself, “and no true worshiper!”

Then she thought of the positive side of her action.  While there was no offering to God, she had received in her own heart the subtle incense of the people’s praise.  Enveloped in its cloud she had sat until the sermon disturbed her.  She wished the young stranger had not come to preach.  Doctor Schoolman’s sermons were nice, and learned, and elevating, and never gave her such uncomfortable thoughts!  Had he preached this morning all might have gone on as before so pleasantly.

And now?—­should it not go on?  Could she think for a moment of stopping it all?  Impossible!  But to go on with it was—­“abomination!” That was what the preacher said.  Perhaps he was wrong, or she misunderstood.  Doctor Schoolman would know.  But what said her own conscience?  After all, she knew the battle must be fought out there.  Was it not sin to take sacred words on her lips and not mean them?  How many times had she taken God’s name in vain, pouring out pretended invocation to Him, while her heart addressed only the congregation for their approval!  But it had been so thoughtless!  He would surely forgive.  But now she had thought about it, and it could never be the same again.

By this time Winifred was thoroughly miserable.  She pondered over and again what she should do, at times in imagination resigning her position in the choir; then saying: 

“Impossible!  It is absurd!  Who ever heard of its being wicked to sing in the choir?  How could I explain myself?”