“There’s no great virtue in saying ‘No’ to this offer when I have the other one,” Rachel went on thoughtfully.  “That’s harder to decide.  But I’ve about made up my mind.  To tell the, truth, Virginia, I’m completely convinced in the first case that Jesus would never use any talent like a good voice just to make money.  But now, take this concert offer.  Here is a reputable company, to travel with an impersonator and a violinist and a male quartet, all people of good reputation.  I’m asked to go as one of the company and sing leading soprano.  The salary—­I mentioned it, didn’t I?—­is guaranteed to be $200 a month for the season.  But I don’t feel satisfied that Jesus would go.  What do you think?”

“You mustn’t ask me to decide for you,” replied Virginia with a sad smile.  “I believe Mr. Maxwell was right when he said we must each one of us decide according to the judgment we feel for ourselves to be Christ-like.  I am having a harder time than you are, dear, to decide what He would do.”

“Are you?” Rachel asked.  She rose and walked over to the window and looked out.  Virginia came and stood by her.  The street was crowded with life and the two young women looked at it silently for a moment.  Suddenly Virginia broke out as Rachel had never heard her before: 

“Rachel, what does all this contrast in conditions mean to you as you ask this question of what Jesus would do?  It maddens me to think that the society in which I have been brought up, the same to which we are both said to belong, is satisfied year after year to go on dressing and eating and having a good time, giving and receiving entertainments, spending its money on houses and luxuries and, occasionally, to ease its conscience, donating, without any personal sacrifice, a little money to charity.  I have been educated, as you have, in one of the most expensive schools in America; launched into society as an heiress; supposed to be in a very enviable position.  I’m perfectly well; I can travel or stay at home.  I can do as I please.  I can gratify almost any want or desire; and yet when I honestly try to imagine Jesus living the life I have lived and am expected to live, and doing for the rest of my life what thousands of other rich people do, I am under condemnation for being one of the most wicked, selfish, useless creatures in all the world.  I have not looked out of this window for weeks without a feeling of horror toward myself as I see the humanity that passes by this house.”

Virginia turned away and walked up and down the room.  Rachel watched her and could not repress the rising tide of her own growing definition of discipleship.  Of what Christian use was her own talent of song?  Was the best she could do to sell her talent for so much a month, go on a concert company’s tour, dress beautifully, enjoy the excitement of public applause and gain a reputation as a great singer?  Was that what Jesus would do?

She was not morbid.  She was in sound health, was conscious of her great powers as a singer, and knew that if she went out into public life she could make a great deal of money and become well known.  It is doubtful if she overestimated her ability to accomplish all she thought herself capable of.  And Virginia—­what she had just said smote Rachel with great force because of the similar position in which the two friends found themselves.