“None in the least.”  Rachel spoke decidedly.

“Will you tell me why?” He asked the question as if he had a right to a truthful answer.

“Because I do not feel toward you as a woman ought to feel toward the man she marries.”

“In other words, you do not love me?”

“I do not and I cannot.”

“Why?” That was another question, and Rachel was a little surprised that he should ask it.

“Because—­” she hesitated for fear she might say too much in an attempt to speak the exact truth.

“Tell me just why.  You can’t hurt me more than you have already.”

“Well, I do not and I cannot love you because you have no purpose in life.  What do you ever do to make the world better?  You spend your time in club life, in amusements, in travel, in luxury.  What is there in such a life to attract a woman?”

“Not much, I guess,” said Rollin with a bitter laugh.  “Still, I don’t know that I’m any worse than the rest of the men around me.  I’m not so bad as some.  I’m glad to know your reasons.”

He suddenly stopped, took off his hat, bowed gravely and turned back.  Rachel went on home and hurried into her room, disturbed in many ways by the event which had so unexpectedly thrust itself into her experience.

When she had time to think it all over she found herself condemned by the very judgment she had passed on Rollin Page.  What purpose had she in life?  She had been abroad and studied music with one of the famous teachers of Europe.  She had come home to Raymond and had been singing in the First Church choir now for a year.  She was well paid.  Up to that Sunday two weeks ago she had been quite satisfied with herself and with her position.  She had shared her mother’s ambition, and anticipated growing triumphs in the musical world.  What possible career was before her except the regular career of every singer?

She asked the question again and, in the light of her recent reply to Rollin, asked again, if she had any very great purpose in life herself.  What would Jesus do?  There was a fortune in her voice.  She knew it, not necessarily as a matter of personal pride or professional egotism, but simply as a fact.  And she was obliged to acknowledge that until two weeks ago she had purposed to use her voice to make money and win admiration and applause.  Was that a much higher purpose, after all, than Rollin Page lived for?

She sat in her room a long time and finally went downstairs, resolved to have a frank talk with her mother about the concert company’s offer and the new plan which was gradually shaping in her mind.  She had already had one talk with her mother and knew that she expected Rachel to accept the offer and enter on a successful career as a public singer.

“Mother,” Rachel said, coming at once to the point, much as she dreaded the interview, “I have decided not to go out with the company.  I have a good reason for it.”