at surprised her mother.
But Mrs. Winslow was angry now; and she never tried to conceal her
feelings.

"It is simply absurd! Rachel, you are a fanatic! What can you do?"

"The world has been served by men and women who have given it other
things that were gifts. Why should I, because I am blessed with a
natural gift, at once proceed to put a market price on it and make
all the money I can out of it? You know, mother, that you have
taught me to think of a musical career always in the light of
financial and social success. I have been unable, since I made my
promise two weeks ago, to imagine Jesus joining a concert company to
do what I should do and live the life I should have to live if I
joined it."

Mrs. Winslow rose and then sat down again. With a great effort she
composed herself.

"What do you intend to do then? You have not answered my question."

"I shall continue to sing for the time being in the church. I am
pledged to sing there through the spring. During the week I am going
to sing at the White Cross meetings, down in the Rectangle."

"What! Rachel Winslow! Do you know what you are saying? Do you know
what sort of people those are down there?"

Rachel almost quailed before her mother. For a moment she shrank
back and was silent. Then she spoke firmly: "I know very well. That
is the reason I am going. Mr. and Mrs. Gray have been working there
several weeks. I learned only this morning that they want singers
from the churches to help them in their meetings. They use a tent.
It is in a part of the city where Christian work is most needed. I
shall offer them my help. Mother!" Rachel cried out with the first
passionate utterance she had yet used, "I want to do something that
will cost me something in the way of sacrifice. I know you will not
understand me. But I am hungry to suffer for something. What have we
done all our lives for the suffering, sinning side of Raymond? How
much have we denied ourselves or given of our personal ease and
pleasure to bless the place in which we live or imitate the life of
the Savior of the world? Are we always to go on doing as society
selfishly dictates, moving on its little narrow round of pleasures
and entertainments, and never knowing the pain of things that cost?"

"Are you preaching at me?" asked Mrs. Winslow slowly. Rachel rose,
and understood her mother's words.

"No. I am preaching at myself," she replied gently. She paused a
moment as if she thought her mother