Individuality was lost. The Cathedral, thinking nothing of Kings and Queens, of history, of movement forward and retrograde, but only of itself and of the life that it had been given, that it now claimed for its own, with haughty confidence assumed its Power...the Power of its own Immortality that is neither man's nor God's.
The trumpets began. They rang out the Psalm that had been given them, and transformed it into a cry of exultant triumph. Their notes rose, were caught by the pillars, acclaimed, tossed higher, caught again in the eaves and corners of the great building, swinging backwards and forwards....
"Now listen to My greatness! You created Me for the Worship of your God!
"And now I am your God! Out of your forms and ceremonies you have made a new God! And I, thy God, am a jealous God...."
Ronder read the First Lesson.
"That's Ronder," the town-people whispered, "the new Canon. Oh! he's clever. You should hear him preach!"
"Reads beautiful!" Gladys, the Brandons' maid, whispered to Annie, the kitchen-maid. "I do like a bit of fine reading."
By those accustomed to observe it was noticed that Ronder read with very much more assurance than he had done three months ago. It was as though he knew now where he was, as though he were settled down now and had his place--and it would take some very strong people to shift him from that place. Oh, yes. It would!
And Brandon read the Second Lesson. As usual, when he stepped down from the choir, slowly, impressively, pausing for a moment before he turned to the Lectern, strangers whispered to one another, "That's a handsome parson, that is." He seemed to hesitate again before going up as though he had stumbled over a step. Very slowly he read the opening words; slowly he continued.
Puddifoot, looking up across from his seat in the side aisle, thought, "There's something the matter with him." Suddenly he paused, looked about him, stared over the congregation as though he were searching for somebody, then slowly again went on and finished: