When Winifred awoke the nest morning it was to wonder if it were really true—if she had come to God and He had received her. A sweet rest still in her heart testified to a burden lifted. Her Bible lay open on the little table where she had found the minister's text while fighting her battle the day before. A leaf or two had blown over, and she looked down on the sixth chapter of John and read,
"Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out."
Renewed assurance came with the words.
"I believe it," she said to herself. "I have been very false, but He is true. He says the truth. I believe it."
The thought of the choir scarcely entered her mind now in her new-found joy. The question, to sing or not to sing, had shifted to the deeper one of relationship to God, and the peace that came with its settlement overshadowed everything else. She went down to breakfast with a light heart and very cheerful countenance. Hubert looked at her in surprise from under gloomy brows. His own had been a restless night.
"Has your headache gone, dear?" asked her mother solicitously.
"Oh, long ago, Mother," said Winifred. She wanted to tell her mother the better news than of a headache gone, but did not know how to begin.
They talked of ordinary things until breakfast was nearly over. Then
Mr. Gray said:
"Mr. Mercer was sorry to miss you from the choir last night, Winnie, and hoped you were not going to be ill."
"Thank you, Father. Mr. Mercer is always very kind."