Before this time Uncle Charlie's growl had been vanquished, and Deacon Slocumb's book was closed; and dear Auntie Barber, although she kept her book open and her meek eyes fixed on the page, knew that Coronation had gone far beyond her reach. The triumphant choir swept through to the close, and seated themselves in smiling satisfaction. "I'm sure we led the congregation," whispered Mr. Pemberton into the ear of the first soprano. "They can't complain of our part of the contract." And that entire company let itself explode into a succession of giggles, over the peculiar aptness of the text at that moment announced: "He leadeth me by a way that I have not known." "That's as true as preaching!" whispered the leader of the choir, and then that ripple of laughter went again through the triumphant company. CHAPTER II. THIS was the beginning, but by no means the end. The smiling Theodore was a perfect gentleman, no doubt, as regarded affability of manners, and he carried his point, whatever it was, by sheer good-natured audacity, but reverence for the house of God seemed to have no place in his nature. When he wanted to hum a new tune during prayer time, why he hummed the tune, in decorous undertone, it is true, and looking perfectly good-natured the while; but to hum tunes and turn leaves seemed to be the gentlemanly Theodore's idea of decorum in prayer time. Indeed, as time passed this grew to be by no means the most trying part of the proceedings of the choir. It became necessary to transact a great deal of business after the services had fairly commenced. It suited the leader's idea to sometimes change the tune but the moment before singing, and of course the whispered word had to be passed down the choir. This proceeding served as a sufficient explanation or excuse whenever one of the more daring spirits ventured to criticise: "Why we have to consult, of course. What would you have us do?—Sing hap-hazard? Why must there always be such a fuss made over the consultation of singers? Deacon Simmons can squeak down the aisle and consult with the Brother Sharp about the hour for prayer meeting, in a whisper which can be heard all over the room; and it is all right; but the moment one of the choir ventures a whisper, people act as though we had committed the unpardonable sin." This will serve as a specimen of the spirit in which criticisms were received. Generally the fault-finders-were subdued by these hints of volcanic eruptions, and did not venture to explain that Deacon Simmons and Brother Sharp were never caught giggling behind their fans, nor, however loud their whispers, no such sentences as these floated through the room from their lips: "Have a chocolate drop? Chocolate's good for the voice, you know;" or, "Isn't the sermon dreadfully long drawn out this morning? I do wish he'd get through."