r that might satisfy minds less
"prejudiced" in her favor.

It was impossible not to perceive the dissatisfaction with which this
testimony was received.

The Committee, however favorably disposed toward the organist, had their
own suspicions to quiet, and a growing rumor among the people to quell.
Positive proof must be adduced that the organist was not the wife of a
Rebel general, or she must be removed from her place.

At a time when riot was rife, and street-tumult so common that the
citizens, loyal or disloyal, had no real security, it was venturesome,
dangerous, foolhardy, to allow a suspicion to fix, even by implication,
on the church. If the organist, already sufficiently noted and popular
in the town to attract within the church-walls scores of people who came
merely for the music,--if she were suspected of collision with Southern
traitors, she must pay the price. It was the proper tax on loyalty. The
church must be free of blame.

So Mr. Muir, a second time on such business, went to Mrs. Edgar.

Various intimations as to what brave men might do in precisely his
situation distracted him as he went. The fascinations of her power were
strongly upon him. If he was a hero, here, surely, was a heroine. And in
distress! Had Christian chivalry no demand to make, no claim on him?

All the way, as he went, he was counting the cost of his opposition to
the vestry's will. If he only stood alone! If neither wife nor child had
rights to be considered in advance of other mortals, and which, for the
necessities of others, must surely not be waived! If Nature had not
planted in him prudence, if he had only not that vexatious habit of
surveying duties in their wholeness, and balancing consequences, he
might, at the moment, enter into Don Quixote's joy. But,--and here he
was at the head of the flight of stairs that led to her chamber, face to
face with her.

Advance now, Christian minister! He comes slowly, weighed down by his
burden of consequences, and, as at one glance, the organist perceives
the "situation." He has come with her dismissal from the church. She
sees it in the dejected face, the troubled eyes, the weariness with
which he throws himself into the nearest chair. The duty he has in hand
he feels in all its irksomeness, and makes no concealment
thereof,--indeed, some display perhaps.

From a little desultory talk about church-music, through which words ran
at random, Mrs. Edgar broke at last, somewhat impat