All the selfish element had died out of his love for her; there remained only the sadness of thinking of her disgrace, and a longing that, even yet, the good might prevail in her life. Was there no recovery from such a fall? Was no allowance to be made for her youth and her great temptations? If she really repented ought not her husband once more to receive her; and give her the protection which he alone could give? Kneeling there in the quiet he faced that great problem, and with eyes cleared by love, with his pride altogether laid low, and knowing what it was both to forgive and to be forgiven, he saw beyond the conventional view taken by the world. There was no escaping the great law of forgiveness laid down by Christ, “If he repent, forgive him.” “Forgive even as also ye are forgiven.” And if marriage was taken as a symbol of the union between Christ and the Church, how was it possible to exclude the idea of forgiveness for faithlessness truly repented of? Had he been in Lord Romiaux’s place he knew that he must have forgiven her, that if necessary he must have set the whole world at defiance, in order once more to shelter her from the deadly peril to which, alone, she must always be exposed. And so it happened that love turned to good even the early passion that had apparently made such havoc of his life, and used it now to raise him out of the thought of his own trouble and undeserved disgrace, used it to lift him out of the selfishness and hardness that for so long had been cramping an otherwise fine nature. CHAPTER XXX. Perhaps it was almost a relief both to Frithiof and to Sigrid that, just at this time, all intercourse with Rowan Tree House should become impossible. Lance and Gwen had sickened with scarlatina, and, of course, all communication was at end for some time to come; it would have been impossible that things should have gone on as before after Frithiof’s trouble: he was far too proud to permit such a thing, though the Bonifaces would have done their best utterly to forget what had happened. It would moreover have been difficult for Sigrid to fall back in her former position of familiar friendship after her last interview with Roy. So that, perhaps, the only person who sighed over the separation was Cecil, and she was fortunately kept so busy by her little patients that she had not time to think much of the future. Whenever the thought did cross her mind—“How is all this going to end?”—such miserable perplexity seized her that she was glad to turn back to the present, which, however painful, was at any rate endurable. But the strain of that secret anxiety, and the physical fatigue of nursing the two children, began to tell on her, she felt worn and old, and the look that always frightened Mrs. Boniface came back to her face—the look that made the poor mother think of the two graves in Norwood Cemetery.