“I don't see why she can't. I've sometimes supposed that the very highest purpose of Christianity was mutual forgiveness--forbearance with one another's errors.” “That's all very well,” said Mrs. Sewell. “But you know that whenever I have taken a cook back, after she had shown temper, it's been an entire failure; and this is a far worse case, because there is disappointed good-will mixed up with it. I don't suppose Barker is at all to blame. Whatever has happened, you may be perfectly sure that it has been partly a bit of stage-play in Sibyl and partly a mischievous desire to use her power over him. I foresaw that she would soon be tired of reforming him. But whatever it is, it's something that you can't repair. Suppose Barker went back to them; could they ignore what's happened?” “Of course not,” Sewell admitted. “Well, and should he ask her pardon, or she his?” “The Socratic method is irresistible,” said the minister sadly. “You have proved that nothing can be done for Barker with the Vanes. And now the question is, what _can_ be done for him?” “That's something I must leave to you, David,” said his wife dispiritedly. She arose, and as she passed out of the room she added, “You will have to find him, in the _first_ place, and you had better go round to the police stations and the tramps' lodging-houses and begin looking.” Sewell sighed heavily under the sarcastic advice, but acted upon it, and set forth upon the useless quest, because he did not know in the least what else to do.