But he has not forgiven me, cried Rotha in her heart, while the tears poured; he will not forgive me, unless I forgive her.—"But he is ready to forgive you," the very words before her proclaimed. It was a dead lock, nevertheless; and when Mrs. Mowbray came home from church she found, to her surprise, Rotha still bending over her Bible with her tears dripping on the floor. Mrs. Mowbray took off her hat and cloak before she said a word. Then coming to Rotha's side on the couch, she put one arm round her.
"My dear," she said gently, "what is the matter?"
The tone and the touch were so sympathizing, so tender, that Rotha answered by an affectionate, clinging gesture, taking care at the same time that none of her tears fell on Mrs. Mowbray's rich silk. For a little space she made no other answer. When she spoke, it was with a passionate accent.
"Madame, if I am ever to be a Christian, I must be made all over new!"
"That is nothing uncommon," the lady replied.
"It is every one's case. So the Bible says; 'If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.'"
"But how am I to get made over all new?" Rotha cried.
"That is the Holy Spirit's work. 'Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.'"
"Then must I ask for him?"
"Certainly."