Could he do this for the sake of the welfare of his soul in some future state?
Why, at the thought of it even, in that solemn place and hour of dedication, his spirit reeled, for then and there for the first time it was borne in upon him that he loved this woman more than all the world beside--more than his life, more, perhaps, than his soul.

He loved her with all his pure young heart--so much that it would be a joy to him to die for her, not only in the heat of battle, as lately had almost chanced on the Death Creek quay, but in cold blood, of set purpose, if there came need.

He loved her with body and with spirit, and, after God, here to her he consecrated his body and his spirit.

But what value would she put upon the gift?
What if some other man--?
By his side, his elbows resting on the altar rails, his eyes fixed upon the beaming armour that he would wear in battle, knelt Wulf, his brother--a mighty man, a knight of knights, fearless, noble, open-hearted; such a one as any woman might well love.

And he also loved Rosamund.