In the sarcophagus in the hall, where we had placed the mummy of the cat, was a small patch of similar dust.
* * * * * In the autumn Margaret and I were married.

On the occasion she wore the mummy robe and zone and the jewel which Queen Tera had worn in her hair.

On her breast, set in a ring of gold make like a twisted lotus stalk, she wore the strange Jewel of Seven Stars which held words to command the God of all the worlds.

At the marriage the sunlight streaming through the chancel windows fell on it, and it seemed to glow like a living thing.
The graven words may have been of efficacy; for Margaret holds to them, and there is no other life in all the world so happy as my own.
We often think of the great Queen, and we talk of her freely.

Once, when I said with a sigh that I was sorry she could not have waked into a new life in a new world, my wife, putting both her hands in mine and looking into my eyes with that far-away eloquent dreamy look which sometimes comes into her own, said lovingly: "Do not grieve for her! Who knows, but she may have found the joy she sought?
Love and patience are all that make for happiness in this world; or in the world of the past or of the future; of the living or the dead.