I know what I ought to do, and I will do it.

You may trust me." He looked at me approvingly.
"That is well," he said briefly.

"And now, as I am of no use here, I will say good-night.

Remember, excessive grief is mere selfishness; resignation is heroism." He was gone.

I nerved myself to the task I had before me, and within an hour the fair casket of what had been Zara lay on an open bier in the little chapel, lights burning round it, and flowers strewn above it in mournful profusion.
We left her body arrayed in its white satin garb; the cluster of orange-blossoms she had gathered still bloomed upon the cold breast, where the crucifix lay; but in the tresses of the long dark hair I wove a wreath of lilies instead of the pearls we had undone.
And now I knelt beside the bier absorbed in thought.