She wished to be able to explain to them that she was not at all to blame that she, who was so young and so insignificant, was to undergo such a martyr's death, and that so much trouble should be made on her account.
Like a person who is actually accused of a crime, Musya sought justification.

She endeavored to find something that would at least make her sacrifice more momentous, which might give it real value.

She reasoned: "Of course, I am young and could have lived for a long time.

But--" And as a candle darkens in the glare of the rising sun, so her youth and her life seemed dull and dark compared to that great and resplendent radiance which would shine above her simple head.

There was no justification.
But perhaps that peculiar something which she bore in her soul--boundless love, boundless eagerness to do great deeds, her boundless contempt for herself--was a justification in itself.