It was not until luncheon time that Zara came down, next day.

She felt he did not wish to see her, and she lay there in her pretty, old, quaint room, and thought of many things, and the wreck of their lives, above all.

And she thought of Mirko and her mother, and the tears came to her eyes.

But that grief was past, in its bitterness; she knew it was much better so.
The thought of Tristram's going tore her very soul, and swallowed up all other grief.
"I cannot, cannot bear it!" she moaned to herself.
He was sitting gazing into the fire, when she timidly came into his sitting-room.

She had been too unhappy to sleep much and was again looking very pale.
He seemed to speak to her like one in a dream.