At first she chose a penknife, which he had once lent to her and she had forgotten to return.

But the next instant she dropped it and rather hurriedly.

For she was after all an Irish girl, and though she did not believe in superstitions, where superstitions were concerned she preferred to be on the safe side.

She selected his photograph in the end and locked it away in a drawer.
She gathered the rest of his presents together, packed them carefully in a box, fastened the box, addressed it and carried it down to the hall, that the servants might despatch it in the morning.

Then coming back to her room she took his letters, made a little pile of them on the hearth and set them alight.