“No!” she cried. 'It is impossible that all this should be lost — that such a life should be sacrificed to leave nothing — but sorrow. You know what vast plans he had.

I knew of them, too — I could not perhaps understand — but others knew of them. Something must remain. His words, at least, have not died.”

“His words will remain,” I said.

“And his example,” she whispered to herself. 'Men looked up to him — his goodness shone in every act. His example — ”

“True,” I said; 'his example, too. Yes, his example. I forgot that.”

“But I do not. I cannot — I cannot believe — not yet. I cannot believe that I shall never see him again, that nobody will see him again, never, never, never.”