To go back: The door had barely closed behind the two women when Hetty's trembling knees gave way beneath her. With a low moan of horror, she slipped to the floor, covering her face with her hands.
Sara knelt beside her.
"Come," she said gently, but firmly; "I must exact this much of you. If we are to go on together, as we have planned, you must stand beside me at his bier. Together we must look upon him for the last time. You must see him as I saw him up there in the country. I had my cruel blow that night. It is your turn now. I will not blame you for what you did. But if you expect me to go on believing that you did a brave thing that night, you must convince me that you are not a coward now. It is the only test I shall put you to. Come; I know it is hard, I know it is terrible, but it is the true test of your ability to go through with it to the end. I shall know then that you have the courage to face anything that may come up."
She waited a long time, her hand on the girl's shoulder. At last Hetty arose.
"You are right," she said hoarsely. "I should not be afraid."
Later on, they sat over against the wall beyond the casket, into which they had peered with widely varying emotions. Sara had said:
"You know that I loved him."
The girl put her hands to her eyes and bowed her head.
"Oh, how can you be so merciful to me?"
"Because he was not," said Sara, white-lipped. Hetty glanced at the half-averted face with queer, indescribable expression in her eyes.