voice broke and ended in a sob:

"And oh, Davie, laddie, if ever your heart turns home again, remember
the door is aye open, and it's joy you'll bring with you to us all."

Bruce lay quite still, and, from his closed eyes, big tears ran down his
cheeks. It was his last farewell to her whose love had been to him the
anchor to all things pure here and to heaven beyond.

He took the letter from Moore's hand, put it with difficulty to his
lips, and then, touching the open Bible, he said, between his breaths:

"It's--very like--there's really--no fear, is there?"

"No, no!" said Moore, with cheerful, confident voice, though his, tears
were flowing. "No fear of your welcome."

His eyes met mine. I bent over him. "Tell her--" and his voice faded
away.

"What shall I tell her?" I asked, trying to recall him. But the message
was never given. He moved one hand slowly toward The Duke till it
touched his head. The Duke lifted his face and looked down at him, and
then he did a beautiful thing for which I forgave him much. He stooped
over and kissed the lips grown so white, and then the brow. The light
came back into the eyes of the dying man, he smiled once more, and
smilingly faced toward the Great Beyond. And the morning air, fresh from
the sun-tipped mountains and sweet with the scent of the June roses,
came blowing soft and cool through the open window upon the dead,
smiling face. And it seemed fitting so. It came from the land of the