Donald, trembling on the brink of Beyond, not from his disease but
from the exhaustion incident to it, was conscious when his father
entered the room and sat down beside his bed.
"Well, lad," he greeted the boy with an assumption of heartiness he
was far from feeling, "and have you no good news for your old father
this morning. Tell me you're feeling better, lad."
"Read the telegram," Donald whispered, and old Hector, seeing a
telegram lying on the bed, picked it up. It was dated from New York
that morning, and the Laird read:
Due Port Agnew Friday morning. Remember the last line in the
fairy-tale. Love and kisses from your