So uttered, for the living as well as the dead, those immortal words had a strange significance and beauty.
And presently a tender, silvery voice came down to mingle with the deep and solemn tones of the male mourners.

It was Helen Rolleston.

She had watched most of their movements unseen herself, and now, standing at the edge of the ravine, and looking down on them, uttered a soft but thrilling amen to every prayer.

When it was over, and the men prepared to fill in the grave, she spoke to Welch in an undertone, and begged leave to pay her tribute first; and, with this, she detached her apron and held it out to them.

Hazel easily climbed up to her, and found her apron was full of sweet-smelling bark and aromatic leaves, whose fragrance filled the air.
"I want you to strew these over his poor remains," she said.