But it was the first time in his life that he had so interpreted the wild crying of the killdeer plover.
There was a gown that had been packed at the bottom of a trunk; it was a fluffy, rather shapeless mound of filmy stuff to look at as it lay on the bed. As it hung upon the perfect figure of a girl of twenty it was, in the words of the maid, "a dhream an' a blessed vision, glory be!" It ought to have been; it was brand-new.
[Illustration: "THERE WAS THAT IN BURLESON'S EYES THAT SOBERED HER"]
At dinner, her father coming in on crutches, stared at his daughter--stared as though the apparition of his dead wife had risen to guide him to his chair; and his daughter laughed across the little table--she scarcely knew why--laughed at his surprise, at his little tribute to her beauty--laughed with the quick tears brimming in her eyes.
Then, after a silence, and thinking of her mother, she spoke of Burleson; and after a while of the coming journey, and their new luck which had come up with the new moon in September--a luck which had brought a purchaser for the mare, another for the land--all of it, swamp, timber, barrens--every rod, house, barn, garden, and stock.
Again leaning her bare elbows on the cloth, she asked her father who the man could be that desired such property. But her father shook his head, repeating the name, which was, I believe, Smith. And that, including the check, was all they had ever learned of this investor who had wanted what they did not want, in the nick of time.
"If he thinks there is gas or oil here he is to be pitied," said her father. "I wrote him and warned him."
"I think he replied that he knew his own business," said the girl.
"I hope he does; the price is excessive--out of all reason. I trust he knows of something in the land that may justify his investment."
After a moment she said, "Do you really think we may be able to buy a little place in Florida--a few orange-trees and a house?"
"Thank God!" she thought, answering his smile.
There was no dampness in the air; she aided him to the garden, where he resumed his crutches and hobbled as far as the wonderful bush that bore a single belated rose.
"In the South," he said, under his breath, "there is no lack of these.... I think--I think all will be well in the South."