Dick put his hand in his pocket and drawing it out, said:
"Guess how much for my morning's catch?"
"A dollar," she replied, always entering into the spirit of his
pleasantry.
"More."
"And a half then?"
"Still short, mom, try again."
"Not two, Dick?" with delight in her eyes.
He emptied his hand into her waiting ones.
"Two dollars and twenty cents. I consider that I had pretty fair luck
for bass fishing. You know how freakish they are about biting. I had
made up my mind I'd give them a whirl to-morrow, but now I find it will
be impossible. My other engagements are too pressing."
She looked at him as though puzzled to guess his meaning, whereupon
Dick, unable to restrain himself any longer, snatched up the precious
letter and held it for her to see.
When she managed to make out its contents she stared at him, half
laughing and crying at the same time.
"How splendid! And just what you have always wished, Dick. Oh! I'm so
glad! How nice of Mrs. Gibbs, and--Bessie!" she exclaimed; for her
woman's intuition had instantly jumped at the truth which Dick had only
reached after more or less floundering in the mire.
Her dear arms were immediately around his neck, and Dick knew that,
pleased as he might be at the fortunate happening, his feelings could
never keep pace with hers.
He could think of nothing else the balance of the day, while doing some
little work in the garden; and scores of times he figuratively hugged
himself in congratulation over his good luck.
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