They peeped into the nesting places of canyon wrens and doves and finches, and listened to the exquisite courting songs of the birds whose hearts were almost bursting with the exuberance of spring and the joy of home making.

When they were tired out they went back to the dining room and after resting a time, they made a supper from the remnants of their dinner.

When they were seated in the car and Linda's hand was on the steering wheel, Donald reached across and covered it with his own.
"Wait a bit," he said.

"Before we leave here I want to ask you a question and I want you to make me a promise." "All right," said Linda.

"What's your question ?" "What is there," said Donald, "that I can do that would give you such pleasure as you have given me ?" Linda could jest on occasions, but by nature she was a serious person.
She looked at Donald reflectively.
"Why, I think," she said at last, "that having a friend, having someone who understands and who cares for the things I do, and who likes to go to the same places and to do the same things, is the biggest thing that has happened to me since I lost my father.