"And you, too, love 'rocks and rills and wooded hills,'" exclaimed the boy in delight.
"I have always loved them," said the man. "The root of all evil does not flourish in Dame Nature's garden."
"Father! You're not mean, you're generous. You hadn't as much money as you wanted. You had to work for it."
"I wanted to make as much as your mother had. I was proud and foolish."
Dallas, who had been leaning up against his father, now broke away, and began to pace up and down the springy ground swinging his hands in eager boy fashion.
"My mother! My mother!" he cried. "Now at last we can talk about her. You must tell me everything. She is near me. I feel it. How shall I see her? Quick, please, tell me. Uncle Jim nearly drove me crazy."
Mr. Duff became scarlet. "You will soon, very soon, see your mother," he said in a low voice.
"Don't tell me she is a dream mother or a ghost mother," exclaimed Dallas. "I want a real mother with hands that I can take and hold fast! Of course, my Father, she is quite alive?"
His tone was terribly anxious, and Mr. Duff hastened to say re-assuringly, "Oh! yes, she is alive, very much alive. You will soon see her."
My boy had both hands at his throat now as if he were suffocating with joy. The past was nothing to him. He thought only of the future.