The wing of a white sea swallow never swept a lovelier
curve on the breast of the ocean than the line of this valley.
My mother was the dearest little woman, and she used to say that
this valley was outlined by a gracious gesture from the hand of
God in the dawn of Creation."
Peter Morrison deliberately turned in his chair, his eyes intent
on Marian's earnest face.
"You almost make me want to say, in the language of an old hymn I
used to hear my mother sing, 'Here will I set up my rest.' With
such a name as Lilac Valley and with such a thought in the heart
concerning it, I scarcely feel that there is any use in looking
further. How about it, Henry? Doesn't it sound conclusive to
you?"
"It certainly does," answered Henry Anderson, "and from what I
could see as we drove in, it looks as well as it sounds."
Peter Morrison turned to his friend.
"Gilman," he said, "you're a lawyer; you should know the things
I'd like to. Are there desirable homesites still to be found in
the valley, and does the inflation of land at the present minute
put it out of my reach?"
"Well, that is on a par with the average question asked a
lawyer," answered Gilman, "but part of it I can answer definitely
and at once. I think every acre of land suitable for garden or
field cultivation is taken. I doubt if there is much of the
orchard land higher up remaining and what there is would command
a rather stiff price; but if you would be content with some small
plateau at the base of a mountain where you could set any sort of
a house and have--say two or three acres, mostly of sage and
boulders and greasewood and yucca around it "
"Why in this world are you talking about stones and sage and
greasewood?" cried Linda.
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