"I'll never have the courage if you do.

Give it to me in the case, and let me open it.

Despite your unanswerable arguments, I am quite sure that is the only way in which I can take it." The Harvester gave her the box.
"My wedding gift!" she exclaimed, more to herself than to him.

"Why should I be the buffet of all the unkind fates kept in store for a girl my whole life, and then suddenly be offered home, beautiful gifts, and wonderful loving kindness by a stranger ?" The Harvester ran his fingers through his crisp hair, pulled it into a peak, stepped to the seat and sitting on the railing, he lifted his elbows, tilted his head, and began a motley outpouring of half-spoken, half-whistled trills and imploring cries.

There was enough similarity that the Girl instantly recognized the red bird.