nobody ever eats it, do they?"

"Yes, I do. I love it. Let that thought cheer you on to victory. Oh!
here is another fat one, such a monster. Open your mouth again, wide,
and you shall have it, because you really do begin to look weak."

They are sitting on the strawberry bank, close together, with a small
square basket between them, and the pretty red and white fruit hanging
from its dainty stalks all round them.

Molly, in a huge hat that only partially conceals her face and throws a
shadow over her glorious eyes, is intent upon her task, while Luttrell,
sitting opposite to her, holds over her head the very largest family
umbrella ever built. It is evidently an old and esteemed friend, that
has worn itself out in the Massereenes' service, and now shows daylight
here and there through its covering where it should not. A troublesome
scorching ray comes through one of these impromptu air-holes and
alights persistently on his face; at present it is on his nose, and
makes that feature appear a good degree larger than Nature, who has
been very generous to it, ever intended.

It might strike a keen observer that Mr. Luttrell doesn't like the
umbrella; either it or the wicked sunbeams, or the heat generally, is
telling on him, slowly but surely; he has a depressed and melancholy
air.

"Is it good?" asks Molly, _a propos_ of the strawberry. "There,
you need not bite my finger. Will you have another? You really do look
very badly. You don't think you are going to faint, do you?"

"Molly," taking no notice of her graceful _badinage_, "why don't
you get your grandfather to invite you to Herst Royal for the autumn?
Could you not manage it in some way? I wish it could be done."

"So do I," returns she, frankly, "but there is not the remotest chance
of it. It would be quite as likely that the skies should fall. Why, he
does not even acknowledge me as a member of the family."

"Old brute!" says Luttrell from his heart.

"Well, it has always been rather a regret to me, his neglect, I mean,"
says Molly, thoughtfully, "and besides, though I know it is
poor-spirited of me, I confess I have the greatest longing to see my
grandfather."

"To '_see_' your grandfather?"

"Exactly."

"Do you mean to tell me," growing absolutely animated through his
surprise, "that you have never been face to face with him?"

"Never. I thought you knew that. Why, how amazed you look! Is there
anything the matter with him? is he without arms, or