“Oh! —­” Winnie sprang forward with an accent of joy, —­ “Strawberries! —­ Beautiful! and so sweet!  O Winthrop, aren’t they sweet! —­ how good they will be.”

“I hope so,” said he.  “How are you?”

“O —­ I’m well,” said Winnie.  “How big they are —­ and fresh.  They do smell so sweet, don’t they, Governor?”

Winthrop thought they were not so fresh nor so sweet as those which grew in the Bright Spot under Wut-a-qut-o; but he didn’t remind Winnie of that.  He smiled at her, as she was picking over her basket of strawberries with an eager hand.  Yet when Winnie had got to the bottom of the basket and looked up at him his face was very grave indeed.

“There’s plenty for you and me, Governor,” she said.

“No,” said her brother.

“There is plenty, Winthrop!”

“There is only just enough for you, and you must prove that by eating them all.”

“Why didn’t you get some for yourself, Governor!”

He answered that by spreading for her a particularly nice piece of bread and butter and laying it on her plate alongside of the strawberries.  Winnie took it in the same pleasant mood and began upon both with great zeal; but before she had got half through the strawberries something seemed to come over her recollection; and the latter part of the meal her face grew more shadowy than the growing evening.  When it was over, Winthrop placed her gently on the couch, and himself put away the dishes and glasses and eatables from the table.  Then he came and sat down beside her and drew her head to lean upon him.  It was darkening by that time, and the air coming in more and more fresh at the windows.

“Have you been very tired to-day?”

“No —­ I don’t know —­” said Winnie doubtfully.

“We couldn’t have our walk this evening —­ I am sorry for that —­ but I was kept so long with Bob Satterthwaite.  He is in a great feaze about some property that he thinks is owing to him somewhere, and he has been giving me a long detail of matters and things connected with the business. —­ I believe that if I were in practice he would commission me to get his rights for him.  And an old classmate and friend of mine, Bob Cool, was in town to-day and came to see me. He was expressing a very earnest wish that I were working on my own hook.”

“Oh I wish you were!” —­ said Winnie.

“Patience.  I shall be in a little while more, if all goes well.  Mr. Cool promises I shall have all his business.”

“Is that much?”

“I don’t know.  It seems so.”

“But isn’t Mr. Satterthwaite rich?”

“Yes —­ very.”

“Then what is he in a feaze about money for?”

“He is not so rich he mightn’t be richer, I suppose, Winnie. 
And besides, nobody likes to be cheated.”

“Is Mr. Haye rich?”

“Yes!  What made you think of him?”

Winnie hesitated.  “She was here to-day.”