It was Matilda's turn then. She set down the plate of strawberries Norton had given her, and hid her face in her hands.
Norton bore this for a minute, and no more. Then one of his hands came upon one of Matilda's, and the other upon the other, very gently but decidedly suggesting that they should come down.
"Pink!" said he, "this may do for mamma and you, but it is very poor entertainment for me. Come! leave that, and eat your strawberries, and let us go on the lawn. The sun will do now."
Matilda felt that this was reasonable, and she put by her own gratification. Nevertheless her eyes and eyelashes were all glittering when she lifted them up.
"What has mamma done to you?" said Norton, wondering. "Here, Pink, do you like strawberries?"
"If you please, Norton," said Matilda, "couldn't I have them another time? I don't want them now."
"Then they may wait till we have done playing," said Norton; "and then I'll have some too. Now come."
The great trees cast a flickering shadow on the grass before the house. Norton planted his hoops and distributed colours, and presently Matilda's sober thoughts were driven as many ways as the balls; and they went very widely indeed.
"You must take aim, Matilda?" Norton cried.
"At what?"