"You won't touch them again? Then I must," he added.
"No! no! Mr. Rose!" I cried. "I'll pick them up and take toll."
"Don't touch them!" said Lu, "they're so sweet!"
"Yes," he murmured lower, "they're like you. I always said so, you remember."
"Oh, yes! and every May-day but the last you have brought them to me."
"Have you the trailing-arbutus there?" asked Mr. Dudley.
"No," returned Rose.
"I thought I detected strawberries," submitted the other,—"a pleasant odor which recalls childhood to memory."
For some noses all sweet scents are lumped in one big strawberry; clovers, or hyacinths, or every laden air indifferently, they still sniff strawberries. Commonplace things!
"It's a sign of high birth to track strawberry-beds where no fruit is, Mr. Dudley," said I.