She handed it rather shyly to Beatrice, who happened to be her nearest neighbor.
"Mother sent these, and wants you all to share them," she remarked.
Beatrice, Francie, and Linda opened the hamper all three together, then with a delighted "O-Oh!" of satisfaction drew out six beautiful bunches of purple grapes.

Ingred, finishing her cup of tea, choked and coughed.
She knew those grapes well.

They grew in the vinery at Rotherwood, and had been the pride of her father and of the head-gardener.

She had not tasted one of them for five years, for during the war they had always been given to the patients in the Red Cross Hospital, but she could not forget their delicious flavor.

Why had her father let the vinery with the house?
The grapes ought to be hers to give away--not this girl's.
Nobody else in the room cared in the least where the fruit came from, so long as it was there.