She was in great trouble then, poor thing; but she will tell you all about it.

She is getting old, you see, and old people are always fond of talking, they say--like your poor old grandmother--eh, Molly ?" "_Grandmother_," said Molly, flying at her and hugging her, for by this time they were in the drawing-room again, and Molly's spirits had quite revived.
The apples turned out very good indeed.

Even Ralph, who, since he had been in France, had grown so exceedingly "John Bull," that he could hardly be persuaded to praise anything not English, condescended to commend them.
"No wonder they're good," said Molly, as she handed him his second one, "they're _fairy_ apples I'm sure," and she nodded her head mysteriously.
"Fairy rubbish," said Ralph, taking a good bite of the apple's rosy cheek.
"Well, they're something like that, any way," persisted Molly.
"Grandmother said so." "_I_ said so! My dear! I think your ears have deceived you." "Well, grandmother dear, I know you didn't exactly say so, but what you said made me think so," explained Molly.
"Not quite the same thing," said grandmother.

"You shall hear to-morrow all there is to tell--a very simple little story.

How did you get on at school, to-day, Ralph ?" "Oh, right enough," said Ralph.