Taste,' said Tom, boldly taking a sample from the scales while the
pound was being weighed out.

'It's like chestnuts,' Harry mumbled through the delicious brown frosted
morsel. 'But nicer.'

'They are rather like chestnuts, aren't they?' said Tom.

The marrons glaces were arranged neatly in a beautiful box; the box was
wrapped in paper of one colour, and then further wrapped in paper of
another colour, and finally bound in pink ribbon.

'Golly!' murmured Henry in amaze, for Tom had put down a large silver
coin in payment, and received no change.

They came out, Henry carrying the parcel.

'But will they do me any harm?' the boy asked apprehensively.

The two cousins had reached Hyde Park, and were lying on the grass, and
Tom had invited Henry to begin the enterprise of eating his birthday
present.

'Harm! I should think not. They are the best things out for the
constitution. Not like sweets at all. Doctors often give them to
patients when they are getting better. And they're very good for
sea-sickness too.'

So Henry opened the box and feasted. One half of the contents had
disappeared within twenty minutes, and Tom had certainly not eaten more
than two marrons.

'They're none so dusty!' said Henry, perhaps enigmatically. 'I could go
on eating these all day.'

A pretty girl of eighteen or so wandered past them.

'Nice little bit of stuff, that!' Tom remarked reflectively.

'What say?'

'That little thing there!' Tom explained, pointing with his elbow to the
girl.

'Oh!' Henry grunted. 'I thought you said a nice little bit of stuff.'

And he bent to his chestnuts again. By slow and still slower degrees
they were reduced to one.

'Have this,' he invited Tom.

'No,' said Tom. 'Don't want it. You finish up.'

'I think I can't eat any more,' Henry sighed.

'Oh yes, you can,' Tom encouraged him. 'You've shifted about fifty.
Surely you can manage fifty-one.'

Henry put the survivor to his lips, but withdrew it.

'No,' he said. 'I tell you what I'll do: I'll put it in the box and save
it.'

'But you can't cart that box about for the sake of one chestnut, my bold
buccaneer.'

'Well, I'll put it in my pocket.'

And he laid it gently by the side of the watch in his waistcoat pocket.

'You can find your way home, can't you?' said Tom. 'It's just occurred
to me that I've got some business to attend to.'

A hundred yards off the pretty girl was reading on a seat. His business
led him in that direc