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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6676-0.txt b/6676-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4fcff09 --- /dev/null +++ b/6676-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5309 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rosy + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Release Date: March 16, 2014 [EBook #6676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + + + + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + + +ROSY + +BY + +MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY.' + + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: MANCHON] + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I. ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX + +CHAPTER II. BEATA + +CHAPTER III. TEARS + +CHAPTER IV. UPS AND DOWNS + +CHAPTER V. ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER + +CHAPTER VI. A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM + +CHAPTER VII. MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT + +CHAPTER VIII. HARD TO BEAR + +CHAPTER IX. THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR + +CHAPTER X. STINGS FOR BEE + +CHAPTER XI. A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT + +CHAPTER XII. GOOD OUT OF EVIL + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +MANCHON + +"BEATA, DEAR, THIS IS MY ROSY," SHE SAID + +ROSY AND MANCHON + +"WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?" HE SAID + +"DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?" ROSY REPEATED + +"WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?" SAID FIXIE + +BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH THEM + +"IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX. + + + "The highest not more + Than the height of a counsellor's bag." + --WORDSWORTH. + +Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat +fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth +till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows +over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a +house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the +floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all +to no purpose, and this made Rosy still more vexed. + +"Mamma," she said at last, for really it was too bad--wasn't it?--when +she had given herself such a lot of trouble to show how vexed she was, +that no one should take any notice. "_Mamma_" she repeated. + +But still no one answered, and obliged at last to turn round, for her +patience was at an end, Rosy saw that there was no one in the room. +Mamma had gone away! That was a great shame--really a _great_ +shame. Rosy was offended, and she wanted mamma to see how offended she +was, and mamma chose just that moment to leave the room. Rosy looked +round--there was no good going on pouting and frowning and drumming +and stamping to make mamma notice her if mamma wasn't there, and all +that sort of going on caused Rosy a good deal of trouble. So she left +off. But she wanted to quarrel with somebody. In fact, she felt that +she _must_ quarrel with somebody. She looked round again. The +only "somebody" to be seen was mamma's big, _big_ Persian cat, +whose name was "Manchon" (_why_, Rosy did not know; she thought +it a very stupid name), of whom, to tell the truth, Rosy was rather +afraid. For Manchon could look very grand and terrible when he reared +up his back, and swept about his magnificent tail; and though he had +never been known to hurt anybody, and mamma said he was the gentlest +of animals, Rosy felt sure that he could do all sorts of things to +punish his enemies if he chose. And knowing in her heart that she did +not like him, that she was indeed sometimes rather jealous of him, +Rosy always had a feeling that she must not take liberties with him, +as she could not help thinking he knew what she felt. + +[Illustration: ROSY AND MANCHON] + +No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his cushion +looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch his +ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up at +her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly +little girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still. + +"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't. +And I shan't like _her_. You needn't make faces at me," as +Manchon, disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort +of discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care +what mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I +_won't_ like her;" and then, without considering that there was +no one near to see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little +feet hard, and repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I +_won't_ like her." + +But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than +Rosy even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled +face, but not seeming very surprised. + +"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you." + +"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too +bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix." + +But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move. +Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater. + +"_Is_ you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he +came farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently +than before, "_do_ come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea +when Losy isn't there, and Fix is tired to-day." + +Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her. She +stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and hugged +him. + +"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if _you_ want +her. Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?" + +"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese +Fix _kite_ so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her +grasp. Instantly the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face. + +"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother +away from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her +cuddling you _skeesing_." + +Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But +just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix, +Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come +along. There's something good for tea." + +"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. +Again Rosy's mood changed. + +"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's +only troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take +Rosy's hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind +Colin--he's such a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, +appeared at the door, Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, +hand-in-hand, Rosy the picture of a model little elder sister. + +Colin just glanced at them and ran off. + +"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's +fluff for tea--strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all +the afternoon, and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said +cook said it was for the children!" + +Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed. + +There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on +the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said +there was nothing else. + +"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard +you yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'" + +"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I +didn't say it was for to-day--it's for to-morrow, Sunday." + +"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It +should be eaten at once." + +"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I +don't know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've +eaten it in the kitchen." + +"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've +always been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the +nursery," and he thumped impressively on the table. + +"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said +Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. + +"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and +speaking for the first time since she had come into the room. + +"Nonsense, Rosy," said Colin. "_I_ don't mind. Martha was only +joking." + +Rosy relapsed into silence, to Martha's relief. + +"If Miss Rosy is going to begin!" she had said to herself with fear +and trembling. She seldom or never ventured to joke with Rosy--few +people who knew her did--but Colin was the most good-natured of +children. She looked at Rosy rather curiously, taking care, however, +that the little girl should not notice it. + +"There's something the matter with her," thought Martha, for Rosy +looked really buried in gloom; "perhaps her mamma's been telling her +what she told me this morning. I was sure Miss Rosy wouldn't like it, +and perhaps it's natural, so spoilt as she's been, having everything +her own way for so long. One would be sorry for her if she'd only let +one," and her voice was kind and gentle as she asked the little girl +if she wouldn't like some more tea. + +Rosy shook her head. + +"I don't want nothing," she said. + +"What's the matter, Rosy?" said Colin. + +"Losy's bovvered," said Fixie. + +Colin gave a whistle. + +"Oh!" he said, meaningly, "I expect I know what it's all about. I +know, too, Rosy. You're afraid your nose is going to be put out of +joint, I expect." + +"Master Colin, don't," said Martha, warningly, but it was too late. +Rosy dashed off her seat, and running round to Colin's side of the +table, doubled up her little fist, and hit her brother hard with all +her baby force, then, without waiting to see if she had hurt him or +not, she rushed from the room without speaking, made straight for her +own little bedroom, and, throwing herself down on the floor with her +head on a chair, burst into a storm of miserable, angry crying. + +"I wish I was back with auntie--oh, I do, I do," she said, among her +sobs. "Mamma doesn't love me like Colin and Pixie. If she did, she +wouldn't go and bring a nasty, horrible little girl to live with us. I +hate her, and I shall always hate her--_nasty_ little thing!" + +The nursery was quiet after Rosy left it--quiet but sad. + +"Dear, dear," said Martha, "if people would but think what they're +doing when they spoil children! Poor Miss Rosy, but she is naughty! +Has it hurt you, Master Colin?" + +"No," said Colin, _one_ of whose eyes nevertheless was crying +from Rosy's blow, "not much. But it's so _horrid_, going on like +this." + +"Of course it is, and _why_ you can go on teasing your sister, +knowing her as you do, I can't conceive," said Martha. "If it was only +for peace sake, I'd let her alone, I would, if I was you, Master +Colin." + +Martha had rather a peevish and provoking way of finding fault or +giving advice. Just now her voice sounded almost as if she was going +to cry. But Colin was a sensible boy. He knew what she said was true, +so he swallowed down his vexation, and answered good-naturedly, + +"Well, I'll try and not tease. But Rosy isn't like anybody else. She +flies into a rage for just nothing, and it's always those people +somehow that make one _want_ to tease them. But, I say, Martha, I +really do _wonder_ how we'll get on when--" + +A warning glance stopped him, and he remembered that little Felix knew +nothing of what he was going to speak about, and that his mother did +not wish anything more said of it just yet. So Colin said no more--he +just whistled, as he always did if he was at a loss about anything, +but his whistle sometimes seemed to say a good deal. + +How was it that Colin was so good-tempered and reasonable, Felix so +gentle and obedient, and Rosy, poor Rosy, so very different? For they +were her very own brothers, she was their very own sister. There must +have been some difference, I suppose, naturally. Rosy had always been +a fiery little person, but the great pity was that she had been sadly +spoilt. For some years she had been away from her father and mother, +who had been abroad in a warm climate, where delicate little Felix was +born. They had not dared to take Colin and Rosy with them, but Colin, +who was already six years old when they left England, had had the good +fortune to be sent to a very nice school, while Rosy had stayed +altogether with her aunt, who had loved her dearly, but in wishing to +make her perfectly happy had made the mistake of letting her have her +own way in everything. And when she was eight years old, and her +parents came home, full of delight to have their children all together +again, the disappointment was great of finding Rosy so unlike what +they had hoped. And as months passed, and all her mother's care and +advice and gentle firmness seemed to have no effect, Rosy's true +friends began to ask themselves what should be done. The little girl +was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other +people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what +Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead +of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I +will soon tell you what it was. + +Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper +tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is +_nothing_ more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid +kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. Not like +the rather _nice_ tiredness one feels when one has been working +hard either at one's own business, or, _still_ nicer, at helping +other people--the sort of pleasant fatigue with which one lays one's +head on the pillow, feeling that all the lessons are learnt, and well +learnt, for to-morrow morning, or that the bit of garden is quite, +quite clear of weeds, and father or mother will be so pleased to see +it! But to fall half asleep on the floor, or on your bed, with +wearied, swollen eyes, and panting breath and aching head, feeling or +fancying that no one loves you--that the world is all wrong, and there +is nothing sweet or bright or pretty in it, no place for you, and no +use in being alive--all these _miserable_ feelings that are the +natural and the right punishment of yielding to evil tempers, +forgetting selfishly all the pain and trouble you cause--what +_can_ be more wretched? Indeed, I often think no punishment that +can be given can be half so bad as the punishment that comes of +itself--that is joined to the sin by ties that can never be undone. +And the shame of it all! Rosy was not quite what she had been when she +first came home to her mother--she was beginning to feel ashamed when +she had yielded to her temper--and even this, though a small +improvement, was always something--one little step in the right way, +one little sign of better things. + +She was not asleep--scarcely half asleep, only stupid and dazed with +crying--when the door opened softly, and some one peeped in. It was +Fixie. He came creeping in very quietly--when was Fixie anything but +quiet?--and with a very distressed look on his tiny, white face. +Something came over Rosy--a mixture of shame and sorrow, and also some +curiosity to see what her little brother would do; and these feelings +mixed together made her shut her eyes tighter and pretend to be +asleep. + +Fixie came close up to her, peeped almost into her face, so that if +she had been really asleep I rather think it would have awakened her, +except that all he did was so _very_ gentle and like a little +mouse; and then, quite satisfied that she was fast asleep, he slowly +settled himself down on the floor by her side. + +"Poor Losy," he said softly. "Fixie are so solly for you. Poor +Losy--why can't her be good? Why doesn't God make Losy good all in a +minute? Fixie always akses God to make her good"--he stopped in his +whispered talk, suddenly--he had fancied for a moment that Rosy was +waking, and it was true that she had moved. She had given a sort of +wriggle, for, sweet and gentle as Fixie was, she did not at all like +being spoken of as _not_ good. She didn't see why he need pray to +God to make _her_ good, more than other people, she said to +herself, and for half a second she was inclined to jump up and tell +Pix to go away; it wasn't his business whether she was good or +naughty, and she wouldn't have him in her room. But she did _not_ +do so,--she lay still again, and she was glad she had, for poor Fixie +stopped in his talking to pat her softly. + +"Don't wake, poor Losy," he said. "Go on sleeping, Losy, if you are so +tired, and Fix will watch aside you and take care of you." + +He seemed to have forgotten all about her being naughty--he sat beside +her, patting her softly, and murmuring a sort of cooing "Hush, hush, +Losy," as if she were a baby, that was very touching, like the murmur +of a sad little dove. And by and by, with going on repeating it so +often, his own head began to feel confused and drowsy--it dropped +lower and lower, and at last found a resting-place on Rosy's knees. +Rosy, who had really been getting sleepy, half woke up when she felt +the weight of her little brother's head and shoulder upon her--she +moved him a little so that he should lie more comfortably, and put one +arm round him. + +"Dear Fixie," she said to herself, "I do love him, and I'm sure he +loves me," and her face grew soft and gentle--and when Rosy's face +looked like that it was very pretty and sweet. But it quickly grew +dark and gloomy again as another thought struck her. "If Fixie loves +that nasty little girl better than me or as much--if he loves her +_at all_, I'll--I don't know what I'll do. I'd almost hate him, +and I'm sure I'll hate her, any way. Mamma says she's such a dear good +little girl--that means that everybody'll say _I'm_ naughtier +than ever." + +But just then Fixie moved a little and whispered something in his +sleep. + +"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught +the sound of her voice. + +"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again. + +And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BEATA. + + + "How will she be--fair-haired or dark, + Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet? + --All that I care not for, so she be no phraser." + --OLD PLAY. + +"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin, +She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and +Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And +what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she +caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight. + +"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it +doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds +of times. It's nothing, only--" and Colin gave a sort of wriggle. + +"Only what?" said his mother. + +"I do so wish Rosy wouldn't be like that. It spoils everything. Just +this Easter holiday time too, when I thought we'd be so happy." + +His mother's face grew still graver. + +"Do you mean that it was _Rosy_ that struck you--that hit you in +the eye?" she said. + +Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I +teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put +out of joint when Be--I can't say her name--when the little girl +comes." + +"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained +to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I +thought you would have tried to help me, Colin." + +Colin felt very vexed with himself. + +"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I +could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the +way, and one has to learn not to mind it." + +"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn +not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just +now, especially not about little Beata." + +"Mother," said Colin. + +"Well, my boy," said his mother. + +"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say." + +"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I +daresay you can call her so." + +"Yes, that would be much better," said Colin, in a more contented +tone. + +"Only," said his mother again, and she couldn't help smiling a little +when she said it, "if you call her 'Bee,' don't make it the beginning +of any new teasing by calling Rosy 'Wasp.'" + +"Mother!" said Colin. "I daresay I would never have thought of it. But +I promise you I won't." + +This was what had upset Rosy so terribly--the coming of little Beata. +She--Beata--was the child of friends of Rosy's parents. They had been +much together in India, and had returned to England at the same time. +So Beata was already well known to Rosy's mother, and Fixie, too, had +learnt to look upon her almost as a sister. Beata's father and mother +were obliged to go back to India, and it had been settled that their +little girl was to be left at home with her grandmother. But just a +short time before they were to leave, her grandmother had a bad +illness, and it was found she would not be well enough to take charge +of the child. And in the puzzle about what they should do with her, it +had struck her father and mother that perhaps their friends, Rosy's +parents, might be able to help them, and they had written to ask them; +and so it had come about that little Beata was to come to live with +them. It had all seemed so natural and nice. Rosy's mother was so +pleased about it, for she thought it would be just what Rosy needed to +make her a pleasanter and more reasonable little girl. + +"Beata is such a nice child," she said to Rosy's father when they were +talking about it, "and not one bit spoilt. I think it is _sure_ +to do Rosy good," and, full of pleasure in the idea, she told Rosy +about it. + +But--one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him +drink, says the old proverb--Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the +very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming +was on purpose to vex _her_, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most +things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what +had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her--when she would +have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! + +Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say +no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as +he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his +delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing +in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt +by her _exactingness_. Fixie must love her as much or better than +anybody--he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. +That was how she sometimes talked to him, and it puzzled and +frightened him--he was such a very little fellow, you see. And +_mother_ had never told him that loving other people too made his +love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata +had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to +say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy +must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had +been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. + +Rosy's mother thought over what Colin had told her, and settled in her +own mind that it was better to take no notice of it in speaking to +Rosy. + +"If it had been a quarrel about anything else," she said to herself, +"it would have been different. But about Beata I want to say nothing +more to vex Rosy, or wake her unkind feelings." + +But Rosy's mother did not yet quite know her little girl. There was +one thing about her which was _not_ spoilt, and that was her +honesty. + +When the children came down that morning to see their mother, as they +always did, a little after breakfast, Rosy's face wore a queer look. + +"Good morning, little people," said their mother. "I was rather late +this morning, do you know? That was why I didn't come to see you in +the nursery. I am going to write to your aunt to-day. Would you like +to put in a little letter, Rosy?" + +"No, thank you," said Rosy. + +"Then shall I just send your love? and Fixie's too?" said her mother. +She went on speaking because she noticed the look in Rosy's face, but +she wanted not to seem to do so, thinking Rosy would then gradually +forget about it all. + +"I don't want to send my love," said Rosy. "If you say I _must_, +I suppose I must, but I don't _want_ to send it." + +"Do you think your love is not worth having, my poor little girl?" +said her mother, smiling a little sadly, as she drew Rosy to her. +"Don't you believe we all love you, Rosy, and want you to love us?" + +"I don't know," said Rosy, gloomily. "I don't think anybody can love +me, for Martha's always saying if I do naughty things _you_ won't +love me and father won't love me, and nobody." + +"Then why don't you leave off doing naughty things, Rosy?" said her +mother. + +"Oh, I can't," Rosy replied, coolly. "I suppose I was spoilt at +auntie's, and now I'm too old to change. I don't care. It isn't my +fault: it's auntie's." + +"Rosy," said her mother, gravely, "who ever said so to you? Where did +you ever hear such a thing?" + +"Lots of times," Rosy replied. "Martha's said so, and Colin says so +when he's vexed with me. He's always said so," she added, as if she +didn't quite like owning it, but felt that she must. "He said I was +spoilt before you came home, but auntie wouldn't let him. _She_ +thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she +thought so too. + +"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if +you ask _yourself_, Rosy, you will very often find that you are +not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it +is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You +must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt +was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her." + +"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit +Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. I was going to tell you--I meant to +tell you." + +"And are you sorry for it now, Rosy dear?" asked her mother, very +gently. + +Rosy looked at her in surprise. Her mother spoke so gently. She had +rather expected her to be shocked--she had almost, if you can +understand, _wished_ her to be shocked, so that she could say to +herself how naughty everybody thought her, how it was no use her +trying to be good and all the rest of it--and she had told over what +she had done in a hard, _un_sorry way, almost on purpose. But +now, when her mother spoke so kindly, a different feeling came into +her heart. She looked at her mother, and then she looked down on the +ground, and then, almost to her own surprise, she answered, almost +humbly, + +"I don't know. I don't think I was, but I think I am a little sorry +now." + +Seeing her so unusually gentle, her mother went a little further. +"What made you so vexed with Colin?" she asked. Rosy's face hardened. + +"Mother," she said, "you'd better not ask me. It was because of +something he said that I don't want to tell you." + +"About Beata?" asked her mother. + +"Well," said Rosy, "if you know about it, it isn't my fault if you are +vexed. I don't want her to come--I don't want _any_ little girl +to come, because I know I shan't like her. I like boys better than +girls, and I don't like good little girls _at all_." + +"Rosy," said her mother, "you are talking so sillily that if Fixie +even talked like that I should be quite surprised. I won't answer you. +I will not say any more about Beata--you know what I wish, and what is +right, and so I will leave it to you. And I will give you a kiss, my +little girl, to show you that I want to trust you to try to do right +about this." + +She was stooping to kiss her, when Rosy stopped her. + +"Thank you, mother," she said. "But I don't think I can take the kiss +like that--I don't _want_ to like the little girl." + +"Rosy!" exclaimed her mother, almost in despair. Then another thought +struck her. She bent down again and kissed the child. "I _give_ +you the kiss, Rosy," she said, "hoping it will at least make you +_wish_ to please me." + +"Oh," said Rosy, "I do want to please you, mother, about everything +_except_ that." + +But her mother thought it best to take no further notice, only in her +own heart she said to herself, "Was there _ever_ such a child?" + +In spite of all she had said Rosy felt, what she would not have owned +for the world, a good deal of curiosity about the little girl who was +to come to live with them. And now and then, in her cross and unhappy +moods, a sort of strange confused _hope_ would creep over her +that Beata's coming would bring her a kind of good luck. + +"Everybody says she's so good, and everybody loves her," thought Rosy, +"p'raps I'll find out how she does it." + +And the days passed on, on the whole, after the storm I have told you +about, rather more peaceably than before, till one evening when Rosy +was saying good-night her mother said to her quietly, + +"Rosy, I had a letter this morning from Beata's uncle; he is bringing +her to-morrow. She will be here about four o'clock in the afternoon." + +"To-morrow!" said Rosy, and then, without saying any more, she kissed +her mother and went to bed. + +She went to sleep that evening, and she woke the next morning with a +strange jumble of feelings in her mind, and a strange confusion of +questions waiting to be answered. + +"What would Beata be like? She was sure to be pretty--all people that +other people love very much were pretty, Rosy thought. And she +believed that she herself was very ugly, which, I may tell you, +children, as Rosy won't hear what we say, was quite a mistake. +Everybody is a _little_ pretty who is sweet and good, for though +being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the +shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines +smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives +the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, +alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away +the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good +fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to +be pretty. She had very soft bright hair, and a very white skin, and +large brown eyes that looked lovely when she let sweet thoughts and +feelings shine through them; but though she had many faults, she was +not vain, and she really thought she was not pleasant-looking at all. + +"Beata is sure to be pretty," thought Rosy. "I daresay she'll have +beautiful black hair, and blue eyes like Lady Albertine." Albertine +was Rosy's best doll. "And I daresay she'll be very clever, and play +the piano and speak French far better than me. I don't mind that. I +like pretty people, and I don't mind people being clever. What I don't +like is, people who are dedfully _good_ always going on about how +good they are, and how naughty _other_ people is. If she doesn't +do that way I shan't mind so much, but I'm sure she _will_ do +that way. Yes, Manchon," she said aloud, "I'm sure she will, and you +needn't begin 'froo'in' about it." + +For Rosy was in the drawing-room when all these thoughts were passing +through her mind--she was there with her afternoon frock on, and a +pretty muslin apron, all nice to meet Beata and her uncle, who were +expected very soon. And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite +peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any +good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," +she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the +cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the +credit of reading her very thoughts! + +The door opened, and her mother came in, leading Fixie by the hand and +Colin just behind. + +"Oh, you're ready, Rosy," she said. "That's right. They should be here +very soon." + +"Welly soon," repeated Fixie. "Oh, Fixie will be so glad to see Beenie +again!" + +"What a stupid name," said Rosy. "_We_'re not to call her that, +are we, mother?" + +She spoke in rather a grand, grown-up tone, but her mother knew she +put that on sometimes when she was not really feeling unkind. + +"_I_ shall call her Bee," said Colin. "It would do very well, as +we've"--he stopped suddenly--"as we've got a wasp already," he had +been going to say--it seemed to come so naturally--when his mother's +warning came back to his mind. He caught her eye, and he saw that she +couldn't help smiling and he found it so difficult not to burst out +laughing that he stuffed his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth, and +went to the window, where he pretended to see something very +interesting. Rosy looked up suspiciously. + +"What were you going to say, Colin?" she asked. "I'm sure--" but she +too stopped, for just then wheels were heard on the gravel drive +outside. + +"Here they are," said mother. "Will you come to the door to welcome +Beata, Rosy?" + +Rosy came forward, though rather slowly. Colin was already out in the +hall, and Fixie was dancing along beside his mother. Rosy kept behind. +The carriage, that had gone to the station to meet the travellers, was +already at the door, and the footman was handing out one or two +umbrellas, rugs, and so on. Then a gray-haired gentleman, whom Rosy, +peeping through a side window, did not waste her attention on--"He is +quite old," she said to herself--got out, and lifted down a much +smaller person--smaller than Rosy herself, and a good deal smaller +than the Beata of Rosy's fancies. The little person sprang forward, +and was going to kiss Rosy's mother, when she caught sight of the tiny +white face beside her. + +"O Fixie, dear little Fixie!" she said, stooping to hug him, and then +she lifted her own face for Fixie's mother to kiss. At once, almost +before shaking hands with the gentleman, Rosy's mother looked round +for her, and Rosy had to come forward. + +"Beata, dear, this is my Rosy," she said; and something in the tone of +the "my" touched Rosy. It seemed to say, "I will put no one before +you, my own little girl--no stranger, however sweet--and you will, on +your side, try to please me, will you not?" So Rosy's face, though +grave, had a nice look the first time Beata saw it, and the first +words she said as they kissed each other were, "O Rosy, how pretty you +are! I shall love you very much." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +TEARS. + + + "'Twere most ungrateful."--V. S. LAKDOH. + +Beata was not pretty. That was the first thing Rosy decided about her. +She was small, and rather brown and thin. She had dark hair, certainly +like Lady Albertine's in colour, but instead of splendid curls it was +cut quite short--as short almost as Colin's--and her eyes were neither +very large nor very blue. They were nice gray eyes, that could look +sad, but generally looked merry, and about the rest of her face there +was nothing very particular. + +Rosy looked at her for a moment or two, and she looked at Rosy. Then +at last Rosy said, + +"Will you come into the drawing-room?" for she saw that her mother and +Beata's uncle were already on their way there. + +"Thank you," said Beata, and then they quietly followed the big +people. Rosy's father was not at home, but he would be back soon, her +mother was telling the gray-haired gentleman, and then she went on to +ask him how "they" had got off, if it had been comfortably, and so on. + +"Oh yes," he replied, "it was all quite right. Poor Maud!--" + +"That's my mamma," said Beata in a low voice, and Rosy, turning +towards her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. + +"What a queer little girl she is!" thought Rosy, but she did not say +so. + +"--Poor Maud," continued the gentleman. "It is a great comfort to her +to leave the child in such good hands." + +"I hope she will be happy," said Rosy's mother. "I will do my best to +make her so." + +"I am very sure of that," said Beata's uncle. "It is a great +disappointment to her grandmother not to have her with her. She is a +dear child. Last week at the parting she behaved like a brick." + +Both little girls heard this, and Beata suddenly began speaking rather +fast, and Rosy saw that her cheeks had got very red. + +"Do you think your mamma would mind if I went upstairs to take off my +hat? I think my face must be dirty with the train," said Beata. + +"Don't you like staying here?" said Rosy, rather crossly. "_I_ +think you should stay till mother tells it to go," for she wanted to +hear what more her mother and the gentleman said to each other, the +very thing that made Beata uncomfortable. + +Beata looked a little frightened. + +"I didn't mean to be rude," she said. Then suddenly catching sight of +Manchon, she exclaimed, "Oh, what a beautiful cat! May I go and stroke +him?" + +"If you like," said Rosy, "but he isn't _really_ a nice cat." And +then, seeing that Beata looked at her with curiosity, she forgot about +listening to the big people, and, getting up, led Beata to Manchon's +cushion. + +"Everybody says he's pretty," she went on, "but I don't think so, +because _I_ think he's a kind of bad fairy. You don't know how he +froos sometimes, in a most horrible way, as if he was mocking you. He +knows I don't like him, for whenever I'm vexed he looks pleased." + +"Does he really?" said Beata. "Then I don't like him. I shouldn't look +pleased if you were vexed, Rosy." + +"Wouldn't you?" said Rosy, doubtfully. + +"No, I'm sure I wouldn't. I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has +such an unkind dis--I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you +know." + +"Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its +only _me_ Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. _I'm_ +not the favourite. I _was_ at my aunty's though, that I was--but +it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head +dolefully. + +"Who is Nelson?" asked Beata. + +"Aunty's maid. She cried when I came away, and she said it was because +she was so sorry for me. It wouldn't be the same as _there_, she +said. I shouldn't be thought as much of with two brothers, and Nelson +knew that my mamma was dreadfully strict. I daresay she'd be still +more sorry for me if she knew--" Rosy stopped short. + +"Why don't you go on?" said Beata. + +"Oh, I was going to say something I don't want to say. Perhaps it +would vex you," said Rosy. + +Beata considered a little. + +"I'm not very easily vexed," she said at last. "I think I'd like you +to go on saying it if you don't mind--unless its anything naughty." + +"Oh no," said Rosy, "it isn't anything naughty. I was going to say +Nelson would be still more sorry for me if she knew _you_ had +come." + +"_Me!_" said Beata, opening her eyes. "Why? She can't know +anything about me--I mean she couldn't know anything to make her think +I would be unkind to you." + +"Oh no, it isn't that. Only you see some little girls would think that +if another little girl came to live with them it wouldn't be so +nice--that perhaps their mammas and brothers and everybody would pet +the other little girl more than them." + +"And do you think that?" said Beata, anxiously. A feeling like a cold +chill seemed to have touched her heart. She had never before thought +of such things--loving somebody else "better," not being "the +favourite," and so on. Could it all be true, and could it, +_worst_ of all, be true that her coming might be the cause of +trouble and vexation to other people--at least to Rosy? She had come +so full of love and gratitude, so ready to like everybody; she had +said so many times to her mother, "I'm _sure_ I'll be happy. I'll +write and tell you how happy I am," swallowing bravely the grief of +leaving her mother, and trying to cheer her at the parting by telling +her this--it seemed very hard and strange to little Beata to be told +that _anybody_ could think she could be the cause of unhappiness +to any one. "Do _you_ think that?" she repeated. + +Rosy looked at her, and something in the little eager face gave her +what she would have called a "sorry" feeling. But mixed with this was +a sense of importance--she liked to think that she was very good for +not feeling what she said "some little girls" would have felt. + +"No," she said, rather patronisingly, "I don't think I do. I only said +_some_ little girls would. No, I think I shall like you, if only +you don't make a fuss about how good you are, and set them all against +me. I settled before you came that I wouldn't mind if you were pretty +or very clever. And you're not pretty, and I daresay you're not very +clever. So I won't mind, if you don't make everybody praise you up for +being so _good_." + +Beata's eyes filled with tears. + +"I don't want anybody to praise me," she said. "I only wanted you all +to love me," and again Rosy had the sorry feeling, though she did not +feel that she was to blame. + +"I only told her what I really thought," she said to herself; but +before she had time to reflect that there are two ways of telling what +one thinks, and that sometimes it is not only foolish, but wrong and +unkind, to tell of thoughts and feelings which we should try to +_leave off_ having, her mother turned round to speak to her. + +"I think we should take Beata upstairs to her room, Rosy," she said. +"You must be tired, dear," and the kind words and tone, so like what +her own mother's would have been, made the cup of Beata's distress +overflow. She gave a little sob and then burst into tears. Rosy half +sprang forward--she was on the point of throwing her arms round Beata +and whispering, "I _will_ love you, dear, I _do_ love you;" +but alas, the strange foolish pride that so often checked her good +feelings, held her back, and jealousy whispered, "If you begin making +such a fuss about her, she'll think she's to be before you, and very +likely, if you seem so sorry, she'll tell your mother you made her +cry." So Rosy stood still, grave and silent, but with some trouble in +her face, and her mother felt a little, just a very little vexed with +Beata for beginning so dolefully. + +"It will discourage Rosy," she said to herself, "just when I was so +anxious for Beata to win her affection from the first." + +And Beata's uncle, too, looked disappointed. Just when he had been +praising her so for her bravery! + +"Why, my little girl," he said, "you didn't cry like this even when +you said good-bye at Southampton." + +"That must be it," said Rosy's mother, who was too kind to feel vexed +for more than an instant; "the poor child has put too much force on +herself, and that always makes one break down afterwards. Come, dear +Beata, and remember how much your mother wanted you to be happy with +us." + +She held out her hand, but to her surprise Beata still hung back, +clinging to her uncle. + +"Oh, please," she whispered, "let me go back with you, uncle. I don't +care how dull it is--I shall not be any trouble to grandmother while +she is ill. Do let me go back--I cannot stay here." + +Beata's uncle was kind, but he had not much experience of children. + +"Beata," he said, and his voice was almost stern, "it is impossible. +All is arranged here for you. You will be sorry afterwards for giving +way so foolishly. You would not wish to seem _ungrateful_, my +little girl, for all your kind friends here are going to do for you?" + +The word ungrateful had a magical effect. Beata raised her head from +his shoulder, and digging in her pocket for her little handkerchief, +wiped away the tears, and then looking up, her face still quivering, +said gently, "I won't cry any more, uncle; I _will_ be good. +Indeed, I didn't mean to be naughty." + +"That's right," he answered, encouragingly. And then Rosy's mother +again held out her hand, and Beata took it timidly, and followed by +Rosy, whose mind was in a strange jumble, they went upstairs to the +room that was to be the little stranger's. + +It was as pretty a little room as any child could have wished +for--bright and neat and comfortable, with a pleasant look-out on the +lawn at the side of the house, while farther off, over the trees, the +village church, or rather its high spire, could be seen. For a moment +Beata forgot her new troubles. + +"Oh, how pretty!" she said, "Is this to be my room? I never had such a +nice one. But when they come home from India for always, papa and +mamma are going to get a pretty house, and choose all the +furniture--like here, you know, only not so pretty, I daresay, for a +house like this would cost such a great deal of money." + +She was chattering away to Rosy's mother quite in her old way, greatly +to Rosy's mother's pleasure, when she--Mrs. Vincent, opened a door +Beata had not before noticed. + +"This is Rosy's room," she said. "I thought it would be nice for you +to be near each other. And I know you are very tidy, Bee, so you will +set Rosy a good example--eh, Rosy?" + +She said it quite simply, and Beata would have taken it in the same +way half an hour before, but looking round the little girl caught an +expression on Rosy's face which brought back all her distress. It +seemed to say, "Oh, you're beginning to be praised already, I see," +but Rosy's mother had not noticed it, for Rosy had turned quickly +away. When, however, Mrs. Vincent, surprised at Beata's silence, +looked at her again, all the light had faded out of the little face, +and again she seemed on the point of tears. + +"How strangely changeable she is," thought Mrs. Vincent, "I am sure +she used not to be so; she was merry and pleased just as she seemed a +moment or two ago." + +"What is the matter, dear?" she said. "You look so distressed again. +Did it bring back your mother--what I said, I mean?" + +"I think--I suppose so," Beata began, but there she stopped. "'No," +she said bravely, "it wasn't that. But, please--I don't want to be +rude--but, please, would you not praise me--not for being tidy or +anything." + +How gladly at that moment would she have said, "I'm not tidy. Mamma +always says I'm not," had it been true. But it was not--she was a very +neat and methodical child, dainty and trim in everything she had to do +with, as Rosy's mother remembered. + +"What _shall_ I do?" she said to herself. "It seems as if only my +being naughty would make Rosy like me, and keep me from doing her +harm. What _can_ I do?" and a longing came over her to throw her +arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck, and tell her her troubles and ask her +to explain it all to her. But her faithfulness would not let her think +of such a thing. "That _would_ do Rosy harm," she remembered, "and +perhaps she meant to be kind when she spoke that way. It was kinder +than to have kept those feelings to me in her heart and never told me. +But I don't know what to do." + +For already she felt that Mrs. Vincent thought her queer and +changeable, _rude_ even, perhaps, though she only smiled at +Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she +said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite. + +"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised." + +Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and +telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon +be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and +she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. + +"Miss Rosy," she said, "will you please to go into the nursery and put +away your dolls' things before tea. They're all over the table. I'd +have done it in a minute, but you have your own ways and I was afraid +of doing it wrong." + +She spoke kindly and cheerfully. + +"What a nice nurse!" thought Beata, with a feeling of relief--a sort +of hope that Martha might help to make things easier for her somehow, +especially as there was something very kindly in the way the maid +began to help her to unfasten her jacket and lay aside her travelling +things. To her surprise, Rosy made no answer. + +"Miss Rosy, please," said Martha again, and then Rosy looked up +crossly. + +"'Miss Rosy, please,'" she said mockingly. "You're just putting on all +that politeness to show off. No, I won't please. You can put the dolls +away yourself, and, if you do them wrong, it's your own fault. You've +seen lots of times how I do them." + +"Miss Rosy!" said Martha, as if she wanted to beg Rosy to be good, and +her voice was still kind, though her face had got very red when Rosy +told her she was "showing off." + +Beata stood in shocked silence. She had had no idea that Rosy could +speak so, and, sad as it was, Martha did not seem surprised. + +"I wonder if she is often like that," thought little Bee, and in +concern for Rosy her own troubles began to be forgotten. + +They went into the nursery to tea. Martha had cleared away Rosy's +things and had done her best to lay them as the little girl liked. But +before sitting down to the table, Rosy would go to the drawer where +they were kept, and was in the middle of scolding at finding something +different from what she liked when Colin and Fixie came in to tea. + +"I say, Rosy," said Colin, "you might let us have one tea-time in +peace,--Bee's first evening." + +Rosy turned round upon him. + +"_I_'m not a pretender," she said. "_I_'m not going to sham +being good and all that, like Martha and you, because Bee has just +come." + +"I don't know what you've been saying to Martha," said Colin, "but I +can't see why you need begin at me about shamming before Bee. You've +not seen me for two minutes since she came. What's the matter, Fix? +Wait a minute and I'll help you," for Fixie was tugging away at his +chair, and could not manage to move it as he wanted. + +"I want to sit, aside Bee," he said. + +Rosy threw an angry look at him--he understood what she meant. + +"I'll sit, aside you again to-morrow, Losy," he hastened to say. But +it did no good. Rosy was now determined to find nothing right. There +came a little change in their thoughts, however, for the kitchen-maid +appeared at the door with a plate of nice cold ham and some of the +famous strawberry jam. + +"Cook thought the young lady would be hungry after her journey," she +said. + +"Yes, indeed," cried Colin, "the young lady's very hungry, and so are +the young gentlemen, and so is the other young lady--aren't you, +Rosy?" he said good-naturedly, turning to her. "He is really a very +kind boy," thought Beata. "Tell cook, with my best compliments, that +we are very much obliged to her, and she needn't expect to see any of +the ham or the strawberry jam again." + +It was later than the usual tea-hour, so all the children were hungry +and, thanks to this, the meal passed quietly. Beata said little, +though she could not help laughing at some of Colin's funny speeches. +But for the shock of Rosy's temper and the confusion in her mind that +Rosy's way of speaking had made, Bee would have been quite happy, as +happy at least, she would have said, "as I can be till mamma comes +home again," but Rosy seemed to throw a cloud over everybody. There +was never any knowing from one minute to another how she was going to +be. Only one thing became plainer to Bee. It was not only because +_she_ had come that Rosy was cross and unhappy. It was easy to +see that she was at all times very self-willed and queer-tempered, +and, though Bee was too good and kind to be glad of this, yet, as she +was a very sensible little girl, it made things look clearer to her. + +"I will not begin fancying it is because I am in her place, or +anything like that," she said to herself. "I will be as good as I can +be, and perhaps she will get to like me," and Rosy was puzzled and +perhaps, in her strange contradiction, a little vexed at the brighter +look that came over Bee's face, and the cheery way in which she spoke. +For at the first, when she saw how much Bee had taken to heart what +she said, though her _best_ self felt sorry for the little +stranger, she had liked the feeling that she would be a sort of master +over her, and that the fear of seeming to take _her_ place would +prevent Bee from making friends with the others more than she, Rosy, +chose to allow. + +Poor Rosy! She would have herself been shocked had she seen written +down in plain words all the feelings her jealous temper caused her. +But almost the worst of jealousy is that it hides itself in so many +dresses, and gives itself so many names, sometimes making itself seem +quite a right and proper feeling; often, very often making one think +oneself a poor, ill-treated martyr, when in reality, the martyrs are +the unfortunate people that have to live with the foolish person who +has allowed jealousy to become his master. + +Beata's uncle left that evening, but before he went away he had the +pleasure of seeing his little niece quite herself again. + +"That's right," he said, as he bade her good-bye, "I don't know what +came over you this afternoon." + +Beata did not say anything, but she just kissed her uncle, and +whispered, "Give my love to dear grandmother, and tell her I am going +to try to be very good." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +UPS AND DOWNS. + + + "Mary, Mary, quite contrary."--NURSERY RHYME. + +That night when Bee was in her little bed, though not yet asleep, for +the strangeness of everything, and all she had to think over of what +had happened in the day, had kept her awake longer than usual, she +heard some one softly open the door and look in. + +"Are you awake still, dear?" said a voice which Bee knew in a moment +was that of Rosy's mother. + +"Yes, oh yes. I'm quite awake. I'm not a bit sleepy," Beata answered. + +"But you must try to go to sleep soon," said Mrs. Vincent. "Rosy is +fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late +for little girls to be awake." + +"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the +first night--while everything is--different, you know--and new." + +"And a little strange and lonely, as it were--just at first. Don't be +afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so." + +"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking +at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with +you and Fixie again." + +"I'm very glad of that," said Mrs. Vincent. "And was it not then the +strange feeling that made you so unhappy this afternoon for a little?" + +Beata hesitated. + +"Tell me, dear," said Mrs. Vincent. "You know if I am to be a 'make-up +mother' for a while, you must talk to me as much as you _can_, as +if I were your own mother." + +She listened rather anxiously for Bee's answer, for two or three +little things--among them something Colin had said of the bad temper +Rosy had been in at tea-time--had made her afraid there had been some +reason she did not understand for Beata's tears. Bee lay still for a +minute or two. Then she said gently and rather shyly, + +"I am so sorry, but I don't know what's right to do. Isn't it +sometimes difficult to know?" + +"Yes, sometimes it is." Then Mrs. Vincent, in her turn, was silent for +a minute, and at last she said, + +"Would you very much rather I did not ask you why you cried?" + +"Oh yes," cried Bee, "much, much rather." + +"Very well then, but you will promise me that if the same thing makes +you cry again, you _will_ tell me?" + +"_Should_ I?" said Bee. "I thought--I thought it wasn't right to +tell tales," she added so innocently that Mrs. Vincent could not help +smiling to herself. + +"It is not right," she said. "But what I ask you to promise is not to +tell tales. It is to tell me what makes you unhappy, so that I may +explain it or put it right. I could not do my duty among you and my +other children unless I knew how things were. It is the _spirit_ +that makes tell-tales--the telling over for the sake of getting others +blamed or punished--_that_ is what is wrong." + +"I see," said Beata slowly. "At least I think I see a little, and I'll +try to think about it. I'll promise to tell you if anything makes me +unhappy, _really_ unhappy, but I don't think it will now. I think +I understand better what things I needn't mind." + +"Very well, dear. Then good-night," and Rosy's mother kissed Bee very +kindly, though in her heart she felt sad. It was plain to her that +Rosy had made Bee unhappy, and as she passed through Rosy's room she +stopped a moment by the bed-side and looked at the sleeping child. +Nothing could be prettier than Rosy asleep--her lovely fair hair made +a sort of pale golden frame to her face, and her cheeks had a +beautiful pink flush. But while her mother was watching her, a frown +darkened her white forehead, and her lips parted sharply. + +"I won't have her put before me. I tell you I _won't_," she +called out angrily. Then again, a nicer look came over her face and +she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of. + +"I didn't mean"--"sorry"--"crying," she said, and her mother turned +away a little comforted. + +"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You _do_ know what is +right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy +temper?" + + * * * * * + +The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful +trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night +before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up +the window-blind to look out. And as soon as she was dressed she was +only too delighted to join Rosy and Colin for a run before breakfast. +Children are children all the world over--luckily for themselves and +luckily for other people too--and even children who are sometimes +ill-tempered and unkind are sometimes, too, bright and happy and +lovable. Rosy was after all only a child, and by no means +_always_ a disagreeable spoilt child. And this morning seeing Bee +so merry and happy, she forgot her foolish and unkind feelings about +her, and for the time they were all as contented and joyous as +children should be. + +"Where is Fixie?" asked Beata. "May he not come out a little before +breakfast too?" + +"Martha won't let him," said Rosy. "Nasty cross old thing. She says it +will make him ill, and I am sure it's much more likely to make him ill +keeping him poking in there when he wanted so much to come out with +us." + +"I don't see how you can call Martha cross," said Colin. "And +certainly she's never _cross_ to Fixie." + +"How do _you_ know?" said Rosy, sharply. "You don't see her half +as much as I do. And she can always pretend if she likes." + +Beata looked rather anxiously at Colin. He was on the point of +answering Rosy crossly in his turn, and again Bee felt that sort of +nervous fear of quarrels or disagreeables which it was impossible to +be long in Rosy's company without feeling. But Colin suddenly seemed +to change his mind. + +"Shall we run another race?" he said, without taking any notice of +Rosy's last speech. + +"Yes," said Bee, eagerly, "from here to the library window. But you +must give me a little start--I can't run half so fast as you and +Rosy." + +She said it quite simply, but it pleased Rosy all the same, and she +began considering how much of a start it was fair for Bee to have. + +When that important point was settled, off they set. Bee was the first +to arrive. + +"You must have given me too much of a start," she said, laughing. +"Look here, Colin and Rosy, there's the big cat on the window-seat. +Doesn't he look solemn?" + +"He looks very cross and nasty--he always does," said Rosy. Then, +safely sheltered behind the window, she began tapping on the pane. + +"Manchon, Manchon," she said, "you can't scratch me through the glass, +so I'll just tell you what I think of you for once. You're a cross, +mean, _pretending_ creature. You make everybody say you're so +pretty and so sweet when _really_ you're--" she stopped in a +fright--"Bee, Bee," she cried, "just look at his face. I believe he's +heard all I said." + +"Well, what if he did?" said Beata. "Cats don't understand what one +means." + +"_Manchon_ does," said Rosy. "Come away, Bee, do. Quick, quick. +We'd better go in to breakfast." + +The two little girls ran off, but Colin stayed behind at the library +window. + +"I've been talking to Manchon," he said when he came up to them. "He +told me to give you his compliments, Rosy, and to say he is very much +obliged to you for the pretty things you said to him, and the next +time he has the pleasure of seeing you he hopes to have the honour of +scratching you to show his gratitude." + +Rosy's face got red. + +"Colin, how _dare_ you laugh at me?" she called out in a fury. +She was frightened as well as angry, for she really had a strange fear +of the big cat. + +"I'm not laughing," Colin began again, looking quite serious. "I had +to give you Manchon's message." + + [Illustration: 'WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?' HE SAID] + +Rosy looked at Bee. If there had been the least shadow of a smile on +Bee's face it would have made her still more angry. But Beata looked +grave, because she felt so. + +"Oh, I wish they wouldn't quarrel," she was thinking to herself. "It +does so spoil everything. I can't _think_ how Colin can tease +Rosy so." + +And sadly, feeling already tired, and not knowing what was best to do, +Beata followed the others to the nursery. _They_ did not seem to +care--Colin was already whistling, and though Rosy's face was still +black, no one paid any attention to it. + +But little Fixie ran to Bee and held up his fresh sweet face for a +kiss. + +"What is ze matter wif you, Bee?" he said. "You's c'ying. Colin, Losy, +Bee's c'ying," he exclaimed. + +"You're _not_, are you, Bee?" said Colin. + +"Are you, really?" said Rosy, coming close to her and looking into her +face. + +The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the +children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face. + +"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went +on, "what are you crying for?" + +Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck. + +"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, +oh, I do so wish--" and then she stopped. + +"What?" said Rosy. + +"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish +Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee. + +"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, _that_ wasn't anything--you +should hear us sometimes." + +"_Please_ don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear +Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and +not have anything like that." + +Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand. + +"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because +you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I +daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a +while here." + +"Oh, I _hope_ not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, +Rosy?" + +"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you +do a _little_. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be +better than other people, or _pretending_." + +"But I _don't_ want to do that," said Beata. "I want to _be_ +good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than +other people, and I'm _sure_ I don't want to pretend. I don't +ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? I don't know what +I can say to make you believe me. I can't see that you should think it +such a very funny thing for me to want to be good. Don't _you_ +want to be good?" + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I suppose I do. I do just now, just at this minute. +And just at this minute I believe what you say. But I daresay I won't +always. The first time Colin teases me I know I shall leave off +wanting to be good. I shall want nothing at all except just to give +him a good hard slap--really to hurt him, you know. I do want to +_hurt_ him when I am very angry--just for a little. And if you +were to say anything to me _then_ about being good, I'd very +likely not believe you a bit." + +Just then Martha's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast. + +"Be quiet, Martha," Rosy called back. "We'll come when we're ready. Do +leave us alone. Just when we're talking so nicely," she added, turning +to Bee. "What a bother she is" + +"_I_ think she's very kind," said Bee, "but I don't like to say +anything like that to you, for fear you should think I'm pretending or +'setting up,' or something like that." + +Rosy laughed. + +"I don't think that just now," she said. "Well, let's go into the +nursery, then," and, as they came in, she said to Martha with +wonderful amiability, "We aren't very hungry this morning, I don't +think, for we had each such a big hunch of bread and some milk before +we ran out." + +"That was quite right, Miss Rosy," said Martha, and by the sound of +her voice it was easy to see she was pleased. "It is never a good +thing to go out in the morning without eating something, even if it's +only a little bit." + +Breakfast passed most comfortably, and by good luck Fixie hadn't +forgotten his promise to sit "aside Losy." "It was her turn," he said, +and he seemed to think the honour a very great one. + +"Do you remember on the steamer, Fixie?" said Bee, "how we liked to +sit together, and how hot it was sometimes, and how we used to wish we +were in nice cool England?" + +"Oh ses," said Fixie, "oh it _were_ hot! And the poor young lady, +Bee, that was so ill?" + +"Oh, do you remember her, Fixie? What a good memory you have!" + +Fixie got rather red. + +"I'm not sure that I 'membered her all of myself," he said, "but mamma +telled me about her one day. Her's quite welldened now." + +Bee smiled a little at Fixie's funny way of speaking, but she thought +to herself it was very nice for him to be such an honest little boy. + +"How do you know she's got well?" said Rosy, rather sharply. + +"Mamma telled me," said Fixie. + +"Yes," said Colin, "it's quite true. And the young lady's father's +going to come to see us some day. I don't remember his name, do you, +Bee?" + +"Not quite," said Bee, "yes, I think it was something like +_furniture_." + +"Furniture," repeated Colin, "it couldn't be that. Was it 'Ferguson'?" + +"No," said Bee, "it wasn't that." + +"Well, never mind," said Colin. "It was something like it. We'll ask +mamma. He is going to come to see us soon. I'm sure of that." + +Later in the day Colin remembered about it, and asked his mother about +it. + +"What was the name of the gentleman that you said was coming to see us +soon, mamma?" he said--"the gentleman whose daughter was so ill in the +ship coming home from India." + +"Mr. Furnivale," replied his mother. "You must remember him and his +daughter, Bee. She is much better now. They have been all these months +in Italy, and they are going to stay there through next winter, but +Mr. Furnivale is in England on business and is coming to see us very +soon. He is a very kind man, and always asks for Fixie and Bee when he +writes." + +"That is very kind of him," said Bee, gratefully. + +But a dark look came over Rosy's face. + +"It's just as if _she_ was mamma's little girl, and not me," she +said to herself. "I hate people mamma knew when Bee was with her and I +wasn't." + +"Mr. Furnivale doesn't know you are with us," Mrs. Vincent went on; +"he will be quite pleased to see you. He says Cecilia has never +forgotten you; Cecilia is his daughter, you know." + +"Yes, I remember _her_ name," said Bee. "I wish she could come to +see us too. She was so pretty, wasn't she, Aunt--Lillias?" she added, +stopping a little and smiling. Lillias was Mrs. Vincent's name, and it +had been fixed that Beata should call her "aunt," for to say "Mrs. +Vincent" sounded rather stiff. "You would think her pretty, Rosy," she +went on again, out of a wish to make Rosy join in what they were +talking of. + +"No," said Rosy, with a sort of burst, "I shouldn't. I don't know +anything about what you're talking of, and I don't want to hear about +it," and she turned away with a very cross and angry face. + +Bee was going to run after her, but Mrs. Vincent stopped her. + +"No," she said. "When she is so very foolish, it is best to leave her +alone." + +But though she said it as if she did not think Rosy's tempers of very +much consequence, Beata saw the sad disappointed look on her face. + +"Oh," thought the little girl, "how I _do_ wish I could do +anything to keep Rosy from vexing her mother." + +It was near bed-time when they had been talking about Mr. Furnivale +and his daughter, and soon after the children all said good-night. +Rather to Bee's surprise, Rosy, who had hidden herself in the window +with a book, came out when she was called and said good-night quite +pleasantly. + +"I wonder she doesn't feel ashamed," thought Bee, "I'm sure I never +spoke like that to my mamma, but if ever I had, I couldn't have said +good-night without saying I was sorry." + +And it was with a slight feeling of self-approval that Beata went up +to bed. When she was undressed she went into the nursery for a moment +to ask Martha to brush her hair. Fixie was not yet asleep, and the +nurse looked troubled. + +"Is Fixie ill?" said Bee. + +"No, I hope not," said Martha, "but he's troubled. Miss Rosy's been in +to say good-night to him, and she's set him off his sleep, I'm sure." + +"I'm so unhappy, Bee," whispered Fixie, when Beata stooped over him to +say good-night. "Losy's been 'peaking to me, and she says nobody loves +her, not _nobody_. She's so unhappy, Bee." + +A little feeling of pain went through Bee. Perhaps Rosy _was_ +really unhappy and sorry for what she had said, though she had not +told any one so. And the thought of it kept Bee from going to sleep as +quickly as usual. "Rosy is so puzzling," she thought. "It is so +difficult to understand her." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER. + + + "Whenever you find your heart despair + Of doing some goodly thing, + Con over this strain, try bravely again, + And remember the spider and king." + --TRY AGAIN. + +She did go to sleep at last, and she slept for a while very soundly. +But suddenly she awoke, awoke quite completely, and with the feeling +that something had awakened her, though what she did not know. She sat +up in bed and looked about her, if you can call staring out into the +dark where you can see nothing "looking about you." It seemed to be a +very dark night; there was no chink of moonlight coming in at the +window, and everything was perfectly still. Beata could not help +wondering what had awakened her, and she was settling herself to sleep +again when a little sound caught her ears. It was a kind of low, +choking cry, as if some one was crying bitterly and trying to stuff +their handkerchief into their mouth, or in some way prevent the sound +being heard. Beata felt at first a very little frightened, and then, +as she became quite sure that it was somebody crying, very sorry and +uneasy. What could be the matter? Was it Fixie? No, the sounds did not +come from the nursery side. Beata sat up in bed to hear more clearly, +and then amidst the crying she distinguished her own name. + +"Bee," said the sobbing voice, "Bee, I wish you'd come to speak to me. +Are you asleep, Bee?" + +In a moment Beata was out of bed, for there was no doubt now whose +voice it was. It was Rosy's. Bee was not a timid child, but the room +was very dark, and it took a little courage to feel her way among the +chairs and tables till at last she found the door, which she opened +and softly went into Rosy's room. For a moment she did not speak, for +a new idea struck her,--could Rosy be crying and talking in her sleep? +It was so very unlike her to cry or ask any one to go to her. There +was no sound as Beata opened the door; she could almost have believed +it had all been her fancy, and for a moment she felt inclined to go +back to her own bed and say nothing. But a very slight sound, a sort +of little sobbing breath that came from Rosy's bed, made her change +her mind. + +"Rosy," she said, softly, "are you awake? Were you speaking to me?" + +She heard a rustle. It was Rosy sitting up in bed. + +"Yes," she said, "I am awake. I've been awake all night. It's dedful +to be awake all night, Bee. I've been calling and calling you. I'm so +unhappy." + +"Unhappy?" said Bee, in a kind voice, going nearer the bed. "What are +you so unhappy about, Rosy?" + +"I'll tell you," said Rosy, "but won't you get into my bed a little, +Bee? There is room, if we scrudge ourselves up. One night Fixie slept +with me, and you're not so very much bigger." + +"I'll get in for a little," said Beata, "just while you tell me what's +the matter, and why you are so unhappy." + +She was quite surprised at Rosy's way of speaking. She seemed so much +gentler and softer, that Bee could not understand it. + +"I'll tell you why I'm so unhappy," said Rosy. "I can't be good, Bee. +I never have cared to be good. It's such a lot of trouble, and lots of +peoples that think they're very good, and that other peoples make a +fuss about, are very pretending. I've noticed that often. But when we +had been talking yesterday morning all of a sudden I thought it would +be nice to be good--not pretending, but _real_ good--never cross, +and all that. And so I fixed I would be quite good, and I thought how +pleased you'd be when I never quarrelled with Colin, or was cross to +Martha, or anything like that. And it was all right for a while; but +then when mamma began talking about Mr. Furniture, and how nice he +was, and his daughter, and you knew all about them and I didn't, it +_all went away_. I told you it would--all the wanting to be +good--and I was as angry as angry. And then I said that, you remember, +and then everybody thought I was just the same, and it was all no +use." + +"Poor Rosy," said Bee. "No, I don't think it was no use." + +"Oh yes," persisted Rosy, "it was all no use. But nobody knew, and I +didn't mean anybody to know. Mamma and Colin and nobody could see I +was sorry when I said good-night--_could_ they?" she said, with a +tone of satisfaction. "No, I didn't mean anybody to know, only after I +was in bed it came back to me, and I was so vexed and so unhappy. I +thought everybody would have been _so_ surprised at finding I +could be just as good as anybody if I liked. But I don't like; so just +remember, Bee, to-morrow morning I'm not going to try a bit, and it's +no use saying any more about it. It's just the way I'm made." + +"But you do care, Rosy," said Bee, "I know you care. If you didn't you +wouldn't have been thinking about it, and been sorry after you were in +bed." + +"Yes, I _did_ care," said Rosy, with again a little sob. "I had +been thinking it would be very nice, But I'm not going to care--that's +just the thing, Bee--that's what I wanted to tell you--I'm not going +to go on caring." + +"Don't you always say your prayers, Rosy?" asked Bee, rather solemnly. + +"Yes, _of course_ I do. But I don't think they're much good. I've +been just as naughty some days when I'd said them _beautifully_, +as some days when I'd been in a hurry." + +Beata felt puzzled. + +"I can't explain about it properly," she said. "But that isn't the +way, I don't think. Mother told me if I thought just saying my prayers +would make me good, it was like thinking they were a kind of magic, +and that isn't what we should think them." + +"What good are they then?" said Rosy. + +"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee. +"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives +us a sort of feeling that _He_, you know, Rosy, that God is +smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's _always_ +ready to help us." + +"_Is_ He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser +about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do +make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good." + +"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not +good and you don't care. But I think you _do_ care, only," with a +sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot." + +"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly. + +"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that +you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But +please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. _Do_ go on. It will get +easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the +piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier +for the next time." + +"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone. +"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning +what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again +to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to +be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the +naughty ones you could keep out of my way." + +"It wouldn't do at all," said Bee, decidedly. "It would be like going +up two steps and then tumbling back two steps. No, it would be worse, +it would be like going up two and tumbling back three, for every +naughty day would make it still harder to begin again on the good +day." + +"Well, I won't do that way, then," said Rosy, with wonderful +gentleness. "I'll either _go on_ trying to climb up the steps--how +funnily you say things, Bee!--or I'll not try at all. I'll tell you +to-morrow morning. But remember you're not to tell anybody. +If I fix to be good I want everybody to be surprised." + +"But you won't get good all of a sudden, Rosy," said Bee, feeling +afraid that Rosy would again lose heart at the first break-down. + +"Well, I daresay I won't," returned Rosy. "But don't you see if nobody +but you knows it won't so much matter. But if I was to tell everybody +then it would all seem pretending, and there's nothing so horrid as +pretending." + +There was some sense in Rosy's ideas, and Bee did not go against them. +She went back to her own bed with a curious feeling of respect for +Rosy and a warm feeling of affection also. + +"And it was very horrid of me to be thinking of her that way +to-night," said honest Bee to herself. "I'll never think of her that +way again. Poor Rosy, she has had no mother all these years that I've +had my mother doing nothing but trying to make me good. But I am so +glad Rosy is getting to like me." + +For Rosy had kissed her warmly as they bade each other good-night for +the second time. + +"It was very nice of Bee to get out of bed in the dark to come to me," +she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is +pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's +friendship for Beata--_trust_. + +The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for +they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling +and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the +beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice +calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of +their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able +to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face +did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came +into the nursery. + +"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't +settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it." + +Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once +or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as +necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented +herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and +sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went +further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the +back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the +little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and +really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a +little scream, it is true--who could have helped it?--and then rushed +out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that +were running down her cheeks. + +"Colin," said Bee, and, for a moment or two, it almost seemed to the +boy as if Rosy's temper had passed into the quiet little girl, "I am +ashamed of you. You naughty, _cruel_ boy, just when poor Rosy +was----" + +She stopped suddenly--"just when poor Rosy was beginning to try to be +good," she was going to have said, forgetting her promise to tell no +one of Rosy's plans,--"just when we were all quiet and comfortable," +she said instead. + +Colin looked ashamed. + +"I won't do it any more," he said, "I won't really. Besides there's no +fun in only making her cry. It was only fun when it put her into a +rage." + +"Nice _fun_," said Bee, with scorn. + +"Well, you know what I mean. I daresay it wasn't right, but I never +meant really to hurt her. And all the fellows at school tease like +that--one can't help getting into the way of it." + +"I never heard such a foolish way of talking," answered Bee, who was +for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for +doing wrong things--that other people do them.'" + +"It's bad example--the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely +that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have +answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, +which put her on her guard. + +"You are trying to tease _me_ now, Colin," she said. "Well, I +don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone--any way for a +few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, +won't you?" + +She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her +honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease +me"--she went on--"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody." + +Colin could not help laughing. + +"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far +too good-natured. Well, I will promise you--I'll promise you more than +you ask--listen, what a grand promise--I'll promise you not to tease +Rosy for three whole months--now, what do you say to that, ma'am?" + +Bee's eyes glistened. + +"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. +Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to +tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me +about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it +wouldn't do half as well." + +"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went +on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I +promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to +school for three months." + +"_Are_ you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. +I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I +first came, you know." + +"Yes; and your lessons--yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a +little too--they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having +holidays just now." + +"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata. + +"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but +it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short." + +"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having +still another stranger to make friends with. + +"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy--she's afraid of her +tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy +is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee." + +"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In +three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said +again, smiling. + +"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee +thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, +for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good +plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, +and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad. + +Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the +other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked +at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about +_me_?" her look seemed to say. + +"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard +about her before." + +"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully. + +"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata. + +"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for +her--much. She's rather pretending." + +"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said +Bee. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that." + +"But if they _are_ pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy. + +Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue. + +"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's +way, for she thinks it of everybody." + +"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not _everybody_." + +"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some +people good who aren't good than think some people who _are_ good +_not_ good--wouldn't you, Bee?" + +Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin +meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always +very quick at doing so. + +"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there _are_ lots of +very kind and good people in the world--really kind and good, not +pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling +kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite +knowing how sometimes." + +Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in +saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I +think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want +_anybody_ to know--you remember, don't you?" + +"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody +will find out for themselves, without _my_ telling." + +And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they +fell asleep that night. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + "Multiplication's my vexation, + Division is as bad." + +Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. +The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he +had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the +little girls' lessons began. + +"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning. + +"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said. + +It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not +manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand +why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody +that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without +really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of +being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any +way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to +her. + +"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun +again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic." + +"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you +are grown-up if you cannot count--everybody needs to know how to +count, or else they can't manage their money." + +"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody +must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink." + +Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, +pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did +Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said +nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident. + +Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. +But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy +threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again. + +"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums--you'll +see." + +"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off +giving us sums for always." + +"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. _I_ won't do them." + +"I will," said Bee. + +"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?" + +"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if +she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning +arithmetic any more." + +"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very +fierce. + +"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me +to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell +your mother." + +"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. +"That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, +when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those +_horrible_ sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and +what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie +just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her +tempers off before her little brother. + +Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that +Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day +passed quietly. But the next morning it was the same thing. When they +came to the time at which they usually had their arithmetic, Rosy +looked up at Miss Pink with a determined air. + +"No arithmetic, Miss Pink, you know," she said. + +Miss Pink gave a sort of little laugh. + +"My dear Rosy," she said, "you are so very comical! Come now, get your +slate--see there is dear Beata all ready with hers. You shall not have +very hard sums to-day, I promise you." + +"Miss Pink," said Rosy, "I won't do _any_ sums. I told you so +yesterday, and you know I mean what I say. If Bee chooses to tell +tales, she may, but _I_ won't do any sums." + +Miss Pink looked from one to the other. + +"There is no use my doing sums without Rosy," said Bee. "We are at the +same place and it would put everything wrong." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink. "I cannot give you separate lessons. It would +put everything wrong. But I'm sure you're only joking, Rosy dear. We +won't say anything about the sums to-day, and then to-morrow we'll go +on regularly again, and dear Beata will see it will all be right." + +"No," said Rosy, "it won't be all right if you try to make me do any +sums to-morrow or any day." + +Bee said nothing. She did not know what to say. She could hardly +believe Rosy was the same little girl as the Rosy whom she had heard +crying in the night, who had made her so happy by talking about trying +to be good. And how many days the silly dispute might have gone on, +there is no telling, had it not happened that the very next morning, +just as they came to the time for the arithmetic lesson, the door +opened and Mrs. Vincent came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Pinkerton," she said. "I've come to see how you +are all getting on,"--for Miss Pinkerton did not live in the house, +she only came every morning at nine o'clock--"you don't find your new +pupil _very_ troublesome, I hope?" she went on, with a smile at +Beata. + +"Oh dear, no! oh, certainly not," said Miss Pinkerton nervously; "oh +dear, no--Miss Beata is very good indeed. Everything's very nice--oh +we're very happy, thank you--dear Rosy and dear Beata and I." + +"I am very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Vincent, but she spoke rather +gravely, for on coming into the room it had not looked to her as if +everything _was_ "very nice." Beata looked grave and troubled, +Miss Pinkerton flurried, and there was a black cloud on Rosy's face +that her mother knew only too well. "What lessons are you at now?" she +went on. + +"Oh, ah!" began Miss Pinkerton, fussing among some of the books that +lay on the table. "We've just finished a chapter of our English +history, and--and--I was thinking of giving the dear children a +dictation." + +"It's not the time for dictation," said Rosy. And then to Bee's +surprise she burst out, "Miss Pink, I wonder how you can tell such +stories! Everything is not quite nice, mamma, for I've just been +telling Miss Pink I won't do any sums, and it's just the time for +sums. I wouldn't do them yesterday, and I won't do them to-day, or any +day, because I hate them." + +"You 'won't' and you 'wouldn't,' Rosy," said her mother, so sternly +and coldly that Bee trembled for her, though Rosy gave no signs of +trembling for herself. "Is that a way in which I can allow you to +speak? You must apologise to Miss Pinkerton, and tell her you will be +ready to do _any_ lessons she gives you, or you must go upstairs +to your own room." + +"I'll go upstairs to my own room then," said Rosy at once. "I'd +'pologise to you, mamma, if you like, but I won't to Miss Pink, +because she doesn't say what's true." + +"Rosy, be silent," said her mother again. And then, turning to Miss +Pinkerton, she added in a very serious tone, "Miss Pinkerton, I do not +wish to appear to find fault with you, but I must say that you should +have told me of all this before. It is most mistaken kindness to Rosy +to hide her disobedience and rudeness, and it makes things much more +difficult for me. I am _particularly_ sorry to have to punish +Rosy to-day, for I have just heard that a friend is coming to see us +who would have liked to find all the children good and happy." + +Rosy's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Beata was on the point of +breaking in with a request that Rosy might be forgiven, but something +in Mrs. Vincent's look stopped her. Miss Pinkerton grew very red and +looked very unhappy--almost as if she was going to cry. + +"I'm--I'm very sorry--very distressed. But I thought dear Rosy was +only joking, and that it would be all right in a day or two. I'm sure, +dear Rosy, you'll tell your mamma that you did not mean what you said, +and that you'll do your best to do your sums nicely--now won't you, +dear?" + +"No," said Rosy, in a hard, cold tone, "I won't. And you might know by +this time, Miss Pink, that I always mean what I say. I'm not like +you." + +After this there was nothing for it but to send Rosy up to her own +room. Mrs. Vincent told Miss Pinkerton to finish the morning lessons +with Beata, and then left the schoolroom. + +Bee was very unhappy, and Miss Pink by this time was in tears. + +"She's so naughty--so completely spoilt;" she said. "I really don't +think I can go on teaching her. She's not like you, dear Beata. How +happily and peacefully we could go on doing our lessons--you and +I--without that self-willed Rosy." + +Bee looked very grave. + +"Miss Pink," she said, "I don't like you to speak like that at all. +You don't say to Rosy to her face that you think her so naughty, and +so I don't think you should say it to me. I think it would be better +if you said to Rosy herself what you think." + +"I couldn't," said Miss Pink. "There would be no staying with her if I +didn't give in to her. And I don't want to lose this engagement, for +it's so near my home, and my mother is so often ill. And Mr. and Mrs. +Vincent have been very kind--very kind indeed." + +"I think Rosy would like you better if you told her right out what you +think," said Bee, who couldn't help being sorry for Miss Pinkerton +when she spoke of her mother being ill. And Miss Pink was really +kind-hearted, only she did not distinguish between weak indulgence and +real sensible kindness. + +When lessons were over Mrs. Vincent called Bee to come and speak to +her. + +"It is Mr. Furnivale who is coming to see us to-day," she said. "It is +for that I am so particularly sorry for Rosy to be again in disgrace. +And she has been so much gentler and more obedient lately, I am really +_very_ disappointed, and I cannot help saying so to you, Bee, +though I don't want you to be troubled about Rosy." + +"I do think Rosy wants--" began Bee, and then she stopped, remembering +her promise. "Don't you think she will be sorry now?" she said. "Might +I go and ask her?" + +"No, dear, I think you had better not," said Mrs. Vincent. "I will see +her myself in a little while. Yes, I believe she is sorry, but she +won't let herself say so." + +Beata felt sad and dull without Rosy; for the last few days had really +passed happily. And Rosy shut up in her own room was thinking with a +sort of bitter vexation rather than sorrow of how quickly her +resolutions had all come to nothing. + +"It's not my fault," she kept saying to herself, "it's all Miss +Pink's. She knew I hated sums--that horrid kind of long rows worst of +all--and she just gave me them on purpose; and then when I said I +wouldn't do them, she went on coaxing and talking nonsense--that way +that just _makes_ me naughtier. I'd rather do sums all day than +have her talk like that--and then to go and tell stories to mamma--I +hate her, nasty, pretending thing. It's all her fault; and then she'll +be going on praising Bee, and making everybody think how good Bee is +and how naughty I am. I wish Bee hadn't come. I didn't mind it so much +before. I wonder if _she_ told mamma as she said she would, and +if that was why mamma came in to the schoolroom this morning. I +_wonder_ if Bee could be so mean;" and in this new idea Rosy +almost forgot her other troubles. "If Bee did do it I shall never +forgive her--never," she went on to herself; "I wouldn't have minded +her doing it right out, as she said she would, but to go and tell +mamma that sneaky way, and get her to come into the room just at that +minute, no, I'll never--" + +A knock at the door interrupted her, and then before she had time to +answer, she heard her mother's voice outside. "I'll take it in myself, +thank you, Martha," she was saying, and in a moment Mrs. Vincent came +in, carrying the glass of milk and dry biscuit which the children +always had at twelve, as they did not have dinner till two o'clock +with their father's and mother's luncheon. + +"Here is your milk, Rosy," said her mother, gravely, as she put it +down on the table. "Have you anything to say to me?" + +Rosy looked at her mother. + +"Mamma," she said, quickly, "will you tell me one thing? Was it Bee +that made you come into the schoolroom just at sums time? Was it +because of her telling you what I had said that you came?" + +Mrs. Vincent in her turn looked at Rosy. Many mothers would have +refused to answer--would have said it was not Rosy's place to begin +asking questions instead of begging to be forgiven for their naughty +conduct; but Rosy's mother was different from many. She knew that Rosy +was a strange character to deal with; she hoped and believed that in +her real true heart her little girl _did_ feel how wrong she was; +and she wished, oh, how earnestly, to _help_ the little plant of +goodness to grow, not to crush it down by too much sternness. And in +Rosy's face just now she read a mixture of feelings. + +"No, Rosy," she answered very gently, but so that Rosy never for one +instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not +said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then +quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy--you +seem to trust no one--not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee." + +Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad +to find Bee what she had always been--not to be obliged to keep to her +terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her +_worst_ self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that +her suspicions had no ground. + +"Bee _said_ she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she +said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you." + +"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother. +"You _know_ she would never have tried to get you into disgrace +in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must +tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I +will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of +ours--of your father's and mine----" + +"Mr. Furniture!" exclaimed Rosy, forgetting her tempers in the +excitement of the news. + +"Yes, Mr. Furnivale," said her mother, and she could not keep back a +little smile; "he is coming this afternoon. It would be punishing not +only you, but your father and Bee and myself--all of us indeed--if we +had to tell our old friend the moment he arrived that our Rosy was in +disgrace. So you may go now and ask Martha to dress you neatly. Mr. +Furnivale _may_ be here by luncheon-time, and no more will be +said about this unhappy morning. But Rosy, listen--I trust to your +honour to try to behave so as to please me. I will say no more about +your arithmetic lessons; will you act so as to show me I have not been +foolish in forgiving you?" + +The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she +was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her +mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were +not very far off, + +"Mamma, I _do_ thank you. I will try. I will do my sums as much +as you like to-morrow, only--" + +"Only what, Rosy?" + +"Can you tell Miss Pink that it is to please _you_ I want to do +them, not to please _her_, mamma--she isn't like you. I don't +believe what she says." + +"I will tell Miss Pink that you want to please me certainly, but you +must see, Rosy, that obeying her, doing the lessons she gives you by +my wish, _is_ pleasing me," said her mother, though at the same +time in her own mind she determined to have a little talk with Miss +Pink privately. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I know that." + +She spoke gently, and her mother felt happier about her little girl +than for long. + +Mr. Furnivale did arrive in time for luncheon. He had just come when +the little girls and Fixie went down to the drawing-room at the sound +of the first gong. He came forward to meet the children with kindly +interest in his face. + +"Well, Fixie, my boy, and how are you?" he said, lifting the fragile +little figure in his arms. "Why, I think you are a little bit fatter +and a little bit rosier than this time last year. And this is your +sister that I _don't_ know," he went on, turning to Rosy, +"and--why, bless my soul! here's another old friend--my busy Bee. I +had no idea Mrs. Warwick had left her with you," he exclaimed to Mrs. +Vincent. + +Mrs. Warwick was Beata's mother. I don't think I have before told you +Bee's last name. + +"I was just going to tell you about it, when the children came in," +said Rosy's mother. "I knew Cecilia would be so glad to know Bee was +with us, and not at school, when her poor grandmother grew too ill to +have her." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Furnivale, "Cecy will be glad to hear it. She +had no idea of it. And so when you all come to pay us that famous +visit we have been talking about, Bee must come too--eh, Bee?" + +Bee's eyes sparkled. She liked kind, old Mr. Furnivale, and she had +been very fond of his pretty daughter. + +"Is Cecy much better?" she asked, in her gentle little voice. + +"_Much_ better. We're hoping to come back to settle in England +before long, and have a nice house like yours, and then you are all to +come to see us," said Mr. Furnivale. + +They went on talking for a few minutes about these pleasant plans, and +in the interest of hearing about Cecilia Furnivale, and hearing all +her messages, Rosy, who had never seen her, and who was quite a +stranger to her father too, was naturally left a little in the +background. It was quite enough to put her out again. + +"I might just as well have been left upstairs in my own room," she +said to herself. "Nobody notices me--nobody cares whether I am here or +not. _I_ won't go to stay with that ugly old man and his stupid +daughter, just to be always put behind Bee." + +And when Beata, with a slight feeling that Rosy might be feeling +herself neglected, and full of pleasure, too, at Mrs. Vincent's having +forgiven her, slipped behind the others and took Rosy's hand in hers, +saying brightly, "_Won't_ it be nice to go and stay with them, +Rosy?" Rosy pulled away her hand roughly, and, looking very cross, +went back to her old cry. + +"I wish you'd leave me alone, Bee. I hate that sort of pretending. You +know quite well nobody would care whether _I_ went or not." + +And poor Bee drew back quite distressed, and puzzled again by Rosy's +changeableness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT. + + + "And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than these." + --SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. + +"Your little girl is very pretty, unusually pretty," Mr. Furnivale was +saying to Rosy's mother, as he sat beside her on the sofa during the +few minutes they were waiting for luncheon, "and she looks so strong +and well." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincent, "she is very strong. I am glad you think her +pretty," she went on. "It is always difficult to judge of one's own +children, I think, or indeed of any face you see constantly. I thought +Rosy very pretty, I must confess, when I first saw her again after our +three years' separation, but now I don't think I could judge." + +Mrs. Vincent gave a little sigh as she spoke, which made Mr. Furnivale +wonder what she was troubled about. The truth was that she was +thinking to herself how little she would care whether Rosy was pretty +or not, if only she could feel more happy about her really trying to +be a good little girl. + +"Your little girl was with Miss Vincent while you were away, was she +not?" said Mr. Furnivale. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother, "her aunt is very fond of her. She gave +herself immense trouble for Rosy's sake." + +"By-the-bye, she is coming to see you soon, is she not?" said Mr. +Furnivale. "She is, as of course you know, an old friend of ours, and +she writes often to ask how Cecy is. And in her last letter she said +she hoped to come to see you soon." + +"I have not heard anything decided about it," replied Mrs. Vincent. "I +had begun to think she would not come this year--she was speaking of +going to some seaside place." + +"Ah, but I rather think she has changed her mind, then," said Mr. +Furnivale, and then he went on to talk of something else to him of +more importance. But poor Mrs. Vincent was really troubled. + +"I should not mind Edith herself coming," she said to herself. "She is +_really_ good and kind, and I think I could make her understand +how cruel it is to spoil Rosy. But it is the maid--that Nelson--I +cannot like or trust her, and I believe she did Rosy more harm than +all her aunt's over-indulgence. And Edith is so fond of her; I cannot +say anything against her," for Miss Vincent was an invalid, and very +dependent on this maid. + +Little Beata noticed that during luncheon Rosy's mother looked +troubled, and it made her feel sorry. Rosy perhaps would have noticed +it too, had she not been so very much taken up with her own fancied +troubles. She was running full-speed into one of her cross jealous +moods, and everything that was said or done, she took the wrong way. +Her father helped Bee before her--that, she could not but allow was +right, as Bee was a guest--but now it seemed to her that he chose the +nicest bits for Bee, with a care he never showed in helping her. Rosy +was not the least greedy--she would have been ready and pleased to +give away anything, _so long_ as she got the credit of it, and +was praised and thanked, but to be treated second-best in the way in +which she chose to imagine she was being treated--_that_, she +could not and would not stand. She sat through luncheon with a black +look on her pretty face; so that Mr. Furnivale, whom she was beside, +found her much less pleasant to talk to than Bee opposite, though Bee +herself was less bright and merry than usual. + +Mrs. Vincent felt glad that no more was said about Aunt Edith's +coming. She felt that she did not wish Rosy to hear of it, and yet she +did not like to ask Mr. Furnivale not to mention it, as it seemed +ungrateful to think or speak of a visit from Miss Vincent except with +pleasure. After luncheon, when they were again in the drawing-room, +Mr. Furnivale came up to her with a small parcel in his hand. + +"I am so sorry," he began, with a little hesitation, "I am so sorry +that I did not know Beata Warwick was with you. Cecy had no idea of +it, and she begged me to give _your_ little girl this present we +bought for her in Venice, and now I don't half like giving it to the +one little woman when I have nothing for the other." + +He opened the parcel as he spoke; it contained a quaint-looking little +box, which in its turn, when opened, showed a necklace of glass beads +of every imaginable colour. They were not very large--each bead +perhaps about the size of a pea--of a large pea, that is to say. And +some of them were long, not thicker, but twice as long as the others. +I can scarcely tell you how pretty they were. Every one was different, +and they were beautifully arranged so that the colours came together +in the prettiest possible way. One was pale blue with little tiny +flowers, pink or rose-coloured raised upon it; one was white with a +sort of rainbow glistening of every colour through it; two or three +were black, but with a different tracery, gold or red or bright green, +on each; and some were a kind of mixture of colours and patterns which +seemed to change as you looked at them, so that you could _fancy_ +you saw flowers, or figures, or tiny landscapes even, which again +disappeared--and no two the same. + +"Oh how lovely," exclaimed Rosy's mother, "how very, very pretty." + +"Yes," said Mr. Furnivale, "they _are_ pretty. And they are now +rare. These are really old, and the imitation ones, which they make in +plenty, are not half so curious. Cecy thought they would take a +child's fancy." + +"More than a _child's_," said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. "I think +they are lovely--and what a pretty ornament they will be--fancy them +on a white dress!" + +"I am only sorry I have not two of them," said Mr. Furnivale, "or at +least _something_ else for the other little girl. You would not +wish me, I suppose, to give the necklace to Beata instead of to Rosy?" +he added. + +Now Mrs. Vincent's own feeling was almost that she _would_ better +like it to be given to Beata. She was very unselfish, and her natural +thought was that in anything of the kind, Bee, the little stranger, +the child in her care, whose mother was so far away, should come +first. But there was more to think of than this feeling of hers-- + +"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to +let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that +terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo +the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply +and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw +the children still more together." + +So she looked up at Mr. Furnivale with her pretty honest eyes--Rosy's +eyes were honest too--and like her mother's when she was sweet and +good--and said frankly, + +"You won't think me selfish I am sure--I think you will believe that I +do it from good motives--when I ask you not to change, but still to +give it to Rosy. I will take care that little Bee does not suffer for +it in the end." + +"And I too," said Mr. Furnivale, "If I _can_ find another +necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send +it--indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for +one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did +buy it for your own little girl." + +"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr. +Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the +lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy. + +"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked +towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and +Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were +playing, I should have said Beata and Felix--not Rosy). "I daresay she +will be going to scold me, now luncheon's over. I wish that ugly old +Mr. Furniture would go away," for all the cross, angry, jealous +thoughts had come back to poor Rosy since she had taken it into her +head again about Bee being put before her, and all her good wishes and +plans, which had grown stronger through her mother's gentleness, had +again flown away, like a flock of frightened white doves, looking back +at her with sad eyes as they flew. + +Rosy's good angel, however, was very patient with her that day. Again +she was to be tried with _kindness_ instead of harshness; surely +this time it would succeed. + +"Rosy dear," said her mother, quite brightly, for she had not noticed +Rosy's cross looks at dinner, and she felt a natural pleasure in the +thought of her child's pleasure, "Mr. Furnivale--or perhaps I should +say _Miss_ Furnivale--whom we all speak of as "Cecy," you know, +has sent you such a pretty present. See, dear--you have never, I +think, had anything so pretty," and she held up the lovely beads +before Rosy's dazzled eyes. + +"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed the little girl, her whole face lighting +up, "O mamma, how very pretty! And they are for _me_. Oh, how +very kind of Miss Furni--of Miss Cecy," she went on, turning to the +old gentleman, "Will you please thank her for me _very_ much?" + +No one could look prettier or sweeter than Rosy at this moment, and +Mr. Furnivale began to think he had been mistaken in thinking the +little Vincent girl a much less lovable child than his old friend +Beata Warwick. + +"How very, very pretty," she repeated, touching the beads softly with +her little fingers. And then with a sudden change she turned to her +mother. + +"Is there a necklace for Bee, too?" she said. + +Mrs. Vincent's first feeling was of pleasure that Rosy should think of +her little friend, but there was in the child's face a look that made +her not sure that the question _was_ quite out of kindness to +Bee, and the mother's voice was a little grave and sad, as she +answered. + +"No, Rosy. There is not one for Bee. Mr. Furnivale brought it for you +only." + +Then Rosy's face was a curious study. There was a sort of pleasure in +it--and this, I must truly say, was not pleasure that Bee had +_not_ a present also, for Rosy was not greedy or even selfish in +the common way, but it was pleasure at being put first, and joined to +this pleasure was a nice honest sorrow that Bee was left out. Now that +Rosy was satisfied that she herself was properly treated she found +time to think of Bee. And though the necklace had been six times as +pretty, though it had been all pearls or diamonds, it would not have +given Mrs. Vincent half the pleasure that this look of real unselfish +sorrow in Rosy's face sent through her heart. More still, when the +little girl, bending to her mother, whispered softly, + +"Mamma, would it be right of me to give it to Bee? I wouldn't mind +very much." + +"No, darling, no; but I am _very_ glad you thought of it. We will +do something to make up for it to Bee." And she added aloud, + +"Mr. Furnivale may _perhaps_ be able to get one something like it +for Bee, when he goes back to Italy." + +"Then I may show it to her. It won't be unkind to show it her?" asked +Rosy. And when her mother said "No, it would not be unkind," feeling +sure, with her faith in Bee's goodness that Rosy's pleasure would be +met with the heartiest sympathy--for "sympathy," dears, can be shown +to those about us in their joys as well as in their sorrows--Rosy ran +off in the highest spirits. Mr. Furnivale smiled as he saw her +delight, and Mrs. Vincent was, oh so pleased to be able to tell him, +that Rosy, of herself, had offered to give it to Bee, that that was +what she had been whispering about. + +"Not that Beata would have been willing to take it," she added, "she +is the most unselfish child possible." + +[Illustration: 'DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?' ROSY +REPEATED.] + +"And unselfishness is sometimes, catching, luckily for poor human +nature," said the old gentleman, laughing. And Mrs. Vincent laughed +too--the whole world seemed to have grown brighter to her since the +little gleam she believed she had had of true gold at the bottom of +Rosy's wayward little heart. + +And Rosy ran gleefully off to her friend. + +"Bee, Bee," she cried, "stop playing, do. I have something to show +you. And you too, Fixie, you may come and see it if you like. See," as +the two children ran up to her breathlessly, and she opened the box, +"see," and she held up the lovely necklace, lovelier than ever as it +glittered in the sunshine, every colour seeming to mix in with the +others and yet to stand out separate in the most beautiful way. "Did +you _ever_ see anything so pretty, Bee?" Rosy repeated. + +"_Never_," said Beata, with her whole heart in her voice. + +"Nebber," echoed Fixie, his blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual. + +"And is it _yours_, Rosy?" asked Bee. + +"Yes mine, my very own. Mr. Furniture brought it me from--from +somewhere. I don't remember the name of the place, but I know it's +somewhere in the country that's the shape of a boot." + +"Italy," said Bee, whose geography was not quite so hazy as Rosy's. + +"Yes, I suppose it's Italy, but I don't care where it came from as +long as I've got it. Oh, isn't it lovely? I may wear it for best. +Won't it be pretty with a quite white frock? And, Bee, they said +something, but perhaps I shouldn't tell." + +"Don't tell it then," said Bee, whose whole attention was given to the +necklace. "O Rosy, I _am_ so glad you've got such a pretty thing. +Don't you feel happy?" and she looked up with such pleasure in her +eyes that Rosy's heart was touched. + +"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the +least bit vexed, Bee, that _you_ haven't got it, or at least that +you haven't got one like it?" + +Beata looked up with real surprise. + +"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy +dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of +such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not +my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll +let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads +gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours! +Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?" + +"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly _pitty_. I could fancy I saw +fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly +kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them." + +"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of +calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and +the corners of his mouth went down. + +"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try +some day and see if we can hear any stories--any way we could fancy +them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I +think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right. +Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your +mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't _think_ how pretty it looks." + +Off ran the three children, and Mrs. Vincent, as she saw them coming, +was pleased to see, as she expected, the brightness of Rosy's face +reflected in Beata's. + +"Mother," whispered Rosy, "I didn't say anything to Bee about her +perhaps getting one too. It was better not, wasn't it? It would be +nicer to be a surprise." + +"Yes, I think it would. Any way it is better to say nothing about it +just yet, as we are not at all _sure_ of it, you know. Does Bee +think the beads very pretty, Rosy?" + +"_Very_," said Rosy, "but she isn't the least _bit_ vexed +for me to have them and not her. She's _quite_ happy, mamma." + +"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Vincent, "and so are you, my Rosy, +when you let yourself _be_ your best self. Rosy," she went on, "I +have a sort of feeling that this pretty necklace will be a kind of +_talisman_ to you--perhaps it is silly of me to say it, but the +idea came into my mind--I was so glad that you offered to give it up +to Bee, and I am so glad for you really to see for yourself how sweet +and unselfish Bee is about it. Do you know what a talisman is?" + +"Yes, mamma," said Rosy, with great satisfaction. "Papa explained it +to me one day when I read it in a book. It is a kind of charm, isn't +it, mamma?--a kind of nice fairy charm. You mean that I should be so +pleased with the necklace, mamma, that it should make me feel happy +and good whenever I see it, and that I should remember, too, how nice +Bee has been about it." + +"Yes, dear," said her mother. "If it makes you feel like that, it +_will_ be a talisman." + +And feeling remarkably pleased with herself and everybody else, Rosy +ran off. + +Mr. Furnivale left the next day, but not without promises of another +visit before very long. + +"When Cecy will come with you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"And give her my bestest love," said Fixie. + +"Yes, indeed, my little man," said Mr. Furnivale, "and I'll tell her +too that she would scarcely know you again--so fat and rosy!" + +"And my love, please," said Beata, "I would _so_ like to see her +again." + +"And mine," added Rosy. "And please tell her how _dreadfully_ +pleased I am with the beads." + +And then the kind old gentleman drove away. + +For some time after this it really seemed as if Rosy's mother's half +fanciful idea was coming true. There was such a great improvement in +Rosy--she seemed so much happier in herself, and to care so much more +about making other people happy too. + +"I really think the necklace _is_ a talisman," said Mrs. Vincent, +laughing, to Rosy's father one day. + +Not that Rosy always wore it. It was kept for dress occasions, but to +her great delight her mother let her take care of it herself, instead +of putting it away with the gold chain and locket her aunt had given +her on her last birthday, and the pearl ring her other godmother had +sent her, which was much too large for her small fingers at present, +and her ivory-bound prayer-book, and various other treasures to be +enjoyed by her when she should be "a big girl." And many an hour the +children amused themselves with the lovely beads, examining them till +they knew every one separately. They even, I believe, had a name for +each, and Fixie had a firm belief that inside each crystal ball a +little fairy dwelt, and that every moonlight night all these fairies +came out and danced about Rosy's room, though he never could manage to +keep awake to see them. + +Altogether, there was no end to the pretty fancies and amusement which +the children got from "Mr. Furniture's present." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HARD TO BEAR. + + + "Give unto me, made lowly-wise, + The spirit of self-sacrifice." + --ODE TO DUTY. + +For some weeks things went on very happily. Of course there were +little troubles among the children sometimes, but compared with a +while ago the nursery was now a very comfortable and peaceful place. + +Martha was quietly pleased, but she had too much sense to say much +about it. Miss Pink was so delighted, that if Bee had not been a +modest and sensible little girl, Miss Pink's over praise of her, as +the cause of all this improvement, might have undone all the good. Not +that Miss Pink was not ready to praise Rosy too, and in a way that +would have done her no good either, if Rosy had cared enough for her +to think much of her praise or her blame. But one word or look even +from her mother was getting to be more to Rosy than all the +good-natured little governess's chatter; a nice smile from Martha +even, she felt to mean _really_ more, and one of Beata's sweet, +bright kisses would sometimes find its way straight to Rosy's queerly +hidden-away heart. + +"You see, Rosy, it _does_ get easier," Bee ventured to say one +day. She looked up a little anxiously to see how Rosy would take it, +for since the night she had found Rosy sobbing in bed they had never +again talked together quite so openly. Indeed, Rosy was not a person +whose confidence was easy to gain. But she was honest--that was the +best of her. + +She looked up quickly when Bee spoke. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it's getting easier. But you see, Bee, there +have only been nice things lately. If anything was to come to vex me +very much, I daresay it would be just like it used to be again. +There's not even been Colin to tease me for a long time!" + +Rosy's way of talking of herself puzzled Bee, though she couldn't +quite explain it. It was right, she knew, for Rosy not to feel too +sure of herself, but still she went too far that way. She almost +talked as if she had nothing to do with her own faults, that they must +come or not come like rainy days. + +"What are you thinking, Bee?" she said, as Bee did not answer at once. + +"I can't tell you quite how I mean, for I don't know it myself," said +Bee. "Only I think you are a little wrong. You should try to say, 'If +things come to vex me, I'll _try_ not to be vexed.'" + +Rosy shook her head. + +"No," she said, "I can't say that, for I don't think I should +_want_ to try," and Beata felt she could not say any more, only +she very much hoped that things to vex Rosy would _not_ come! + +The first thing at all out of the common that did come was, or was +going to be, perhaps I should say, a very nice thing. A note came one +day to Rosy's mother to say that a lady, a friend of hers living a few +miles off, wanted to see her, to talk over a plan she had in her head +for a birthday treat to her two little daughters. These two children +were twins; they were a little younger than Rosy, and she did not know +them _very_ well, as they lived some way off; but Mrs. Vincent +had often wished they could meet oftener, as they were very nice and +good children. + +And when Lady Esther had been, and had had her talk with Rosy's +mother, she looked in at the schoolroom a moment in passing, and +kissed the little girls, smiling, and seeming very pleased, for she +was so kind that nothing pleased her so much as to give pleasure to +others. + +"Your mother will tell you what we have been settling," she said, +nodding her head and looking very mysterious. + +And that afternoon Mrs. Vincent told the children all about it. Lady +Esther was going to have a fête for the twins' birthday--a +garden-fête, for it was to be hoped by that time the weather could be +counted upon, and all the children were to have fancy dresses! That +was to be the best fun of it all. Not very grand or expensive dresses, +and nothing which would make them uncomfortable, or prevent their +running about freely. Lady Esther's idea was that the children should +be dressed in _sets_, which would look very pretty when they came +into the big hall to dance before leaving. Lady Esther had proposed +that Rosy and Bee should be dressed as the pretty French queen, Marie +Antoinette, whom no doubt you have heard of, and her sister-in-law the +good princess, Madame Elizabeth. Fixie was to be the little prince, +and Lady Esther's youngest little girl the young princess, while the +twins were to be two maids of honour. But Rosy's mother had said she +would like better for her little girls to be the maids of honour, and +the twins to be the queen and princess, which seemed quite right, as +the party was to be in their house. And so it was settled. + +A few days later Lady Esther sent over sketches of the dresses she +proposed to have, and the children were greatly pleased and +interested. + +"May I wear my beads, mamma?" asked Rosy. + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"I daresay you can," she said, and Rosy clapped her hands with +delight, and everything seemed as happy as possible. + +"But remember," said Mrs. Vincent, "it is still quite a month off. Do +not talk or think about it _too_ much, or you will tire yourselves +out in fancy before the real pleasure comes." + +This was good advice. Bee tried to follow it by doing her lessons as +usual, and giving the same attention to them. But Rosy, with some of +her old self-will, would not leave off talking about the promised +treat. She was tiresome and careless at her lessons, and Miss Pink was +not firm enough to check her. Morning, noon, and night, Rosy went on +about the fete, most of all about the dresses, till Bee sometimes +wished the birthday treat had never been thought of, or at least that +Rosy had never been told of it. + +One morning when the children came down to see Mr. and Mrs. Vincent at +their breakfast, which they often were allowed to do, though they +still had their own breakfast earlier than the big people, in the +nursery with Martha, Beata noticed that Rosy's mother looked grave and +rather troubled. Bee took no notice of it, however, except that when +she kissed her, she said softly, + +"Are you not quite well, auntie?" for so Rosy's mother liked her to +call her. + +"Oh yes, dear, I am quite well," she answered, though rather wearily, +and a few minutes after, when Mr. Vincent had gone out to speak to +some of the servants, she called Rosy and Bee to come to her. + +"Rosy and Bee," she said kindly but gravely, "do you remember my +advising you not to talk or to think too much about Lady Esther's +treat?" + +"Yes," said Bee, and "Yes," said Rosy, though in a rather sulky tone +of voice. + +"Well, then, I should not have had to remind you both of my advice. I +am really sorry to have to find fault about anything to do with the +birthday party. I wanted it to have been nothing but pleasure to you. +But Miss Pink has told me she does not know what to do with you--that +you are so careless and inattentive, and constantly chattering about +Lady Esther's plan, and that at last she felt she must tell me." + +Bee felt her cheeks grow red. Mrs. Vincent thought she felt ashamed, +but it was not shame. Poor Bee, she had _never_ before felt as +she did just now. It was not true--how could Miss Pink have said so of +her? She knew it was not true, and the words, "I _haven't_ been +careless--I did do just what you said," were bursting out of her lips +when she stopped. What good would it do to defend herself except to +make Mrs. Vincent more vexed with Rosy, and to cause fresh bad +feelings in Rosy's heart? Would it not be better to say nothing, to +bear the blame, rather than lose the kind feelings that Rosy was +getting to have to her? All these thoughts were running through her +mind, making her feel rather puzzled and confused, for Bee did not +always see things very quickly; she needed to think them over, when, +to her surprise, Rosy looked up. + +"It isn't true," she said, not very respectfully it must be owned, "it +isn't true that Bee has been careless. If Miss Pink thinks telling +stories about Bee will make me any better, she's very silly, and I +shall just not care what she says about anything." + +"Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent sternly, "you shall care what _I_ say. +Go to your room and stay there, and you, Beata, go to yours. I am +surprised that you should encourage Rosy in her naughty contradiction, +for it is nothing else that makes her speak so of what Miss Pink felt +obliged to say of you." + +Rosy turned away with the cool sullen manner that had not been seen +for some time. Bee, choking with sobs--never, _never_, she said +to herself, not even when her mother went away, had she felt so +miserable, never had Aunt Lillias spoken to her like that before--poor +Bee rushed off to her room, and shutting the door, threw herself on +the floor and wondered _what_ she should do! + +Mrs. Vincent, if she had only known it, was nearly as unhappy as she. +It was not often she allowed herself to feel worried and vexed, as she +had felt that morning, but everything had seemed to go wrong--Miss +Pink's complaints, which were _not_ true, about Bee had really +grieved her. For Miss Pink had managed to make it seem that it was +mostly Bee's fault---and she had said little things which had made +Mrs. Vincent really unhappy about Bee being so very sweet and good +before people, but not _really_ so good when one saw more of her. + +Mrs. Vincent would not let Miss Pink see that she minded what she +said; she would hardly own it to herself. But for all that it had left +a sting. + +"_Can_ I have been mistaken in Bee?" was the thought that kept +coming into her mind. For Miss Pink had mixed up truth with untruths. + +"_Rosy,_" she had said, "whatever her faults, is so very honest," +which her mother knew to be true, but Mrs. Vincent did not--for she +was too honest herself to doubt other people--see that Miss Pink liked +better to throw the blame on Bee, not out of ill-will to Bee, but +because she was so very afraid that if there was any more trouble +about Rosy, she would have to leave off being her governess. + +Then this very morning too had brought a letter from Rosy's aunt, +proposing a visit for the very next week, accompanied, of course, by +the maid who had done Rosy so much harm! Poor Mrs. Vincent--it really +was trying--and she did not even like to tell Rosy's father how much +she dreaded his sister's visit. For Aunt Edith had meant and wished to +be so truly kind to Rosy that it seemed ungrateful not to be glad to +see her. + +Rosy and Bee were left in their rooms till some time later than the +usual school-hour, for Mrs. Vincent, wanting them to think over what +she had said, told Miss Pink to give Fixie his lessons first, and +then, before sending for the little girls to come down, she had a talk +with Miss Pink. + +"I have spoken to both Rosy and Bee very seriously, and told them of +your complaints," she said. + +Miss Pink grew rather red and looked uncomfortable. + +"I should be sorry for them to think I complained out of any +unkindness," she said. + +"It is not unkindness. It is only telling the truth to answer me when +I ask how they have been getting on," said Mrs. Vincent, rather +coldly. "Besides I myself saw how very badly Rosy's exercises were +written. I am very disappointed about Beata," she added, looking Miss +Pink straight in the face, and it seemed to her that the little +governess grew again red. "I can only hope they will both do better +now." + +Then Rosy and Bee were sent for. Rosy came in with a hard look on her +face. Bee's eyes were swollen with crying, and she seemed as if she +dared not look at her aunt, but she said nothing. Mrs. Vincent +repeated to them what she had just said about hoping they would do +better. + +"I will do my best," said Beata tremblingly, for she felt as if +another word would make her burst out crying again. + +"Oh, I am sure they are both going to be very good little girls now," +said Miss Pink, in her silly, fussy way, as if she was in a hurry to +change the subject, which indeed she was. + +Bee raised her poor red eyes, and looked at her quietly, and Mrs. +Vincent saw the look. Rosy, who had not yet spoken, muttered +something, but so low that nobody could quite hear it; only the words +"stories" and "not true" were heard. + +"Rosy," said her mother very severely, "be silent!" and soon after she +left the room. + +The schoolroom party was not a very cheerful one this morning, but +things went on quietly. Miss Pink was plainly uncomfortable, and made +several attempts to make friends, as it were, with Bee. Bee answered +gently, but that was all, and as soon as lessons were over she went +quietly upstairs. + +Two days after, Miss Vincent arrived. Rosy was delighted to hear she +was coming, and her pleasure in it seemed to make her forget about +Bee's undeserved troubles. So poor Bee had to try to forget them +herself. Her lessons were learnt and written without a fault--it was +impossible for Miss Pink to find anything to blame; and indeed she did +not wish to do so, or to be unkind, to Beata, so long as things went +smoothly with Rosy. And for these two days everything was very smooth. +Rosy did not want to be in disgrace when her aunt came, and she, too, +did her best, so that the morning of the day when Miss Vincent was +expected, Miss Pink told the children, with a most amiable face, that +she would be able to give a very good report of them to Rosy's mother. + +Bee said nothing. Rosy, turning round, saw the strange, half-sad look +on Bee's face, and it came back into her mind how unhappy her little +friend had been, and how little she had deserved to be so. And in her +heart, too, Rosy knew that in reality it was owing to _her_ that +Beata had suffered, and a sudden feeling of sorrow rushed over her, +and, to Miss Pink's and Bee's astonishment, she burst out, + +"You may say what you like of me to mamma, Miss Pink. It is true I +have done my lessons well for two days, and it is true I did them +badly before. But if you can't tell the truth about Bee, it would be +much better for you to say nothing at all." + +Miss Pink grew pinker than usual, and she was opening her lips to +speak, when Beata interrupted her. + +"Don't say anything, Miss Pink," she said. "It's no good. _I_ +have said nothing, and--and I'll try to forget--you know what. I don't +want there to be any more trouble. It doesn't matter for me. O Rosy +dear," she went on entreatingly, "_don't_ say anything more that +might make more trouble, and vex your mamma with you, just as your +aunt's coming. Oh, _don't_." + +She put her arms round Rosy as if she would have held her back, Rosy +only looking half convinced. But in her heart Rosy _was_ very +anxious not to be in any trouble when her aunt came. She didn't quite +explain to herself why. Some of the reasons were good, and some were +not very good. One of the best was, I think, that she didn't want her +mother to be more vexed, or to have the fresh vexation of her aunt +seeming to think--as she very likely would, if there was any excuse +for it--that Rosy was less good under her mother's care than she had +been in Miss Vincent's. + +Rosy was learning truly to love, and what, for her nature, was almost +of more consequence, really to _trust_ her mother, and a feeling +of _loyalty_--if you know what that beautiful word means, dear +children,--I hope you do--was beginning for the first time to grow in +her cross-grained, suspicious little heart. Then, again, for her own +sake, Rosy wished all to be smooth when her aunt and Nelson arrived, +which was not a _bad_ feeling, if not a very good or unselfish +one. And then, again, she did not want to have any trouble connected +with Bee. She knew her Aunt Edith had not liked the idea of Bee +coming, and that if she fancied the little stranger was the cause of +any worry to her darling she would try to get her sent away. And Rosy +did not now _at all_ want Bee to be sent away! + +These different feelings were all making themselves heard rather +confusedly in her heart, and she hardly knew what to answer to Bee's +appeal, when Miss Pink came to the rescue. + +"Bee is right, Rosy," she said, her rather dolly-looking face flushing +again. "It is much better to leave things. You may trust me to--to +speak very kindly of--of you _both_. And if I was--at all +mistaken in what I said of you the other day, Bee--perhaps you had +been trying more than I--than I gave you credit for--I'm very sorry. +If I can say anything to put it right, I will. But it is very +difficult to--to tell things quite correctly sometimes. I had been +worried and vexed, and then Mrs. Vincent rather startled me by asking +me about you, Rosy, and by something she said about my not managing +you well. And--oh, I don't know _what_ we would do, my mother and +I, if I lost this nice situation!" she burst out suddenly, forgetting +everything else in her distress. "And poor mamma has been _so_ +ill lately, I've often scarcely slept all night. I daresay I've been +cross sometimes"--and Miss Pink finished up by bursting into tears. +Her distress gave the finishing touch to Bee's determination to bear +the undeserved blame. + +"No, poor Miss Pink," she said, running round to the little +governess's side of the table, "I _don't_ think you are cross. I +shouldn't mind if you were a little sometimes. And I know we are often +troublesome--aren't we, Rosy?" Rosy gave a little grunt, which was a +good deal for her, and showed that her feelings, too, were touched. +"But just then I _had_ been trying. Aunt Lillias had spoken to us +about it, and I _did_ want to please her"--and the unbidden tears +rose to Bee's eyes. "Please, Miss Pink, don't think I don't know when +I _am_ to blame, but--but you won't speak that way of me another +time when I've not been to blame." A sort of smothered sob here came +from Miss Pink, as a match to Rosy's grunt. "And _please_," Bee +went on, "don't say _anything_ more about that time to Aunt +Lillias. It's done now, and it would only make fresh trouble." + +That it would make trouble for _her_, Miss Pink felt convinced, +and she was not very difficult to persuade to take Bee's advice. + +"It would indeed bring _me_ trouble," she thought, as she walked +home more slowly than usual that the fresh air might take away the +redness from her eyes before her mother saw her. "I know Mrs. Vincent +would never forgive me if she thought I had exaggerated or +misrepresented. I'm sure I didn't want to blame Bee; but I was so +startled; and Mrs. Vincent seemed to think so much less of it when I +let her suppose they had _both_ been careless and tiresome. But +it has been a lesson to me. And Beata is _very_ good. I could +never say a word against her again." + +Miss Vincent arrived, and with her, of course, her maid Nelson. +Everything went off most pleasantly the first evening. Aunt Edith +seemed delighted to see Rosy again, and that was only kind and +natural. And she said to every one how well Rosy was looking, and how +much she was grown, and said, too, how nice it was for her to have a +companion of her own age. She had been so pleased to hear about little +Miss Warwick from Cecy Furnivale, whom she had seen lately. + +Bee stared rather at this. She hardly knew herself under the name of +little Miss Warwick; but she answered Miss Vincent's questions in her +usual simple way, and told Rosy, when they went up to bed, that she +did not wonder she loved her aunt--she seemed so very kind. + +"Yes," said Rosy. Then she sat still for a minute or two, as if she +was thinking over something very deeply. "I don't think I'd like to go +back to live with auntie," she said at last. + +"To leave your mother! No, _of course_ you wouldn't," exclaimed +Bee, as if there could be no doubt about the matter. + +"But I did think once I would," said Rosy, nodding her head--"I did." + +"I don't believe you really did," said Bee calmly. "Perhaps you +_thought_ you did when you were vexed about something." + +"Well, I don't see much difference between wanting a thing, and +_thinking_ you want it," said Rosy. + +This was one of the speeches which Bee did not find it very easy to +answer all at once, so she told Rosy she would think it over in her +dreams, for she was very sleepy, and she was sure Aunt Lillias would +be vexed if they didn't go to bed quickly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR. + + + "And the former called the latter 'little Prig.'"--EMERSON. + +"And how well that sweet child is looking, Nelson," said Miss Vincent +that evening to her maid as she was brushing her hair. + +"I am glad you think so, ma'am," replied Nelson, in a rather queer +tone of voice. + +"Why, what do you mean?" said Miss Vincent. "Do _you_ not think +so? To be sure it was by candlelight, and I am very near-sighted, but +I don't think any one could say that she looks ill. She is both taller +and stouter." + +"Perhaps so, ma'am. I wasn't thinking so much of her healthfulness. +With the care that _was_ taken of her, she couldn't but be a fine +child. But it's her _feelin's_, ma'am, that seems to be so +changed. All her spirits, her lovely high spirits, gone! Why, this +evening, that Martha--or whatever they call her--a' upsetting thing +_I_ call her--spoke to her that short about having left the +nursery door open because Master Fixie chose to fancy he was cold, +that I wonder any young lady would take it. And Miss Rosy, bless her, +up she got and shut it as meek as meek, and 'I'm very sorry, Martha--I +forgot,' she said. I couldn't believe my ears. I could have cried to +see her so kept down like. And she's so quiet and so grave." + +"She is certainly quieter than she used to be," said Miss Vincent, +"but surely she can't be unhappy. She would have told me--and I +thought it was so nice for her to have that little companion." + +"Umph," said Nelson. She had a way of her own of saying "umph" that it +is impossible to describe. Then in a minute or two she went on again. +"Well, ma'am, you know I'm one as must speak my mind. And the truth is +I _don't_ like that Miss Bee, as they call her, at all. She's far +too good, by way of being too good, I mean, for a child. Give me Miss +Rosy's tempers and fidgets--I'd rather have them than those +smooth-faced ways. And she's come round Miss Rosy somehow. Why, ma'am, +you'd hardly believe it, she'd hardly a word for me when she first saw +me. It was 'Good-evening, Nelson. How do you do?' as cool like as +could be. And it was all that Miss Bee's doing. I saw Miss Rosy look +round at her like to see what she thought of it." + +"Well, well, Nelson," said Miss Vincent, quite vexed and put out, "I +don't see what is to be done. We can't take the child away from her +own parents. All the same, I'm very glad to have come to see for +myself, and if I find out anything not nice about that child, I shall +stand upon no ceremony, I assure you," and with this Nelson had to be +content. + +It was true that Rosy had met Nelson very coldly. As I have told you +before, Rosy was by no means clever at _pretending_, and a very +good thing it is _not_ to be so. She had come to take a dislike +to Nelson, and to wonder how she could ever have been so under her. +Especially now that she was learning to love and trust Beata, she did +not like to let her know how many wrong and jealous ideas Nelson had +put in her head, and so before Beata she was very cold to the maid. +But in this Rosy was wrong. Nelson had taught her much that had done +her harm, but still she had been, or had meant to be, very good and +kind to Rosy, and Rosy owed her for this real gratitude. It was a +pity, too, for Bee's sake that Rosy had been so cold and stiff to +Nelson, for on Bee, Nelson laid all the blame of it, and the harm did +not stop here, as you will see. + +Miss Vincent never got up early, and the next morning passed as usual. +But she sent for Rosy to come to her room while she was dressing, +after the morning lessons were over, which prevented the two little +girls having their usual hour's play in the garden, and Beata wandered +about rather sadly, feeling as if Rosy was being taken away from her. +At luncheon Rosy came in holding her aunt's hand and looking very +pleased. + +"You don't know what lovely things auntie's been giving me," she said +to Bee as she passed her. "And Nelson's making me such a +_beautiful_ apron--the newest fashion." + +Nelson had managed to get into Rosy's favour again--that was clear. +Beata did not think this to herself. She was too simple and +kind-hearted to think anything except that it was natural for Rosy to +be glad to see her old nurse again, though Bee had a feeling somehow +that she didn't much care for Nelson and that Nelson didn't care for +her! + +"By-the-bye, Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent, in the middle of luncheon, "did +you show your aunt your Venetian beads?" + +"Yes," said Miss Vincent, answering for Rosy, "she did, and great +beauties they are." + +"_Nelson_ didn't think so--at least not at first," said Rosy, +rather spitefully. She had always had a good deal of spite at Nelson, +even long ago, when Nelson had had so much power of her. "Nelson said +they were glass trash, till auntie explained to her." + +"She didn't understand what they were," said Miss Vincent, seeming a +little annoyed. "She thinks them beautiful now." + +"Yes _now_, because she knows they must have cost a lot of +money," persisted Rosy. "Nelson never thinks anything pretty that +doesn't cost a lot." + +These remarks were not pleasant to Miss Vincent. She knew that Mrs. +Vincent thought Nelson too free in her way of speaking, and she did +not like any of her rather impertinent sayings to be told over. + +"Certainly," she thought to herself, "I think it is quite a mistake +that Rosy is too much kept down," but just as she was thinking this, +Rosy's mother looked up and said to her quietly, "Rosy, I don't think +you should talk so much. And you, Bee, are almost too silent!" she +added, smiling at Beata, for she had a feeling that since Miss +Vincent's arrival Bee looked rather lonely. + +"Yes," said Rosy's aunt, "we don't hear your voice at all, Miss Beata. +You're not like my chatter-box Rosy, who always must say out what she +thinks." + +The words sounded like a joke--there was nothing in them to vex Bee, +but something in the tone in which they were said made the little girl +grow red and hot. + +"I--I was listening to all of you," she said quietly. She was anxious +to say something, not to seem to Mrs. Vincent as if she was cross or +vexed. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother. "Rosy and her aunt have a great deal to say +to each other after being so long without meeting," and Miss Vincent +looked pleased at this, as Rosy's mother meant her to be. + +"By-the-bye," continued Mrs. Vincent, "has Rosy told you all about the +fête there is going to be at Summerlands?" Summerlands was the name of +Lady Esther's house. + +"Oh yes," said Miss Vincent, "and very charming it will be, no doubt, +only _I_ should have liked my pet to be the queen, as she tells +me was at first proposed." + +This was what Mrs. Vincent thought one of Aunt Edith's silly speeches, +and Rosy could not help wishing when she heard it that she had not +told her aunt that her being the queen had been thought of at all. She +looked a little uncomfortable, and her mother, glancing at her, +understood her feelings and felt sorry for her. + +"I think it is better as it is," she said. "Would you like to hear +about the dresses Rosy and Bee are to wear?" she went on. "I think +they will be very pretty. Lady Esther has ordered them in London with +her own little girls'." And then she told Miss Vincent all about the +dresses, so that Rosy's uncomfortable feeling went away, and she felt +grateful to her mother. + +After luncheon the little girls went out together in the garden. + +"I'm so glad to be together again," said Bee, "it seems to me as if I +had hardly seen you to-day, Rosy." + +"What nonsense!" said Rosy. "Why, I was only in auntie's room for +about a quarter of an hour after Miss Pink went." + +"A quarter of an hour," said Bee. "No indeed, Rosy. You were more than +an hour, I am sure. I was reading to Fixie in the nursery, for he's +got a cold and he mayn't go out, and you don't know what a great lot I +read. And oh, Rosy, Fixie wants so to know if he may have your beads +this afternoon, just to hold in his hand and look at. He can't hurt +them." + +"Very well," said Rosy. "He may have them for half an hour or so, but +not longer." + +"Shall I go and give them to him now?" said Bee, ready to run off. + +"Oh no, he won't need them just yet. Let's have a run first. Let's see +which of us will get to the middle bush first--you go right and I'll +go left." + +This race round the lawn was a favourite one with the children. They +were playing merrily, laughing and calling to each other, when a +messenger was seen coming to them from the house. It was Samuel the +footman. + +"Miss Rosy," he said as he came within hearing, "you must please to +come in _at onst_. Miss Vincent is going a drive and you are to +go with her." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Rosy, "I don't think I want to go." + +"I think you must," said Bee, though she could not help sighing a +little. + +"Miss Vincent is going to Summerlands," said Samuel. + +"Oh, then I _do_ want to go," said Rosy. "Never mind, Bee--I wish +you were going too. But I'll tell you all I hear about the party when +I come' back. But I'm sorry you're not going." + +She kissed Bee as she ran off. This was a good deal more than Rosy +would have done some weeks ago, and Bee, feeling this, tried to be +content. But the garden seemed dull and lonely after Rosy had gone, +and once or twice the tears would come into Bee's eyes. + +"After all," she said to herself, "those little girls are much the +happiest who can always live with their own mammas and have sisters +and brothers of their own, and then there can't be strange aunts who +are not their aunts." But then she thought to herself how much better +it was for her than for many little girls whose mothers had to be away +and who were sent to school, where they had no such kind friend as +Mrs. Vincent. + +"I'll go in and read to Fixie," she then decided, and she made her way +to the house. + +Passing along the passage by the door of Rosy's room, it came into her +mind that she might as well get the beads for Fixie which Rosy had +given leave for. She went in--the room was rather in confusion, for +Rosy had been dressing in a hurry for her drive--but Bee knew where +the beads were kept, and, opening the drawer, she found them easily. +She was going away with them in her hand when a sharp voice startled +her. It was Nelson. Bee had not noticed that she was in a corner of +the room hanging up some of Rosy's things, for, much to Martha's +vexation, Nelson was very fond of coming into Rosy's room and helping +her to dress. + +"What are you doing in Miss Rosy's drawers?" said Nelson; and Bee, +from surprise at her tone and manner, felt herself get red, and her +voice trembled a little as she answered. + +"I was getting something for Master Fixie--something for him to play +with." And she held up the necklace. + +Nelson looked at her still in a way that was not at all nice. "And who +said you might?" she said next. + +"Rosy--_of course_, Miss Rosy herself," said Bee, opening her +eyes, "I would not take anything of hers without her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of grunt. But she had an ill-will at the pretty +beads, because she had called them rubbish, not knowing what they +were; so she said nothing more, and Bee went quietly away, not hearing +the words Nelson muttered to herself, "Sly little thing. I don't like +those quiet ways." + +When Bee got to the nursery, she was very glad she had come. Fixie was +sitting in a corner looking very desolate, for Martha was busy looking +over the linen, as it was Saturday, and his head was "a'ting +dedfully," he said. He brightened up when he saw Bee and what she had +brought, and for more than an hour the two children sat perfectly +happy and content examining the wonderful beads, and making up little +fanciful stories about the fairies who were supposed to live in them. +Then when Fixie seemed to have had enough of the beads, Bee and he +took them back to Rosy's room and put them carefully away, and then +returned to the nursery, where they set to work to make a house with +the chairs and Fixie's little table. The nursery was not carpeted all +over--that is to say, round the edge of the room the wood of the floor +was left bare, for this made it more easy to lift the carpet often and +shake it on the grass, which is a very good thing, especially in a +nursery. The house was an old one, and so the wood floor was not very +pretty; here and there it was rather uneven, and there were queer +cracks in it. + +"See, Bee," said Fixie, while they were making their house, "see what +a funny place I've found in the f'oor," and he pointed to a small, +dark, round hole. It was made by what is called a knot in the wood +having dried up and dropped out long, long ago probably, for, as I +told you, the house was very old. + +"What is there down there, does you fink?" said Fixie, looking up at +Bee and then down again at the mysterious hole. "Does it go down into +the middle of the world, p'raps?" + +Beata laughed. + +"Oh no, Fixie, not so far as that, I am sure," she said. "At the most, +it can't go farther than the ceiling of the room underneath." + +Fixie looked puzzled, and Bee explained to him that there was a small +space left behind the wood planking which make the floor of one room +and the thinner boards which are the ceiling of an under room. + +[Illustration: 'WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?' SAID FIXIE] + +"The ceiling doesn't need to be so strong, you see," she said. "We +don't walk and jump on the ceiling, but we do on the floor, so the +ceiling boards would not be strong enough for the floor." + +"Yes," said Fixie, "on'y the flies walks on the ceiling, and they's +not very heavy, is they, Bee? But," he went on, "I would like to see +down into this hole. If I had a long piece of 'ting I could +_fish_ down into it, couldn't I, Bee? You don't fink there's +anything dedful down there, do you? Not fogs or 'nakes?" + +"No," said Bee, "I'm sure there are no frogs or snakes. There +_might_ be some little mice." + +"Is mice the same as mouses?" said Fixie; and when Bee nodded, "Why +don't you say mouses then?" he asked, "it's a much samer word." + +"But I didn't make the words," said Bee, "one has to use them the way +that's counted right." + +But Fixie seemed rather grumbly and cross. + +"_I_ like mouses," he persisted; and so, to change his ideas, Bee +went on talking about the knot hole. "We might get a stick to-morrow," +she said, "and poke it down to see how far it would go." + +"Not a 'tick," said Fixie, "it would hurt the little mouses. I didn't +say a 'tick--I said a piece of 'ting. I fink you'se welly unkind, Bee, +to hurt the poor little mouses," and he grew so very doleful about it +that Bee was quite glad when Martha called them to tea. + +"I don't know what's the matter with Fixie," she said to Martha, in a +low voice. + +"He's not very well," said Martha, looking at her little boy +anxiously. But tea seemed to do Fixie good, and he grew brighter +again, so that Martha began to think there could not be much wrong. + +Nursery tea was long over before Rosy came home, and so she stayed +down in the drawing-room to have some with her mother and aunt. And +even after that she did not come back to the other children, but went +into her aunt's room to look over some things they had bought in the +little town they had passed, coming home. She just put her head in at +the nursery door, seeming in very high spirits, and called out to Bee +that she would tell her how nice it had been at Summerlands. + +But the evening went on. Fixie grew tired and cross, and Martha put +him to bed; and it was not till nearly the big people's dinner-time +that Rosy came back to the nursery, swinging her hat on her arm, and +looking rather untidy and tired too. "I think I'll go to bed," she +said. "It makes me feel funny in my head, driving so far." + +"Let me put away your hat, Miss Rosy," said Martha, "it's getting all +crushed and it's your best one." + +"Oh, bother," said Rosy, and the tone was like the Rosy of some months +ago. "What does it matter? _You_ won't have to pay for a new +one." + +Martha said nothing, but quietly put away the hat, which had fallen on +the floor. Bee, too, said nothing, but her heart was full. She had +been alone, except for poor little Fixie, all the afternoon; and the +last hour or so she had been patiently waiting for Rosy to come to the +nursery to tell her, as she had promised, all her adventures. + +"I'm going to bed," repeated Rosy. + +"Won't you stay and talk a little?" said Bee; "you said you would tell +me about Summerlands." + +"I'm too tired," said Rosy. Then suddenly she added, sharply, "What +were you doing in my drawers this afternoon?" + +"In your drawers?" repeated Bee, half stupidly, as it were. She was +not, as I have told you, very quick in catching up a meaning; she was +thoughtful and clear-headed but rather slow, and when any one spoke +sharply it made her still slower. "In your drawers, Rosy?" she said +again, for, for a moment, she forgot about having fetched the +necklace. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "you were in my drawers, for Nelson told me. She +said I wasn't to tell you she'd told me, but I told her I would. I +don't like mean ways. But I'd just like to know what you were doing +among my things." + +It all came back to Bee now. + +"I only went to fetch the beads for Fixie," she said, her voice +trembling. "You said I might." + +"And did you put them back again? And did you not touch anything +else?" Rosy went on. + +"Of course I put them back, and--_of course_ I didn't touch +anything else," exclaimed Bee. "Rosy, how can you, how dare you speak +to me like that? As if I would steal your things. You have no +_right_ to speak that way, and Nelson is a bad, horrible woman. I +will tell your mother all about it to-morrow morning." + +And bursting into tears, Beata ran out of the nursery to take refuge +in her own room. Nor would she come out or speak to Rosy when she +knocked at the door and begged her to do so. But she let Martha in to +help her to undress, and listened gently to the good nurse's advice +not to take Miss Rosy's unkindness to heart. + +"She's sorry for it already," said Martha. "And, though perhaps I +shouldn't say it, you can see for yourself, Miss Bee dear, that it's +not herself, as one may say." And Martha gave a sigh. "I'm sorry for +Miss Rosy's mamma," she added, as she bid Bee good-night. And the +words went home to Bee's loving, grateful little heart. It was very +seldom, very seldom indeed, that unkind or ungentle thoughts or +feelings rested there. Never hardly in all her life had Beata given +way to anger as she had done that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +STINGS FOR BEE. + + + "And I will look up the chimney, + And into the cupboard to make quite sure." + --AUTHOR OF LILLIPUT LEVEE. + +Fixie was not quite well the next morning, as Martha had hoped he +would be. Still he did not seem ill enough to stay in bed, so she +dressed him as usual. But at breakfast he rested his head on his hand, +looking very doleful, "very sorry for himself," as Scotch people say. +And Martha, though she tried to cheer him up, was evidently anxious. + +Mother came up to see him after breakfast, and she looked less uneasy +than Martha. + +"It's only a cold, I fancy," she said, but when Martha followed her +out of the room and reminded her of all the children's illnesses Fixie +had _not_ had, and which often look like a cold at the beginning, +she agreed that it might be better to send for the doctor. + +"Have you any commissions for Blackthorpe?" she said to Miss Vincent +when she, Aunt Edith, came down to the drawing-room, a little earlier +than usual that morning. "I am going to send to ask the doctor to come +and see Fixie." + +Aunt Edith had already heard from Nelson about Felix not being well, +and that was why she had got up earlier, for she was in a great +fright. + +"I am thankful to hear it," she said; "for there is no saying what his +illness may be going to be. But, Lillias, _of course_ you won't +let darling Rosy stay in the nursery." + +"I hadn't thought about it," said Rosy's mother. "Perhaps I am a +little careless about these things, for you see all the years I was in +India I had only Fixie, and he was quite out of the way of infection. +Besides, Rosy has had measles and scarlet fever, and----" + +"But not whooping-cough, or chicken-pox, or mumps, or even smallpox. +Who knows but what it may be smallpox," said Aunt Edith, working +herself up more and more. + +Mrs. Vincent could hardly help smiling. "I _don't_ think that's +likely," she said. "However, I am glad you mentioned the risk, for I +think there is much more danger for Bee than for Rosy, for Bee, like +Fixie, has had none of these illnesses. I will go up to the nursery +and speak to Martha about it at once," and she turned towards the +door. + +"But you will separate Rosy too," insisted Miss Vincent, "the dear +child can sleep in my room. Nelson will be only too delighted to have +her again." + +"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would +be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head +again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped +Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so +much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave +Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in +the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." + +The doctor came in the afternoon, but he was not able to say much. It +would take, he said, a day or two to decide what was the matter with +the little fellow. But Fixie was put to bed, and Rosy and Bee were +told on no account to go into either of the nurseries. Fixie was not +sorry to go to bed; he had been so dull all the morning, playing by +himself in a comer of the nursery, but he cried a little when he was +told that Bee must not come and sit by him and read or tell him +stories as she always was ready to do when he was not quite well. And +Bee looked ready to cry too when she saw his distress! + +It was not a very cheerful time. The children felt unsettled by being +kept out of their usual rooms and ways. Rosy was constantly running +off to her aunt's room, or to ask Nelson about something or other, and +Bee did not like to follow her, for she had an uncomfortable feeling +that neither Nelson nor her mistress liked her to come. Nelson was in +a very gloomy humour. + +"It will be a sad pity to be sure," she said to Rosy, "if Master +Fixie's gone and got any sort of catching illness." + +"How do you mean?" said Rosy. "It won't much matter except that Bee +and I can't go into the nursery or my room. Bee's room has a door out +into the other passage, I heard mamma saying we could sleep there if +the nursery door was kept locked. I think it would be fun to sleep in +Bee's room. I shouldn't mind." + +Nelson grunted. She did not approve of Rosy's liking Beata. + +"Ah, well," she said, "it isn't only your Aunt Edith that's afraid of +infection. If it's measles that Master Fixie's got, you won't go to +Lady Esther's party, Miss Rosy." + +Rosy opened her eyes. "Not go to the party! we _must_ go," she +exclaimed, and before Nelson knew what she was about, off Rosy had +rushed to confide this new trouble to Bee, and hear what she would say +about it. Bee, too, looked grave, for her heart was greatly set on the +idea of the Summerlands fete. + +"I don't know," she replied. "I hope dear little Fixie is not going to +be very ill. Any way, Rosy, I don't think Nelson should have said +that. Your mother would have told us herself if she had wanted us to +know it." + +"Indeed," said a harsh voice behind her, "I don't require a little +chit like you, Miss Bee, to teach me my duty," and turning round, +Beata saw that Nelson was standing in the doorway, for she had +followed Rosy, a little afraid of the effect of what she had told her. +Bee felt sorry that Nelson had overheard what she had said, though +indeed there was no harm in it. + +"I did not mean to vex you, Nelson," she said, "but I'm sure it is +better to wait till Aunt Lillias tells us herself." + +Nelson looked very angry, and walked off in a huff, muttering +something the children could not catch. + +"I wish you wouldn't always quarrel with Nelson," said Rosy crossly. +"She always gets on with _me_ quite well. I shall have to go and +get her into a good humour again, for I want her to finish my apron." + +Rosy ran off, but Bee stayed alone, her eyes filled with tears. + +"It _isn't_ my fault," she said to herself. "I don't know what to +do. Nothing is the same since they came. I'll write to mother and ask +her not to leave me here any longer. I'd rather be at school or +anywhere than stay here when they're all so unkind to me now." + +But then wiser thoughts came into her mind. They weren't "all" unkind, +and she knew that Mrs. Vincent herself had troubles to bear. +Besides--what was it her mother had always said to her?--that it was +at such times that one's real wish to be good was tried; when all is +smooth and pleasant and every one kind and loving, what is easier than +to be kind and pleasant in return? It is when others are _not_ +kind, but sharp and suspicious and selfish, that one _has_ to +"try" to return good for evil, gentleness for harshness, kind thoughts +and ways for the cold looks or angry words which one cannot help +feeling sadly, but which lose half their sting when not treasured up +and exaggerated by dwelling upon them. + +And feeling happier again, Bee went back to what she was busy +at--making a little toy scrap-book for Fixie which she meant to send +in to him the next morning as if it had come by post. And she had need +of her good resolutions, for she hardly saw Rosy again all day, and +when they were going to bed Nelson came to help Rosy to undress and +went on talking to her so much all the time about people and places +Bee knew nothing about, that it was impossible for her to join in at +all. She kissed Rosy as kindly as usual when Nelson had left the room, +but it seemed to her that her kiss was very coldly returned. + +"You're not vexed with me for anything, are you, Rosy?" she could not +help saying. + +"Vexed with you? No, I never said I was vexed with you," Rosy +answered. "I wish you wouldn't go on like that, Bee, it's tiresome. I +can't be always kissing and petting you." + +And that was all the comfort poor Bee could get to go to sleep with! + +For a day or two still the doctor could not say what was wrong with +Fixie, but at last he decided that it was only a sort of feverish +attack brought on by his having somehow or other caught cold, for +there had been some damp and rainy weather, even though spring was now +fast turning into summer. + +The little fellow had been rather weak and out of sorts for some time, +and as soon as he was better, Mrs. Vincent made up her mind to send +him off with Martha for a fortnight to a sheltered seaside village not +far from their home. Beata was very sorry to see them go. She almost +wished she was going with them, for though she had done her best to be +patient and cheerful, nothing was the same as before the coming of +Rosy's aunt. Rosy scarcely seemed to care to play with her at all. Her +whole time, when not at her lessons, was spent in her aunt's room, +generally with Nelson, who was never tired of amusing her and giving +in to all her fancies. Bee grew silent and shy. She was losing her +bright happy manner, and looked as if she no longer felt sure that she +was a welcome little guest. Mrs. Vincent saw the change in her, but +did not quite understand it, and felt almost inclined to be vexed with +her. + +"She knows it is only for a short time that Rosy's aunt is here. She +might make the best of it," thought Mrs. Vincent. For she did not know +fully how lonely Bee's life now was, and how many cold or unkind words +she had to bear from Rosy, not to speak of Nelson's sharp and almost +rude manner; for, though Rosy was not cunning, Nelson was so, and she +managed to make it seem always as if Bee, and not Rosy, was in fault. + +"Where is Bee?" said Mrs. Vincent one afternoon when she went into the +nursery, where, at this time of day, Nelson was now generally to be +found. + +"I don't know, mamma," said Rosy. Then, without saying any more about +Bee, she went on eagerly, "Do look, mamma, at the lovely opera-cloak +Nelson has made for my doll? It isn't _quite_ ready--there's a +little white fluff----" + +"Swansdown, Miss Rosy, darling," said Nelson. + +"Well, swansdown then--it doesn't matter--mamma knows," said Rosy +sharply, "there's white stuff to go round the neck. Won't it be +lovely, mother?" + +She looked up with her pretty face all flushed with pleasure, for +nobody could be prettier than Rosy when she was pleased. + +"Yes dear, _very_ pretty," said her mother. It was impossible to +deny that Nelson was very kind and patient, and Mrs. Vincent would +have felt really pleased if only she had not feared that Nelson did +Rosy harm by her spoiling and flattery. "But where can Bee be?" she +said again. "Does she not care about dolls too?" + +"She used to," said Rosy. "But Bee is very fond of being alone now, +mamma. And I don't care for her when she looks so gloomy." + +"But what makes her so?" said Mrs. Vincent. "Are you quite kind to +her, Rosy?" + +"Oh indeed, yes, ma'am," interrupted Nelson, without giving Rosy time +to answer. "Of that you may be very sure. Indeed many's the time I say +to myself Miss Rosy's patience is quite wonderful. Such a free, +outspoken young lady as she is, and Miss Bee _so_ different. I +don't like them secrety sort of children, and Miss Rosy feels it +too--she--" + +"Nelson, I didn't ask for your opinion of little Miss Warwick," said +Mrs. Vincent, very coldly. "I know you are very kind to Rosy. But I +cannot have any interference when I find fault with her." + +Nelson looked very indignant, but Mrs. Vincent's manner had something +in it which prevented her answering in any rude way. + +"I'm sure I meant no offence," she said sourly, but that was all. + +Beata was alone in the schoolroom, writing, or trying to write, to her +mother. Her letters, which used to be such a pleasure, had grown +difficult. + +"Mamma said I was to write everything to her," she said to herself, +"but I _can't_ write to tell her I'm not happy. I wonder if it's +any way my fault." + +Just then the door opened and Mrs. Vincent looked in. + +"All alone, Bee," she said. "Would it not be more cheerful in the +nursery with Rosy? You have no lessons to do now? + +"No" said Bee, "I was beginning a letter to mamma. But it isn't to go +just yet." + +"Well, dear, go and play with Rosy. I don't like to see you moping +alone. You must be my bright little Bee--you wouldn't like any one to +think you are not happy with us?" + +"Oh no," said Bee. But there was little brightness in her tone, and +Mrs. Vincent felt half provoked with her. + +"She has not really anything to complain of," + +she said to herself, "and she cannot expect me to speak to her against +Aunt Edith and Nelson. She should make the best of it for the time." + +As Bee was leaving the schoolroom Mrs. Vincent called her back. + +"Will you tell Rosy to bring me her Venetian necklace to the +drawing-room?" she said; "I want it for a few minutes." She did not +tell Beata why she wanted it. It was because she had had a letter that +morning from Mr. Furnivale asking her to tell him how many beads there +were on Rosy's necklace and their size, as he had found a shop where +there were two or three for sale, and he wanted to get one as nearly +as possible the same for Beata. + +Beata went slowly to the nursery. She would much rather have stayed in +the schoolroom, lonely and dull though it was. When she got to the +nursery she gave Rosy her mother's message, and asked her kindly if +she might bring her dolls so that they could play with them together. + +"I shan't get no work done," said Nelson crossly, "if there's going to +be such a litter about." + +"I'm going to take my necklace to mamma," said Rosy. "You may play +with my doll till I come back, Bee." + +She ran off, and Bee sat down quietly as far away from Nelson as she +could. Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door suddenly opened +and Rosy burst in with a very red face. + +"Bee, Nelson," she exclaimed, "my necklace is _gone_. It is +indeed. I've hunted _everywhere_. And somebody must have taken +it, for I always put it in the same place, in its own little box. You +know I do--don't I, Bee?" + +Bee seemed hardly able to answer. Her face looked quite pale with +distress. + +"Your necklace gone, Rosy," she repeated. Nelson said nothing. + +"Yes, _gone,_ I tell you," said Rosy. "And I believe it's stolen. +It couldn't go of itself, and I _never_ left it about. I haven't +had it on for a good while. You know that time I slept in your room, +Bee, while Fixie was ill, I got out of the way of wearing it. But I +always knew where it was, in its own little box in the far-back corner +of the drawer where I keep my best ribbons and jewelry." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I know. It was there the day I had it out to amuse +Fixie." + +Rosy turned sharply upon her. + +"Did you put it back that day, Bee?" she said, "I don't believe I've +looked at it since. Answer, _did_ you put it back?" + +"Yes," said Bee earnestly, "yes, indeed; _indeed_ I did. O Rosy, +don't get like that," she entreated, clasping her hands, for Rosy's +face was growing redder and redder, and her eyes were flashing. "O +Rosy, _don't_ get into a temper with me about it. I did, _did_ +put it back." + +But it is doubtful if Rosy would have listened to her. She was fast +working herself up to believe that Bee had lost the necklace the day +she had had it out for Pixie, and she was so distressed at the loss +that she was quite ready to get into a temper with _somebody_--when, +to both the children's surprise, Nelson's voice interrupted +what Rosy was going to say. + +"Miss Warwick," she said, with rather a mocking tone--she had made a +point of calling Bee "Miss Warwick" since the day Mrs. Vincent had +spoken of the little girl by that name--"Miss Warwick did put it back +that day, Miss Rosy dear," she said. "For I saw it late that evening +when I was putting your things away to help Martha as Master Fixie was +ill." She did not explain that she had made a point of looking for the +necklace in hopes of finding Bee had _not_ put it back, for you +may remember she had been cross and rude to Bee about finding her in +Rosy's room. + +"Well, then, where has it gone? Come with me, Bee, and look for it," +said Rosy, rather softening down,--"though I'm _sure_ I've looked +everywhere." + +"I don't think it's any use your taking Miss Warwick to look for it," +said Nelson, getting up and laying aside her work. "I'll go with you, +Miss Rosy, and if it's in your room I'll undertake to find it. And +just you stay quietly here, Miss Bee. Too many cooks spoil the broth." + +So Bee was left alone again, alone, and even more unhappy than before, +for she was _very_ sorry about Rosy's necklace, and besides, she +had a miserable feeling that if it was never found she would somehow +be blamed for its loss. A quarter of an hour passed, then half an +hour, what could Rosy and Nelson be doing all this time? The door +opened and Bee sprang up. + +"Have you found it, Rosy?" she cried eagerly. + +But it was not Rosy, though she was following behind. The first person +that came in was Mrs. Vincent. She looked grave and troubled. + +"Beata," she said, "you have heard about Rosy's necklace. Tell me all +about the last time you saw it." + +"It was when Rosy let Fixie have it to play with," began Bee, and she +told all she remembered. + +"And you are sure--_quite_ sure--you never have seen it since?" + +"_Quite_ sure," said Bee. "I never touch Rosy's things without +her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of cough. Bee turned round on her. "If you've +anything to say you'd better say it now, before Mrs. Vincent," said +Bee, in a tone that, coming from the gentle kindly little girl, +surprised every one. + +"Bee!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, "What do you mean? Nelson has said +_nothing_ about you." This was quite true. Nelson was too clever +to say anything right out. She had only hinted and looked wise about +the necklace to Rosy, giving her a feeling that Bee was more likely to +have touched it than any one else. + +Bee was going to speak, but Rosy's mother stopped her. "You have told +us all you know," she said. "I don't want to hear any more. But I am +surprised at you, Bee, for losing your temper about being simply asked +if you had seen the necklace. You might have forgotten at first if you +had had it again for Fixie, and you _might_ the second time have +forgotten to put it back. But there is nothing to be offended at, in +being asked about it." + +She spoke coldly, and Bee's heart swelled more and more, but she dared +not speak. + +"There is nothing to do," said Mrs. Vincent, "that I can see, except +to find out if Fixie could have taken it. I will write to Martha at +once and tell her to ask him, and to let us know by return of post." + +The letter was written and sent. No one waited for the answer more +anxiously than Beata. It came by return of post, as Mrs. Vincent had +said. But it brought only disappointment. "Master Fixie," Martha +wrote, "knew nothing of Miss Rosy's necklace." He could not remember +having had it to play with at all, and he seemed to get so worried +when she kept on asking about it, that Martha thought it better to say +no more, for it was plain he had nothing to tell. + +"It is very strange he cannot remember playing with it that +afternoon," said Mrs. Vincent. "He generally has such a good memory. +You are sure you _did_ give it to him to play with, Bee?" + +"We played with it together. I told him stories about each bead," the +little girl replied. And her voice trembled as if she were going to +burst into tears. + +"Then his illness since must have made him forget it," said Mrs. +Vincent. But that was all she said. She did not call Bee to her and +tell her not to feel unhappy about it--that she knew she could trust +every word she said, as she once would have done. But she did give +very strict orders that nothing more was to be said about the +necklace, for though Nelson had not dared to hint anything unkind +about Bee to Mrs. Vincent herself, yet Rosy's mother felt sure that +Nelson blamed Bee for the loss, and wished others to do so, and she +was afraid of what might be said in the nursery if the subject was +still spoken about. + +So nothing unkind was actually said to Beata, but Rosy's cold manner +and careless looks were hard to bear. + +And the days were drawing near for the long looked forward to fete at +Summerlands. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT. + + + "She ran with wild speed, she rushed in at the door, + She gazed in her terror around." + --SOUTHEY. + +But Beata could not look forward to it now. The pleasure seemed to +have gone out of everything. + +"Nobody loves me now, and nobody trusts me," she said sadly to +herself. "And I don't know why it is. I can't think of anything I have +done to change them all." + +Her letter to her mother was already written and sent before the +answer came from Martha. Bee had hurried it a little at the end +because she wanted to have an excuse to herself for not telling her +mother how unhappy she was about the loss of the necklace. + +"If an answer comes from Martha that Fixie had taken it away or put it +somewhere, it will be all right again and I shall be quite happy, and +then it would have been a pity to write unhappily to poor mother, so +far away," she said to herself. And when Martha's letter came and all +was not right again, she felt glad that she could not write for +another fortnight, and that perhaps by that time she would know better +what to say, or that "somehow" things would have grown happier again. +For she had promised, "faithfully" promised her mother to tell her +truly all that happened, and that if by any chance she was unhappy +about anything that she could not speak easily about to Mrs. +Vincent,--though Bee's mother had little thought such a thing +likely,--she would still write all about it to her own mother. + +But a week had already passed since that letter was sent. It was +growing time to begin to think about another. And no "somehow" had +come to put things right again. Bee sat at the schoolroom window one +day after Miss Pink had left, looking out on to the garden, where the +borders were bright with the early summer flowers, and everything +seemed sunny and happy. + +"I wish I was happy too," thought Bee. And she gently stroked +Manchon's soft coat, and wondered why the birds outside and the cat +inside seemed to have all they wanted, when a little girl like her +felt so sad and lonely. Manchon had grown fond of Bee. She was gentle +and quiet, and that was what he liked, for he was no longer so young +as he had been. And Rosy's pullings and pushings, when she was not in +a good humour and fancied he was in her way, tried his nerves very +much. + +"Manchon," said Bee softly, "you look very wise. Why can't you tell me +where Rosy's necklace is?" + +Manchon blinked his eyes and purred. But, alas, that was all he could +do. + +Just then the door opened and Rosy came in. She was dressed for going +out. She had her best hat and dress on, and she looked very well +pleased with herself. + +"I'm going out a drive with auntie," she said. "And mamma says you're +to be ready to go a walk with her in half an hour." + +She was leaving the room, when a sudden feeling made Bee call her +back. + +"Rosy," she said, "do stay a minute. Rosy, I am so unhappy. I've been +thinking if I can't write a letter to ask mother to take me away from +here. I would, only it would make her so unhappy." + +Rosy looked a little startled. + +"Why would you do that?" she said. "I'm sure I've not done anything to +you." + +"But you don't love me any more," said Bee. "You began to leave off +loving me when your aunt and Nelson came,--I know you did,--and then +since the necklace was lost it's been worse. What can I do, Rosy, what +can I say?" + +"You might own that you've lost it--at least that you forgot to put it +back," said Rosy. + +"But I _did_ put it back. Even Nelson says that," said Bee. "I +can't say I didn't when I know I did," she added piteously. + +"But Nelson thinks you took it another time, and forgot to put it +back. And I think so too," said Rosy. To do her justice, she never, +like Nelson, thought that Bee had taken the necklace on purpose. She +did not even understand that Nelson thought so. + +"Rosy," said Bee very earnestly, "I did _not_ take it another +time. I have never seen it since that afternoon when Fixie had had it +and I put it back. Rosy, _don't_ you believe me?" + +Rosy gave herself an impatient shake. + +"I don't know," she said. "You might have forgotten. Anyway it was you +that had it last, and I wish I'd never given you leave to have it; I'm +sure it wouldn't have been lost." + +Bee turned away and burst into tears. + +"I _will_ write to mamma and ask her to take me away," she said. + +Again Rosy looked startled. + +"If you do that," she said, "it will be very unkind to _my_ +mamma. Yours will think we have all been unkind to you, and then +she'll write letters to my mamma that will vex her very much. And I'm +sure _mamma's_ never been unkind to you. I don't mind if you say +_I'm_ unkind; perhaps I am, because I'm very vexed about my +necklace. I shall get naughty now it's lost--I know I shall," and so +saying, Rosy ran off. + +Bee left off crying. It was true what Rosy had said. It _would_ +make Mrs. Vincent unhappy and cause great trouble if she asked her +mother to take her away. A new and braver spirit woke in the little +girl. + +"I won't be unhappy any more," she resolved. "I know I didn't touch +the necklace, and so I needn't be unhappy. And then I needn't write +anything to trouble mother, for if I get happy again it will be all +right." + +Her eyes were still rather red, but her face was brighter than it had +been for some time when she came into the drawing-room, ready dressed +for her walk. + +"Is that you, Bee dear?" said Mrs. Vincent kindly. She too was ready +dressed, but she was just finishing the address on a letter. "Why, you +are looking quite bright again, my child!" she went on when she looked +up at the little figure waiting patiently beside her. + +"I'm very glad to go out with you," said Bee simply. + +"And I'm very glad to have you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"Aunt Lillias," said Bee, her voice trembling a little, "may I ask you +one thing? _You_ don't think I touched Rosy's necklace?" + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"_Certainly_ not, dear," she said. "I did at first think you +might have forgotten to put it back that day. But after your telling +me so distinctly that you _had_ put it back, I felt quite +satisfied that you had done so." + +"But," said Bee, and then she hesitated. + +"But what?" said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. + +"I don't think--I _didn't_ think," Bee went on, gaining courage, +"that you had been quite the same to me since then." + +"And you have been fancying all kinds of reasons for it, I suppose!" +said Mrs. Vincent. "Well, Bee, the only thing I have been not quite +pleased with you for _has_ been your looking so unhappy. I was +surprised at your seeming so hurt and vexed at my asking you about the +necklace, and since then you have looked so miserable that I had begun +seriously to think it might be better for you not to stay with us. If +Rosy or any one else has disobeyed me, and gone on talking about the +necklace, it is very wrong, but even then I wonder at your allowing +foolish words to make you so unhappy. _Has_ any one spoken so as +to hurt you?" + +"No," said Bee, "not exactly, but--" + +"But you have seen that there were unkind thoughts about you. Well, I +am very sorry for it, but at present I can do no more. You are old +enough and sensible enough to see that several things have not been as +I like or wish lately. But it is often so in this world. I was very +sorry for Martha to have to go away, but it could not be helped, Now, +Bee, think it over. Would you rather go away, for a time any way, or +will you bravely determine not to mind what you know you don't +deserve, knowing that _I_ trust you fully?" + +"Yes," said Bee at once, "I will not mind it any more. And Rosy +perhaps," here her voice faltered, "Rosy perhaps will like me better +if I don't seem so dull." + +Mrs. Vincent looked grave when Bee spoke of Rosy, so grave that Bee +almost wished she had not said it. + +"It is very hard," she heard Rosy's mother say, as if speaking to +herself, "just when I thought I had gained a better influence over +her. _Very_ hard." + +Bee threw her arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck. + +"Dear auntie," she said, "_don't_ be unhappy about Rosy. I will +be patient, and I know it will come right again, and I won't be +unhappy any more." + +Mrs. Vincent kissed her. + +"Yes, dear Bee," she said, "we must both be patient and hopeful." + +And then they went out, and during the walk Beata noticed that Mrs. +Vincent talked about other things--old times in India that Bee could +remember, and plans for the future when her father and mother should +come home again to stay. Only just as they were entering the house on +their return, Bee could not help saying, + +"Aunt Lillias, I _wonder_ if the necklace will never be found." + +"So do I," said Mrs. Vincent. "I really cannot understand where it can +have gone. We have searched so thoroughly that even if Fixie +_had_ put it somewhere we would have found it. And, if possibly, +he had taken it away with him by mistake, Martha would have seen it." + +But that was all that was said. + +A day or two later Rosy came flying into the schoolroom in great +excitement. Miss Pinkerton was there at the time, for it was the +middle of morning lessons, and she had sent Rosy upstairs to fetch a +book she had left in the nursery by mistake. "Miss Pink, Bee!" she +continued, "our dresses have come from London. I'm sure it must be +them. Just as I passed the backstair door I heard James calling to +somebody about a case that was to be taken upstairs, and I peeped over +the banisters, and there was a large white wood box, and I saw the +carter's man standing waiting to be paid. Do let me go and ask about +them, Miss Pink." + +"No, Rosy, not just now," said Miss Pink. She spoke more firmly than +she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was +beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it +to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down +to her lessons. + +"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you +had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem +better than any one else." + +"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the +dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this +afternoon." + +Rosy looked at her with surprise. Lately Beata had never answered her +cross speeches like this, but had looked either ready to cry, or had +told her she was very unkind or very naughty, which had not mended +matters! + +Rosy was right. The white wood box did contain the dresses, and though +Mrs. Vincent was busy that day, as she and Aunt Edith were going a +long drive to spend the afternoon and evening with friends at some +distance, she understood the little girls' eagerness to see them, and +had the box undone and the costumes fully exhibited to please them. +They were certainly very pretty, for though the material they were +made of was only cotton, they had been copied exactly from an old +picture Lady Esther had sent on purpose. The only difference between +them was that one of the quilted under skirts was sky blue to suit +Rosy's bright complexion and fair hair, and the other was a very +pretty shade of rose colour, which, went better with Bee's dark hair +and paler face. + +The children stood entranced, admiring them. + +"Now, dears, I must put them away," said Mrs. Vincent. "It is really +time for me to get ready." + +"O mamma!" exclaimed Rosy, "do leave them out for us to try on. I can +tell Nelson to take them to my room." + +"No, Rosy," said her mother decidedly. "You must wait to try them on +till to-morrow. I want to see them on myself. Besides, they are very +delicate in colour, and would be easily soiled. You must be satisfied +with what you have seen of them for to-day. Now run and get ready. It +is already half-past three." + +For it had been arranged that Rosy and Bee, with Nelson to take care +of them, were to drive part of the way with Mrs. Vincent and her +sister-in-law, and to walk back, as it was a very pretty country road. + +Rosy went off to get ready, shaking herself in the way she often did +when she was vexed; and while she was dressing she recounted her +grievances to Nelson. + +"Never mind, Miss Rosy," said that foolish person, "we'll perhaps have +a quiet look at your dress this evening when we're all alone. There's +no need to say anything about it to Miss Bee." + +"But mamma said we were not to try them on till to-morrow," said Rosy. + +"No, not to try them on by yourselves, very likely you would get them +soiled. But we'll see." + +It was pretty late when the children came home. They had gone rather +farther than Mrs. Vincent had intended, and coming home they had made +the way longer by passing through a wood which had tempted them at the +side of the road. They were a little tired and very hungry, and till +they had had their tea Rosy was too hungry to think of anything else. +But tea over, Bee sat down to amuse herself with a book till bed-time, +and Rosy wandered about, not inclined to read, or, indeed, to do +anything. Suddenly the thought of the fancy dresses returned to her +mind. She ran out of the nursery, and made her way to her aunt's room, +where Nelson was generally to be found. She was not there, however. +Rosy ran down the passages at that part of the house where the +servants' rooms were, to look for her, though she knew that her mother +did not like her to do so. + +"Nelson, Nelson," she cried. + +Nelson's head was poked out of her room. + +"What is it, Miss Rosy? It's not your bed-time yet." + +"No, but I want to look at my dress again. You promised I should." + +"Well, just wait five minutes. I'm just finishing a letter that one of +the men's going to post for me. I'll come to your room, Miss Rosy, and +bring a light. It's getting too dark to see." + +"Be quick then," said Rosy, imperiously. + +She went back to her room, but soon got tired of waiting there. She +did not want to go to the nursery, for Bee was there, and would begin +asking her what she was doing. + +"I'll go to mamma's room," she said to herself, "and just look about +to see where she has put the frocks. I'm _almost_ sure she'll +have hung them up in her little wardrobe, where she keeps new things +often." + +No sooner said than done. Off ran Rosy to her mother's room. It was +getting dusk, dark almost, any way too dark to see clearly. Rosy +fumbled about on the mantelpiece till she found the match-box, and +though she was generally too frightened of burning her fingers to +strike a light herself, this time she managed to do so. There were +candles on the dressing-table, and when she had lighted them she +proceeded to search. It was not difficult to find what she wanted. The +costumes were hanging up in the little wardrobe, as she expected, but +too high for her to reach easily. Rosy went to the door, and a little +way down the passage, and called Nelson. But no one answered, and it +was a good way off to Nelson's room. + +"Nasty, selfish thing," said Rosy; "she's just going on writing to +tease me." + +But she was too impatient, to go back to her own room and wait there. +With the help of a chair she got down the frocks. Bee's came first, of +course, because it wasn't wanted--Rosy flung it across the back of a +chair, and proceeded to examine her own more closely than she had been +able to do before. It _was_ pretty! And so complete--there was +even the little white mob-cap with blue ribbons, and a pair of blue +shoes with high, though not very high, heels! These last she found +lying on the shelf, above the hanging part of the wardrobe. + +"It is _too_ pretty," said Rosy. "I _must_ try it on." + +And, quick as thought, she set to work--and nobody could be quicker or +cleverer than Rosy when she chose--taking off the dress she had on, +and rapidly attiring herself in the lovely costume. It all seemed to +fit beautifully,--true, the pale blue shoes looked rather odd beside +the sailor-blue stockings she was wearing, and she wondered what kind +of stockings her mother intended her to wear at Summerlands--and she +could not get the little lace kerchief arranged quite to her taste; +but the cap went on charmingly, and so did the long mittens, which +were beside the shoes. + +"There must be stockings too," thought Rosy, "for there seems to be +everything else; perhaps they are farther back in the shelf." + +[Illustration: BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH +THEM.] + +She climbed up on the chair again, but she could not see farther into +the shelf, so she got down and fetched one of the candles. Then up +again--yes--there were two little balls, a pink and a blue, farther +back-by stretching a good deal she thought she could reach them. Only +the candle was in the way, as she was holding it in one hand. She +stooped and set it down on the edge of the chair, and reached up +again, and had just managed to touch the little balls she could no +longer see, when--what was the matter? What was that rush of hot air +up her left leg and side? She looked down, and, in her fright, +fell--chair, Rosy, and candle, in a heap on the floor--for she had +seen that her skirts were on fire! and, as she fell, she uttered a +long piercing scream. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +GOOD OUT OF EVIL. + + + "Sweet are the uses of adversity."--SHAKESPEARE. + +A scream that would probably have reached the nursery, which was not +very far from Mrs. Vincent's room, had there been any one there to +hear it! But as it was, the person who had been there--little Bee--was +much nearer than the nursery at the time of Rosy's accident. The house +was very silent that evening, and Nelson had not thought of bringing a +light; so when it got too dark to read, even with the book pressed +close against the window-panes, Bee grew rather tired of waiting there +by herself, with nothing to do. + +"I wonder where Rosy is," she thought, opening the door, and looking +out along the dusky passages. + +And just then she heard Rosy's voice, at some little distance, +calling, "Nelson, Nelson." + +"If she is with Nelson I won't go," thought Bee. "I'll wait till she +comes back;" and she came into the empty nursery again, and wished +Martha was home. + +"She always makes the nursery so comfortable," thought Bee. Then it +struck her that perhaps it was not very kind of her not to go and see +what Rosy wanted--she had not heard any reply to Rosy's call for +Nelson. + +"Her voice sounded as if she was in Aunt Lillias's room," she said to +herself. "What can she be wanting? perhaps I'd better go and see." + +And she set off down the passage. The lamps were not yet lighted; +perhaps the servants were less careful than usual, knowing that the +ladies would not be home till late, but Bee knew her way about the +house quite well. She was close to the door of Mrs. Vincent's room, +and had already noticed that it stood slightly ajar, for a light was +streaming out, when--she stood for a second half-stupefied with +terror--what was it?--what could be the matter?--as Rosy's fearful +scream reached her ears. Half a second, and she had rushed into the +room--there lay a confused heap on the floor, for Rosy, in her fall, +had pulled over the chair; but the first glance showed Bee what was +wrong--Rosy was on fire! + +It was a good thing she had fallen, otherwise, in her wild fright, she +would probably have made things worse by rushing about; as it was, she +had not had time to get up before Bee was beside her, smothering her +down with some great heavy thing, and calling to her to keep still, to +"squeeze herself down," so as to put out the flames. The "great thing" +was the blankets and counterpane of the bed, which somehow Bee, small +as she was, had managed to tear off. And, frightened as Rosy was, the +danger was not, after all, so very great, for the quilted under skirt +was pretty thick, and her fall had already partly crushed down the +fire. It was all over more quickly than it has taken me to tell it, +and Rosy at last, half choked with the heavy blankets, and half soaked +with the water which Bee had poured over her to make sure, struggled +to her feet, safe and uninjured, only the pretty dress hopelessly +spoilt! + +And when all the danger was past, and there was nothing more to do, +Nelson appeared at the door, and rushed at her darling Miss Rosy, +screaming and crying, while Beata stood by, her handkerchief wrapped +round one of her hands, and nobody paying any attention to her. +Nelson's screams soon brought the other servants; among them, they got +the room cleared of the traces of the accident, and Rosy undressed and +put to bed. She was crying from the fright, but she had got no injury +at all; her tears, however, flowed on when she thought of what her +mother would have to be told, and Bee found it difficult to comfort +her. + +"You saved me, Bee, dear Bee," she said, clinging to her. "And it was +because I disobeyed mamma, and I might have been burnt to death. O +Bee, just think of it!" and she would not let Beata leave her. + +It was like this that Mrs. Vincent found them on her return late in +the evening. You can fancy how miserable it was for her to be met with +such a story, and to know that it was all Rosy's own fault. But it was +not all miserable, for never had she known her little girl so +completely sorry and ashamed, and so truly grateful to any one as she +was now feeling to Beata. + +And even Aunt Edith's prejudice seemed to have melted away, for she +kissed Bee as she said goodnight, and called her a brave, good child. + +So it was with a thankful little heart that Beata went to bed. Her +hand was sore--it had got badly scorched in pressing down the +blankets--but she did not think it bad enough to say anything about it +except to the cook, who was a kind old woman, and wrapped it up in +cotton wool, after well dredging it with flour, and making her promise +that if it hurt her in the night she would call her. + +It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the +morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was +still sleeping--the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told +her--and she was not to be wakened. + +"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant +said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it. +It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she +went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" + +"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. +What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" + +"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." + +"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head +worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed. + +"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe. + +"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm +up." + +It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs. +Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up, +none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for +poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache, + +"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs. +Vincent asked. + +"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser +looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and--and--you had had +so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added, +affectionately. + +"Yes, dear; but, when I think how much worse they might have been, I +dare not complain," Rosy's mother replied. + +Bee did not go to church that day. Her headache was not very bad, but +it did not seem to get well, and it was still rather bad when she woke +the next morning. + +And that next morning brought back to all their minds what, for the +moment, had been almost forgotten--that it was within three days of +the fete at Summerlands!--for there came a note from Lady Esther, +giving some particulars about the hour she hoped they would all come, +and rejoicing in the promise of fine weather for the children's treat. + +Rosy's mother read the note aloud. Then she looked at Aunt Edith, and +looked at the little girls. They were all together when the letter +came. + +"What is to be done?" said Miss Vincent; "I had really forgotten the +fête was to be on Wednesday. Is it impossible to have a new dress made +in time?" + +"Quite impossible," said Mrs. Vincent, "Rosy must cheerfully, or at +least patiently, bear what she has brought on herself, and be, as I am +sure she is, very thankful that it was no worse." + +Rosy glanced up quickly. She seemed as if she were going to say +something, and the look in her face was quite gentle. + +"I--I--I _will_ try to be good, mamma," she broke out at last. +"And I know I might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for +Bee. And--and--I hope Bee will enjoy the fête." + +But that was all she could manage. She hurried over the last words; +then, bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room. + +"Poor darling!" said Aunt Edith. "Lillias, are you sure we can do +nothing? Couldn't one of her white dresses be done up somehow?" + +"No," said Mrs. Vincent. "It would only draw attention to her if she +was to go dressed differently from the others, and I should not wish +that. Besides--oh no--it is much better not." + +She had hardly said the words when she felt something gently pulling +her, and, looking down, there was Bee beside her, trying to whisper +something. + +"Auntie," she said, "would you, oh! _would_ you let Rosy go +instead of me, wearing my dress? It would fit her almost as well as +her own. And, do you know, I _wouldn't_ care to go alone. It +wouldn't be _any_ happiness to me, and it would be such happiness +to know that Rosy could go. And I'm afraid I've got a little cold or +something, for I've still got a headache, and I'm not sure that it +will be better by Wednesday." + +She looked up entreatingly in Mrs. Vincent's face, and then Rosy's +mother noticed how pale and ill she seemed. + +"My dear little Bee," she said, "you must try to be better by +Wednesday. And, you know, dear, though we are all very sorry for Rosy, +it is only what she has brought on herself. I hope she has learnt a +lesson--more than one lesson--but, if she were to have the pleasure of +going to Summerlands, she might not remember it so well." + +Beata said no more--she could not oppose Rosy's mother--but she shook +her head a little sadly. + +"I don't think Rosy's like that, Aunt Lillias," she said; "I don't +think it would make her forget." + +Beata's headache was not better the next day; and, as the day went on, +it grew so much worse that Mrs. Vincent at last sent for the doctor. +He said that she was ill, much in the same way that Fixie had been. +Not that it was anything she could have caught from him--it was not +that kind of illness at all--but it was the first spring either of +them had been in England, and he thought that very likely the change +of climate had caused it with them both. He was not, he said, anxious +about Bee, but still he looked a little grave. She was not strong, and +she should not be overworked with lessons, or have anything to trouble +or distress her. + +"She has not been overworked," Mrs. Vincent said. + +"And she seems very sweet-tempered and gentle. A happy disposition, I +should think," said the doctor, as he hastened away. + +His words made Mrs. Vincent feel rather sad. It was true--Bee had a +happy disposition--she had never, till lately, seen her anything but +bright and cheery. + +"My poor little Bee," she thought, "I was hard upon her. I did not +quite understand her. In my anxiety about Rosy when her aunt and +Nelson came I fear I forgot Bee. But I do trust all that is over, and +that Rosy has truly learnt a lesson. And we must all join to make +little Bee happy again." + +She returned to Bee's room. The child was sitting up in bed, her eyes +sparkling in her white face--she was very eager about something. + +"Auntie," she said, "you see I cannot possibly go to-morrow. And you +must go, for poor Lady Esther is counting on you to help her. Auntie, +you _will_ forgive poor Rosy now _quite_, won't you, and let +her go in my dress?" + +The pleading eyes, the white face, the little hot hands laid coaxingly +on hers--it would not have been easy to refuse! Besides, the doctor +had said she was neither to be excited nor distressed. + +The tears were in Mrs. Vincent's eyes as she bent down to kiss the +little girl, but she did not let her see them. + +"I will speak to Rosy, dear," she said. "I will tell her how much you +want her to go in your place; and I think perhaps you are right--I +don't think it will make her forget." + +"_Thank_ you, dear auntie," said Bee, as fervently as if Mrs. +Vincent had promised her the most delightful treat in the world. + +That afternoon Bee fell asleep, and slept quietly and peacefully for +some time. When she woke she felt better, and she lay still, thinking +it was nice and comfortable to be in bed when one felt tired, as she +had always done lately; then her eyes wandered round her little room, +and she thought how neat and pretty it looked, how pleased her mother +would be to see how nice she had everything; and, just as she was +thinking this, her glance fell on a little table beside her bed, which +had been placed there with a little lemonade and a few grapes. There +was something there that had not been on the table before she went to +sleep. In a delicate little glass, thin and clear as a soap-bubble, +was the most lovely rose Bee had ever seen--rich, soft, _rose_ +colour, glowing almost crimson in the centre, and melting into a +somewhat paler shade at the edge. + +[Illustration: 'IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY.'] + +"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Bee, "I wonder who put you there. I would +like to scent you"--Bee, like other children I know, always talked of +"scenting" flowers; she said "smell" was not a pretty enough word for +such pretty things--"but I am afraid of knocking over that lovely +glass. It must be one of Aunt Lillias's that she has lent." + +A little soft laugh came from the side of her bed, and, leaning over, +Bee caught sight of a tangle of bright hair. It was Rosy. She had been +watching there for Bee to wake. Up she jumped, and, carefully lifting +the glass, held it close to Bee. + +"It isn't mother's glass," she said; "it's your own. It _was_ +mother's, but I've bought it for you. Mother let me, because I +_did_ so want to do something to please you; and she let me +choose the beautifullest rose for you, Bee. I am so glad you like it; +It's a rose from Rosy. I've been sitting by you such a time. And +though I'm so pleased you like the rose, I _have_ been crying a +little, Bee, truly, because you are so good, and about my going +to-morrow." + +"You _are_ going?" said Bee, anxiously. In Rosy's changed way of +thinking she became suddenly afraid that she might not wish to go. + +"Yes," said Rosy, rather gravely, "I am going. Mother is quite pleased +for me to go, to please you. In one way I would rather not go, for I +know I don't deserve it; and I can't help thinking you wouldn't have +been ill if I hadn't done that, and made you have a fright. And it +seems such a shame for me to wear _your_ dress, when you've been +quite good and _deserve_ the pleasure, and just when I've got to +see how kind you are, and we'd have been so happy to go together. And +then I've a feeling, Bee, that I _shall_ enjoy it when I get +there, and perhaps I shall forget a little about you, and it will be +so horrid of me, if I do--and that makes me, wish I wasn't going." + +"But I want you to enjoy it," said Bee, simply, in her little weak +voice. "It wouldn't be nice of me to want you to go if I thought you +wouldn't enjoy it. And it's nice of you to tell me how you feel. But I +would like you to think of me _this_ way--every time you are +having a very nice dance, or that any one says you look so nice, just +think, "I wish Bee could see me," or "How nice it will be to tell Bee +about it," and, that way, the more you enjoy it the more you'll think +of me." + +"Yes," said Rosy, "that's putting it a very nice way; or, Bee, if +there are very nice things to eat, I might think of you another way. I +might, perhaps, bring you back some nice biscuits or bonbons--any kind +that wouldn't squash in my pocket, you know. I might ask mamma to ask +Lady Esther." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I'm not very hungry, but just a few very nice, +rather dry ones, you know, I would like." "I could keep them for Fixie +when he comes back," was the thought in her mind. + +She had not heard anything about when Fixie and Martha were coming +back, but she was to have a pleasant surprise the next day. It was a +little lonely; for, though Rosy meant to be very, very kind, she was +rather too much of a chatterbox not to tire Bee after a while. + +"Mamma said I wasn't to stay very long," she said; "but don't you mind +being alone so much?" + +"No, I don't think so," said Bee, "and, you know, Phoebe is in the +next room if I want her." + +"I know what you'd like," said Rosy, and off she flew. In two minutes +she was back again with something in her arms. It was Manchon! She +laid him gently down at the foot of Bee's bed. "He's so 'squisitely +clean, you know," she went on, "and I know you're fond of him." + +"_Very_" said Bee, with great satisfaction. + +"I like him better than I did," said Rosy, "but still I think he's a +sort of a fairy. Why, it shows he is, for now that I'm so good--I mean +now that I'm going to be good always--he seems to like me ever so much +better. He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said +'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon,' he let me take him as good +as good." + +But that evening brought still better company for Bee. + +She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the +morning who do you think was standing beside her? Dear little Fixie, +his white face ever so much rounder and rosier, and kind Martha, both +smiling with pleasure at seeing her again, though feeling sorry, too, +that she was ill. + +"Zou'll soon be better, Bee, and Fixie will be so good to you, and +then p'raps we'll go again to that nice place where we've been, for +you to get kite well." + +So Bee, after all, did not feel at all dull or lonely when Rosy came +in to say good-bye, in Bee's pretty dress. And Mrs. Vincent, and even +Miss Vincent, kissed her so kindly! Even Nelson, I forgot to say, had +put her head in at the door to ask how she was; and when Bee answered +her nicely, as she always did, she came in for a moment to tell her +how sorry she was Bee could not go to the fete. "For I must say, Miss +Bee," she added, "I must say as I think you've acted very pretty, very +pretty, indeed, about lending your dress to dear Miss Rosy, bless her." + +"And, if there's anything I can do for you--" Here Bee's breakfast +coming in interrupted her, which Bee, on the whole, was not sorry for. + +She did not see Rosy that evening, for it was late when they came +home, and she was already asleep. But the next morning Bee woke much +better, and quite able to listen to Rosy's account of it all. She had +enjoyed it very much--of course not _as_ much as if Bee had been +there too, she said; but Lady Esther had thought it so sweet of Bee to +beg for Rosy to go, and she had sent her the loveliest little basket +of bonbons, tied up with pink ribbons, that ever was seen, and still +better, she had told Rosy that she had serious thoughts of having a +large Christmas-tree party next winter, at which all the children +should be dressed out of the fairy tales. + +"Wouldn't it be lovely?" said Rosy. "We were thinking perhaps you +would be Red Riding Hood, and I the white cat. But we can look over +all the fairy tales and think about it when you're better, can't we, +Bee?" + +Beata got better much more quickly than Fixie had done. The first day +she was well enough to be up she begged leave to write two little +letters, one to her mother and one to Colin, who had been very kind; +for while she was ill he had written twice to her, which for a +schoolboy was a great deal, I think. His letters were meant to be very +amusing; but, as they were full of cricket and football, Bee did not +find them very easy to understand. She was sitting at the +nursery-table, thinking what she could say to show Colin she liked to +hear about his games, even though the names puzzled her a little, when +Fixie came and stood by her, looking rather melancholy. + +"What's the matter?" she said. + +"Zou's writing such a long time," said Fixie, "and Rosy's still at her +lessons. I zought when zou was better zou'd play wif me." + +"I can't play much," said Bee, "for I've still got a funny buzzy +feeling in my head, and I'm rather tired." + +"Yes, I know," said Fixie, with great sympathy, "mine head was like +fousands of trains when I was ill. We won't play, Bee, we'll only +talk." + +"Well, I'll just finish my letter," said Bee. "I'll just tell Colin he +must tell me all about innings and outings, and all that, when he +comes home. Yes--that'll do. "Your affectionate--t-i-o-n-a-t-e--Bee." +Now I'll talk to you, Fixie. What a pity we haven't got Rosy's beads +to tell stories about!" + +A queer look came into Fixie's face. + +"Rosy's beads," he said. + +"Yes, Rosy's necklace that was lost. And you didn't know where it was +gone when Martha asked you--when your mother wrote a letter about it." + +As she spoke, she drew their two little chairs to what had always been +their favourite corner, near a window, which was low enough for them +to look out into the pretty garden. + +"Don't sit there," said Fixie, "I don't like there." + +"Why not? Don't you remember we were sitting here the last afternoon +we were in the nursery--before you went away. You liked it then, when +I told you stories about the beads, before they were lost." + +"Before _zem_ was lost," said Fixie, his face again taking the +troubled, puzzled look; "I didn't know it was _zem_--I mean it +was somefin else of Rosy's that was lost--lace for her neck, that I'd +_never_ seen." + +Bee's heart began to beat faster with a strange hope. She had seen +Fixie's face looking troubled, and she remembered Martha saying how +her questioning about the necklace had upset him, and it seemed almost +cruel to go on talking about it. But a feeling had come over her that +there was something to find out, and now it grew stronger and +stronger. + +"Lace for Rosy's neck," she repeated, "no, Fixie, you must be +mistaken. Lace for her neck--" and then a sudden idea struck her,--"can +you mean a _necklace?_ Don't you know that a necklace means +beads?" + +Fixie stared at her for a moment, growing very red. Then the redness +finished up, like a thundercloud breaking into rain, by his bursting +into tears, and hiding his face in Bee's lap. + +"I didn't know, I didn't know," he cried, "I thought it was some lace +that Martha meant. I didn't mean to tell a' untrue, Bee. I didn't like +Martha asking me, 'cos it made me think of the beads I'd lost, and I +thought p'raps I'd get them up again when I came home, but I can't. +I've poked and poked, and I think the mouses have eatened zem." + +By degrees Bee found out what the poor little fellow meant. The +morning after the afternoon when Bee and he had had the necklace, and +Bee had put it safely back, he had, unknown to any one, fetched it +again for himself, and sat playing with it by the nursery-window, in +the corner where the hole in the floor was. Out of idleness, he had +amused himself by holding the string of beads at one end, and dropping +them down the mysterious hole, "like fishing," he said, till, +unluckily, he had dropped them in altogether; and there, no doubt, +they were still lying! He was frightened at what he had done, but he +meant to tell Bee, and ask her advice. But that very afternoon the +doctor came, and he was separated from the other children; and, while +he was ill, he seemed to have forgotten about it. When Martha +questioned him at the seaside, he had no idea she was speaking of the +beads; but he did not like her questions, because they made him +remember what he _had_ lost. And then he thought he would try to +get the beads out of the hole by poking with a stick when he came +home; but he had found he could not manage it, and then he had taken a +dislike to that part of the room. + +All this was told with many sobs and tears, but Bee soothed him as +well as she could; and when his mother soon after came to the nursery +and heard the story, she was very kind indeed, and made him see how +even little wrong-doings, like taking the beads to play with without +leave, always bring unhappiness; and still more, how wise and right it +is for children to tell at once when they have done wrong, instead of +trying to put the wrong right themselves. That was all she said, +except that, as she kissed her poor little boy, she told him to tell +no one else about it, except Martha, and that she would see what could +be done. + +Bee and Fixie said no more about it; but on that account, I daresay, +like the famous parrot, "they thought the more." And once or twice +that afternoon, Fixie _could_ not help whispering to Bee, +"_Do_ you fink mamma's going to get the beads hooked out?" or, "I +hope they won't hurt the mouses that lives down in the hole. _Do_ +you fink the mouses has eaten it, p'raps?" + +Beata was sent early to bed, as she was not yet, of course, counted as +quite well; and both she and Fixie slept very soundly--whether they +dreamt of Rosy's beads or not I cannot tell. + +But the next morning Bee felt so much better that she begged to get up +quite early. + +"Not till after you've had your breakfast, Miss Bee," said Martha. +"But Mrs. Vincent says you may get up as soon as you like after that, +and then you and Miss Rosy and Master Fixie are all to go to her room. +She has something to show you." + +Bee and Fixie looked at each other. They felt sure _they_ knew +what it was! But Rosy, who had also come to Bee's room to see how she +was, looked very mystified. + +"I wonder what it can be," she said. "Can it be a parcel come for us? +And oh, Martha, by-the-bye, what was that knocking in the nursery last +night after we were in bed? I heard Robert's voice, I'm sure. What was +he doing?" + +"He came up to nail down something that was loose," said Martha, +quietly; but that was all she would say. + +They all three marched off to Mrs. Vincent's room as soon as Beata was +up and dressed. She was waiting for them. + +"I am so glad you are so much better this morning, Bee," she said, as +she kissed them all; "and now" she went on, "look here, I have a +surprise for you all." She lifted a handkerchief which she had laid +over something on a little table; and the three children, as they +pressed forward, could hardly believe their eyes. For there lay Rosy's +necklace, as bright and pretty as ever, and there beside it lay +another, just like it at the first glance, though, when it was closely +examined, one could see that the patterns on the beads were different; +but any way it was just as pretty. + +"Two," exclaimed Fixie, "_two_ lace-beads, what _is_ the +name? Has the mouses made a new one for Bee, dear Bee?" + +"Yes, for dear Bee," said his mother, smiling, "it is for Bee, though +it didn't come from the mouses;" and then she explained to them how +"Mr. Furniture" had sent the second necklace for Bee, but that she had +thought it better to keep it a while in hopes of Rosy's being found, +as she knew that Bee's pleasure in the pretty beads would not have +been half so great if Rosy were without hers. + +How happy they all looked! + +"What lotses of fairy stories we can make now!" said Fixie--"one for +every bead-lace, Bee!" + +"And, mamma," said Rosy, "I'll keep on being very good now. I daresay +I'll be dreadfully good soon; and Bee will be always good too, now, +because you know we've got our talismans." + +Mrs. Vincent smiled, but she looked a little grave. + +"What is it, mamma?" said Rosy. "Should I say talis_men_, not +talismans?" + +Her mother smiled more this time. + +"No, it wasn't that. 'Talismans' is quite right. I was only thinking +that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your +head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any +little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your +own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can +really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes +from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't +you, Rosy?" + +Rosy got a little red, and looked rather grave. + +"I _nearly_ always remember to say my prayers," she answered. + +"Well, let the 'talisman' help you to remember, if ever you are +inclined to forget. And it isn't _only_ at getting-up time and +going-to-bed time that one may _pray_, as I have often told you, +dear children. I really think, Rosy," she went on more lightly, "that +it would be nice for you and Bee to wear your necklaces always. I +shall like to see them, and I believe it would be almost impossible to +spoil or break them." + +"Only for my fairy stories," said Fixie, "I should have to walk all +round Bee and Rosy to see the beads. You will let them take them off, +_sometimes_, won't you, mamma?" + +"Yes, my little man, provided you promise not to send them visits down +the 'mouses' holes,'" said his mother, laughing. + +This is all I can tell you for the present about Rosy and her brothers +and little Bee. There is more to tell, as you can easily fancy, for, +of course, Rosy did not grow "quite good" all of a sudden, though +there certainly was a great difference to be seen in her from the time +of her narrow escape--nor was Beata, in spite of _her_ talisman, +without faults and failings. Nor was either of them without sorrows +and disappointments and difficulties in their lives, bright and happy +though they were. If you have been pleased with what I have told you, +you must let me know, and I shall try to tell you some more. + +And again, dear children,--little friends, whom I love so much, though +I may never have seen your faces, and though you only know me as +somebody who is _very_ happy, when her little stories please +you--again, my darlings, I wish you the merriest of merry Christmases +for 1882, and every blessing in the new year that will soon be coming! + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + +***** This file should be named 6676-0.txt or 6676-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/7/6676/ + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rosy + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Release Date: March 16, 2014 [EBook #6676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + + + + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> +<br /><br /><br /> +ROSY +</h1> + +<p class="t3"> +BY +</p> + +<p class="t2"> +MRS. MOLESWORTH +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY.' +</p> + +<p><br /></p> + +<p class="t3"> +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: MANCHON] +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +CHAPTER I. <a href="#chap01">ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER II. <a href="#chap02">BEATA</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER III. <a href="#chap03">TEARS</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER IV. <a href="#chap04">UPS AND DOWNS</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER V. <a href="#chap05">ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER VI. <a href="#chap06">A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER VII. <a href="#chap07">MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER VIII. <a href="#chap08">HARD TO BEAR</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER IX. <a href="#chap09">THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER X. <a href="#chap10">STINGS FOR BEE</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER XI. <a href="#chap11">A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT</a> +<br /> +CHAPTER XII. <a href="#chap12">GOOD OUT OF EVIL</a> +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +MANCHON +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"BEATA, DEAR, THIS IS MY ROSY," SHE SAID +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +ROSY AND MANCHON +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?" HE SAID +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?" ROSY REPEATED +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?" SAID FIXIE +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH THEM +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY" +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER I. +</h3> + +<h3> +ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "The highest not more<br /> + Than the height of a counsellor's bag."<br /> + —WORDSWORTH.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat +fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth +till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows +over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a +house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the +floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all +to no purpose, and this made Rosy still more vexed. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma," she said at last, for really it was too bad—wasn't it?—when +she had given herself such a lot of trouble to show how vexed she was, +that no one should take any notice. "<i>Mamma</i>" she repeated. +</p> + +<p> +But still no one answered, and obliged at last to turn round, for her +patience was at an end, Rosy saw that there was no one in the room. +Mamma had gone away! That was a great shame—really a <i>great</i> +shame. Rosy was offended, and she wanted mamma to see how offended she +was, and mamma chose just that moment to leave the room. Rosy looked +round—there was no good going on pouting and frowning and drumming +and stamping to make mamma notice her if mamma wasn't there, and all +that sort of going on caused Rosy a good deal of trouble. So she left +off. But she wanted to quarrel with somebody. In fact, she felt that +she <i>must</i> quarrel with somebody. She looked round again. The +only "somebody" to be seen was mamma's big, <i>big</i> Persian cat, +whose name was "Manchon" (<i>why</i>, Rosy did not know; she thought +it a very stupid name), of whom, to tell the truth, Rosy was rather +afraid. For Manchon could look very grand and terrible when he reared +up his back, and swept about his magnificent tail; and though he had +never been known to hurt anybody, and mamma said he was the gentlest +of animals, Rosy felt sure that he could do all sorts of things to +punish his enemies if he chose. And knowing in her heart that she did +not like him, that she was indeed sometimes rather jealous of him, +Rosy always had a feeling that she must not take liberties with him, +as she could not help thinking he knew what she felt. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: ROSY AND MANCHON] +</p> + +<p> +No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his cushion +looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch his +ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up at +her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly +little girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't. +And I shan't like <i>her</i>. You needn't make faces at me," as +Manchon, disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort +of discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care +what mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I +<i>won't</i> like her;" and then, without considering that there was +no one near to see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little +feet hard, and repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I +<i>won't</i> like her." +</p> + +<p> +But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than +Rosy even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled +face, but not seeming very surprised. +</p> + +<p> +"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you." +</p> + +<p> +"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too +bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix." +</p> + +<p> +But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move. +Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Is</i> you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he +came farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently +than before, "<i>do</i> come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea +when Losy isn't there, and Fix is tired to-day." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her. She +stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and hugged +him. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if <i>you</i> want +her. Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese +Fix <i>kite</i> so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her +grasp. Instantly the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face. +</p> + +<p> +"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother +away from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her +cuddling you <i>skeesing</i>." +</p> + +<p> +Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But +just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix, +Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come +along. There's something good for tea." +</p> + +<p> +"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. +Again Rosy's mood changed. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's +only troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take +Rosy's hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind +Colin—he's such a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, +appeared at the door, Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, +hand-in-hand, Rosy the picture of a model little elder sister. +</p> + +<p> +Colin just glanced at them and ran off. +</p> + +<p> +"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's +fluff for tea—strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all +the afternoon, and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said +cook said it was for the children!" +</p> + +<p> +Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on +the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said +there was nothing else. +</p> + +<p> +"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard +you yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I +didn't say it was for to-day—it's for to-morrow, Sunday." +</p> + +<p> +"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It +should be eaten at once." +</p> + +<p> +"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I +don't know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've +eaten it in the kitchen." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've +always been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the +nursery," and he thumped impressively on the table. +</p> + +<p> +"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said +Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and +speaking for the first time since she had come into the room. +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense, Rosy," said Colin. "<i>I</i> don't mind. Martha was only +joking." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy relapsed into silence, to Martha's relief. +</p> + +<p> +"If Miss Rosy is going to begin!" she had said to herself with fear +and trembling. She seldom or never ventured to joke with Rosy—few +people who knew her did—but Colin was the most good-natured of +children. She looked at Rosy rather curiously, taking care, however, +that the little girl should not notice it. +</p> + +<p> +"There's something the matter with her," thought Martha, for Rosy +looked really buried in gloom; "perhaps her mamma's been telling her +what she told me this morning. I was sure Miss Rosy wouldn't like it, +and perhaps it's natural, so spoilt as she's been, having everything +her own way for so long. One would be sorry for her if she'd only let +one," and her voice was kind and gentle as she asked the little girl +if she wouldn't like some more tea. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want nothing," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter, Rosy?" said Colin. +</p> + +<p> +"Losy's bovvered," said Fixie. +</p> + +<p> +Colin gave a whistle. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" he said, meaningly, "I expect I know what it's all about. I +know, too, Rosy. You're afraid your nose is going to be put out of +joint, I expect." +</p> + +<p> +"Master Colin, don't," said Martha, warningly, but it was too late. +Rosy dashed off her seat, and running round to Colin's side of the +table, doubled up her little fist, and hit her brother hard with all +her baby force, then, without waiting to see if she had hurt him or +not, she rushed from the room without speaking, made straight for her +own little bedroom, and, throwing herself down on the floor with her +head on a chair, burst into a storm of miserable, angry crying. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish I was back with auntie—oh, I do, I do," she said, among her +sobs. "Mamma doesn't love me like Colin and Pixie. If she did, she +wouldn't go and bring a nasty, horrible little girl to live with us. I +hate her, and I shall always hate her—<i>nasty</i> little thing!" +</p> + +<p> +The nursery was quiet after Rosy left it—quiet but sad. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear, dear," said Martha, "if people would but think what they're +doing when they spoil children! Poor Miss Rosy, but she is naughty! +Has it hurt you, Master Colin?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Colin, <i>one</i> of whose eyes nevertheless was crying +from Rosy's blow, "not much. But it's so <i>horrid</i>, going on like +this." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course it is, and <i>why</i> you can go on teasing your sister, +knowing her as you do, I can't conceive," said Martha. "If it was only +for peace sake, I'd let her alone, I would, if I was you, Master +Colin." +</p> + +<p> +Martha had rather a peevish and provoking way of finding fault or +giving advice. Just now her voice sounded almost as if she was going +to cry. But Colin was a sensible boy. He knew what she said was true, +so he swallowed down his vexation, and answered good-naturedly, +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'll try and not tease. But Rosy isn't like anybody else. She +flies into a rage for just nothing, and it's always those people +somehow that make one <i>want</i> to tease them. But, I say, Martha, I +really do <i>wonder</i> how we'll get on when—" +</p> + +<p> +A warning glance stopped him, and he remembered that little Felix knew +nothing of what he was going to speak about, and that his mother did +not wish anything more said of it just yet. So Colin said no more—he +just whistled, as he always did if he was at a loss about anything, +but his whistle sometimes seemed to say a good deal. +</p> + +<p> +How was it that Colin was so good-tempered and reasonable, Felix so +gentle and obedient, and Rosy, poor Rosy, so very different? For they +were her very own brothers, she was their very own sister. There must +have been some difference, I suppose, naturally. Rosy had always been +a fiery little person, but the great pity was that she had been sadly +spoilt. For some years she had been away from her father and mother, +who had been abroad in a warm climate, where delicate little Felix was +born. They had not dared to take Colin and Rosy with them, but Colin, +who was already six years old when they left England, had had the good +fortune to be sent to a very nice school, while Rosy had stayed +altogether with her aunt, who had loved her dearly, but in wishing to +make her perfectly happy had made the mistake of letting her have her +own way in everything. And when she was eight years old, and her +parents came home, full of delight to have their children all together +again, the disappointment was great of finding Rosy so unlike what +they had hoped. And as months passed, and all her mother's care and +advice and gentle firmness seemed to have no effect, Rosy's true +friends began to ask themselves what should be done. The little girl +was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other +people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what +Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead +of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I +will soon tell you what it was. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper +tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is +<i>nothing</i> more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid +kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. Not like +the rather <i>nice</i> tiredness one feels when one has been working +hard either at one's own business, or, <i>still</i> nicer, at helping +other people—the sort of pleasant fatigue with which one lays one's +head on the pillow, feeling that all the lessons are learnt, and well +learnt, for to-morrow morning, or that the bit of garden is quite, +quite clear of weeds, and father or mother will be so pleased to see +it! But to fall half asleep on the floor, or on your bed, with +wearied, swollen eyes, and panting breath and aching head, feeling or +fancying that no one loves you—that the world is all wrong, and there +is nothing sweet or bright or pretty in it, no place for you, and no +use in being alive—all these <i>miserable</i> feelings that are the +natural and the right punishment of yielding to evil tempers, +forgetting selfishly all the pain and trouble you cause—what +<i>can</i> be more wretched? Indeed, I often think no punishment that +can be given can be half so bad as the punishment that comes of +itself—that is joined to the sin by ties that can never be undone. +And the shame of it all! Rosy was not quite what she had been when she +first came home to her mother—she was beginning to feel ashamed when +she had yielded to her temper—and even this, though a small +improvement, was always something—one little step in the right way, +one little sign of better things. +</p> + +<p> +She was not asleep—scarcely half asleep, only stupid and dazed with +crying—when the door opened softly, and some one peeped in. It was +Fixie. He came creeping in very quietly—when was Fixie anything but +quiet?—and with a very distressed look on his tiny, white face. +Something came over Rosy—a mixture of shame and sorrow, and also some +curiosity to see what her little brother would do; and these feelings +mixed together made her shut her eyes tighter and pretend to be +asleep. +</p> + +<p> +Fixie came close up to her, peeped almost into her face, so that if +she had been really asleep I rather think it would have awakened her, +except that all he did was so <i>very</i> gentle and like a little +mouse; and then, quite satisfied that she was fast asleep, he slowly +settled himself down on the floor by her side. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Losy," he said softly. "Fixie are so solly for you. Poor +Losy—why can't her be good? Why doesn't God make Losy good all in a +minute? Fixie always akses God to make her good"—he stopped in his +whispered talk, suddenly—he had fancied for a moment that Rosy was +waking, and it was true that she had moved. She had given a sort of +wriggle, for, sweet and gentle as Fixie was, she did not at all like +being spoken of as <i>not</i> good. She didn't see why he need pray to +God to make <i>her</i> good, more than other people, she said to +herself, and for half a second she was inclined to jump up and tell +Pix to go away; it wasn't his business whether she was good or +naughty, and she wouldn't have him in her room. But she did <i>not</i> +do so,—she lay still again, and she was glad she had, for poor Fixie +stopped in his talking to pat her softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't wake, poor Losy," he said. "Go on sleeping, Losy, if you are so +tired, and Fix will watch aside you and take care of you." +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to have forgotten all about her being naughty—he sat beside +her, patting her softly, and murmuring a sort of cooing "Hush, hush, +Losy," as if she were a baby, that was very touching, like the murmur +of a sad little dove. And by and by, with going on repeating it so +often, his own head began to feel confused and drowsy—it dropped +lower and lower, and at last found a resting-place on Rosy's knees. +Rosy, who had really been getting sleepy, half woke up when she felt +the weight of her little brother's head and shoulder upon her—she +moved him a little so that he should lie more comfortably, and put one +arm round him. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear Fixie," she said to herself, "I do love him, and I'm sure he +loves me," and her face grew soft and gentle—and when Rosy's face +looked like that it was very pretty and sweet. But it quickly grew +dark and gloomy again as another thought struck her. "If Fixie loves +that nasty little girl better than me or as much—if he loves her +<i>at all</i>, I'll—I don't know what I'll do. I'd almost hate him, +and I'm sure I'll hate her, any way. Mamma says she's such a dear good +little girl—that means that everybody'll say <i>I'm</i> naughtier +than ever." +</p> + +<p> +But just then Fixie moved a little and whispered something in his +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught +the sound of her voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again. +</p> + +<p> +And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER II. +</h3> + +<h3> +BEATA. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "How will she be—fair-haired or dark,<br /> + Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet?<br /> + —All that I care not for, so she be no phraser."<br /> + —OLD PLAY.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin, +She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and +Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And +what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she +caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it +doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds +of times. It's nothing, only—" and Colin gave a sort of wriggle. +</p> + +<p> +"Only what?" said his mother. +</p> + +<p> +"I do so wish Rosy wouldn't be like that. It spoils everything. Just +this Easter holiday time too, when I thought we'd be so happy." +</p> + +<p> +His mother's face grew still graver. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you mean that it was <i>Rosy</i> that struck you—that hit you in +the eye?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I +teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put +out of joint when Be—I can't say her name—when the little girl +comes." +</p> + +<p> +"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained +to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I +thought you would have tried to help me, Colin." +</p> + +<p> +Colin felt very vexed with himself. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I +could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the +way, and one has to learn not to mind it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn +not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just +now, especially not about little Beata." +</p> + +<p> +"Mother," said Colin. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, my boy," said his mother. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say." +</p> + +<p> +"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I +daresay you can call her so." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that would be much better," said Colin, in a more contented +tone. +</p> + +<p> +"Only," said his mother again, and she couldn't help smiling a little +when she said it, "if you call her 'Bee,' don't make it the beginning +of any new teasing by calling Rosy 'Wasp.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Mother!" said Colin. "I daresay I would never have thought of it. But +I promise you I won't." +</p> + +<p> +This was what had upset Rosy so terribly—the coming of little Beata. +She—Beata—was the child of friends of Rosy's parents. They had been +much together in India, and had returned to England at the same time. +So Beata was already well known to Rosy's mother, and Fixie, too, had +learnt to look upon her almost as a sister. Beata's father and mother +were obliged to go back to India, and it had been settled that their +little girl was to be left at home with her grandmother. But just a +short time before they were to leave, her grandmother had a bad +illness, and it was found she would not be well enough to take charge +of the child. And in the puzzle about what they should do with her, it +had struck her father and mother that perhaps their friends, Rosy's +parents, might be able to help them, and they had written to ask them; +and so it had come about that little Beata was to come to live with +them. It had all seemed so natural and nice. Rosy's mother was so +pleased about it, for she thought it would be just what Rosy needed to +make her a pleasanter and more reasonable little girl. +</p> + +<p> +"Beata is such a nice child," she said to Rosy's father when they were +talking about it, "and not one bit spoilt. I think it is <i>sure</i> +to do Rosy good," and, full of pleasure in the idea, she told Rosy +about it. +</p> + +<p> +But—one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him +drink, says the old proverb—Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the +very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming +was on purpose to vex <i>her</i>, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most +things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what +had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her—when she would +have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say +no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as +he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his +delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing +in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt +by her <i>exactingness</i>. Fixie must love her as much or better than +anybody—he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. +That was how she sometimes talked to him, and it puzzled and +frightened him—he was such a very little fellow, you see. And +<i>mother</i> had never told him that loving other people too made his +love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata +had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to +say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy +must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had +been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's mother thought over what Colin had told her, and settled in her +own mind that it was better to take no notice of it in speaking to +Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"If it had been a quarrel about anything else," she said to herself, +"it would have been different. But about Beata I want to say nothing +more to vex Rosy, or wake her unkind feelings." +</p> + +<p> +But Rosy's mother did not yet quite know her little girl. There was +one thing about her which was <i>not</i> spoilt, and that was her +honesty. +</p> + +<p> +When the children came down that morning to see their mother, as they +always did, a little after breakfast, Rosy's face wore a queer look. +</p> + +<p> +"Good morning, little people," said their mother. "I was rather late +this morning, do you know? That was why I didn't come to see you in +the nursery. I am going to write to your aunt to-day. Would you like +to put in a little letter, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, thank you," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"Then shall I just send your love? and Fixie's too?" said her mother. +She went on speaking because she noticed the look in Rosy's face, but +she wanted not to seem to do so, thinking Rosy would then gradually +forget about it all. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want to send my love," said Rosy. "If you say I <i>must</i>, +I suppose I must, but I don't <i>want</i> to send it." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think your love is not worth having, my poor little girl?" +said her mother, smiling a little sadly, as she drew Rosy to her. +"Don't you believe we all love you, Rosy, and want you to love us?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," said Rosy, gloomily. "I don't think anybody can love +me, for Martha's always saying if I do naughty things <i>you</i> won't +love me and father won't love me, and nobody." +</p> + +<p> +"Then why don't you leave off doing naughty things, Rosy?" said her +mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I can't," Rosy replied, coolly. "I suppose I was spoilt at +auntie's, and now I'm too old to change. I don't care. It isn't my +fault: it's auntie's." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said her mother, gravely, "who ever said so to you? Where did +you ever hear such a thing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Lots of times," Rosy replied. "Martha's said so, and Colin says so +when he's vexed with me. He's always said so," she added, as if she +didn't quite like owning it, but felt that she must. "He said I was +spoilt before you came home, but auntie wouldn't let him. <i>She</i> +thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she +thought so too. +</p> + +<p> +"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if +you ask <i>yourself</i>, Rosy, you will very often find that you are +not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it +is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You +must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt +was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her." +</p> + +<p> +"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit +Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. I was going to tell you—I meant to +tell you." +</p> + +<p> +"And are you sorry for it now, Rosy dear?" asked her mother, very +gently. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at her in surprise. Her mother spoke so gently. She had +rather expected her to be shocked—she had almost, if you can +understand, <i>wished</i> her to be shocked, so that she could say to +herself how naughty everybody thought her, how it was no use her +trying to be good and all the rest of it—and she had told over what +she had done in a hard, <i>un</i>sorry way, almost on purpose. But +now, when her mother spoke so kindly, a different feeling came into +her heart. She looked at her mother, and then she looked down on the +ground, and then, almost to her own surprise, she answered, almost +humbly, +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know. I don't think I was, but I think I am a little sorry +now." +</p> + +<p> +Seeing her so unusually gentle, her mother went a little further. +"What made you so vexed with Colin?" she asked. Rosy's face hardened. +</p> + +<p> +"Mother," she said, "you'd better not ask me. It was because of +something he said that I don't want to tell you." +</p> + +<p> +"About Beata?" asked her mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Rosy, "if you know about it, it isn't my fault if you are +vexed. I don't want her to come—I don't want <i>any</i> little girl +to come, because I know I shan't like her. I like boys better than +girls, and I don't like good little girls <i>at all</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said her mother, "you are talking so sillily that if Fixie +even talked like that I should be quite surprised. I won't answer you. +I will not say any more about Beata—you know what I wish, and what is +right, and so I will leave it to you. And I will give you a kiss, my +little girl, to show you that I want to trust you to try to do right +about this." +</p> + +<p> +She was stooping to kiss her, when Rosy stopped her. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, mother," she said. "But I don't think I can take the kiss +like that—I don't <i>want</i> to like the little girl." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy!" exclaimed her mother, almost in despair. Then another thought +struck her. She bent down again and kissed the child. "I <i>give</i> +you the kiss, Rosy," she said, "hoping it will at least make you +<i>wish</i> to please me." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," said Rosy, "I do want to please you, mother, about everything +<i>except</i> that." +</p> + +<p> +But her mother thought it best to take no further notice, only in her +own heart she said to herself, "Was there <i>ever</i> such a child?" +</p> + +<p> +In spite of all she had said Rosy felt, what she would not have owned +for the world, a good deal of curiosity about the little girl who was +to come to live with them. And now and then, in her cross and unhappy +moods, a sort of strange confused <i>hope</i> would creep over her +that Beata's coming would bring her a kind of good luck. +</p> + +<p> +"Everybody says she's so good, and everybody loves her," thought Rosy, +"p'raps I'll find out how she does it." +</p> + +<p> +And the days passed on, on the whole, after the storm I have told you +about, rather more peaceably than before, till one evening when Rosy +was saying good-night her mother said to her quietly, +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy, I had a letter this morning from Beata's uncle; he is bringing +her to-morrow. She will be here about four o'clock in the afternoon." +</p> + +<p> +"To-morrow!" said Rosy, and then, without saying any more, she kissed +her mother and went to bed. +</p> + +<p> +She went to sleep that evening, and she woke the next morning with a +strange jumble of feelings in her mind, and a strange confusion of +questions waiting to be answered. +</p> + +<p> +"What would Beata be like? She was sure to be pretty—all people that +other people love very much were pretty, Rosy thought. And she +believed that she herself was very ugly, which, I may tell you, +children, as Rosy won't hear what we say, was quite a mistake. +Everybody is a <i>little</i> pretty who is sweet and good, for though +being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the +shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines +smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives +the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, +alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away +the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good +fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to +be pretty. She had very soft bright hair, and a very white skin, and +large brown eyes that looked lovely when she let sweet thoughts and +feelings shine through them; but though she had many faults, she was +not vain, and she really thought she was not pleasant-looking at all. +</p> + +<p> +"Beata is sure to be pretty," thought Rosy. "I daresay she'll have +beautiful black hair, and blue eyes like Lady Albertine." Albertine +was Rosy's best doll. "And I daresay she'll be very clever, and play +the piano and speak French far better than me. I don't mind that. I +like pretty people, and I don't mind people being clever. What I don't +like is, people who are dedfully <i>good</i> always going on about how +good they are, and how naughty <i>other</i> people is. If she doesn't +do that way I shan't mind so much, but I'm sure she <i>will</i> do +that way. Yes, Manchon," she said aloud, "I'm sure she will, and you +needn't begin 'froo'in' about it." +</p> + +<p> +For Rosy was in the drawing-room when all these thoughts were passing +through her mind—she was there with her afternoon frock on, and a +pretty muslin apron, all nice to meet Beata and her uncle, who were +expected very soon. And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite +peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any +good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," +she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the +cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the +credit of reading her very thoughts! +</p> + +<p> +The door opened, and her mother came in, leading Fixie by the hand and +Colin just behind. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you're ready, Rosy," she said. "That's right. They should be here +very soon." +</p> + +<p> +"Welly soon," repeated Fixie. "Oh, Fixie will be so glad to see Beenie +again!" +</p> + +<p> +"What a stupid name," said Rosy. "<i>We</i>'re not to call her that, +are we, mother?" +</p> + +<p> +She spoke in rather a grand, grown-up tone, but her mother knew she +put that on sometimes when she was not really feeling unkind. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>I</i> shall call her Bee," said Colin. "It would do very well, as +we've"—he stopped suddenly—"as we've got a wasp already," he had +been going to say—it seemed to come so naturally—when his mother's +warning came back to his mind. He caught her eye, and he saw that she +couldn't help smiling and he found it so difficult not to burst out +laughing that he stuffed his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth, and +went to the window, where he pretended to see something very +interesting. Rosy looked up suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +"What were you going to say, Colin?" she asked. "I'm sure—" but she +too stopped, for just then wheels were heard on the gravel drive +outside. +</p> + +<p> +"Here they are," said mother. "Will you come to the door to welcome +Beata, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy came forward, though rather slowly. Colin was already out in the +hall, and Fixie was dancing along beside his mother. Rosy kept behind. +The carriage, that had gone to the station to meet the travellers, was +already at the door, and the footman was handing out one or two +umbrellas, rugs, and so on. Then a gray-haired gentleman, whom Rosy, +peeping through a side window, did not waste her attention on—"He is +quite old," she said to herself—got out, and lifted down a much +smaller person—smaller than Rosy herself, and a good deal smaller +than the Beata of Rosy's fancies. The little person sprang forward, +and was going to kiss Rosy's mother, when she caught sight of the tiny +white face beside her. +</p> + +<p> +"O Fixie, dear little Fixie!" she said, stooping to hug him, and then +she lifted her own face for Fixie's mother to kiss. At once, almost +before shaking hands with the gentleman, Rosy's mother looked round +for her, and Rosy had to come forward. +</p> + +<p> +"Beata, dear, this is my Rosy," she said; and something in the tone of +the "my" touched Rosy. It seemed to say, "I will put no one before +you, my own little girl—no stranger, however sweet—and you will, on +your side, try to please me, will you not?" So Rosy's face, though +grave, had a nice look the first time Beata saw it, and the first +words she said as they kissed each other were, "O Rosy, how pretty you +are! I shall love you very much." +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER III. +</h3> + +<h3> +TEARS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "'Twere most ungrateful."—V. S. LAKDOH.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +Beata was not pretty. That was the first thing Rosy decided about her. +She was small, and rather brown and thin. She had dark hair, certainly +like Lady Albertine's in colour, but instead of splendid curls it was +cut quite short—as short almost as Colin's—and her eyes were neither +very large nor very blue. They were nice gray eyes, that could look +sad, but generally looked merry, and about the rest of her face there +was nothing very particular. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at her for a moment or two, and she looked at Rosy. Then +at last Rosy said, +</p> + +<p> +"Will you come into the drawing-room?" for she saw that her mother and +Beata's uncle were already on their way there. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," said Beata, and then they quietly followed the big +people. Rosy's father was not at home, but he would be back soon, her +mother was telling the gray-haired gentleman, and then she went on to +ask him how "they" had got off, if it had been comfortably, and so on. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes," he replied, "it was all quite right. Poor Maud!—" +</p> + +<p> +"That's my mamma," said Beata in a low voice, and Rosy, turning +towards her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. +</p> + +<p> +"What a queer little girl she is!" thought Rosy, but she did not say +so. +</p> + +<p> +"—Poor Maud," continued the gentleman. "It is a great comfort to her +to leave the child in such good hands." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope she will be happy," said Rosy's mother. "I will do my best to +make her so." +</p> + +<p> +"I am very sure of that," said Beata's uncle. "It is a great +disappointment to her grandmother not to have her with her. She is a +dear child. Last week at the parting she behaved like a brick." +</p> + +<p> +Both little girls heard this, and Beata suddenly began speaking rather +fast, and Rosy saw that her cheeks had got very red. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think your mamma would mind if I went upstairs to take off my +hat? I think my face must be dirty with the train," said Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you like staying here?" said Rosy, rather crossly. "<i>I</i> +think you should stay till mother tells it to go," for she wanted to +hear what more her mother and the gentleman said to each other, the +very thing that made Beata uncomfortable. +</p> + +<p> +Beata looked a little frightened. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't mean to be rude," she said. Then suddenly catching sight of +Manchon, she exclaimed, "Oh, what a beautiful cat! May I go and stroke +him?" +</p> + +<p> +"If you like," said Rosy, "but he isn't <i>really</i> a nice cat." And +then, seeing that Beata looked at her with curiosity, she forgot about +listening to the big people, and, getting up, led Beata to Manchon's +cushion. +</p> + +<p> +"Everybody says he's pretty," she went on, "but I don't think so, +because <i>I</i> think he's a kind of bad fairy. You don't know how he +froos sometimes, in a most horrible way, as if he was mocking you. He +knows I don't like him, for whenever I'm vexed he looks pleased." +</p> + +<p> +"Does he really?" said Beata. "Then I don't like him. I shouldn't look +pleased if you were vexed, Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +"Wouldn't you?" said Rosy, doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I'm sure I wouldn't. I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has +such an unkind dis—I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you +know." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its +only <i>me</i> Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. <i>I'm</i> +not the favourite. I <i>was</i> at my aunty's though, that I was—but +it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head +dolefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Who is Nelson?" asked Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Aunty's maid. She cried when I came away, and she said it was because +she was so sorry for me. It wouldn't be the same as <i>there</i>, she +said. I shouldn't be thought as much of with two brothers, and Nelson +knew that my mamma was dreadfully strict. I daresay she'd be still +more sorry for me if she knew—" Rosy stopped short. +</p> + +<p> +"Why don't you go on?" said Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I was going to say something I don't want to say. Perhaps it +would vex you," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +Beata considered a little. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not very easily vexed," she said at last. "I think I'd like you +to go on saying it if you don't mind—unless its anything naughty." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no," said Rosy, "it isn't anything naughty. I was going to say +Nelson would be still more sorry for me if she knew <i>you</i> had +come." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Me!</i>" said Beata, opening her eyes. "Why? She can't know +anything about me—I mean she couldn't know anything to make her think +I would be unkind to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, it isn't that. Only you see some little girls would think that +if another little girl came to live with them it wouldn't be so +nice—that perhaps their mammas and brothers and everybody would pet +the other little girl more than them." +</p> + +<p> +"And do you think that?" said Beata, anxiously. A feeling like a cold +chill seemed to have touched her heart. She had never before thought +of such things—loving somebody else "better," not being "the +favourite," and so on. Could it all be true, and could it, +<i>worst</i> of all, be true that her coming might be the cause of +trouble and vexation to other people—at least to Rosy? She had come +so full of love and gratitude, so ready to like everybody; she had +said so many times to her mother, "I'm <i>sure</i> I'll be happy. I'll +write and tell you how happy I am," swallowing bravely the grief of +leaving her mother, and trying to cheer her at the parting by telling +her this—it seemed very hard and strange to little Beata to be told +that <i>anybody</i> could think she could be the cause of unhappiness +to any one. "Do <i>you</i> think that?" she repeated. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at her, and something in the little eager face gave her +what she would have called a "sorry" feeling. But mixed with this was +a sense of importance—she liked to think that she was very good for +not feeling what she said "some little girls" would have felt. +</p> + +<p> +"No," she said, rather patronisingly, "I don't think I do. I only said +<i>some</i> little girls would. No, I think I shall like you, if only +you don't make a fuss about how good you are, and set them all against +me. I settled before you came that I wouldn't mind if you were pretty +or very clever. And you're not pretty, and I daresay you're not very +clever. So I won't mind, if you don't make everybody praise you up for +being so <i>good</i>." +</p> + +<p> +Beata's eyes filled with tears. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want anybody to praise me," she said. "I only wanted you all +to love me," and again Rosy had the sorry feeling, though she did not +feel that she was to blame. +</p> + +<p> +"I only told her what I really thought," she said to herself; but +before she had time to reflect that there are two ways of telling what +one thinks, and that sometimes it is not only foolish, but wrong and +unkind, to tell of thoughts and feelings which we should try to +<i>leave off</i> having, her mother turned round to speak to her. +</p> + +<p> +"I think we should take Beata upstairs to her room, Rosy," she said. +"You must be tired, dear," and the kind words and tone, so like what +her own mother's would have been, made the cup of Beata's distress +overflow. She gave a little sob and then burst into tears. Rosy half +sprang forward—she was on the point of throwing her arms round Beata +and whispering, "I <i>will</i> love you, dear, I <i>do</i> love you;" +but alas, the strange foolish pride that so often checked her good +feelings, held her back, and jealousy whispered, "If you begin making +such a fuss about her, she'll think she's to be before you, and very +likely, if you seem so sorry, she'll tell your mother you made her +cry." So Rosy stood still, grave and silent, but with some trouble in +her face, and her mother felt a little, just a very little vexed with +Beata for beginning so dolefully. +</p> + +<p> +"It will discourage Rosy," she said to herself, "just when I was so +anxious for Beata to win her affection from the first." +</p> + +<p> +And Beata's uncle, too, looked disappointed. Just when he had been +praising her so for her bravery! +</p> + +<p> +"Why, my little girl," he said, "you didn't cry like this even when +you said good-bye at Southampton." +</p> + +<p> +"That must be it," said Rosy's mother, who was too kind to feel vexed +for more than an instant; "the poor child has put too much force on +herself, and that always makes one break down afterwards. Come, dear +Beata, and remember how much your mother wanted you to be happy with +us." +</p> + +<p> +She held out her hand, but to her surprise Beata still hung back, +clinging to her uncle. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, please," she whispered, "let me go back with you, uncle. I don't +care how dull it is—I shall not be any trouble to grandmother while +she is ill. Do let me go back—I cannot stay here." +</p> + +<p> +Beata's uncle was kind, but he had not much experience of children. +</p> + +<p> +"Beata," he said, and his voice was almost stern, "it is impossible. +All is arranged here for you. You will be sorry afterwards for giving +way so foolishly. You would not wish to seem <i>ungrateful</i>, my +little girl, for all your kind friends here are going to do for you?" +</p> + +<p> +The word ungrateful had a magical effect. Beata raised her head from +his shoulder, and digging in her pocket for her little handkerchief, +wiped away the tears, and then looking up, her face still quivering, +said gently, "I won't cry any more, uncle; I <i>will</i> be good. +Indeed, I didn't mean to be naughty." +</p> + +<p> +"That's right," he answered, encouragingly. And then Rosy's mother +again held out her hand, and Beata took it timidly, and followed by +Rosy, whose mind was in a strange jumble, they went upstairs to the +room that was to be the little stranger's. +</p> + +<p> +It was as pretty a little room as any child could have wished +for—bright and neat and comfortable, with a pleasant look-out on the +lawn at the side of the house, while farther off, over the trees, the +village church, or rather its high spire, could be seen. For a moment +Beata forgot her new troubles. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, how pretty!" she said, "Is this to be my room? I never had such a +nice one. But when they come home from India for always, papa and +mamma are going to get a pretty house, and choose all the +furniture—like here, you know, only not so pretty, I daresay, for a +house like this would cost such a great deal of money." +</p> + +<p> +She was chattering away to Rosy's mother quite in her old way, greatly +to Rosy's mother's pleasure, when she—Mrs. Vincent, opened a door +Beata had not before noticed. +</p> + +<p> +"This is Rosy's room," she said. "I thought it would be nice for you +to be near each other. And I know you are very tidy, Bee, so you will +set Rosy a good example—eh, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +She said it quite simply, and Beata would have taken it in the same +way half an hour before, but looking round the little girl caught an +expression on Rosy's face which brought back all her distress. It +seemed to say, "Oh, you're beginning to be praised already, I see," +but Rosy's mother had not noticed it, for Rosy had turned quickly +away. When, however, Mrs. Vincent, surprised at Beata's silence, +looked at her again, all the light had faded out of the little face, +and again she seemed on the point of tears. +</p> + +<p> +"How strangely changeable she is," thought Mrs. Vincent, "I am sure +she used not to be so; she was merry and pleased just as she seemed a +moment or two ago." +</p> + +<p> +"What is the matter, dear?" she said. "You look so distressed again. +Did it bring back your mother—what I said, I mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think—I suppose so," Beata began, but there she stopped. "'No," +she said bravely, "it wasn't that. But, please—I don't want to be +rude—but, please, would you not praise me—not for being tidy or +anything." +</p> + +<p> +How gladly at that moment would she have said, "I'm not tidy. Mamma +always says I'm not," had it been true. But it was not—she was a very +neat and methodical child, dainty and trim in everything she had to do +with, as Rosy's mother remembered. +</p> + +<p> +"What <i>shall</i> I do?" she said to herself. "It seems as if only my +being naughty would make Rosy like me, and keep me from doing her +harm. What <i>can</i> I do?" and a longing came over her to throw her +arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck, and tell her her troubles and ask her +to explain it all to her. But her faithfulness would not let her think +of such a thing. "That <i>would</i> do Rosy harm," she remembered, "and +perhaps she meant to be kind when she spoke that way. It was kinder +than to have kept those feelings to me in her heart and never told me. +But I don't know what to do." +</p> + +<p> +For already she felt that Mrs. Vincent thought her queer and +changeable, <i>rude</i> even, perhaps, though she only smiled at +Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she +said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite. +</p> + +<p> +"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and +telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon +be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and +she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Rosy," she said, "will you please to go into the nursery and put +away your dolls' things before tea. They're all over the table. I'd +have done it in a minute, but you have your own ways and I was afraid +of doing it wrong." +</p> + +<p> +She spoke kindly and cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +"What a nice nurse!" thought Beata, with a feeling of relief—a sort +of hope that Martha might help to make things easier for her somehow, +especially as there was something very kindly in the way the maid +began to help her to unfasten her jacket and lay aside her travelling +things. To her surprise, Rosy made no answer. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Rosy, please," said Martha again, and then Rosy looked up +crossly. +</p> + +<p> +"'Miss Rosy, please,'" she said mockingly. "You're just putting on all +that politeness to show off. No, I won't please. You can put the dolls +away yourself, and, if you do them wrong, it's your own fault. You've +seen lots of times how I do them." +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Rosy!" said Martha, as if she wanted to beg Rosy to be good, and +her voice was still kind, though her face had got very red when Rosy +told her she was "showing off." +</p> + +<p> +Beata stood in shocked silence. She had had no idea that Rosy could +speak so, and, sad as it was, Martha did not seem surprised. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder if she is often like that," thought little Bee, and in +concern for Rosy her own troubles began to be forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +They went into the nursery to tea. Martha had cleared away Rosy's +things and had done her best to lay them as the little girl liked. But +before sitting down to the table, Rosy would go to the drawer where +they were kept, and was in the middle of scolding at finding something +different from what she liked when Colin and Fixie came in to tea. +</p> + +<p> +"I say, Rosy," said Colin, "you might let us have one tea-time in +peace,—Bee's first evening." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy turned round upon him. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>I</i>'m not a pretender," she said. "<i>I</i>'m not going to sham +being good and all that, like Martha and you, because Bee has just +come." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know what you've been saying to Martha," said Colin, "but I +can't see why you need begin at me about shamming before Bee. You've +not seen me for two minutes since she came. What's the matter, Fix? +Wait a minute and I'll help you," for Fixie was tugging away at his +chair, and could not manage to move it as he wanted. +</p> + +<p> +"I want to sit, aside Bee," he said. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy threw an angry look at him—he understood what she meant. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll sit, aside you again to-morrow, Losy," he hastened to say. But +it did no good. Rosy was now determined to find nothing right. There +came a little change in their thoughts, however, for the kitchen-maid +appeared at the door with a plate of nice cold ham and some of the +famous strawberry jam. +</p> + +<p> +"Cook thought the young lady would be hungry after her journey," she +said. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, indeed," cried Colin, "the young lady's very hungry, and so are +the young gentlemen, and so is the other young lady—aren't you, +Rosy?" he said good-naturedly, turning to her. "He is really a very +kind boy," thought Beata. "Tell cook, with my best compliments, that +we are very much obliged to her, and she needn't expect to see any of +the ham or the strawberry jam again." +</p> + +<p> +It was later than the usual tea-hour, so all the children were hungry +and, thanks to this, the meal passed quietly. Beata said little, +though she could not help laughing at some of Colin's funny speeches. +But for the shock of Rosy's temper and the confusion in her mind that +Rosy's way of speaking had made, Bee would have been quite happy, as +happy at least, she would have said, "as I can be till mamma comes +home again," but Rosy seemed to throw a cloud over everybody. There +was never any knowing from one minute to another how she was going to +be. Only one thing became plainer to Bee. It was not only because +<i>she</i> had come that Rosy was cross and unhappy. It was easy to +see that she was at all times very self-willed and queer-tempered, +and, though Bee was too good and kind to be glad of this, yet, as she +was a very sensible little girl, it made things look clearer to her. +</p> + +<p> +"I will not begin fancying it is because I am in her place, or +anything like that," she said to herself. "I will be as good as I can +be, and perhaps she will get to like me," and Rosy was puzzled and +perhaps, in her strange contradiction, a little vexed at the brighter +look that came over Bee's face, and the cheery way in which she spoke. +For at the first, when she saw how much Bee had taken to heart what +she said, though her <i>best</i> self felt sorry for the little +stranger, she had liked the feeling that she would be a sort of master +over her, and that the fear of seeming to take <i>her</i> place would +prevent Bee from making friends with the others more than she, Rosy, +chose to allow. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Rosy! She would have herself been shocked had she seen written +down in plain words all the feelings her jealous temper caused her. +But almost the worst of jealousy is that it hides itself in so many +dresses, and gives itself so many names, sometimes making itself seem +quite a right and proper feeling; often, very often making one think +oneself a poor, ill-treated martyr, when in reality, the martyrs are +the unfortunate people that have to live with the foolish person who +has allowed jealousy to become his master. +</p> + +<p> +Beata's uncle left that evening, but before he went away he had the +pleasure of seeing his little niece quite herself again. +</p> + +<p> +"That's right," he said, as he bade her good-bye, "I don't know what +came over you this afternoon." +</p> + +<p> +Beata did not say anything, but she just kissed her uncle, and +whispered, "Give my love to dear grandmother, and tell her I am going +to try to be very good." +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER IV. +</h3> + +<h3> +UPS AND DOWNS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Mary, Mary, quite contrary."—NURSERY RHYME.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +That night when Bee was in her little bed, though not yet asleep, for +the strangeness of everything, and all she had to think over of what +had happened in the day, had kept her awake longer than usual, she +heard some one softly open the door and look in. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you awake still, dear?" said a voice which Bee knew in a moment +was that of Rosy's mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, oh yes. I'm quite awake. I'm not a bit sleepy," Beata answered. +</p> + +<p> +"But you must try to go to sleep soon," said Mrs. Vincent. "Rosy is +fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late +for little girls to be awake." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the +first night—while everything is—different, you know—and new." +</p> + +<p> +"And a little strange and lonely, as it were—just at first. Don't be +afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so." +</p> + +<p> +"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking +at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with +you and Fixie again." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm very glad of that," said Mrs. Vincent. "And was it not then the +strange feeling that made you so unhappy this afternoon for a little?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell me, dear," said Mrs. Vincent. "You know if I am to be a 'make-up +mother' for a while, you must talk to me as much as you <i>can</i>, as +if I were your own mother." +</p> + +<p> +She listened rather anxiously for Bee's answer, for two or three +little things—among them something Colin had said of the bad temper +Rosy had been in at tea-time—had made her afraid there had been some +reason she did not understand for Beata's tears. Bee lay still for a +minute or two. Then she said gently and rather shyly, +</p> + +<p> +"I am so sorry, but I don't know what's right to do. Isn't it +sometimes difficult to know?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sometimes it is." Then Mrs. Vincent, in her turn, was silent for +a minute, and at last she said, +</p> + +<p> +"Would you very much rather I did not ask you why you cried?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes," cried Bee, "much, much rather." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well then, but you will promise me that if the same thing makes +you cry again, you <i>will</i> tell me?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Should</i> I?" said Bee. "I thought—I thought it wasn't right to +tell tales," she added so innocently that Mrs. Vincent could not help +smiling to herself. +</p> + +<p> +"It is not right," she said. "But what I ask you to promise is not to +tell tales. It is to tell me what makes you unhappy, so that I may +explain it or put it right. I could not do my duty among you and my +other children unless I knew how things were. It is the <i>spirit</i> +that makes tell-tales—the telling over for the sake of getting others +blamed or punished—<i>that</i> is what is wrong." +</p> + +<p> +"I see," said Beata slowly. "At least I think I see a little, and I'll +try to think about it. I'll promise to tell you if anything makes me +unhappy, <i>really</i> unhappy, but I don't think it will now. I think +I understand better what things I needn't mind." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well, dear. Then good-night," and Rosy's mother kissed Bee very +kindly, though in her heart she felt sad. It was plain to her that +Rosy had made Bee unhappy, and as she passed through Rosy's room she +stopped a moment by the bed-side and looked at the sleeping child. +Nothing could be prettier than Rosy asleep—her lovely fair hair made +a sort of pale golden frame to her face, and her cheeks had a +beautiful pink flush. But while her mother was watching her, a frown +darkened her white forehead, and her lips parted sharply. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't have her put before me. I tell you I <i>won't</i>," she +called out angrily. Then again, a nicer look came over her face and +she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't mean"—"sorry"—"crying," she said, and her mother turned +away a little comforted. +</p> + +<p> +"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You <i>do</i> know what is +right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy +temper?" +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + * * * * *<br /> +</p> + +<p> +The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful +trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night +before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up +the window-blind to look out. And as soon as she was dressed she was +only too delighted to join Rosy and Colin for a run before breakfast. +Children are children all the world over—luckily for themselves and +luckily for other people too—and even children who are sometimes +ill-tempered and unkind are sometimes, too, bright and happy and +lovable. Rosy was after all only a child, and by no means +<i>always</i> a disagreeable spoilt child. And this morning seeing Bee +so merry and happy, she forgot her foolish and unkind feelings about +her, and for the time they were all as contented and joyous as +children should be. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is Fixie?" asked Beata. "May he not come out a little before +breakfast too?" +</p> + +<p> +"Martha won't let him," said Rosy. "Nasty cross old thing. She says it +will make him ill, and I am sure it's much more likely to make him ill +keeping him poking in there when he wanted so much to come out with +us." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't see how you can call Martha cross," said Colin. "And +certainly she's never <i>cross</i> to Fixie." +</p> + +<p> +"How do <i>you</i> know?" said Rosy, sharply. "You don't see her half +as much as I do. And she can always pretend if she likes." +</p> + +<p> +Beata looked rather anxiously at Colin. He was on the point of +answering Rosy crossly in his turn, and again Bee felt that sort of +nervous fear of quarrels or disagreeables which it was impossible to +be long in Rosy's company without feeling. But Colin suddenly seemed +to change his mind. +</p> + +<p> +"Shall we run another race?" he said, without taking any notice of +Rosy's last speech. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee, eagerly, "from here to the library window. But you +must give me a little start—I can't run half so fast as you and +Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +She said it quite simply, but it pleased Rosy all the same, and she +began considering how much of a start it was fair for Bee to have. +</p> + +<p> +When that important point was settled, off they set. Bee was the first +to arrive. +</p> + +<p> +"You must have given me too much of a start," she said, laughing. +"Look here, Colin and Rosy, there's the big cat on the window-seat. +Doesn't he look solemn?" +</p> + +<p> +"He looks very cross and nasty—he always does," said Rosy. Then, +safely sheltered behind the window, she began tapping on the pane. +</p> + +<p> +"Manchon, Manchon," she said, "you can't scratch me through the glass, +so I'll just tell you what I think of you for once. You're a cross, +mean, <i>pretending</i> creature. You make everybody say you're so +pretty and so sweet when <i>really</i> you're—" she stopped in a +fright—"Bee, Bee," she cried, "just look at his face. I believe he's +heard all I said." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, what if he did?" said Beata. "Cats don't understand what one +means." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Manchon</i> does," said Rosy. "Come away, Bee, do. Quick, quick. +We'd better go in to breakfast." +</p> + +<p> +The two little girls ran off, but Colin stayed behind at the library +window. +</p> + +<p> +"I've been talking to Manchon," he said when he came up to them. "He +told me to give you his compliments, Rosy, and to say he is very much +obliged to you for the pretty things you said to him, and the next +time he has the pleasure of seeing you he hopes to have the honour of +scratching you to show his gratitude." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's face got red. +</p> + +<p> +"Colin, how <i>dare</i> you laugh at me?" she called out in a fury. +She was frightened as well as angry, for she really had a strange fear +of the big cat. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not laughing," Colin began again, looking quite serious. "I had +to give you Manchon's message." +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + [Illustration: 'WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?' HE SAID]<br /> +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at Bee. If there had been the least shadow of a smile on +Bee's face it would have made her still more angry. But Beata looked +grave, because she felt so. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I wish they wouldn't quarrel," she was thinking to herself. "It +does so spoil everything. I can't <i>think</i> how Colin can tease +Rosy so." +</p> + +<p> +And sadly, feeling already tired, and not knowing what was best to do, +Beata followed the others to the nursery. <i>They</i> did not seem to +care—Colin was already whistling, and though Rosy's face was still +black, no one paid any attention to it. +</p> + +<p> +But little Fixie ran to Bee and held up his fresh sweet face for a +kiss. +</p> + +<p> +"What is ze matter wif you, Bee?" he said. "You's c'ying. Colin, Losy, +Bee's c'ying," he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +"You're <i>not</i>, are you, Bee?" said Colin. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you, really?" said Rosy, coming close to her and looking into her +face. +</p> + +<p> +The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the +children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face. +</p> + +<p> +"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went +on, "what are you crying for?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, +oh, I do so wish—" and then she stopped. +</p> + +<p> +"What?" said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish +Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee. +</p> + +<p> +"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, <i>that</i> wasn't anything—you +should hear us sometimes." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Please</i> don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear +Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and +not have anything like that." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand. +</p> + +<p> +"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because +you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I +daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a +while here." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I <i>hope</i> not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, +Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you +do a <i>little</i>. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be +better than other people, or <i>pretending</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"But I <i>don't</i> want to do that," said Beata. "I want to <i>be</i> +good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than +other people, and I'm <i>sure</i> I don't want to pretend. I don't +ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? I don't know what +I can say to make you believe me. I can't see that you should think it +such a very funny thing for me to want to be good. Don't <i>you</i> +want to be good?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy, "I suppose I do. I do just now, just at this minute. +And just at this minute I believe what you say. But I daresay I won't +always. The first time Colin teases me I know I shall leave off +wanting to be good. I shall want nothing at all except just to give +him a good hard slap—really to hurt him, you know. I do want to +<i>hurt</i> him when I am very angry—just for a little. And if you +were to say anything to me <i>then</i> about being good, I'd very +likely not believe you a bit." +</p> + +<p> +Just then Martha's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +"Be quiet, Martha," Rosy called back. "We'll come when we're ready. Do +leave us alone. Just when we're talking so nicely," she added, turning +to Bee. "What a bother she is" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>I</i> think she's very kind," said Bee, "but I don't like to say +anything like that to you, for fear you should think I'm pretending or +'setting up,' or something like that." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think that just now," she said. "Well, let's go into the +nursery, then," and, as they came in, she said to Martha with +wonderful amiability, "We aren't very hungry this morning, I don't +think, for we had each such a big hunch of bread and some milk before +we ran out." +</p> + +<p> +"That was quite right, Miss Rosy," said Martha, and by the sound of +her voice it was easy to see she was pleased. "It is never a good +thing to go out in the morning without eating something, even if it's +only a little bit." +</p> + +<p> +Breakfast passed most comfortably, and by good luck Fixie hadn't +forgotten his promise to sit "aside Losy." "It was her turn," he said, +and he seemed to think the honour a very great one. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you remember on the steamer, Fixie?" said Bee, "how we liked to +sit together, and how hot it was sometimes, and how we used to wish we +were in nice cool England?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh ses," said Fixie, "oh it <i>were</i> hot! And the poor young lady, +Bee, that was so ill?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, do you remember her, Fixie? What a good memory you have!" +</p> + +<p> +Fixie got rather red. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not sure that I 'membered her all of myself," he said, "but mamma +telled me about her one day. Her's quite welldened now." +</p> + +<p> +Bee smiled a little at Fixie's funny way of speaking, but she thought +to herself it was very nice for him to be such an honest little boy. +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know she's got well?" said Rosy, rather sharply. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma telled me," said Fixie. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Colin, "it's quite true. And the young lady's father's +going to come to see us some day. I don't remember his name, do you, +Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not quite," said Bee, "yes, I think it was something like +<i>furniture</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Furniture," repeated Colin, "it couldn't be that. Was it 'Ferguson'?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Bee, "it wasn't that." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, never mind," said Colin. "It was something like it. We'll ask +mamma. He is going to come to see us soon. I'm sure of that." +</p> + +<p> +Later in the day Colin remembered about it, and asked his mother about +it. +</p> + +<p> +"What was the name of the gentleman that you said was coming to see us +soon, mamma?" he said—"the gentleman whose daughter was so ill in the +ship coming home from India." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Furnivale," replied his mother. "You must remember him and his +daughter, Bee. She is much better now. They have been all these months +in Italy, and they are going to stay there through next winter, but +Mr. Furnivale is in England on business and is coming to see us very +soon. He is a very kind man, and always asks for Fixie and Bee when he +writes." +</p> + +<p> +"That is very kind of him," said Bee, gratefully. +</p> + +<p> +But a dark look came over Rosy's face. +</p> + +<p> +"It's just as if <i>she</i> was mamma's little girl, and not me," she +said to herself. "I hate people mamma knew when Bee was with her and I +wasn't." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Furnivale doesn't know you are with us," Mrs. Vincent went on; +"he will be quite pleased to see you. He says Cecilia has never +forgotten you; Cecilia is his daughter, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I remember <i>her</i> name," said Bee. "I wish she could come to +see us too. She was so pretty, wasn't she, Aunt—Lillias?" she added, +stopping a little and smiling. Lillias was Mrs. Vincent's name, and it +had been fixed that Beata should call her "aunt," for to say "Mrs. +Vincent" sounded rather stiff. "You would think her pretty, Rosy," she +went on again, out of a wish to make Rosy join in what they were +talking of. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Rosy, with a sort of burst, "I shouldn't. I don't know +anything about what you're talking of, and I don't want to hear about +it," and she turned away with a very cross and angry face. +</p> + +<p> +Bee was going to run after her, but Mrs. Vincent stopped her. +</p> + +<p> +"No," she said. "When she is so very foolish, it is best to leave her +alone." +</p> + +<p> +But though she said it as if she did not think Rosy's tempers of very +much consequence, Beata saw the sad disappointed look on her face. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," thought the little girl, "how I <i>do</i> wish I could do +anything to keep Rosy from vexing her mother." +</p> + +<p> +It was near bed-time when they had been talking about Mr. Furnivale +and his daughter, and soon after the children all said good-night. +Rather to Bee's surprise, Rosy, who had hidden herself in the window +with a book, came out when she was called and said good-night quite +pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder she doesn't feel ashamed," thought Bee, "I'm sure I never +spoke like that to my mamma, but if ever I had, I couldn't have said +good-night without saying I was sorry." +</p> + +<p> +And it was with a slight feeling of self-approval that Beata went up +to bed. When she was undressed she went into the nursery for a moment +to ask Martha to brush her hair. Fixie was not yet asleep, and the +nurse looked troubled. +</p> + +<p> +"Is Fixie ill?" said Bee. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I hope not," said Martha, "but he's troubled. Miss Rosy's been in +to say good-night to him, and she's set him off his sleep, I'm sure." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm so unhappy, Bee," whispered Fixie, when Beata stooped over him to +say good-night. "Losy's been 'peaking to me, and she says nobody loves +her, not <i>nobody</i>. She's so unhappy, Bee." +</p> + +<p> +A little feeling of pain went through Bee. Perhaps Rosy <i>was</i> +really unhappy and sorry for what she had said, though she had not +told any one so. And the thought of it kept Bee from going to sleep as +quickly as usual. "Rosy is so puzzling," she thought. "It is so +difficult to understand her." +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER V. +</h3> + +<h3> +ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Whenever you find your heart despair<br /> + Of doing some goodly thing,<br /> + Con over this strain, try bravely again,<br /> + And remember the spider and king."<br /> + —TRY AGAIN.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +She did go to sleep at last, and she slept for a while very soundly. +But suddenly she awoke, awoke quite completely, and with the feeling +that something had awakened her, though what she did not know. She sat +up in bed and looked about her, if you can call staring out into the +dark where you can see nothing "looking about you." It seemed to be a +very dark night; there was no chink of moonlight coming in at the +window, and everything was perfectly still. Beata could not help +wondering what had awakened her, and she was settling herself to sleep +again when a little sound caught her ears. It was a kind of low, +choking cry, as if some one was crying bitterly and trying to stuff +their handkerchief into their mouth, or in some way prevent the sound +being heard. Beata felt at first a very little frightened, and then, +as she became quite sure that it was somebody crying, very sorry and +uneasy. What could be the matter? Was it Fixie? No, the sounds did not +come from the nursery side. Beata sat up in bed to hear more clearly, +and then amidst the crying she distinguished her own name. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee," said the sobbing voice, "Bee, I wish you'd come to speak to me. +Are you asleep, Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +In a moment Beata was out of bed, for there was no doubt now whose +voice it was. It was Rosy's. Bee was not a timid child, but the room +was very dark, and it took a little courage to feel her way among the +chairs and tables till at last she found the door, which she opened +and softly went into Rosy's room. For a moment she did not speak, for +a new idea struck her,—could Rosy be crying and talking in her sleep? +It was so very unlike her to cry or ask any one to go to her. There +was no sound as Beata opened the door; she could almost have believed +it had all been her fancy, and for a moment she felt inclined to go +back to her own bed and say nothing. But a very slight sound, a sort +of little sobbing breath that came from Rosy's bed, made her change +her mind. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," she said, softly, "are you awake? Were you speaking to me?" +</p> + +<p> +She heard a rustle. It was Rosy sitting up in bed. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she said, "I am awake. I've been awake all night. It's dedful +to be awake all night, Bee. I've been calling and calling you. I'm so +unhappy." +</p> + +<p> +"Unhappy?" said Bee, in a kind voice, going nearer the bed. "What are +you so unhappy about, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you," said Rosy, "but won't you get into my bed a little, +Bee? There is room, if we scrudge ourselves up. One night Fixie slept +with me, and you're not so very much bigger." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll get in for a little," said Beata, "just while you tell me what's +the matter, and why you are so unhappy." +</p> + +<p> +She was quite surprised at Rosy's way of speaking. She seemed so much +gentler and softer, that Bee could not understand it. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you why I'm so unhappy," said Rosy. "I can't be good, Bee. +I never have cared to be good. It's such a lot of trouble, and lots of +peoples that think they're very good, and that other peoples make a +fuss about, are very pretending. I've noticed that often. But when we +had been talking yesterday morning all of a sudden I thought it would +be nice to be good—not pretending, but <i>real</i> good—never cross, +and all that. And so I fixed I would be quite good, and I thought how +pleased you'd be when I never quarrelled with Colin, or was cross to +Martha, or anything like that. And it was all right for a while; but +then when mamma began talking about Mr. Furniture, and how nice he +was, and his daughter, and you knew all about them and I didn't, it +<i>all went away</i>. I told you it would—all the wanting to be +good—and I was as angry as angry. And then I said that, you remember, +and then everybody thought I was just the same, and it was all no +use." +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Rosy," said Bee. "No, I don't think it was no use." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes," persisted Rosy, "it was all no use. But nobody knew, and I +didn't mean anybody to know. Mamma and Colin and nobody could see I +was sorry when I said good-night—<i>could</i> they?" she said, with a +tone of satisfaction. "No, I didn't mean anybody to know, only after I +was in bed it came back to me, and I was so vexed and so unhappy. I +thought everybody would have been <i>so</i> surprised at finding I +could be just as good as anybody if I liked. But I don't like; so just +remember, Bee, to-morrow morning I'm not going to try a bit, and it's +no use saying any more about it. It's just the way I'm made." +</p> + +<p> +"But you do care, Rosy," said Bee, "I know you care. If you didn't you +wouldn't have been thinking about it, and been sorry after you were in +bed." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I <i>did</i> care," said Rosy, with again a little sob. "I had +been thinking it would be very nice, But I'm not going to care—that's +just the thing, Bee—that's what I wanted to tell you—I'm not going +to go on caring." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you always say your prayers, Rosy?" asked Bee, rather solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, <i>of course</i> I do. But I don't think they're much good. I've +been just as naughty some days when I'd said them <i>beautifully</i>, +as some days when I'd been in a hurry." +</p> + +<p> +Beata felt puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't explain about it properly," she said. "But that isn't the +way, I don't think. Mother told me if I thought just saying my prayers +would make me good, it was like thinking they were a kind of magic, +and that isn't what we should think them." +</p> + +<p> +"What good are they then?" said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee. +"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives +us a sort of feeling that <i>He</i>, you know, Rosy, that God is +smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's <i>always</i> +ready to help us." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Is</i> He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser +about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do +make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good." +</p> + +<p> +"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not +good and you don't care. But I think you <i>do</i> care, only," with a +sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly. +</p> + +<p> +"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that +you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But +please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. <i>Do</i> go on. It will get +easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the +piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier +for the next time." +</p> + +<p> +"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone. +"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning +what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again +to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to +be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the +naughty ones you could keep out of my way." +</p> + +<p> +"It wouldn't do at all," said Bee, decidedly. "It would be like going +up two steps and then tumbling back two steps. No, it would be worse, +it would be like going up two and tumbling back three, for every +naughty day would make it still harder to begin again on the good +day." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I won't do that way, then," said Rosy, with wonderful +gentleness. "I'll either <i>go on</i> trying to climb up the steps—how +funnily you say things, Bee!—or I'll not try at all. I'll tell you +to-morrow morning. But remember you're not to tell anybody. +If I fix to be good I want everybody to be surprised." +</p> + +<p> +"But you won't get good all of a sudden, Rosy," said Bee, feeling +afraid that Rosy would again lose heart at the first break-down. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I daresay I won't," returned Rosy. "But don't you see if nobody +but you knows it won't so much matter. But if I was to tell everybody +then it would all seem pretending, and there's nothing so horrid as +pretending." +</p> + +<p> +There was some sense in Rosy's ideas, and Bee did not go against them. +She went back to her own bed with a curious feeling of respect for +Rosy and a warm feeling of affection also. +</p> + +<p> +"And it was very horrid of me to be thinking of her that way +to-night," said honest Bee to herself. "I'll never think of her that +way again. Poor Rosy, she has had no mother all these years that I've +had my mother doing nothing but trying to make me good. But I am so +glad Rosy is getting to like me." +</p> + +<p> +For Rosy had kissed her warmly as they bade each other good-night for +the second time. +</p> + +<p> +"It was very nice of Bee to get out of bed in the dark to come to me," +she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is +pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's +friendship for Beata—<i>trust</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for +they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling +and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the +beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice +calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of +their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able +to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face +did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came +into the nursery. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't +settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it." +</p> + +<p> +Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once +or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as +necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented +herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and +sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went +further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the +back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the +little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and +really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a +little scream, it is true—who could have helped it?—and then rushed +out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that +were running down her cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +"Colin," said Bee, and, for a moment or two, it almost seemed to the +boy as if Rosy's temper had passed into the quiet little girl, "I am +ashamed of you. You naughty, <i>cruel</i> boy, just when poor Rosy +was——" +</p> + +<p> +She stopped suddenly—"just when poor Rosy was beginning to try to be +good," she was going to have said, forgetting her promise to tell no +one of Rosy's plans,—"just when we were all quiet and comfortable," +she said instead. +</p> + +<p> +Colin looked ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't do it any more," he said, "I won't really. Besides there's no +fun in only making her cry. It was only fun when it put her into a +rage." +</p> + +<p> +"Nice <i>fun</i>," said Bee, with scorn. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you know what I mean. I daresay it wasn't right, but I never +meant really to hurt her. And all the fellows at school tease like +that—one can't help getting into the way of it." +</p> + +<p> +"I never heard such a foolish way of talking," answered Bee, who was +for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for +doing wrong things—that other people do them.'" +</p> + +<p> +"It's bad example—the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely +that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have +answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, +which put her on her guard. +</p> + +<p> +"You are trying to tease <i>me</i> now, Colin," she said. "Well, I +don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone—any way for a +few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, +won't you?" +</p> + +<p> +She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her +honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease +me"—she went on—"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody." +</p> + +<p> +Colin could not help laughing. +</p> + +<p> +"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far +too good-natured. Well, I will promise you—I'll promise you more than +you ask—listen, what a grand promise—I'll promise you not to tease +Rosy for three whole months—now, what do you say to that, ma'am?" +</p> + +<p> +Bee's eyes glistened. +</p> + +<p> +"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. +Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to +tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me +about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it +wouldn't do half as well." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went +on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I +promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to +school for three months." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Are</i> you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. +I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I +first came, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; and your lessons—yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a +little too—they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having +holidays just now." +</p> + +<p> +"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but +it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short." +</p> + +<p> +"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having +still another stranger to make friends with. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy—she's afraid of her +tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy +is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In +three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said +again, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee +thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, +for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good +plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, +and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the +other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked +at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about +<i>me</i>?" her look seemed to say. +</p> + +<p> +"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard +about her before." +</p> + +<p> +"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully. +</p> + +<p> +"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for +her—much. She's rather pretending." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said +Bee. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that." +</p> + +<p> +"But if they <i>are</i> pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's +way, for she thinks it of everybody." +</p> + +<p> +"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not <i>everybody</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some +people good who aren't good than think some people who <i>are</i> good +<i>not</i> good—wouldn't you, Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin +meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always +very quick at doing so. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there <i>are</i> lots of +very kind and good people in the world—really kind and good, not +pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling +kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite +knowing how sometimes." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in +saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I +think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want +<i>anybody</i> to know—you remember, don't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody +will find out for themselves, without <i>my</i> telling." +</p> + +<p> +And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they +fell asleep that night. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER VI. +</h3> + +<h3> +A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Multiplication's my vexation,<br /> + Division is as bad."<br /> +</p> + +<p> +Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. +The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he +had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the +little girls' lessons began. +</p> + +<p> +"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning. +</p> + +<p> +"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said. +</p> + +<p> +It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not +manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand +why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody +that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without +really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of +being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any +way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to +her. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun +again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic." +</p> + +<p> +"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you +are grown-up if you cannot count—everybody needs to know how to +count, or else they can't manage their money." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody +must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink." +</p> + +<p> +Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, +pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did +Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said +nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident. +</p> + +<p> +Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. +But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy +threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again. +</p> + +<p> +"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums—you'll +see." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off +giving us sums for always." +</p> + +<p> +"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. <i>I</i> won't do them." +</p> + +<p> +"I will," said Bee. +</p> + +<p> +"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if +she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning +arithmetic any more." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very +fierce. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me +to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell +your mother." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. +"That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, +when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those +<i>horrible</i> sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and +what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie +just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her +tempers off before her little brother. +</p> + +<p> +Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that +Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day +passed quietly. But the next morning it was the same thing. When they +came to the time at which they usually had their arithmetic, Rosy +looked up at Miss Pink with a determined air. +</p> + +<p> +"No arithmetic, Miss Pink, you know," she said. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Pink gave a sort of little laugh. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Rosy," she said, "you are so very comical! Come now, get your +slate—see there is dear Beata all ready with hers. You shall not have +very hard sums to-day, I promise you." +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Pink," said Rosy, "I won't do <i>any</i> sums. I told you so +yesterday, and you know I mean what I say. If Bee chooses to tell +tales, she may, but <i>I</i> won't do any sums." +</p> + +<p> +Miss Pink looked from one to the other. +</p> + +<p> +"There is no use my doing sums without Rosy," said Bee. "We are at the +same place and it would put everything wrong." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Miss Pink. "I cannot give you separate lessons. It would +put everything wrong. But I'm sure you're only joking, Rosy dear. We +won't say anything about the sums to-day, and then to-morrow we'll go +on regularly again, and dear Beata will see it will all be right." +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Rosy, "it won't be all right if you try to make me do any +sums to-morrow or any day." +</p> + +<p> +Bee said nothing. She did not know what to say. She could hardly +believe Rosy was the same little girl as the Rosy whom she had heard +crying in the night, who had made her so happy by talking about trying +to be good. And how many days the silly dispute might have gone on, +there is no telling, had it not happened that the very next morning, +just as they came to the time for the arithmetic lesson, the door +opened and Mrs. Vincent came in. +</p> + +<p> +"Good morning, Miss Pinkerton," she said. "I've come to see how you +are all getting on,"—for Miss Pinkerton did not live in the house, +she only came every morning at nine o'clock—"you don't find your new +pupil <i>very</i> troublesome, I hope?" she went on, with a smile at +Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh dear, no! oh, certainly not," said Miss Pinkerton nervously; "oh +dear, no—Miss Beata is very good indeed. Everything's very nice—oh +we're very happy, thank you—dear Rosy and dear Beata and I." +</p> + +<p> +"I am very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Vincent, but she spoke rather +gravely, for on coming into the room it had not looked to her as if +everything <i>was</i> "very nice." Beata looked grave and troubled, +Miss Pinkerton flurried, and there was a black cloud on Rosy's face +that her mother knew only too well. "What lessons are you at now?" she +went on. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, ah!" began Miss Pinkerton, fussing among some of the books that +lay on the table. "We've just finished a chapter of our English +history, and—and—I was thinking of giving the dear children a +dictation." +</p> + +<p> +"It's not the time for dictation," said Rosy. And then to Bee's +surprise she burst out, "Miss Pink, I wonder how you can tell such +stories! Everything is not quite nice, mamma, for I've just been +telling Miss Pink I won't do any sums, and it's just the time for +sums. I wouldn't do them yesterday, and I won't do them to-day, or any +day, because I hate them." +</p> + +<p> +"You 'won't' and you 'wouldn't,' Rosy," said her mother, so sternly +and coldly that Bee trembled for her, though Rosy gave no signs of +trembling for herself. "Is that a way in which I can allow you to +speak? You must apologise to Miss Pinkerton, and tell her you will be +ready to do <i>any</i> lessons she gives you, or you must go upstairs +to your own room." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go upstairs to my own room then," said Rosy at once. "I'd +'pologise to you, mamma, if you like, but I won't to Miss Pink, +because she doesn't say what's true." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy, be silent," said her mother again. And then, turning to Miss +Pinkerton, she added in a very serious tone, "Miss Pinkerton, I do not +wish to appear to find fault with you, but I must say that you should +have told me of all this before. It is most mistaken kindness to Rosy +to hide her disobedience and rudeness, and it makes things much more +difficult for me. I am <i>particularly</i> sorry to have to punish +Rosy to-day, for I have just heard that a friend is coming to see us +who would have liked to find all the children good and happy." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Beata was on the point of +breaking in with a request that Rosy might be forgiven, but something +in Mrs. Vincent's look stopped her. Miss Pinkerton grew very red and +looked very unhappy—almost as if she was going to cry. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm—I'm very sorry—very distressed. But I thought dear Rosy was +only joking, and that it would be all right in a day or two. I'm sure, +dear Rosy, you'll tell your mamma that you did not mean what you said, +and that you'll do your best to do your sums nicely—now won't you, +dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Rosy, in a hard, cold tone, "I won't. And you might know by +this time, Miss Pink, that I always mean what I say. I'm not like +you." +</p> + +<p> +After this there was nothing for it but to send Rosy up to her own +room. Mrs. Vincent told Miss Pinkerton to finish the morning lessons +with Beata, and then left the schoolroom. +</p> + +<p> +Bee was very unhappy, and Miss Pink by this time was in tears. +</p> + +<p> +"She's so naughty—so completely spoilt;" she said. "I really don't +think I can go on teaching her. She's not like you, dear Beata. How +happily and peacefully we could go on doing our lessons—you and +I—without that self-willed Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +Bee looked very grave. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Pink," she said, "I don't like you to speak like that at all. +You don't say to Rosy to her face that you think her so naughty, and +so I don't think you should say it to me. I think it would be better +if you said to Rosy herself what you think." +</p> + +<p> +"I couldn't," said Miss Pink. "There would be no staying with her if I +didn't give in to her. And I don't want to lose this engagement, for +it's so near my home, and my mother is so often ill. And Mr. and Mrs. +Vincent have been very kind—very kind indeed." +</p> + +<p> +"I think Rosy would like you better if you told her right out what you +think," said Bee, who couldn't help being sorry for Miss Pinkerton +when she spoke of her mother being ill. And Miss Pink was really +kind-hearted, only she did not distinguish between weak indulgence and +real sensible kindness. +</p> + +<p> +When lessons were over Mrs. Vincent called Bee to come and speak to +her. +</p> + +<p> +"It is Mr. Furnivale who is coming to see us to-day," she said. "It is +for that I am so particularly sorry for Rosy to be again in disgrace. +And she has been so much gentler and more obedient lately, I am really +<i>very</i> disappointed, and I cannot help saying so to you, Bee, +though I don't want you to be troubled about Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +"I do think Rosy wants—" began Bee, and then she stopped, remembering +her promise. "Don't you think she will be sorry now?" she said. "Might +I go and ask her?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, dear, I think you had better not," said Mrs. Vincent. "I will see +her myself in a little while. Yes, I believe she is sorry, but she +won't let herself say so." +</p> + +<p> +Beata felt sad and dull without Rosy; for the last few days had really +passed happily. And Rosy shut up in her own room was thinking with a +sort of bitter vexation rather than sorrow of how quickly her +resolutions had all come to nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"It's not my fault," she kept saying to herself, "it's all Miss +Pink's. She knew I hated sums—that horrid kind of long rows worst of +all—and she just gave me them on purpose; and then when I said I +wouldn't do them, she went on coaxing and talking nonsense—that way +that just <i>makes</i> me naughtier. I'd rather do sums all day than +have her talk like that—and then to go and tell stories to mamma—I +hate her, nasty, pretending thing. It's all her fault; and then she'll +be going on praising Bee, and making everybody think how good Bee is +and how naughty I am. I wish Bee hadn't come. I didn't mind it so much +before. I wonder if <i>she</i> told mamma as she said she would, and +if that was why mamma came in to the schoolroom this morning. I +<i>wonder</i> if Bee could be so mean;" and in this new idea Rosy +almost forgot her other troubles. "If Bee did do it I shall never +forgive her—never," she went on to herself; "I wouldn't have minded +her doing it right out, as she said she would, but to go and tell +mamma that sneaky way, and get her to come into the room just at that +minute, no, I'll never—" +</p> + +<p> +A knock at the door interrupted her, and then before she had time to +answer, she heard her mother's voice outside. "I'll take it in myself, +thank you, Martha," she was saying, and in a moment Mrs. Vincent came +in, carrying the glass of milk and dry biscuit which the children +always had at twelve, as they did not have dinner till two o'clock +with their father's and mother's luncheon. +</p> + +<p> +"Here is your milk, Rosy," said her mother, gravely, as she put it +down on the table. "Have you anything to say to me?" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at her mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma," she said, quickly, "will you tell me one thing? Was it Bee +that made you come into the schoolroom just at sums time? Was it +because of her telling you what I had said that you came?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent in her turn looked at Rosy. Many mothers would have +refused to answer—would have said it was not Rosy's place to begin +asking questions instead of begging to be forgiven for their naughty +conduct; but Rosy's mother was different from many. She knew that Rosy +was a strange character to deal with; she hoped and believed that in +her real true heart her little girl <i>did</i> feel how wrong she was; +and she wished, oh, how earnestly, to <i>help</i> the little plant of +goodness to grow, not to crush it down by too much sternness. And in +Rosy's face just now she read a mixture of feelings. +</p> + +<p> +"No, Rosy," she answered very gently, but so that Rosy never for one +instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not +said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then +quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy—you +seem to trust no one—not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad +to find Bee what she had always been—not to be obliged to keep to her +terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her +<i>worst</i> self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that +her suspicions had no ground. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee <i>said</i> she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she +said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you." +</p> + +<p> +"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother. +"You <i>know</i> she would never have tried to get you into disgrace +in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must +tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I +will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of +ours—of your father's and mine——" +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Furniture!" exclaimed Rosy, forgetting her tempers in the +excitement of the news. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Mr. Furnivale," said her mother, and she could not keep back a +little smile; "he is coming this afternoon. It would be punishing not +only you, but your father and Bee and myself—all of us indeed—if we +had to tell our old friend the moment he arrived that our Rosy was in +disgrace. So you may go now and ask Martha to dress you neatly. Mr. +Furnivale <i>may</i> be here by luncheon-time, and no more will be +said about this unhappy morning. But Rosy, listen—I trust to your +honour to try to behave so as to please me. I will say no more about +your arithmetic lessons; will you act so as to show me I have not been +foolish in forgiving you?" +</p> + +<p> +The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she +was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her +mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were +not very far off, +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma, I <i>do</i> thank you. I will try. I will do my sums as much +as you like to-morrow, only—" +</p> + +<p> +"Only what, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Can you tell Miss Pink that it is to please <i>you</i> I want to do +them, not to please <i>her</i>, mamma—she isn't like you. I don't +believe what she says." +</p> + +<p> +"I will tell Miss Pink that you want to please me certainly, but you +must see, Rosy, that obeying her, doing the lessons she gives you by +my wish, <i>is</i> pleasing me," said her mother, though at the same +time in her own mind she determined to have a little talk with Miss +Pink privately. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy, "I know that." +</p> + +<p> +She spoke gently, and her mother felt happier about her little girl +than for long. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Furnivale did arrive in time for luncheon. He had just come when +the little girls and Fixie went down to the drawing-room at the sound +of the first gong. He came forward to meet the children with kindly +interest in his face. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Fixie, my boy, and how are you?" he said, lifting the fragile +little figure in his arms. "Why, I think you are a little bit fatter +and a little bit rosier than this time last year. And this is your +sister that I <i>don't</i> know," he went on, turning to Rosy, +"and—why, bless my soul! here's another old friend—my busy Bee. I +had no idea Mrs. Warwick had left her with you," he exclaimed to Mrs. +Vincent. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Warwick was Beata's mother. I don't think I have before told you +Bee's last name. +</p> + +<p> +"I was just going to tell you about it, when the children came in," +said Rosy's mother. "I knew Cecilia would be so glad to know Bee was +with us, and not at school, when her poor grandmother grew too ill to +have her." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Furnivale, "Cecy will be glad to hear it. She +had no idea of it. And so when you all come to pay us that famous +visit we have been talking about, Bee must come too—eh, Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +Bee's eyes sparkled. She liked kind, old Mr. Furnivale, and she had +been very fond of his pretty daughter. +</p> + +<p> +"Is Cecy much better?" she asked, in her gentle little voice. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Much</i> better. We're hoping to come back to settle in England +before long, and have a nice house like yours, and then you are all to +come to see us," said Mr. Furnivale. +</p> + +<p> +They went on talking for a few minutes about these pleasant plans, and +in the interest of hearing about Cecilia Furnivale, and hearing all +her messages, Rosy, who had never seen her, and who was quite a +stranger to her father too, was naturally left a little in the +background. It was quite enough to put her out again. +</p> + +<p> +"I might just as well have been left upstairs in my own room," she +said to herself. "Nobody notices me—nobody cares whether I am here or +not. <i>I</i> won't go to stay with that ugly old man and his stupid +daughter, just to be always put behind Bee." +</p> + +<p> +And when Beata, with a slight feeling that Rosy might be feeling +herself neglected, and full of pleasure, too, at Mrs. Vincent's having +forgiven her, slipped behind the others and took Rosy's hand in hers, +saying brightly, "<i>Won't</i> it be nice to go and stay with them, +Rosy?" Rosy pulled away her hand roughly, and, looking very cross, +went back to her old cry. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish you'd leave me alone, Bee. I hate that sort of pretending. You +know quite well nobody would care whether <i>I</i> went or not." +</p> + +<p> +And poor Bee drew back quite distressed, and puzzled again by Rosy's +changeableness. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER VII. +</h3> + +<h3> +MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than these."<br /> + —SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +"Your little girl is very pretty, unusually pretty," Mr. Furnivale was +saying to Rosy's mother, as he sat beside her on the sofa during the +few minutes they were waiting for luncheon, "and she looks so strong +and well." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincent, "she is very strong. I am glad you think her +pretty," she went on. "It is always difficult to judge of one's own +children, I think, or indeed of any face you see constantly. I thought +Rosy very pretty, I must confess, when I first saw her again after our +three years' separation, but now I don't think I could judge." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent gave a little sigh as she spoke, which made Mr. Furnivale +wonder what she was troubled about. The truth was that she was +thinking to herself how little she would care whether Rosy was pretty +or not, if only she could feel more happy about her really trying to +be a good little girl. +</p> + +<p> +"Your little girl was with Miss Vincent while you were away, was she +not?" said Mr. Furnivale. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy's mother, "her aunt is very fond of her. She gave +herself immense trouble for Rosy's sake." +</p> + +<p> +"By-the-bye, she is coming to see you soon, is she not?" said Mr. +Furnivale. "She is, as of course you know, an old friend of ours, and +she writes often to ask how Cecy is. And in her last letter she said +she hoped to come to see you soon." +</p> + +<p> +"I have not heard anything decided about it," replied Mrs. Vincent. "I +had begun to think she would not come this year—she was speaking of +going to some seaside place." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, but I rather think she has changed her mind, then," said Mr. +Furnivale, and then he went on to talk of something else to him of +more importance. But poor Mrs. Vincent was really troubled. +</p> + +<p> +"I should not mind Edith herself coming," she said to herself. "She is +<i>really</i> good and kind, and I think I could make her understand +how cruel it is to spoil Rosy. But it is the maid—that Nelson—I +cannot like or trust her, and I believe she did Rosy more harm than +all her aunt's over-indulgence. And Edith is so fond of her; I cannot +say anything against her," for Miss Vincent was an invalid, and very +dependent on this maid. +</p> + +<p> +Little Beata noticed that during luncheon Rosy's mother looked +troubled, and it made her feel sorry. Rosy perhaps would have noticed +it too, had she not been so very much taken up with her own fancied +troubles. She was running full-speed into one of her cross jealous +moods, and everything that was said or done, she took the wrong way. +Her father helped Bee before her—that, she could not but allow was +right, as Bee was a guest—but now it seemed to her that he chose the +nicest bits for Bee, with a care he never showed in helping her. Rosy +was not the least greedy—she would have been ready and pleased to +give away anything, <i>so long</i> as she got the credit of it, and +was praised and thanked, but to be treated second-best in the way in +which she chose to imagine she was being treated—<i>that</i>, she +could not and would not stand. She sat through luncheon with a black +look on her pretty face; so that Mr. Furnivale, whom she was beside, +found her much less pleasant to talk to than Bee opposite, though Bee +herself was less bright and merry than usual. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent felt glad that no more was said about Aunt Edith's +coming. She felt that she did not wish Rosy to hear of it, and yet she +did not like to ask Mr. Furnivale not to mention it, as it seemed +ungrateful to think or speak of a visit from Miss Vincent except with +pleasure. After luncheon, when they were again in the drawing-room, +Mr. Furnivale came up to her with a small parcel in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"I am so sorry," he began, with a little hesitation, "I am so sorry +that I did not know Beata Warwick was with you. Cecy had no idea of +it, and she begged me to give <i>your</i> little girl this present we +bought for her in Venice, and now I don't half like giving it to the +one little woman when I have nothing for the other." +</p> + +<p> +He opened the parcel as he spoke; it contained a quaint-looking little +box, which in its turn, when opened, showed a necklace of glass beads +of every imaginable colour. They were not very large—each bead +perhaps about the size of a pea—of a large pea, that is to say. And +some of them were long, not thicker, but twice as long as the others. +I can scarcely tell you how pretty they were. Every one was different, +and they were beautifully arranged so that the colours came together +in the prettiest possible way. One was pale blue with little tiny +flowers, pink or rose-coloured raised upon it; one was white with a +sort of rainbow glistening of every colour through it; two or three +were black, but with a different tracery, gold or red or bright green, +on each; and some were a kind of mixture of colours and patterns which +seemed to change as you looked at them, so that you could <i>fancy</i> +you saw flowers, or figures, or tiny landscapes even, which again +disappeared—and no two the same. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh how lovely," exclaimed Rosy's mother, "how very, very pretty." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Mr. Furnivale, "they <i>are</i> pretty. And they are now +rare. These are really old, and the imitation ones, which they make in +plenty, are not half so curious. Cecy thought they would take a +child's fancy." +</p> + +<p> +"More than a <i>child's</i>," said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. "I think +they are lovely—and what a pretty ornament they will be—fancy them +on a white dress!" +</p> + +<p> +"I am only sorry I have not two of them," said Mr. Furnivale, "or at +least <i>something</i> else for the other little girl. You would not +wish me, I suppose, to give the necklace to Beata instead of to Rosy?" +he added. +</p> + +<p> +Now Mrs. Vincent's own feeling was almost that she <i>would</i> better +like it to be given to Beata. She was very unselfish, and her natural +thought was that in anything of the kind, Bee, the little stranger, +the child in her care, whose mother was so far away, should come +first. But there was more to think of than this feeling of hers— +</p> + +<p> +"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to +let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that +terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo +the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply +and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw +the children still more together." +</p> + +<p> +So she looked up at Mr. Furnivale with her pretty honest eyes—Rosy's +eyes were honest too—and like her mother's when she was sweet and +good—and said frankly, +</p> + +<p> +"You won't think me selfish I am sure—I think you will believe that I +do it from good motives—when I ask you not to change, but still to +give it to Rosy. I will take care that little Bee does not suffer for +it in the end." +</p> + +<p> +"And I too," said Mr. Furnivale, "If I <i>can</i> find another +necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send +it—indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for +one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did +buy it for your own little girl." +</p> + +<p> +"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr. +Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the +lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked +towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and +Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were +playing, I should have said Beata and Felix—not Rosy). "I daresay she +will be going to scold me, now luncheon's over. I wish that ugly old +Mr. Furniture would go away," for all the cross, angry, jealous +thoughts had come back to poor Rosy since she had taken it into her +head again about Bee being put before her, and all her good wishes and +plans, which had grown stronger through her mother's gentleness, had +again flown away, like a flock of frightened white doves, looking back +at her with sad eyes as they flew. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's good angel, however, was very patient with her that day. Again +she was to be tried with <i>kindness</i> instead of harshness; surely +this time it would succeed. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy dear," said her mother, quite brightly, for she had not noticed +Rosy's cross looks at dinner, and she felt a natural pleasure in the +thought of her child's pleasure, "Mr. Furnivale—or perhaps I should +say <i>Miss</i> Furnivale—whom we all speak of as "Cecy," you know, +has sent you such a pretty present. See, dear—you have never, I +think, had anything so pretty," and she held up the lovely beads +before Rosy's dazzled eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed the little girl, her whole face lighting +up, "O mamma, how very pretty! And they are for <i>me</i>. Oh, how +very kind of Miss Furni—of Miss Cecy," she went on, turning to the +old gentleman, "Will you please thank her for me <i>very</i> much?" +</p> + +<p> +No one could look prettier or sweeter than Rosy at this moment, and +Mr. Furnivale began to think he had been mistaken in thinking the +little Vincent girl a much less lovable child than his old friend +Beata Warwick. +</p> + +<p> +"How very, very pretty," she repeated, touching the beads softly with +her little fingers. And then with a sudden change she turned to her +mother. +</p> + +<p> +"Is there a necklace for Bee, too?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent's first feeling was of pleasure that Rosy should think of +her little friend, but there was in the child's face a look that made +her not sure that the question <i>was</i> quite out of kindness to +Bee, and the mother's voice was a little grave and sad, as she +answered. +</p> + +<p> +"No, Rosy. There is not one for Bee. Mr. Furnivale brought it for you +only." +</p> + +<p> +Then Rosy's face was a curious study. There was a sort of pleasure in +it—and this, I must truly say, was not pleasure that Bee had +<i>not</i> a present also, for Rosy was not greedy or even selfish in +the common way, but it was pleasure at being put first, and joined to +this pleasure was a nice honest sorrow that Bee was left out. Now that +Rosy was satisfied that she herself was properly treated she found +time to think of Bee. And though the necklace had been six times as +pretty, though it had been all pearls or diamonds, it would not have +given Mrs. Vincent half the pleasure that this look of real unselfish +sorrow in Rosy's face sent through her heart. More still, when the +little girl, bending to her mother, whispered softly, +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma, would it be right of me to give it to Bee? I wouldn't mind +very much." +</p> + +<p> +"No, darling, no; but I am <i>very</i> glad you thought of it. We will +do something to make up for it to Bee." And she added aloud, +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Furnivale may <i>perhaps</i> be able to get one something like it +for Bee, when he goes back to Italy." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I may show it to her. It won't be unkind to show it her?" asked +Rosy. And when her mother said "No, it would not be unkind," feeling +sure, with her faith in Bee's goodness that Rosy's pleasure would be +met with the heartiest sympathy—for "sympathy," dears, can be shown +to those about us in their joys as well as in their sorrows—Rosy ran +off in the highest spirits. Mr. Furnivale smiled as he saw her +delight, and Mrs. Vincent was, oh so pleased to be able to tell him, +that Rosy, of herself, had offered to give it to Bee, that that was +what she had been whispering about. +</p> + +<p> +"Not that Beata would have been willing to take it," she added, "she +is the most unselfish child possible." +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: 'DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?' ROSY +REPEATED.] +</p> + +<p> +"And unselfishness is sometimes, catching, luckily for poor human +nature," said the old gentleman, laughing. And Mrs. Vincent laughed +too—the whole world seemed to have grown brighter to her since the +little gleam she believed she had had of true gold at the bottom of +Rosy's wayward little heart. +</p> + +<p> +And Rosy ran gleefully off to her friend. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee, Bee," she cried, "stop playing, do. I have something to show +you. And you too, Fixie, you may come and see it if you like. See," as +the two children ran up to her breathlessly, and she opened the box, +"see," and she held up the lovely necklace, lovelier than ever as it +glittered in the sunshine, every colour seeming to mix in with the +others and yet to stand out separate in the most beautiful way. "Did +you <i>ever</i> see anything so pretty, Bee?" Rosy repeated. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Never</i>," said Beata, with her whole heart in her voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Nebber," echoed Fixie, his blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual. +</p> + +<p> +"And is it <i>yours</i>, Rosy?" asked Bee. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes mine, my very own. Mr. Furniture brought it me from—from +somewhere. I don't remember the name of the place, but I know it's +somewhere in the country that's the shape of a boot." +</p> + +<p> +"Italy," said Bee, whose geography was not quite so hazy as Rosy's. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I suppose it's Italy, but I don't care where it came from as +long as I've got it. Oh, isn't it lovely? I may wear it for best. +Won't it be pretty with a quite white frock? And, Bee, they said +something, but perhaps I shouldn't tell." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't tell it then," said Bee, whose whole attention was given to the +necklace. "O Rosy, I <i>am</i> so glad you've got such a pretty thing. +Don't you feel happy?" and she looked up with such pleasure in her +eyes that Rosy's heart was touched. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the +least bit vexed, Bee, that <i>you</i> haven't got it, or at least that +you haven't got one like it?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata looked up with real surprise. +</p> + +<p> +"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy +dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of +such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not +my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll +let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads +gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours! +Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly <i>pitty</i>. I could fancy I saw +fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly +kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them." +</p> + +<p> +"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of +calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and +the corners of his mouth went down. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try +some day and see if we can hear any stories—any way we could fancy +them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I +think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right. +Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your +mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't <i>think</i> how pretty it looks." +</p> + +<p> +Off ran the three children, and Mrs. Vincent, as she saw them coming, +was pleased to see, as she expected, the brightness of Rosy's face +reflected in Beata's. +</p> + +<p> +"Mother," whispered Rosy, "I didn't say anything to Bee about her +perhaps getting one too. It was better not, wasn't it? It would be +nicer to be a surprise." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I think it would. Any way it is better to say nothing about it +just yet, as we are not at all <i>sure</i> of it, you know. Does Bee +think the beads very pretty, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Very</i>," said Rosy, "but she isn't the least <i>bit</i> vexed +for me to have them and not her. She's <i>quite</i> happy, mamma." +</p> + +<p> +"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Vincent, "and so are you, my Rosy, +when you let yourself <i>be</i> your best self. Rosy," she went on, "I +have a sort of feeling that this pretty necklace will be a kind of +<i>talisman</i> to you—perhaps it is silly of me to say it, but the +idea came into my mind—I was so glad that you offered to give it up +to Bee, and I am so glad for you really to see for yourself how sweet +and unselfish Bee is about it. Do you know what a talisman is?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, mamma," said Rosy, with great satisfaction. "Papa explained it +to me one day when I read it in a book. It is a kind of charm, isn't +it, mamma?—a kind of nice fairy charm. You mean that I should be so +pleased with the necklace, mamma, that it should make me feel happy +and good whenever I see it, and that I should remember, too, how nice +Bee has been about it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear," said her mother. "If it makes you feel like that, it +<i>will</i> be a talisman." +</p> + +<p> +And feeling remarkably pleased with herself and everybody else, Rosy +ran off. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Furnivale left the next day, but not without promises of another +visit before very long. +</p> + +<p> +"When Cecy will come with you," said Mrs. Vincent. +</p> + +<p> +"And give her my bestest love," said Fixie. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, indeed, my little man," said Mr. Furnivale, "and I'll tell her +too that she would scarcely know you again—so fat and rosy!" +</p> + +<p> +"And my love, please," said Beata, "I would <i>so</i> like to see her +again." +</p> + +<p> +"And mine," added Rosy. "And please tell her how <i>dreadfully</i> +pleased I am with the beads." +</p> + +<p> +And then the kind old gentleman drove away. +</p> + +<p> +For some time after this it really seemed as if Rosy's mother's half +fanciful idea was coming true. There was such a great improvement in +Rosy—she seemed so much happier in herself, and to care so much more +about making other people happy too. +</p> + +<p> +"I really think the necklace <i>is</i> a talisman," said Mrs. Vincent, +laughing, to Rosy's father one day. +</p> + +<p> +Not that Rosy always wore it. It was kept for dress occasions, but to +her great delight her mother let her take care of it herself, instead +of putting it away with the gold chain and locket her aunt had given +her on her last birthday, and the pearl ring her other godmother had +sent her, which was much too large for her small fingers at present, +and her ivory-bound prayer-book, and various other treasures to be +enjoyed by her when she should be "a big girl." And many an hour the +children amused themselves with the lovely beads, examining them till +they knew every one separately. They even, I believe, had a name for +each, and Fixie had a firm belief that inside each crystal ball a +little fairy dwelt, and that every moonlight night all these fairies +came out and danced about Rosy's room, though he never could manage to +keep awake to see them. +</p> + +<p> +Altogether, there was no end to the pretty fancies and amusement which +the children got from "Mr. Furniture's present." +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER VIII. +</h3> + +<h3> +HARD TO BEAR. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Give unto me, made lowly-wise,<br /> + The spirit of self-sacrifice."<br /> + —ODE TO DUTY.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +For some weeks things went on very happily. Of course there were +little troubles among the children sometimes, but compared with a +while ago the nursery was now a very comfortable and peaceful place. +</p> + +<p> +Martha was quietly pleased, but she had too much sense to say much +about it. Miss Pink was so delighted, that if Bee had not been a +modest and sensible little girl, Miss Pink's over praise of her, as +the cause of all this improvement, might have undone all the good. Not +that Miss Pink was not ready to praise Rosy too, and in a way that +would have done her no good either, if Rosy had cared enough for her +to think much of her praise or her blame. But one word or look even +from her mother was getting to be more to Rosy than all the +good-natured little governess's chatter; a nice smile from Martha +even, she felt to mean <i>really</i> more, and one of Beata's sweet, +bright kisses would sometimes find its way straight to Rosy's queerly +hidden-away heart. +</p> + +<p> +"You see, Rosy, it <i>does</i> get easier," Bee ventured to say one +day. She looked up a little anxiously to see how Rosy would take it, +for since the night she had found Rosy sobbing in bed they had never +again talked together quite so openly. Indeed, Rosy was not a person +whose confidence was easy to gain. But she was honest—that was the +best of her. +</p> + +<p> +She looked up quickly when Bee spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she said, "I think it's getting easier. But you see, Bee, there +have only been nice things lately. If anything was to come to vex me +very much, I daresay it would be just like it used to be again. +There's not even been Colin to tease me for a long time!" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's way of talking of herself puzzled Bee, though she couldn't +quite explain it. It was right, she knew, for Rosy not to feel too +sure of herself, but still she went too far that way. She almost +talked as if she had nothing to do with her own faults, that they must +come or not come like rainy days. +</p> + +<p> +"What are you thinking, Bee?" she said, as Bee did not answer at once. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't tell you quite how I mean, for I don't know it myself," said +Bee. "Only I think you are a little wrong. You should try to say, 'If +things come to vex me, I'll <i>try</i> not to be vexed.'" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +"No," she said, "I can't say that, for I don't think I should +<i>want</i> to try," and Beata felt she could not say any more, only +she very much hoped that things to vex Rosy would <i>not</i> come! +</p> + +<p> +The first thing at all out of the common that did come was, or was +going to be, perhaps I should say, a very nice thing. A note came one +day to Rosy's mother to say that a lady, a friend of hers living a few +miles off, wanted to see her, to talk over a plan she had in her head +for a birthday treat to her two little daughters. These two children +were twins; they were a little younger than Rosy, and she did not know +them <i>very</i> well, as they lived some way off; but Mrs. Vincent +had often wished they could meet oftener, as they were very nice and +good children. +</p> + +<p> +And when Lady Esther had been, and had had her talk with Rosy's +mother, she looked in at the schoolroom a moment in passing, and +kissed the little girls, smiling, and seeming very pleased, for she +was so kind that nothing pleased her so much as to give pleasure to +others. +</p> + +<p> +"Your mother will tell you what we have been settling," she said, +nodding her head and looking very mysterious. +</p> + +<p> +And that afternoon Mrs. Vincent told the children all about it. Lady +Esther was going to have a fête for the twins' birthday—a +garden-fête, for it was to be hoped by that time the weather could be +counted upon, and all the children were to have fancy dresses! That +was to be the best fun of it all. Not very grand or expensive dresses, +and nothing which would make them uncomfortable, or prevent their +running about freely. Lady Esther's idea was that the children should +be dressed in <i>sets</i>, which would look very pretty when they came +into the big hall to dance before leaving. Lady Esther had proposed +that Rosy and Bee should be dressed as the pretty French queen, Marie +Antoinette, whom no doubt you have heard of, and her sister-in-law the +good princess, Madame Elizabeth. Fixie was to be the little prince, +and Lady Esther's youngest little girl the young princess, while the +twins were to be two maids of honour. But Rosy's mother had said she +would like better for her little girls to be the maids of honour, and +the twins to be the queen and princess, which seemed quite right, as +the party was to be in their house. And so it was settled. +</p> + +<p> +A few days later Lady Esther sent over sketches of the dresses she +proposed to have, and the children were greatly pleased and +interested. +</p> + +<p> +"May I wear my beads, mamma?" asked Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"I daresay you can," she said, and Rosy clapped her hands with +delight, and everything seemed as happy as possible. +</p> + +<p> +"But remember," said Mrs. Vincent, "it is still quite a month off. Do +not talk or think about it <i>too</i> much, or you will tire yourselves +out in fancy before the real pleasure comes." +</p> + +<p> +This was good advice. Bee tried to follow it by doing her lessons as +usual, and giving the same attention to them. But Rosy, with some of +her old self-will, would not leave off talking about the promised +treat. She was tiresome and careless at her lessons, and Miss Pink was +not firm enough to check her. Morning, noon, and night, Rosy went on +about the fete, most of all about the dresses, till Bee sometimes +wished the birthday treat had never been thought of, or at least that +Rosy had never been told of it. +</p> + +<p> +One morning when the children came down to see Mr. and Mrs. Vincent at +their breakfast, which they often were allowed to do, though they +still had their own breakfast earlier than the big people, in the +nursery with Martha, Beata noticed that Rosy's mother looked grave and +rather troubled. Bee took no notice of it, however, except that when +she kissed her, she said softly, +</p> + +<p> +"Are you not quite well, auntie?" for so Rosy's mother liked her to +call her. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, dear, I am quite well," she answered, though rather wearily, +and a few minutes after, when Mr. Vincent had gone out to speak to +some of the servants, she called Rosy and Bee to come to her. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy and Bee," she said kindly but gravely, "do you remember my +advising you not to talk or to think too much about Lady Esther's +treat?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee, and "Yes," said Rosy, though in a rather sulky tone +of voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, I should not have had to remind you both of my advice. I +am really sorry to have to find fault about anything to do with the +birthday party. I wanted it to have been nothing but pleasure to you. +But Miss Pink has told me she does not know what to do with you—that +you are so careless and inattentive, and constantly chattering about +Lady Esther's plan, and that at last she felt she must tell me." +</p> + +<p> +Bee felt her cheeks grow red. Mrs. Vincent thought she felt ashamed, +but it was not shame. Poor Bee, she had <i>never</i> before felt as +she did just now. It was not true—how could Miss Pink have said so of +her? She knew it was not true, and the words, "I <i>haven't</i> been +careless—I did do just what you said," were bursting out of her lips +when she stopped. What good would it do to defend herself except to +make Mrs. Vincent more vexed with Rosy, and to cause fresh bad +feelings in Rosy's heart? Would it not be better to say nothing, to +bear the blame, rather than lose the kind feelings that Rosy was +getting to have to her? All these thoughts were running through her +mind, making her feel rather puzzled and confused, for Bee did not +always see things very quickly; she needed to think them over, when, +to her surprise, Rosy looked up. +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't true," she said, not very respectfully it must be owned, "it +isn't true that Bee has been careless. If Miss Pink thinks telling +stories about Bee will make me any better, she's very silly, and I +shall just not care what she says about anything." +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent sternly, "you shall care what <i>I</i> say. +Go to your room and stay there, and you, Beata, go to yours. I am +surprised that you should encourage Rosy in her naughty contradiction, +for it is nothing else that makes her speak so of what Miss Pink felt +obliged to say of you." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy turned away with the cool sullen manner that had not been seen +for some time. Bee, choking with sobs—never, <i>never</i>, she said +to herself, not even when her mother went away, had she felt so +miserable, never had Aunt Lillias spoken to her like that before—poor +Bee rushed off to her room, and shutting the door, threw herself on +the floor and wondered <i>what</i> she should do! +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent, if she had only known it, was nearly as unhappy as she. +It was not often she allowed herself to feel worried and vexed, as she +had felt that morning, but everything had seemed to go wrong—Miss +Pink's complaints, which were <i>not</i> true, about Bee had really +grieved her. For Miss Pink had managed to make it seem that it was +mostly Bee's fault—-and she had said little things which had made +Mrs. Vincent really unhappy about Bee being so very sweet and good +before people, but not <i>really</i> so good when one saw more of her. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent would not let Miss Pink see that she minded what she +said; she would hardly own it to herself. But for all that it had left +a sting. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Can</i> I have been mistaken in Bee?" was the thought that kept +coming into her mind. For Miss Pink had mixed up truth with untruths. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Rosy,</i>" she had said, "whatever her faults, is so very honest," +which her mother knew to be true, but Mrs. Vincent did not—for she +was too honest herself to doubt other people—see that Miss Pink liked +better to throw the blame on Bee, not out of ill-will to Bee, but +because she was so very afraid that if there was any more trouble +about Rosy, she would have to leave off being her governess. +</p> + +<p> +Then this very morning too had brought a letter from Rosy's aunt, +proposing a visit for the very next week, accompanied, of course, by +the maid who had done Rosy so much harm! Poor Mrs. Vincent—it really +was trying—and she did not even like to tell Rosy's father how much +she dreaded his sister's visit. For Aunt Edith had meant and wished to +be so truly kind to Rosy that it seemed ungrateful not to be glad to +see her. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy and Bee were left in their rooms till some time later than the +usual school-hour, for Mrs. Vincent, wanting them to think over what +she had said, told Miss Pink to give Fixie his lessons first, and +then, before sending for the little girls to come down, she had a talk +with Miss Pink. +</p> + +<p> +"I have spoken to both Rosy and Bee very seriously, and told them of +your complaints," she said. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Pink grew rather red and looked uncomfortable. +</p> + +<p> +"I should be sorry for them to think I complained out of any +unkindness," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"It is not unkindness. It is only telling the truth to answer me when +I ask how they have been getting on," said Mrs. Vincent, rather +coldly. "Besides I myself saw how very badly Rosy's exercises were +written. I am very disappointed about Beata," she added, looking Miss +Pink straight in the face, and it seemed to her that the little +governess grew again red. "I can only hope they will both do better +now." +</p> + +<p> +Then Rosy and Bee were sent for. Rosy came in with a hard look on her +face. Bee's eyes were swollen with crying, and she seemed as if she +dared not look at her aunt, but she said nothing. Mrs. Vincent +repeated to them what she had just said about hoping they would do +better. +</p> + +<p> +"I will do my best," said Beata tremblingly, for she felt as if +another word would make her burst out crying again. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I am sure they are both going to be very good little girls now," +said Miss Pink, in her silly, fussy way, as if she was in a hurry to +change the subject, which indeed she was. +</p> + +<p> +Bee raised her poor red eyes, and looked at her quietly, and Mrs. +Vincent saw the look. Rosy, who had not yet spoken, muttered +something, but so low that nobody could quite hear it; only the words +"stories" and "not true" were heard. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said her mother very severely, "be silent!" and soon after she +left the room. +</p> + +<p> +The schoolroom party was not a very cheerful one this morning, but +things went on quietly. Miss Pink was plainly uncomfortable, and made +several attempts to make friends, as it were, with Bee. Bee answered +gently, but that was all, and as soon as lessons were over she went +quietly upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Two days after, Miss Vincent arrived. Rosy was delighted to hear she +was coming, and her pleasure in it seemed to make her forget about +Bee's undeserved troubles. So poor Bee had to try to forget them +herself. Her lessons were learnt and written without a fault—it was +impossible for Miss Pink to find anything to blame; and indeed she did +not wish to do so, or to be unkind, to Beata, so long as things went +smoothly with Rosy. And for these two days everything was very smooth. +Rosy did not want to be in disgrace when her aunt came, and she, too, +did her best, so that the morning of the day when Miss Vincent was +expected, Miss Pink told the children, with a most amiable face, that +she would be able to give a very good report of them to Rosy's mother. +</p> + +<p> +Bee said nothing. Rosy, turning round, saw the strange, half-sad look +on Bee's face, and it came back into her mind how unhappy her little +friend had been, and how little she had deserved to be so. And in her +heart, too, Rosy knew that in reality it was owing to <i>her</i> that +Beata had suffered, and a sudden feeling of sorrow rushed over her, +and, to Miss Pink's and Bee's astonishment, she burst out, +</p> + +<p> +"You may say what you like of me to mamma, Miss Pink. It is true I +have done my lessons well for two days, and it is true I did them +badly before. But if you can't tell the truth about Bee, it would be +much better for you to say nothing at all." +</p> + +<p> +Miss Pink grew pinker than usual, and she was opening her lips to +speak, when Beata interrupted her. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't say anything, Miss Pink," she said. "It's no good. <i>I</i> +have said nothing, and—and I'll try to forget—you know what. I don't +want there to be any more trouble. It doesn't matter for me. O Rosy +dear," she went on entreatingly, "<i>don't</i> say anything more that +might make more trouble, and vex your mamma with you, just as your +aunt's coming. Oh, <i>don't</i>." +</p> + +<p> +She put her arms round Rosy as if she would have held her back, Rosy +only looking half convinced. But in her heart Rosy <i>was</i> very +anxious not to be in any trouble when her aunt came. She didn't quite +explain to herself why. Some of the reasons were good, and some were +not very good. One of the best was, I think, that she didn't want her +mother to be more vexed, or to have the fresh vexation of her aunt +seeming to think—as she very likely would, if there was any excuse +for it—that Rosy was less good under her mother's care than she had +been in Miss Vincent's. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy was learning truly to love, and what, for her nature, was almost +of more consequence, really to <i>trust</i> her mother, and a feeling +of <i>loyalty</i>—if you know what that beautiful word means, dear +children,—I hope you do—was beginning for the first time to grow in +her cross-grained, suspicious little heart. Then, again, for her own +sake, Rosy wished all to be smooth when her aunt and Nelson arrived, +which was not a <i>bad</i> feeling, if not a very good or unselfish +one. And then, again, she did not want to have any trouble connected +with Bee. She knew her Aunt Edith had not liked the idea of Bee +coming, and that if she fancied the little stranger was the cause of +any worry to her darling she would try to get her sent away. And Rosy +did not now <i>at all</i> want Bee to be sent away! +</p> + +<p> +These different feelings were all making themselves heard rather +confusedly in her heart, and she hardly knew what to answer to Bee's +appeal, when Miss Pink came to the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee is right, Rosy," she said, her rather dolly-looking face flushing +again. "It is much better to leave things. You may trust me to—to +speak very kindly of—of you <i>both</i>. And if I was—at all +mistaken in what I said of you the other day, Bee—perhaps you had +been trying more than I—than I gave you credit for—I'm very sorry. +If I can say anything to put it right, I will. But it is very +difficult to—to tell things quite correctly sometimes. I had been +worried and vexed, and then Mrs. Vincent rather startled me by asking +me about you, Rosy, and by something she said about my not managing +you well. And—oh, I don't know <i>what</i> we would do, my mother and +I, if I lost this nice situation!" she burst out suddenly, forgetting +everything else in her distress. "And poor mamma has been <i>so</i> +ill lately, I've often scarcely slept all night. I daresay I've been +cross sometimes"—and Miss Pink finished up by bursting into tears. +Her distress gave the finishing touch to Bee's determination to bear +the undeserved blame. +</p> + +<p> +"No, poor Miss Pink," she said, running round to the little +governess's side of the table, "I <i>don't</i> think you are cross. I +shouldn't mind if you were a little sometimes. And I know we are often +troublesome—aren't we, Rosy?" Rosy gave a little grunt, which was a +good deal for her, and showed that her feelings, too, were touched. +"But just then I <i>had</i> been trying. Aunt Lillias had spoken to us +about it, and I <i>did</i> want to please her"—and the unbidden tears +rose to Bee's eyes. "Please, Miss Pink, don't think I don't know when +I <i>am</i> to blame, but—but you won't speak that way of me another +time when I've not been to blame." A sort of smothered sob here came +from Miss Pink, as a match to Rosy's grunt. "And <i>please</i>," Bee +went on, "don't say <i>anything</i> more about that time to Aunt +Lillias. It's done now, and it would only make fresh trouble." +</p> + +<p> +That it would make trouble for <i>her</i>, Miss Pink felt convinced, +and she was not very difficult to persuade to take Bee's advice. +</p> + +<p> +"It would indeed bring <i>me</i> trouble," she thought, as she walked +home more slowly than usual that the fresh air might take away the +redness from her eyes before her mother saw her. "I know Mrs. Vincent +would never forgive me if she thought I had exaggerated or +misrepresented. I'm sure I didn't want to blame Bee; but I was so +startled; and Mrs. Vincent seemed to think so much less of it when I +let her suppose they had <i>both</i> been careless and tiresome. But +it has been a lesson to me. And Beata is <i>very</i> good. I could +never say a word against her again." +</p> + +<p> +Miss Vincent arrived, and with her, of course, her maid Nelson. +Everything went off most pleasantly the first evening. Aunt Edith +seemed delighted to see Rosy again, and that was only kind and +natural. And she said to every one how well Rosy was looking, and how +much she was grown, and said, too, how nice it was for her to have a +companion of her own age. She had been so pleased to hear about little +Miss Warwick from Cecy Furnivale, whom she had seen lately. +</p> + +<p> +Bee stared rather at this. She hardly knew herself under the name of +little Miss Warwick; but she answered Miss Vincent's questions in her +usual simple way, and told Rosy, when they went up to bed, that she +did not wonder she loved her aunt—she seemed so very kind. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy. Then she sat still for a minute or two, as if she +was thinking over something very deeply. "I don't think I'd like to go +back to live with auntie," she said at last. +</p> + +<p> +"To leave your mother! No, <i>of course</i> you wouldn't," exclaimed +Bee, as if there could be no doubt about the matter. +</p> + +<p> +"But I did think once I would," said Rosy, nodding her head—"I did." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't believe you really did," said Bee calmly. "Perhaps you +<i>thought</i> you did when you were vexed about something." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I don't see much difference between wanting a thing, and +<i>thinking</i> you want it," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +This was one of the speeches which Bee did not find it very easy to +answer all at once, so she told Rosy she would think it over in her +dreams, for she was very sleepy, and she was sure Aunt Lillias would +be vexed if they didn't go to bed quickly. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER IX. +</h3> + +<h3> +THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "And the former called the latter 'little Prig.'"—EMERSON.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +"And how well that sweet child is looking, Nelson," said Miss Vincent +that evening to her maid as she was brushing her hair. +</p> + +<p> +"I am glad you think so, ma'am," replied Nelson, in a rather queer +tone of voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what do you mean?" said Miss Vincent. "Do <i>you</i> not think +so? To be sure it was by candlelight, and I am very near-sighted, but +I don't think any one could say that she looks ill. She is both taller +and stouter." +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps so, ma'am. I wasn't thinking so much of her healthfulness. +With the care that <i>was</i> taken of her, she couldn't but be a fine +child. But it's her <i>feelin's</i>, ma'am, that seems to be so +changed. All her spirits, her lovely high spirits, gone! Why, this +evening, that Martha—or whatever they call her—a' upsetting thing +<i>I</i> call her—spoke to her that short about having left the +nursery door open because Master Fixie chose to fancy he was cold, +that I wonder any young lady would take it. And Miss Rosy, bless her, +up she got and shut it as meek as meek, and 'I'm very sorry, Martha—I +forgot,' she said. I couldn't believe my ears. I could have cried to +see her so kept down like. And she's so quiet and so grave." +</p> + +<p> +"She is certainly quieter than she used to be," said Miss Vincent, +"but surely she can't be unhappy. She would have told me—and I +thought it was so nice for her to have that little companion." +</p> + +<p> +"Umph," said Nelson. She had a way of her own of saying "umph" that it +is impossible to describe. Then in a minute or two she went on again. +"Well, ma'am, you know I'm one as must speak my mind. And the truth is +I <i>don't</i> like that Miss Bee, as they call her, at all. She's far +too good, by way of being too good, I mean, for a child. Give me Miss +Rosy's tempers and fidgets—I'd rather have them than those +smooth-faced ways. And she's come round Miss Rosy somehow. Why, ma'am, +you'd hardly believe it, she'd hardly a word for me when she first saw +me. It was 'Good-evening, Nelson. How do you do?' as cool like as +could be. And it was all that Miss Bee's doing. I saw Miss Rosy look +round at her like to see what she thought of it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, well, Nelson," said Miss Vincent, quite vexed and put out, "I +don't see what is to be done. We can't take the child away from her +own parents. All the same, I'm very glad to have come to see for +myself, and if I find out anything not nice about that child, I shall +stand upon no ceremony, I assure you," and with this Nelson had to be +content. +</p> + +<p> +It was true that Rosy had met Nelson very coldly. As I have told you +before, Rosy was by no means clever at <i>pretending</i>, and a very +good thing it is <i>not</i> to be so. She had come to take a dislike +to Nelson, and to wonder how she could ever have been so under her. +Especially now that she was learning to love and trust Beata, she did +not like to let her know how many wrong and jealous ideas Nelson had +put in her head, and so before Beata she was very cold to the maid. +But in this Rosy was wrong. Nelson had taught her much that had done +her harm, but still she had been, or had meant to be, very good and +kind to Rosy, and Rosy owed her for this real gratitude. It was a +pity, too, for Bee's sake that Rosy had been so cold and stiff to +Nelson, for on Bee, Nelson laid all the blame of it, and the harm did +not stop here, as you will see. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Vincent never got up early, and the next morning passed as usual. +But she sent for Rosy to come to her room while she was dressing, +after the morning lessons were over, which prevented the two little +girls having their usual hour's play in the garden, and Beata wandered +about rather sadly, feeling as if Rosy was being taken away from her. +At luncheon Rosy came in holding her aunt's hand and looking very +pleased. +</p> + +<p> +"You don't know what lovely things auntie's been giving me," she said +to Bee as she passed her. "And Nelson's making me such a +<i>beautiful</i> apron—the newest fashion." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson had managed to get into Rosy's favour again—that was clear. +Beata did not think this to herself. She was too simple and +kind-hearted to think anything except that it was natural for Rosy to +be glad to see her old nurse again, though Bee had a feeling somehow +that she didn't much care for Nelson and that Nelson didn't care for +her! +</p> + +<p> +"By-the-bye, Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent, in the middle of luncheon, "did +you show your aunt your Venetian beads?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Miss Vincent, answering for Rosy, "she did, and great +beauties they are." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Nelson</i> didn't think so—at least not at first," said Rosy, +rather spitefully. She had always had a good deal of spite at Nelson, +even long ago, when Nelson had had so much power of her. "Nelson said +they were glass trash, till auntie explained to her." +</p> + +<p> +"She didn't understand what they were," said Miss Vincent, seeming a +little annoyed. "She thinks them beautiful now." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes <i>now</i>, because she knows they must have cost a lot of +money," persisted Rosy. "Nelson never thinks anything pretty that +doesn't cost a lot." +</p> + +<p> +These remarks were not pleasant to Miss Vincent. She knew that Mrs. +Vincent thought Nelson too free in her way of speaking, and she did +not like any of her rather impertinent sayings to be told over. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," she thought to herself, "I think it is quite a mistake +that Rosy is too much kept down," but just as she was thinking this, +Rosy's mother looked up and said to her quietly, "Rosy, I don't think +you should talk so much. And you, Bee, are almost too silent!" she +added, smiling at Beata, for she had a feeling that since Miss +Vincent's arrival Bee looked rather lonely. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy's aunt, "we don't hear your voice at all, Miss Beata. +You're not like my chatter-box Rosy, who always must say out what she +thinks." +</p> + +<p> +The words sounded like a joke—there was nothing in them to vex Bee, +but something in the tone in which they were said made the little girl +grow red and hot. +</p> + +<p> +"I—I was listening to all of you," she said quietly. She was anxious +to say something, not to seem to Mrs. Vincent as if she was cross or +vexed. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy's mother. "Rosy and her aunt have a great deal to say +to each other after being so long without meeting," and Miss Vincent +looked pleased at this, as Rosy's mother meant her to be. +</p> + +<p> +"By-the-bye," continued Mrs. Vincent, "has Rosy told you all about the +fête there is going to be at Summerlands?" Summerlands was the name of +Lady Esther's house. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes," said Miss Vincent, "and very charming it will be, no doubt, +only <i>I</i> should have liked my pet to be the queen, as she tells +me was at first proposed." +</p> + +<p> +This was what Mrs. Vincent thought one of Aunt Edith's silly speeches, +and Rosy could not help wishing when she heard it that she had not +told her aunt that her being the queen had been thought of at all. She +looked a little uncomfortable, and her mother, glancing at her, +understood her feelings and felt sorry for her. +</p> + +<p> +"I think it is better as it is," she said. "Would you like to hear +about the dresses Rosy and Bee are to wear?" she went on. "I think +they will be very pretty. Lady Esther has ordered them in London with +her own little girls'." And then she told Miss Vincent all about the +dresses, so that Rosy's uncomfortable feeling went away, and she felt +grateful to her mother. +</p> + +<p> +After luncheon the little girls went out together in the garden. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm so glad to be together again," said Bee, "it seems to me as if I +had hardly seen you to-day, Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +"What nonsense!" said Rosy. "Why, I was only in auntie's room for +about a quarter of an hour after Miss Pink went." +</p> + +<p> +"A quarter of an hour," said Bee. "No indeed, Rosy. You were more than +an hour, I am sure. I was reading to Fixie in the nursery, for he's +got a cold and he mayn't go out, and you don't know what a great lot I +read. And oh, Rosy, Fixie wants so to know if he may have your beads +this afternoon, just to hold in his hand and look at. He can't hurt +them." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," said Rosy. "He may have them for half an hour or so, but +not longer." +</p> + +<p> +"Shall I go and give them to him now?" said Bee, ready to run off. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, he won't need them just yet. Let's have a run first. Let's see +which of us will get to the middle bush first—you go right and I'll +go left." +</p> + +<p> +This race round the lawn was a favourite one with the children. They +were playing merrily, laughing and calling to each other, when a +messenger was seen coming to them from the house. It was Samuel the +footman. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Rosy," he said as he came within hearing, "you must please to +come in <i>at onst</i>. Miss Vincent is going a drive and you are to +go with her." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" exclaimed Rosy, "I don't think I want to go." +</p> + +<p> +"I think you must," said Bee, though she could not help sighing a +little. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Vincent is going to Summerlands," said Samuel. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, then I <i>do</i> want to go," said Rosy. "Never mind, Bee—I wish +you were going too. But I'll tell you all I hear about the party when +I come' back. But I'm sorry you're not going." +</p> + +<p> +She kissed Bee as she ran off. This was a good deal more than Rosy +would have done some weeks ago, and Bee, feeling this, tried to be +content. But the garden seemed dull and lonely after Rosy had gone, +and once or twice the tears would come into Bee's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"After all," she said to herself, "those little girls are much the +happiest who can always live with their own mammas and have sisters +and brothers of their own, and then there can't be strange aunts who +are not their aunts." But then she thought to herself how much better +it was for her than for many little girls whose mothers had to be away +and who were sent to school, where they had no such kind friend as +Mrs. Vincent. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go in and read to Fixie," she then decided, and she made her way +to the house. +</p> + +<p> +Passing along the passage by the door of Rosy's room, it came into her +mind that she might as well get the beads for Fixie which Rosy had +given leave for. She went in—the room was rather in confusion, for +Rosy had been dressing in a hurry for her drive—but Bee knew where +the beads were kept, and, opening the drawer, she found them easily. +She was going away with them in her hand when a sharp voice startled +her. It was Nelson. Bee had not noticed that she was in a corner of +the room hanging up some of Rosy's things, for, much to Martha's +vexation, Nelson was very fond of coming into Rosy's room and helping +her to dress. +</p> + +<p> +"What are you doing in Miss Rosy's drawers?" said Nelson; and Bee, +from surprise at her tone and manner, felt herself get red, and her +voice trembled a little as she answered. +</p> + +<p> +"I was getting something for Master Fixie—something for him to play +with." And she held up the necklace. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson looked at her still in a way that was not at all nice. "And who +said you might?" she said next. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy—<i>of course</i>, Miss Rosy herself," said Bee, opening her +eyes, "I would not take anything of hers without her leave." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson gave a sort of grunt. But she had an ill-will at the pretty +beads, because she had called them rubbish, not knowing what they +were; so she said nothing more, and Bee went quietly away, not hearing +the words Nelson muttered to herself, "Sly little thing. I don't like +those quiet ways." +</p> + +<p> +When Bee got to the nursery, she was very glad she had come. Fixie was +sitting in a corner looking very desolate, for Martha was busy looking +over the linen, as it was Saturday, and his head was "a'ting +dedfully," he said. He brightened up when he saw Bee and what she had +brought, and for more than an hour the two children sat perfectly +happy and content examining the wonderful beads, and making up little +fanciful stories about the fairies who were supposed to live in them. +Then when Fixie seemed to have had enough of the beads, Bee and he +took them back to Rosy's room and put them carefully away, and then +returned to the nursery, where they set to work to make a house with +the chairs and Fixie's little table. The nursery was not carpeted all +over—that is to say, round the edge of the room the wood of the floor +was left bare, for this made it more easy to lift the carpet often and +shake it on the grass, which is a very good thing, especially in a +nursery. The house was an old one, and so the wood floor was not very +pretty; here and there it was rather uneven, and there were queer +cracks in it. +</p> + +<p> +"See, Bee," said Fixie, while they were making their house, "see what +a funny place I've found in the f'oor," and he pointed to a small, +dark, round hole. It was made by what is called a knot in the wood +having dried up and dropped out long, long ago probably, for, as I +told you, the house was very old. +</p> + +<p> +"What is there down there, does you fink?" said Fixie, looking up at +Bee and then down again at the mysterious hole. "Does it go down into +the middle of the world, p'raps?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, Fixie, not so far as that, I am sure," she said. "At the most, +it can't go farther than the ceiling of the room underneath." +</p> + +<p> +Fixie looked puzzled, and Bee explained to him that there was a small +space left behind the wood planking which make the floor of one room +and the thinner boards which are the ceiling of an under room. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: 'WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?' SAID FIXIE] +</p> + +<p> +"The ceiling doesn't need to be so strong, you see," she said. "We +don't walk and jump on the ceiling, but we do on the floor, so the +ceiling boards would not be strong enough for the floor." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Fixie, "on'y the flies walks on the ceiling, and they's +not very heavy, is they, Bee? But," he went on, "I would like to see +down into this hole. If I had a long piece of 'ting I could +<i>fish</i> down into it, couldn't I, Bee? You don't fink there's +anything dedful down there, do you? Not fogs or 'nakes?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Bee, "I'm sure there are no frogs or snakes. There +<i>might</i> be some little mice." +</p> + +<p> +"Is mice the same as mouses?" said Fixie; and when Bee nodded, "Why +don't you say mouses then?" he asked, "it's a much samer word." +</p> + +<p> +"But I didn't make the words," said Bee, "one has to use them the way +that's counted right." +</p> + +<p> +But Fixie seemed rather grumbly and cross. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>I</i> like mouses," he persisted; and so, to change his ideas, Bee +went on talking about the knot hole. "We might get a stick to-morrow," +she said, "and poke it down to see how far it would go." +</p> + +<p> +"Not a 'tick," said Fixie, "it would hurt the little mouses. I didn't +say a 'tick—I said a piece of 'ting. I fink you'se welly unkind, Bee, +to hurt the poor little mouses," and he grew so very doleful about it +that Bee was quite glad when Martha called them to tea. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know what's the matter with Fixie," she said to Martha, in a +low voice. +</p> + +<p> +"He's not very well," said Martha, looking at her little boy +anxiously. But tea seemed to do Fixie good, and he grew brighter +again, so that Martha began to think there could not be much wrong. +</p> + +<p> +Nursery tea was long over before Rosy came home, and so she stayed +down in the drawing-room to have some with her mother and aunt. And +even after that she did not come back to the other children, but went +into her aunt's room to look over some things they had bought in the +little town they had passed, coming home. She just put her head in at +the nursery door, seeming in very high spirits, and called out to Bee +that she would tell her how nice it had been at Summerlands. +</p> + +<p> +But the evening went on. Fixie grew tired and cross, and Martha put +him to bed; and it was not till nearly the big people's dinner-time +that Rosy came back to the nursery, swinging her hat on her arm, and +looking rather untidy and tired too. "I think I'll go to bed," she +said. "It makes me feel funny in my head, driving so far." +</p> + +<p> +"Let me put away your hat, Miss Rosy," said Martha, "it's getting all +crushed and it's your best one." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, bother," said Rosy, and the tone was like the Rosy of some months +ago. "What does it matter? <i>You</i> won't have to pay for a new +one." +</p> + +<p> +Martha said nothing, but quietly put away the hat, which had fallen on +the floor. Bee, too, said nothing, but her heart was full. She had +been alone, except for poor little Fixie, all the afternoon; and the +last hour or so she had been patiently waiting for Rosy to come to the +nursery to tell her, as she had promised, all her adventures. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going to bed," repeated Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"Won't you stay and talk a little?" said Bee; "you said you would tell +me about Summerlands." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm too tired," said Rosy. Then suddenly she added, sharply, "What +were you doing in my drawers this afternoon?" +</p> + +<p> +"In your drawers?" repeated Bee, half stupidly, as it were. She was +not, as I have told you, very quick in catching up a meaning; she was +thoughtful and clear-headed but rather slow, and when any one spoke +sharply it made her still slower. "In your drawers, Rosy?" she said +again, for, for a moment, she forgot about having fetched the +necklace. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy, "you were in my drawers, for Nelson told me. She +said I wasn't to tell you she'd told me, but I told her I would. I +don't like mean ways. But I'd just like to know what you were doing +among my things." +</p> + +<p> +It all came back to Bee now. +</p> + +<p> +"I only went to fetch the beads for Fixie," she said, her voice +trembling. "You said I might." +</p> + +<p> +"And did you put them back again? And did you not touch anything +else?" Rosy went on. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course I put them back, and—<i>of course</i> I didn't touch +anything else," exclaimed Bee. "Rosy, how can you, how dare you speak +to me like that? As if I would steal your things. You have no +<i>right</i> to speak that way, and Nelson is a bad, horrible woman. I +will tell your mother all about it to-morrow morning." +</p> + +<p> +And bursting into tears, Beata ran out of the nursery to take refuge +in her own room. Nor would she come out or speak to Rosy when she +knocked at the door and begged her to do so. But she let Martha in to +help her to undress, and listened gently to the good nurse's advice +not to take Miss Rosy's unkindness to heart. +</p> + +<p> +"She's sorry for it already," said Martha. "And, though perhaps I +shouldn't say it, you can see for yourself, Miss Bee dear, that it's +not herself, as one may say." And Martha gave a sigh. "I'm sorry for +Miss Rosy's mamma," she added, as she bid Bee good-night. And the +words went home to Bee's loving, grateful little heart. It was very +seldom, very seldom indeed, that unkind or ungentle thoughts or +feelings rested there. Never hardly in all her life had Beata given +way to anger as she had done that afternoon. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER X. +</h3> + +<h3> +STINGS FOR BEE. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "And I will look up the chimney,<br /> + And into the cupboard to make quite sure."<br /> + —AUTHOR OF LILLIPUT LEVEE.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +Fixie was not quite well the next morning, as Martha had hoped he +would be. Still he did not seem ill enough to stay in bed, so she +dressed him as usual. But at breakfast he rested his head on his hand, +looking very doleful, "very sorry for himself," as Scotch people say. +And Martha, though she tried to cheer him up, was evidently anxious. +</p> + +<p> +Mother came up to see him after breakfast, and she looked less uneasy +than Martha. +</p> + +<p> +"It's only a cold, I fancy," she said, but when Martha followed her +out of the room and reminded her of all the children's illnesses Fixie +had <i>not</i> had, and which often look like a cold at the beginning, +she agreed that it might be better to send for the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you any commissions for Blackthorpe?" she said to Miss Vincent +when she, Aunt Edith, came down to the drawing-room, a little earlier +than usual that morning. "I am going to send to ask the doctor to come +and see Fixie." +</p> + +<p> +Aunt Edith had already heard from Nelson about Felix not being well, +and that was why she had got up earlier, for she was in a great +fright. +</p> + +<p> +"I am thankful to hear it," she said; "for there is no saying what his +illness may be going to be. But, Lillias, <i>of course</i> you won't +let darling Rosy stay in the nursery." +</p> + +<p> +"I hadn't thought about it," said Rosy's mother. "Perhaps I am a +little careless about these things, for you see all the years I was in +India I had only Fixie, and he was quite out of the way of infection. +Besides, Rosy has had measles and scarlet fever, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"But not whooping-cough, or chicken-pox, or mumps, or even smallpox. +Who knows but what it may be smallpox," said Aunt Edith, working +herself up more and more. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent could hardly help smiling. "I <i>don't</i> think that's +likely," she said. "However, I am glad you mentioned the risk, for I +think there is much more danger for Bee than for Rosy, for Bee, like +Fixie, has had none of these illnesses. I will go up to the nursery +and speak to Martha about it at once," and she turned towards the +door. +</p> + +<p> +"But you will separate Rosy too," insisted Miss Vincent, "the dear +child can sleep in my room. Nelson will be only too delighted to have +her again." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would +be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head +again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped +Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so +much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave +Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in +the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." +</p> + +<p> +The doctor came in the afternoon, but he was not able to say much. It +would take, he said, a day or two to decide what was the matter with +the little fellow. But Fixie was put to bed, and Rosy and Bee were +told on no account to go into either of the nurseries. Fixie was not +sorry to go to bed; he had been so dull all the morning, playing by +himself in a comer of the nursery, but he cried a little when he was +told that Bee must not come and sit by him and read or tell him +stories as she always was ready to do when he was not quite well. And +Bee looked ready to cry too when she saw his distress! +</p> + +<p> +It was not a very cheerful time. The children felt unsettled by being +kept out of their usual rooms and ways. Rosy was constantly running +off to her aunt's room, or to ask Nelson about something or other, and +Bee did not like to follow her, for she had an uncomfortable feeling +that neither Nelson nor her mistress liked her to come. Nelson was in +a very gloomy humour. +</p> + +<p> +"It will be a sad pity to be sure," she said to Rosy, "if Master +Fixie's gone and got any sort of catching illness." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you mean?" said Rosy. "It won't much matter except that Bee +and I can't go into the nursery or my room. Bee's room has a door out +into the other passage, I heard mamma saying we could sleep there if +the nursery door was kept locked. I think it would be fun to sleep in +Bee's room. I shouldn't mind." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson grunted. She did not approve of Rosy's liking Beata. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, well," she said, "it isn't only your Aunt Edith that's afraid of +infection. If it's measles that Master Fixie's got, you won't go to +Lady Esther's party, Miss Rosy." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy opened her eyes. "Not go to the party! we <i>must</i> go," she +exclaimed, and before Nelson knew what she was about, off Rosy had +rushed to confide this new trouble to Bee, and hear what she would say +about it. Bee, too, looked grave, for her heart was greatly set on the +idea of the Summerlands fete. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," she replied. "I hope dear little Fixie is not going to +be very ill. Any way, Rosy, I don't think Nelson should have said +that. Your mother would have told us herself if she had wanted us to +know it." +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed," said a harsh voice behind her, "I don't require a little +chit like you, Miss Bee, to teach me my duty," and turning round, +Beata saw that Nelson was standing in the doorway, for she had +followed Rosy, a little afraid of the effect of what she had told her. +Bee felt sorry that Nelson had overheard what she had said, though +indeed there was no harm in it. +</p> + +<p> +"I did not mean to vex you, Nelson," she said, "but I'm sure it is +better to wait till Aunt Lillias tells us herself." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson looked very angry, and walked off in a huff, muttering +something the children could not catch. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish you wouldn't always quarrel with Nelson," said Rosy crossly. +"She always gets on with <i>me</i> quite well. I shall have to go and +get her into a good humour again, for I want her to finish my apron." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy ran off, but Bee stayed alone, her eyes filled with tears. +</p> + +<p> +"It <i>isn't</i> my fault," she said to herself. "I don't know what to +do. Nothing is the same since they came. I'll write to mother and ask +her not to leave me here any longer. I'd rather be at school or +anywhere than stay here when they're all so unkind to me now." +</p> + +<p> +But then wiser thoughts came into her mind. They weren't "all" unkind, +and she knew that Mrs. Vincent herself had troubles to bear. +Besides—what was it her mother had always said to her?—that it was +at such times that one's real wish to be good was tried; when all is +smooth and pleasant and every one kind and loving, what is easier than +to be kind and pleasant in return? It is when others are <i>not</i> +kind, but sharp and suspicious and selfish, that one <i>has</i> to +"try" to return good for evil, gentleness for harshness, kind thoughts +and ways for the cold looks or angry words which one cannot help +feeling sadly, but which lose half their sting when not treasured up +and exaggerated by dwelling upon them. +</p> + +<p> +And feeling happier again, Bee went back to what she was busy +at—making a little toy scrap-book for Fixie which she meant to send +in to him the next morning as if it had come by post. And she had need +of her good resolutions, for she hardly saw Rosy again all day, and +when they were going to bed Nelson came to help Rosy to undress and +went on talking to her so much all the time about people and places +Bee knew nothing about, that it was impossible for her to join in at +all. She kissed Rosy as kindly as usual when Nelson had left the room, +but it seemed to her that her kiss was very coldly returned. +</p> + +<p> +"You're not vexed with me for anything, are you, Rosy?" she could not +help saying. +</p> + +<p> +"Vexed with you? No, I never said I was vexed with you," Rosy +answered. "I wish you wouldn't go on like that, Bee, it's tiresome. I +can't be always kissing and petting you." +</p> + +<p> +And that was all the comfort poor Bee could get to go to sleep with! +</p> + +<p> +For a day or two still the doctor could not say what was wrong with +Fixie, but at last he decided that it was only a sort of feverish +attack brought on by his having somehow or other caught cold, for +there had been some damp and rainy weather, even though spring was now +fast turning into summer. +</p> + +<p> +The little fellow had been rather weak and out of sorts for some time, +and as soon as he was better, Mrs. Vincent made up her mind to send +him off with Martha for a fortnight to a sheltered seaside village not +far from their home. Beata was very sorry to see them go. She almost +wished she was going with them, for though she had done her best to be +patient and cheerful, nothing was the same as before the coming of +Rosy's aunt. Rosy scarcely seemed to care to play with her at all. Her +whole time, when not at her lessons, was spent in her aunt's room, +generally with Nelson, who was never tired of amusing her and giving +in to all her fancies. Bee grew silent and shy. She was losing her +bright happy manner, and looked as if she no longer felt sure that she +was a welcome little guest. Mrs. Vincent saw the change in her, but +did not quite understand it, and felt almost inclined to be vexed with +her. +</p> + +<p> +"She knows it is only for a short time that Rosy's aunt is here. She +might make the best of it," thought Mrs. Vincent. For she did not know +fully how lonely Bee's life now was, and how many cold or unkind words +she had to bear from Rosy, not to speak of Nelson's sharp and almost +rude manner; for, though Rosy was not cunning, Nelson was so, and she +managed to make it seem always as if Bee, and not Rosy, was in fault. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is Bee?" said Mrs. Vincent one afternoon when she went into the +nursery, where, at this time of day, Nelson was now generally to be +found. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, mamma," said Rosy. Then, without saying any more about +Bee, she went on eagerly, "Do look, mamma, at the lovely opera-cloak +Nelson has made for my doll? It isn't <i>quite</i> ready—there's a +little white fluff——" +</p> + +<p> +"Swansdown, Miss Rosy, darling," said Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, swansdown then—it doesn't matter—mamma knows," said Rosy +sharply, "there's white stuff to go round the neck. Won't it be +lovely, mother?" +</p> + +<p> +She looked up with her pretty face all flushed with pleasure, for +nobody could be prettier than Rosy when she was pleased. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes dear, <i>very</i> pretty," said her mother. It was impossible to +deny that Nelson was very kind and patient, and Mrs. Vincent would +have felt really pleased if only she had not feared that Nelson did +Rosy harm by her spoiling and flattery. "But where can Bee be?" she +said again. "Does she not care about dolls too?" +</p> + +<p> +"She used to," said Rosy. "But Bee is very fond of being alone now, +mamma. And I don't care for her when she looks so gloomy." +</p> + +<p> +"But what makes her so?" said Mrs. Vincent. "Are you quite kind to +her, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh indeed, yes, ma'am," interrupted Nelson, without giving Rosy time +to answer. "Of that you may be very sure. Indeed many's the time I say +to myself Miss Rosy's patience is quite wonderful. Such a free, +outspoken young lady as she is, and Miss Bee <i>so</i> different. I +don't like them secrety sort of children, and Miss Rosy feels it +too—she—" +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson, I didn't ask for your opinion of little Miss Warwick," said +Mrs. Vincent, very coldly. "I know you are very kind to Rosy. But I +cannot have any interference when I find fault with her." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson looked very indignant, but Mrs. Vincent's manner had something +in it which prevented her answering in any rude way. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sure I meant no offence," she said sourly, but that was all. +</p> + +<p> +Beata was alone in the schoolroom, writing, or trying to write, to her +mother. Her letters, which used to be such a pleasure, had grown +difficult. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma said I was to write everything to her," she said to herself, +"but I <i>can't</i> write to tell her I'm not happy. I wonder if it's +any way my fault." +</p> + +<p> +Just then the door opened and Mrs. Vincent looked in. +</p> + +<p> +"All alone, Bee," she said. "Would it not be more cheerful in the +nursery with Rosy? You have no lessons to do now? +</p> + +<p> +"No" said Bee, "I was beginning a letter to mamma. But it isn't to go +just yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, dear, go and play with Rosy. I don't like to see you moping +alone. You must be my bright little Bee—you wouldn't like any one to +think you are not happy with us?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no," said Bee. But there was little brightness in her tone, and +Mrs. Vincent felt half provoked with her. +</p> + +<p> +"She has not really anything to complain of," +</p> + +<p> +she said to herself, "and she cannot expect me to speak to her against +Aunt Edith and Nelson. She should make the best of it for the time." +</p> + +<p> +As Bee was leaving the schoolroom Mrs. Vincent called her back. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you tell Rosy to bring me her Venetian necklace to the +drawing-room?" she said; "I want it for a few minutes." She did not +tell Beata why she wanted it. It was because she had had a letter that +morning from Mr. Furnivale asking her to tell him how many beads there +were on Rosy's necklace and their size, as he had found a shop where +there were two or three for sale, and he wanted to get one as nearly +as possible the same for Beata. +</p> + +<p> +Beata went slowly to the nursery. She would much rather have stayed in +the schoolroom, lonely and dull though it was. When she got to the +nursery she gave Rosy her mother's message, and asked her kindly if +she might bring her dolls so that they could play with them together. +</p> + +<p> +"I shan't get no work done," said Nelson crossly, "if there's going to +be such a litter about." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going to take my necklace to mamma," said Rosy. "You may play +with my doll till I come back, Bee." +</p> + +<p> +She ran off, and Bee sat down quietly as far away from Nelson as she +could. Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door suddenly opened +and Rosy burst in with a very red face. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee, Nelson," she exclaimed, "my necklace is <i>gone</i>. It is +indeed. I've hunted <i>everywhere</i>. And somebody must have taken +it, for I always put it in the same place, in its own little box. You +know I do—don't I, Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +Bee seemed hardly able to answer. Her face looked quite pale with +distress. +</p> + +<p> +"Your necklace gone, Rosy," she repeated. Nelson said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, <i>gone,</i> I tell you," said Rosy. "And I believe it's stolen. +It couldn't go of itself, and I <i>never</i> left it about. I haven't +had it on for a good while. You know that time I slept in your room, +Bee, while Fixie was ill, I got out of the way of wearing it. But I +always knew where it was, in its own little box in the far-back corner +of the drawer where I keep my best ribbons and jewelry." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee, "I know. It was there the day I had it out to amuse +Fixie." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy turned sharply upon her. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you put it back that day, Bee?" she said, "I don't believe I've +looked at it since. Answer, <i>did</i> you put it back?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee earnestly, "yes, indeed; <i>indeed</i> I did. O Rosy, +don't get like that," she entreated, clasping her hands, for Rosy's +face was growing redder and redder, and her eyes were flashing. "O +Rosy, <i>don't</i> get into a temper with me about it. I did, <i>did</i> +put it back." +</p> + +<p> +But it is doubtful if Rosy would have listened to her. She was fast +working herself up to believe that Bee had lost the necklace the day +she had had it out for Pixie, and she was so distressed at the loss +that she was quite ready to get into a temper with <i>somebody</i>—when, +to both the children's surprise, Nelson's voice interrupted +what Rosy was going to say. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Warwick," she said, with rather a mocking tone—she had made a +point of calling Bee "Miss Warwick" since the day Mrs. Vincent had +spoken of the little girl by that name—"Miss Warwick did put it back +that day, Miss Rosy dear," she said. "For I saw it late that evening +when I was putting your things away to help Martha as Master Fixie was +ill." She did not explain that she had made a point of looking for the +necklace in hopes of finding Bee had <i>not</i> put it back, for you +may remember she had been cross and rude to Bee about finding her in +Rosy's room. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, where has it gone? Come with me, Bee, and look for it," +said Rosy, rather softening down,—"though I'm <i>sure</i> I've looked +everywhere." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think it's any use your taking Miss Warwick to look for it," +said Nelson, getting up and laying aside her work. "I'll go with you, +Miss Rosy, and if it's in your room I'll undertake to find it. And +just you stay quietly here, Miss Bee. Too many cooks spoil the broth." +</p> + +<p> +So Bee was left alone again, alone, and even more unhappy than before, +for she was <i>very</i> sorry about Rosy's necklace, and besides, she +had a miserable feeling that if it was never found she would somehow +be blamed for its loss. A quarter of an hour passed, then half an +hour, what could Rosy and Nelson be doing all this time? The door +opened and Bee sprang up. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you found it, Rosy?" she cried eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not Rosy, though she was following behind. The first person +that came in was Mrs. Vincent. She looked grave and troubled. +</p> + +<p> +"Beata," she said, "you have heard about Rosy's necklace. Tell me all +about the last time you saw it." +</p> + +<p> +"It was when Rosy let Fixie have it to play with," began Bee, and she +told all she remembered. +</p> + +<p> +"And you are sure—<i>quite</i> sure—you never have seen it since?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Quite</i> sure," said Bee. "I never touch Rosy's things without +her leave." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson gave a sort of cough. Bee turned round on her. "If you've +anything to say you'd better say it now, before Mrs. Vincent," said +Bee, in a tone that, coming from the gentle kindly little girl, +surprised every one. +</p> + +<p> +"Bee!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, "What do you mean? Nelson has said +<i>nothing</i> about you." This was quite true. Nelson was too clever +to say anything right out. She had only hinted and looked wise about +the necklace to Rosy, giving her a feeling that Bee was more likely to +have touched it than any one else. +</p> + +<p> +Bee was going to speak, but Rosy's mother stopped her. "You have told +us all you know," she said. "I don't want to hear any more. But I am +surprised at you, Bee, for losing your temper about being simply asked +if you had seen the necklace. You might have forgotten at first if you +had had it again for Fixie, and you <i>might</i> the second time have +forgotten to put it back. But there is nothing to be offended at, in +being asked about it." +</p> + +<p> +She spoke coldly, and Bee's heart swelled more and more, but she dared +not speak. +</p> + +<p> +"There is nothing to do," said Mrs. Vincent, "that I can see, except +to find out if Fixie could have taken it. I will write to Martha at +once and tell her to ask him, and to let us know by return of post." +</p> + +<p> +The letter was written and sent. No one waited for the answer more +anxiously than Beata. It came by return of post, as Mrs. Vincent had +said. But it brought only disappointment. "Master Fixie," Martha +wrote, "knew nothing of Miss Rosy's necklace." He could not remember +having had it to play with at all, and he seemed to get so worried +when she kept on asking about it, that Martha thought it better to say +no more, for it was plain he had nothing to tell. +</p> + +<p> +"It is very strange he cannot remember playing with it that +afternoon," said Mrs. Vincent. "He generally has such a good memory. +You are sure you <i>did</i> give it to him to play with, Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +"We played with it together. I told him stories about each bead," the +little girl replied. And her voice trembled as if she were going to +burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +"Then his illness since must have made him forget it," said Mrs. +Vincent. But that was all she said. She did not call Bee to her and +tell her not to feel unhappy about it—that she knew she could trust +every word she said, as she once would have done. But she did give +very strict orders that nothing more was to be said about the +necklace, for though Nelson had not dared to hint anything unkind +about Bee to Mrs. Vincent herself, yet Rosy's mother felt sure that +Nelson blamed Bee for the loss, and wished others to do so, and she +was afraid of what might be said in the nursery if the subject was +still spoken about. +</p> + +<p> +So nothing unkind was actually said to Beata, but Rosy's cold manner +and careless looks were hard to bear. +</p> + +<p> +And the days were drawing near for the long looked forward to fete at +Summerlands. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER XI. +</h3> + +<h3> +A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "She ran with wild speed, she rushed in at the door,<br /> + She gazed in her terror around."<br /> + —SOUTHEY.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +But Beata could not look forward to it now. The pleasure seemed to +have gone out of everything. +</p> + +<p> +"Nobody loves me now, and nobody trusts me," she said sadly to +herself. "And I don't know why it is. I can't think of anything I have +done to change them all." +</p> + +<p> +Her letter to her mother was already written and sent before the +answer came from Martha. Bee had hurried it a little at the end +because she wanted to have an excuse to herself for not telling her +mother how unhappy she was about the loss of the necklace. +</p> + +<p> +"If an answer comes from Martha that Fixie had taken it away or put it +somewhere, it will be all right again and I shall be quite happy, and +then it would have been a pity to write unhappily to poor mother, so +far away," she said to herself. And when Martha's letter came and all +was not right again, she felt glad that she could not write for +another fortnight, and that perhaps by that time she would know better +what to say, or that "somehow" things would have grown happier again. +For she had promised, "faithfully" promised her mother to tell her +truly all that happened, and that if by any chance she was unhappy +about anything that she could not speak easily about to Mrs. +Vincent,—though Bee's mother had little thought such a thing +likely,—she would still write all about it to her own mother. +</p> + +<p> +But a week had already passed since that letter was sent. It was +growing time to begin to think about another. And no "somehow" had +come to put things right again. Bee sat at the schoolroom window one +day after Miss Pink had left, looking out on to the garden, where the +borders were bright with the early summer flowers, and everything +seemed sunny and happy. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish I was happy too," thought Bee. And she gently stroked +Manchon's soft coat, and wondered why the birds outside and the cat +inside seemed to have all they wanted, when a little girl like her +felt so sad and lonely. Manchon had grown fond of Bee. She was gentle +and quiet, and that was what he liked, for he was no longer so young +as he had been. And Rosy's pullings and pushings, when she was not in +a good humour and fancied he was in her way, tried his nerves very +much. +</p> + +<p> +"Manchon," said Bee softly, "you look very wise. Why can't you tell me +where Rosy's necklace is?" +</p> + +<p> +Manchon blinked his eyes and purred. But, alas, that was all he could +do. +</p> + +<p> +Just then the door opened and Rosy came in. She was dressed for going +out. She had her best hat and dress on, and she looked very well +pleased with herself. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going out a drive with auntie," she said. "And mamma says you're +to be ready to go a walk with her in half an hour." +</p> + +<p> +She was leaving the room, when a sudden feeling made Bee call her +back. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," she said, "do stay a minute. Rosy, I am so unhappy. I've been +thinking if I can't write a letter to ask mother to take me away from +here. I would, only it would make her so unhappy." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked a little startled. +</p> + +<p> +"Why would you do that?" she said. "I'm sure I've not done anything to +you." +</p> + +<p> +"But you don't love me any more," said Bee. "You began to leave off +loving me when your aunt and Nelson came,—I know you did,—and then +since the necklace was lost it's been worse. What can I do, Rosy, what +can I say?" +</p> + +<p> +"You might own that you've lost it—at least that you forgot to put it +back," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"But I <i>did</i> put it back. Even Nelson says that," said Bee. "I +can't say I didn't when I know I did," she added piteously. +</p> + +<p> +"But Nelson thinks you took it another time, and forgot to put it +back. And I think so too," said Rosy. To do her justice, she never, +like Nelson, thought that Bee had taken the necklace on purpose. She +did not even understand that Nelson thought so. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy," said Bee very earnestly, "I did <i>not</i> take it another +time. I have never seen it since that afternoon when Fixie had had it +and I put it back. Rosy, <i>don't</i> you believe me?" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy gave herself an impatient shake. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," she said. "You might have forgotten. Anyway it was you +that had it last, and I wish I'd never given you leave to have it; I'm +sure it wouldn't have been lost." +</p> + +<p> +Bee turned away and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +"I <i>will</i> write to mamma and ask her to take me away," she said. +</p> + +<p> +Again Rosy looked startled. +</p> + +<p> +"If you do that," she said, "it will be very unkind to <i>my</i> +mamma. Yours will think we have all been unkind to you, and then +she'll write letters to my mamma that will vex her very much. And I'm +sure <i>mamma's</i> never been unkind to you. I don't mind if you say +<i>I'm</i> unkind; perhaps I am, because I'm very vexed about my +necklace. I shall get naughty now it's lost—I know I shall," and so +saying, Rosy ran off. +</p> + +<p> +Bee left off crying. It was true what Rosy had said. It <i>would</i> +make Mrs. Vincent unhappy and cause great trouble if she asked her +mother to take her away. A new and braver spirit woke in the little +girl. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't be unhappy any more," she resolved. "I know I didn't touch +the necklace, and so I needn't be unhappy. And then I needn't write +anything to trouble mother, for if I get happy again it will be all +right." +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes were still rather red, but her face was brighter than it had +been for some time when she came into the drawing-room, ready dressed +for her walk. +</p> + +<p> +"Is that you, Bee dear?" said Mrs. Vincent kindly. She too was ready +dressed, but she was just finishing the address on a letter. "Why, you +are looking quite bright again, my child!" she went on when she looked +up at the little figure waiting patiently beside her. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm very glad to go out with you," said Bee simply. +</p> + +<p> +"And I'm very glad to have you," said Mrs. Vincent. +</p> + +<p> +"Aunt Lillias," said Bee, her voice trembling a little, "may I ask you +one thing? <i>You</i> don't think I touched Rosy's necklace?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Certainly</i> not, dear," she said. "I did at first think you +might have forgotten to put it back that day. But after your telling +me so distinctly that you <i>had</i> put it back, I felt quite +satisfied that you had done so." +</p> + +<p> +"But," said Bee, and then she hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +"But what?" said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think—I <i>didn't</i> think," Bee went on, gaining courage, +"that you had been quite the same to me since then." +</p> + +<p> +"And you have been fancying all kinds of reasons for it, I suppose!" +said Mrs. Vincent. "Well, Bee, the only thing I have been not quite +pleased with you for <i>has</i> been your looking so unhappy. I was +surprised at your seeming so hurt and vexed at my asking you about the +necklace, and since then you have looked so miserable that I had begun +seriously to think it might be better for you not to stay with us. If +Rosy or any one else has disobeyed me, and gone on talking about the +necklace, it is very wrong, but even then I wonder at your allowing +foolish words to make you so unhappy. <i>Has</i> any one spoken so as +to hurt you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Bee, "not exactly, but—" +</p> + +<p> +"But you have seen that there were unkind thoughts about you. Well, I +am very sorry for it, but at present I can do no more. You are old +enough and sensible enough to see that several things have not been as +I like or wish lately. But it is often so in this world. I was very +sorry for Martha to have to go away, but it could not be helped, Now, +Bee, think it over. Would you rather go away, for a time any way, or +will you bravely determine not to mind what you know you don't +deserve, knowing that <i>I</i> trust you fully?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee at once, "I will not mind it any more. And Rosy +perhaps," here her voice faltered, "Rosy perhaps will like me better +if I don't seem so dull." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent looked grave when Bee spoke of Rosy, so grave that Bee +almost wished she had not said it. +</p> + +<p> +"It is very hard," she heard Rosy's mother say, as if speaking to +herself, "just when I thought I had gained a better influence over +her. <i>Very</i> hard." +</p> + +<p> +Bee threw her arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear auntie," she said, "<i>don't</i> be unhappy about Rosy. I will +be patient, and I know it will come right again, and I won't be +unhappy any more." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear Bee," she said, "we must both be patient and hopeful." +</p> + +<p> +And then they went out, and during the walk Beata noticed that Mrs. +Vincent talked about other things—old times in India that Bee could +remember, and plans for the future when her father and mother should +come home again to stay. Only just as they were entering the house on +their return, Bee could not help saying, +</p> + +<p> +"Aunt Lillias, I <i>wonder</i> if the necklace will never be found." +</p> + +<p> +"So do I," said Mrs. Vincent. "I really cannot understand where it can +have gone. We have searched so thoroughly that even if Fixie +<i>had</i> put it somewhere we would have found it. And, if possibly, +he had taken it away with him by mistake, Martha would have seen it." +</p> + +<p> +But that was all that was said. +</p> + +<p> +A day or two later Rosy came flying into the schoolroom in great +excitement. Miss Pinkerton was there at the time, for it was the +middle of morning lessons, and she had sent Rosy upstairs to fetch a +book she had left in the nursery by mistake. "Miss Pink, Bee!" she +continued, "our dresses have come from London. I'm sure it must be +them. Just as I passed the backstair door I heard James calling to +somebody about a case that was to be taken upstairs, and I peeped over +the banisters, and there was a large white wood box, and I saw the +carter's man standing waiting to be paid. Do let me go and ask about +them, Miss Pink." +</p> + +<p> +"No, Rosy, not just now," said Miss Pink. She spoke more firmly than +she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was +beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it +to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down +to her lessons. +</p> + +<p> +"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you +had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem +better than any one else." +</p> + +<p> +"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the +dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this +afternoon." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy looked at her with surprise. Lately Beata had never answered her +cross speeches like this, but had looked either ready to cry, or had +told her she was very unkind or very naughty, which had not mended +matters! +</p> + +<p> +Rosy was right. The white wood box did contain the dresses, and though +Mrs. Vincent was busy that day, as she and Aunt Edith were going a +long drive to spend the afternoon and evening with friends at some +distance, she understood the little girls' eagerness to see them, and +had the box undone and the costumes fully exhibited to please them. +They were certainly very pretty, for though the material they were +made of was only cotton, they had been copied exactly from an old +picture Lady Esther had sent on purpose. The only difference between +them was that one of the quilted under skirts was sky blue to suit +Rosy's bright complexion and fair hair, and the other was a very +pretty shade of rose colour, which, went better with Bee's dark hair +and paler face. +</p> + +<p> +The children stood entranced, admiring them. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, dears, I must put them away," said Mrs. Vincent. "It is really +time for me to get ready." +</p> + +<p> +"O mamma!" exclaimed Rosy, "do leave them out for us to try on. I can +tell Nelson to take them to my room." +</p> + +<p> +"No, Rosy," said her mother decidedly. "You must wait to try them on +till to-morrow. I want to see them on myself. Besides, they are very +delicate in colour, and would be easily soiled. You must be satisfied +with what you have seen of them for to-day. Now run and get ready. It +is already half-past three." +</p> + +<p> +For it had been arranged that Rosy and Bee, with Nelson to take care +of them, were to drive part of the way with Mrs. Vincent and her +sister-in-law, and to walk back, as it was a very pretty country road. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy went off to get ready, shaking herself in the way she often did +when she was vexed; and while she was dressing she recounted her +grievances to Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, Miss Rosy," said that foolish person, "we'll perhaps have +a quiet look at your dress this evening when we're all alone. There's +no need to say anything about it to Miss Bee." +</p> + +<p> +"But mamma said we were not to try them on till to-morrow," said Rosy. +</p> + +<p> +"No, not to try them on by yourselves, very likely you would get them +soiled. But we'll see." +</p> + +<p> +It was pretty late when the children came home. They had gone rather +farther than Mrs. Vincent had intended, and coming home they had made +the way longer by passing through a wood which had tempted them at the +side of the road. They were a little tired and very hungry, and till +they had had their tea Rosy was too hungry to think of anything else. +But tea over, Bee sat down to amuse herself with a book till bed-time, +and Rosy wandered about, not inclined to read, or, indeed, to do +anything. Suddenly the thought of the fancy dresses returned to her +mind. She ran out of the nursery, and made her way to her aunt's room, +where Nelson was generally to be found. She was not there, however. +Rosy ran down the passages at that part of the house where the +servants' rooms were, to look for her, though she knew that her mother +did not like her to do so. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson, Nelson," she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson's head was poked out of her room. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, Miss Rosy? It's not your bed-time yet." +</p> + +<p> +"No, but I want to look at my dress again. You promised I should." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, just wait five minutes. I'm just finishing a letter that one of +the men's going to post for me. I'll come to your room, Miss Rosy, and +bring a light. It's getting too dark to see." +</p> + +<p> +"Be quick then," said Rosy, imperiously. +</p> + +<p> +She went back to her room, but soon got tired of waiting there. She +did not want to go to the nursery, for Bee was there, and would begin +asking her what she was doing. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go to mamma's room," she said to herself, "and just look about +to see where she has put the frocks. I'm <i>almost</i> sure she'll +have hung them up in her little wardrobe, where she keeps new things +often." +</p> + +<p> +No sooner said than done. Off ran Rosy to her mother's room. It was +getting dusk, dark almost, any way too dark to see clearly. Rosy +fumbled about on the mantelpiece till she found the match-box, and +though she was generally too frightened of burning her fingers to +strike a light herself, this time she managed to do so. There were +candles on the dressing-table, and when she had lighted them she +proceeded to search. It was not difficult to find what she wanted. The +costumes were hanging up in the little wardrobe, as she expected, but +too high for her to reach easily. Rosy went to the door, and a little +way down the passage, and called Nelson. But no one answered, and it +was a good way off to Nelson's room. +</p> + +<p> +"Nasty, selfish thing," said Rosy; "she's just going on writing to +tease me." +</p> + +<p> +But she was too impatient, to go back to her own room and wait there. +With the help of a chair she got down the frocks. Bee's came first, of +course, because it wasn't wanted—Rosy flung it across the back of a +chair, and proceeded to examine her own more closely than she had been +able to do before. It <i>was</i> pretty! And so complete—there was +even the little white mob-cap with blue ribbons, and a pair of blue +shoes with high, though not very high, heels! These last she found +lying on the shelf, above the hanging part of the wardrobe. +</p> + +<p> +"It is <i>too</i> pretty," said Rosy. "I <i>must</i> try it on." +</p> + +<p> +And, quick as thought, she set to work—and nobody could be quicker or +cleverer than Rosy when she chose—taking off the dress she had on, +and rapidly attiring herself in the lovely costume. It all seemed to +fit beautifully,—true, the pale blue shoes looked rather odd beside +the sailor-blue stockings she was wearing, and she wondered what kind +of stockings her mother intended her to wear at Summerlands—and she +could not get the little lace kerchief arranged quite to her taste; +but the cap went on charmingly, and so did the long mittens, which +were beside the shoes. +</p> + +<p> +"There must be stockings too," thought Rosy, "for there seems to be +everything else; perhaps they are farther back in the shelf." +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH +THEM.] +</p> + +<p> +She climbed up on the chair again, but she could not see farther into +the shelf, so she got down and fetched one of the candles. Then up +again—yes—there were two little balls, a pink and a blue, farther +back-by stretching a good deal she thought she could reach them. Only +the candle was in the way, as she was holding it in one hand. She +stooped and set it down on the edge of the chair, and reached up +again, and had just managed to touch the little balls she could no +longer see, when—what was the matter? What was that rush of hot air +up her left leg and side? She looked down, and, in her fright, +fell—chair, Rosy, and candle, in a heap on the floor—for she had +seen that her skirts were on fire! and, as she fell, she uttered a +long piercing scream. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER XII. +</h3> + +<h3> +GOOD OUT OF EVIL. +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Sweet are the uses of adversity."—SHAKESPEARE.<br /> +</p> + +<p> +A scream that would probably have reached the nursery, which was not +very far from Mrs. Vincent's room, had there been any one there to +hear it! But as it was, the person who had been there—little Bee—was +much nearer than the nursery at the time of Rosy's accident. The house +was very silent that evening, and Nelson had not thought of bringing a +light; so when it got too dark to read, even with the book pressed +close against the window-panes, Bee grew rather tired of waiting there +by herself, with nothing to do. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder where Rosy is," she thought, opening the door, and looking +out along the dusky passages. +</p> + +<p> +And just then she heard Rosy's voice, at some little distance, +calling, "Nelson, Nelson." +</p> + +<p> +"If she is with Nelson I won't go," thought Bee. "I'll wait till she +comes back;" and she came into the empty nursery again, and wished +Martha was home. +</p> + +<p> +"She always makes the nursery so comfortable," thought Bee. Then it +struck her that perhaps it was not very kind of her not to go and see +what Rosy wanted—she had not heard any reply to Rosy's call for +Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"Her voice sounded as if she was in Aunt Lillias's room," she said to +herself. "What can she be wanting? perhaps I'd better go and see." +</p> + +<p> +And she set off down the passage. The lamps were not yet lighted; +perhaps the servants were less careful than usual, knowing that the +ladies would not be home till late, but Bee knew her way about the +house quite well. She was close to the door of Mrs. Vincent's room, +and had already noticed that it stood slightly ajar, for a light was +streaming out, when—she stood for a second half-stupefied with +terror—what was it?—what could be the matter?—as Rosy's fearful +scream reached her ears. Half a second, and she had rushed into the +room—there lay a confused heap on the floor, for Rosy, in her fall, +had pulled over the chair; but the first glance showed Bee what was +wrong—Rosy was on fire! +</p> + +<p> +It was a good thing she had fallen, otherwise, in her wild fright, she +would probably have made things worse by rushing about; as it was, she +had not had time to get up before Bee was beside her, smothering her +down with some great heavy thing, and calling to her to keep still, to +"squeeze herself down," so as to put out the flames. The "great thing" +was the blankets and counterpane of the bed, which somehow Bee, small +as she was, had managed to tear off. And, frightened as Rosy was, the +danger was not, after all, so very great, for the quilted under skirt +was pretty thick, and her fall had already partly crushed down the +fire. It was all over more quickly than it has taken me to tell it, +and Rosy at last, half choked with the heavy blankets, and half soaked +with the water which Bee had poured over her to make sure, struggled +to her feet, safe and uninjured, only the pretty dress hopelessly +spoilt! +</p> + +<p> +And when all the danger was past, and there was nothing more to do, +Nelson appeared at the door, and rushed at her darling Miss Rosy, +screaming and crying, while Beata stood by, her handkerchief wrapped +round one of her hands, and nobody paying any attention to her. +Nelson's screams soon brought the other servants; among them, they got +the room cleared of the traces of the accident, and Rosy undressed and +put to bed. She was crying from the fright, but she had got no injury +at all; her tears, however, flowed on when she thought of what her +mother would have to be told, and Bee found it difficult to comfort +her. +</p> + +<p> +"You saved me, Bee, dear Bee," she said, clinging to her. "And it was +because I disobeyed mamma, and I might have been burnt to death. O +Bee, just think of it!" and she would not let Beata leave her. +</p> + +<p> +It was like this that Mrs. Vincent found them on her return late in +the evening. You can fancy how miserable it was for her to be met with +such a story, and to know that it was all Rosy's own fault. But it was +not all miserable, for never had she known her little girl so +completely sorry and ashamed, and so truly grateful to any one as she +was now feeling to Beata. +</p> + +<p> +And even Aunt Edith's prejudice seemed to have melted away, for she +kissed Bee as she said goodnight, and called her a brave, good child. +</p> + +<p> +So it was with a thankful little heart that Beata went to bed. Her +hand was sore—it had got badly scorched in pressing down the +blankets—but she did not think it bad enough to say anything about it +except to the cook, who was a kind old woman, and wrapped it up in +cotton wool, after well dredging it with flour, and making her promise +that if it hurt her in the night she would call her. +</p> + +<p> +It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the +morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was +still sleeping—the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told +her—and she was not to be wakened. +</p> + +<p> +"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant +said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it. +It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she +went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. +What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head +worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed. +</p> + +<p> +"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm +up." +</p> + +<p> +It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs. +Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up, +none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for +poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache, +</p> + +<p> +"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs. +Vincent asked. +</p> + +<p> +"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser +looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and—and—you had had +so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added, +affectionately. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear; but, when I think how much worse they might have been, I +dare not complain," Rosy's mother replied. +</p> + +<p> +Bee did not go to church that day. Her headache was not very bad, but +it did not seem to get well, and it was still rather bad when she woke +the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +And that next morning brought back to all their minds what, for the +moment, had been almost forgotten—that it was within three days of +the fete at Summerlands!—for there came a note from Lady Esther, +giving some particulars about the hour she hoped they would all come, +and rejoicing in the promise of fine weather for the children's treat. +</p> + +<p> +Rosy's mother read the note aloud. Then she looked at Aunt Edith, and +looked at the little girls. They were all together when the letter +came. +</p> + +<p> +"What is to be done?" said Miss Vincent; "I had really forgotten the +fête was to be on Wednesday. Is it impossible to have a new dress made +in time?" +</p> + +<p> +"Quite impossible," said Mrs. Vincent, "Rosy must cheerfully, or at +least patiently, bear what she has brought on herself, and be, as I am +sure she is, very thankful that it was no worse." +</p> + +<p> +Rosy glanced up quickly. She seemed as if she were going to say +something, and the look in her face was quite gentle. +</p> + +<p> +"I—I—I <i>will</i> try to be good, mamma," she broke out at last. +"And I know I might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for +Bee. And—and—I hope Bee will enjoy the fête." +</p> + +<p> +But that was all she could manage. She hurried over the last words; +then, bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor darling!" said Aunt Edith. "Lillias, are you sure we can do +nothing? Couldn't one of her white dresses be done up somehow?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Mrs. Vincent. "It would only draw attention to her if she +was to go dressed differently from the others, and I should not wish +that. Besides—oh no—it is much better not." +</p> + +<p> +She had hardly said the words when she felt something gently pulling +her, and, looking down, there was Bee beside her, trying to whisper +something. +</p> + +<p> +"Auntie," she said, "would you, oh! <i>would</i> you let Rosy go +instead of me, wearing my dress? It would fit her almost as well as +her own. And, do you know, I <i>wouldn't</i> care to go alone. It +wouldn't be <i>any</i> happiness to me, and it would be such happiness +to know that Rosy could go. And I'm afraid I've got a little cold or +something, for I've still got a headache, and I'm not sure that it +will be better by Wednesday." +</p> + +<p> +She looked up entreatingly in Mrs. Vincent's face, and then Rosy's +mother noticed how pale and ill she seemed. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear little Bee," she said, "you must try to be better by +Wednesday. And, you know, dear, though we are all very sorry for Rosy, +it is only what she has brought on herself. I hope she has learnt a +lesson—more than one lesson—but, if she were to have the pleasure of +going to Summerlands, she might not remember it so well." +</p> + +<p> +Beata said no more—she could not oppose Rosy's mother—but she shook +her head a little sadly. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think Rosy's like that, Aunt Lillias," she said; "I don't +think it would make her forget." +</p> + +<p> +Beata's headache was not better the next day; and, as the day went on, +it grew so much worse that Mrs. Vincent at last sent for the doctor. +He said that she was ill, much in the same way that Fixie had been. +Not that it was anything she could have caught from him—it was not +that kind of illness at all—but it was the first spring either of +them had been in England, and he thought that very likely the change +of climate had caused it with them both. He was not, he said, anxious +about Bee, but still he looked a little grave. She was not strong, and +she should not be overworked with lessons, or have anything to trouble +or distress her. +</p> + +<p> +"She has not been overworked," Mrs. Vincent said. +</p> + +<p> +"And she seems very sweet-tempered and gentle. A happy disposition, I +should think," said the doctor, as he hastened away. +</p> + +<p> +His words made Mrs. Vincent feel rather sad. It was true—Bee had a +happy disposition—she had never, till lately, seen her anything but +bright and cheery. +</p> + +<p> +"My poor little Bee," she thought, "I was hard upon her. I did not +quite understand her. In my anxiety about Rosy when her aunt and +Nelson came I fear I forgot Bee. But I do trust all that is over, and +that Rosy has truly learnt a lesson. And we must all join to make +little Bee happy again." +</p> + +<p> +She returned to Bee's room. The child was sitting up in bed, her eyes +sparkling in her white face—she was very eager about something. +</p> + +<p> +"Auntie," she said, "you see I cannot possibly go to-morrow. And you +must go, for poor Lady Esther is counting on you to help her. Auntie, +you <i>will</i> forgive poor Rosy now <i>quite</i>, won't you, and let +her go in my dress?" +</p> + +<p> +The pleading eyes, the white face, the little hot hands laid coaxingly +on hers—it would not have been easy to refuse! Besides, the doctor +had said she was neither to be excited nor distressed. +</p> + +<p> +The tears were in Mrs. Vincent's eyes as she bent down to kiss the +little girl, but she did not let her see them. +</p> + +<p> +"I will speak to Rosy, dear," she said. "I will tell her how much you +want her to go in your place; and I think perhaps you are right—I +don't think it will make her forget." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Thank</i> you, dear auntie," said Bee, as fervently as if Mrs. +Vincent had promised her the most delightful treat in the world. +</p> + +<p> +That afternoon Bee fell asleep, and slept quietly and peacefully for +some time. When she woke she felt better, and she lay still, thinking +it was nice and comfortable to be in bed when one felt tired, as she +had always done lately; then her eyes wandered round her little room, +and she thought how neat and pretty it looked, how pleased her mother +would be to see how nice she had everything; and, just as she was +thinking this, her glance fell on a little table beside her bed, which +had been placed there with a little lemonade and a few grapes. There +was something there that had not been on the table before she went to +sleep. In a delicate little glass, thin and clear as a soap-bubble, +was the most lovely rose Bee had ever seen—rich, soft, <i>rose</i> +colour, glowing almost crimson in the centre, and melting into a +somewhat paler shade at the edge. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +[Illustration: 'IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY.'] +</p> + +<p> +"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Bee, "I wonder who put you there. I would +like to scent you"—Bee, like other children I know, always talked of +"scenting" flowers; she said "smell" was not a pretty enough word for +such pretty things—"but I am afraid of knocking over that lovely +glass. It must be one of Aunt Lillias's that she has lent." +</p> + +<p> +A little soft laugh came from the side of her bed, and, leaning over, +Bee caught sight of a tangle of bright hair. It was Rosy. She had been +watching there for Bee to wake. Up she jumped, and, carefully lifting +the glass, held it close to Bee. +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't mother's glass," she said; "it's your own. It <i>was</i> +mother's, but I've bought it for you. Mother let me, because I +<i>did</i> so want to do something to please you; and she let me +choose the beautifullest rose for you, Bee. I am so glad you like it; +It's a rose from Rosy. I've been sitting by you such a time. And +though I'm so pleased you like the rose, I <i>have</i> been crying a +little, Bee, truly, because you are so good, and about my going +to-morrow." +</p> + +<p> +"You <i>are</i> going?" said Bee, anxiously. In Rosy's changed way of +thinking she became suddenly afraid that she might not wish to go. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy, rather gravely, "I am going. Mother is quite pleased +for me to go, to please you. In one way I would rather not go, for I +know I don't deserve it; and I can't help thinking you wouldn't have +been ill if I hadn't done that, and made you have a fright. And it +seems such a shame for me to wear <i>your</i> dress, when you've been +quite good and <i>deserve</i> the pleasure, and just when I've got to +see how kind you are, and we'd have been so happy to go together. And +then I've a feeling, Bee, that I <i>shall</i> enjoy it when I get +there, and perhaps I shall forget a little about you, and it will be +so horrid of me, if I do—and that makes me, wish I wasn't going." +</p> + +<p> +"But I want you to enjoy it," said Bee, simply, in her little weak +voice. "It wouldn't be nice of me to want you to go if I thought you +wouldn't enjoy it. And it's nice of you to tell me how you feel. But I +would like you to think of me <i>this</i> way—every time you are +having a very nice dance, or that any one says you look so nice, just +think, "I wish Bee could see me," or "How nice it will be to tell Bee +about it," and, that way, the more you enjoy it the more you'll think +of me." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosy, "that's putting it a very nice way; or, Bee, if +there are very nice things to eat, I might think of you another way. I +might, perhaps, bring you back some nice biscuits or bonbons—any kind +that wouldn't squash in my pocket, you know. I might ask mamma to ask +Lady Esther." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bee, "I'm not very hungry, but just a few very nice, +rather dry ones, you know, I would like." "I could keep them for Fixie +when he comes back," was the thought in her mind. +</p> + +<p> +She had not heard anything about when Fixie and Martha were coming +back, but she was to have a pleasant surprise the next day. It was a +little lonely; for, though Rosy meant to be very, very kind, she was +rather too much of a chatterbox not to tire Bee after a while. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma said I wasn't to stay very long," she said; "but don't you mind +being alone so much?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I don't think so," said Bee, "and, you know, Phoebe is in the +next room if I want her." +</p> + +<p> +"I know what you'd like," said Rosy, and off she flew. In two minutes +she was back again with something in her arms. It was Manchon! She +laid him gently down at the foot of Bee's bed. "He's so 'squisitely +clean, you know," she went on, "and I know you're fond of him." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Very</i>" said Bee, with great satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +"I like him better than I did," said Rosy, "but still I think he's a +sort of a fairy. Why, it shows he is, for now that I'm so good—I mean +now that I'm going to be good always—he seems to like me ever so much +better. He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said +'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon,' he let me take him as good +as good." +</p> + +<p> +But that evening brought still better company for Bee. +</p> + +<p> +She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the +morning who do you think was standing beside her? Dear little Fixie, +his white face ever so much rounder and rosier, and kind Martha, both +smiling with pleasure at seeing her again, though feeling sorry, too, +that she was ill. +</p> + +<p> +"Zou'll soon be better, Bee, and Fixie will be so good to you, and +then p'raps we'll go again to that nice place where we've been, for +you to get kite well." +</p> + +<p> +So Bee, after all, did not feel at all dull or lonely when Rosy came +in to say good-bye, in Bee's pretty dress. And Mrs. Vincent, and even +Miss Vincent, kissed her so kindly! Even Nelson, I forgot to say, had +put her head in at the door to ask how she was; and when Bee answered +her nicely, as she always did, she came in for a moment to tell her +how sorry she was Bee could not go to the fete. "For I must say, Miss +Bee," she added, "I must say as I think you've acted very pretty, very +pretty, indeed, about lending your dress to dear Miss Rosy, bless her." +</p> + +<p> +"And, if there's anything I can do for you—" Here Bee's breakfast +coming in interrupted her, which Bee, on the whole, was not sorry for. +</p> + +<p> +She did not see Rosy that evening, for it was late when they came +home, and she was already asleep. But the next morning Bee woke much +better, and quite able to listen to Rosy's account of it all. She had +enjoyed it very much—of course not <i>as</i> much as if Bee had been +there too, she said; but Lady Esther had thought it so sweet of Bee to +beg for Rosy to go, and she had sent her the loveliest little basket +of bonbons, tied up with pink ribbons, that ever was seen, and still +better, she had told Rosy that she had serious thoughts of having a +large Christmas-tree party next winter, at which all the children +should be dressed out of the fairy tales. +</p> + +<p> +"Wouldn't it be lovely?" said Rosy. "We were thinking perhaps you +would be Red Riding Hood, and I the white cat. But we can look over +all the fairy tales and think about it when you're better, can't we, +Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata got better much more quickly than Fixie had done. The first day +she was well enough to be up she begged leave to write two little +letters, one to her mother and one to Colin, who had been very kind; +for while she was ill he had written twice to her, which for a +schoolboy was a great deal, I think. His letters were meant to be very +amusing; but, as they were full of cricket and football, Bee did not +find them very easy to understand. She was sitting at the +nursery-table, thinking what she could say to show Colin she liked to +hear about his games, even though the names puzzled her a little, when +Fixie came and stood by her, looking rather melancholy. +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"Zou's writing such a long time," said Fixie, "and Rosy's still at her +lessons. I zought when zou was better zou'd play wif me." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't play much," said Bee, "for I've still got a funny buzzy +feeling in my head, and I'm rather tired." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I know," said Fixie, with great sympathy, "mine head was like +fousands of trains when I was ill. We won't play, Bee, we'll only +talk." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'll just finish my letter," said Bee. "I'll just tell Colin he +must tell me all about innings and outings, and all that, when he +comes home. Yes—that'll do. "Your affectionate—t-i-o-n-a-t-e—Bee." +Now I'll talk to you, Fixie. What a pity we haven't got Rosy's beads +to tell stories about!" +</p> + +<p> +A queer look came into Fixie's face. +</p> + +<p> +"Rosy's beads," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Rosy's necklace that was lost. And you didn't know where it was +gone when Martha asked you—when your mother wrote a letter about it." +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke, she drew their two little chairs to what had always been +their favourite corner, near a window, which was low enough for them +to look out into the pretty garden. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't sit there," said Fixie, "I don't like there." +</p> + +<p> +"Why not? Don't you remember we were sitting here the last afternoon +we were in the nursery—before you went away. You liked it then, when +I told you stories about the beads, before they were lost." +</p> + +<p> +"Before <i>zem</i> was lost," said Fixie, his face again taking the +troubled, puzzled look; "I didn't know it was <i>zem</i>—I mean it +was somefin else of Rosy's that was lost—lace for her neck, that I'd +<i>never</i> seen." +</p> + +<p> +Bee's heart began to beat faster with a strange hope. She had seen +Fixie's face looking troubled, and she remembered Martha saying how +her questioning about the necklace had upset him, and it seemed almost +cruel to go on talking about it. But a feeling had come over her that +there was something to find out, and now it grew stronger and +stronger. +</p> + +<p> +"Lace for Rosy's neck," she repeated, "no, Fixie, you must be +mistaken. Lace for her neck—" and then a sudden idea struck her,—"can +you mean a <i>necklace?</i> Don't you know that a necklace means +beads?" +</p> + +<p> +Fixie stared at her for a moment, growing very red. Then the redness +finished up, like a thundercloud breaking into rain, by his bursting +into tears, and hiding his face in Bee's lap. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't know, I didn't know," he cried, "I thought it was some lace +that Martha meant. I didn't mean to tell a' untrue, Bee. I didn't like +Martha asking me, 'cos it made me think of the beads I'd lost, and I +thought p'raps I'd get them up again when I came home, but I can't. +I've poked and poked, and I think the mouses have eatened zem." +</p> + +<p> +By degrees Bee found out what the poor little fellow meant. The +morning after the afternoon when Bee and he had had the necklace, and +Bee had put it safely back, he had, unknown to any one, fetched it +again for himself, and sat playing with it by the nursery-window, in +the corner where the hole in the floor was. Out of idleness, he had +amused himself by holding the string of beads at one end, and dropping +them down the mysterious hole, "like fishing," he said, till, +unluckily, he had dropped them in altogether; and there, no doubt, +they were still lying! He was frightened at what he had done, but he +meant to tell Bee, and ask her advice. But that very afternoon the +doctor came, and he was separated from the other children; and, while +he was ill, he seemed to have forgotten about it. When Martha +questioned him at the seaside, he had no idea she was speaking of the +beads; but he did not like her questions, because they made him +remember what he <i>had</i> lost. And then he thought he would try to +get the beads out of the hole by poking with a stick when he came +home; but he had found he could not manage it, and then he had taken a +dislike to that part of the room. +</p> + +<p> +All this was told with many sobs and tears, but Bee soothed him as +well as she could; and when his mother soon after came to the nursery +and heard the story, she was very kind indeed, and made him see how +even little wrong-doings, like taking the beads to play with without +leave, always bring unhappiness; and still more, how wise and right it +is for children to tell at once when they have done wrong, instead of +trying to put the wrong right themselves. That was all she said, +except that, as she kissed her poor little boy, she told him to tell +no one else about it, except Martha, and that she would see what could +be done. +</p> + +<p> +Bee and Fixie said no more about it; but on that account, I daresay, +like the famous parrot, "they thought the more." And once or twice +that afternoon, Fixie <i>could</i> not help whispering to Bee, +"<i>Do</i> you fink mamma's going to get the beads hooked out?" or, "I +hope they won't hurt the mouses that lives down in the hole. <i>Do</i> +you fink the mouses has eaten it, p'raps?" +</p> + +<p> +Beata was sent early to bed, as she was not yet, of course, counted as +quite well; and both she and Fixie slept very soundly—whether they +dreamt of Rosy's beads or not I cannot tell. +</p> + +<p> +But the next morning Bee felt so much better that she begged to get up +quite early. +</p> + +<p> +"Not till after you've had your breakfast, Miss Bee," said Martha. +"But Mrs. Vincent says you may get up as soon as you like after that, +and then you and Miss Rosy and Master Fixie are all to go to her room. +She has something to show you." +</p> + +<p> +Bee and Fixie looked at each other. They felt sure <i>they</i> knew +what it was! But Rosy, who had also come to Bee's room to see how she +was, looked very mystified. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder what it can be," she said. "Can it be a parcel come for us? +And oh, Martha, by-the-bye, what was that knocking in the nursery last +night after we were in bed? I heard Robert's voice, I'm sure. What was +he doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"He came up to nail down something that was loose," said Martha, +quietly; but that was all she would say. +</p> + +<p> +They all three marched off to Mrs. Vincent's room as soon as Beata was +up and dressed. She was waiting for them. +</p> + +<p> +"I am so glad you are so much better this morning, Bee," she said, as +she kissed them all; "and now" she went on, "look here, I have a +surprise for you all." She lifted a handkerchief which she had laid +over something on a little table; and the three children, as they +pressed forward, could hardly believe their eyes. For there lay Rosy's +necklace, as bright and pretty as ever, and there beside it lay +another, just like it at the first glance, though, when it was closely +examined, one could see that the patterns on the beads were different; +but any way it was just as pretty. +</p> + +<p> +"Two," exclaimed Fixie, "<i>two</i> lace-beads, what <i>is</i> the +name? Has the mouses made a new one for Bee, dear Bee?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, for dear Bee," said his mother, smiling, "it is for Bee, though +it didn't come from the mouses;" and then she explained to them how +"Mr. Furniture" had sent the second necklace for Bee, but that she had +thought it better to keep it a while in hopes of Rosy's being found, +as she knew that Bee's pleasure in the pretty beads would not have +been half so great if Rosy were without hers. +</p> + +<p> +How happy they all looked! +</p> + +<p> +"What lotses of fairy stories we can make now!" said Fixie—"one for +every bead-lace, Bee!" +</p> + +<p> +"And, mamma," said Rosy, "I'll keep on being very good now. I daresay +I'll be dreadfully good soon; and Bee will be always good too, now, +because you know we've got our talismans." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vincent smiled, but she looked a little grave. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, mamma?" said Rosy. "Should I say talis<i>men</i>, not +talismans?" +</p> + +<p> +Her mother smiled more this time. +</p> + +<p> +"No, it wasn't that. 'Talismans' is quite right. I was only thinking +that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your +head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any +little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your +own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can +really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes +from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't +you, Rosy?" +</p> + +<p> +Rosy got a little red, and looked rather grave. +</p> + +<p> +"I <i>nearly</i> always remember to say my prayers," she answered. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, let the 'talisman' help you to remember, if ever you are +inclined to forget. And it isn't <i>only</i> at getting-up time and +going-to-bed time that one may <i>pray</i>, as I have often told you, +dear children. I really think, Rosy," she went on more lightly, "that +it would be nice for you and Bee to wear your necklaces always. I +shall like to see them, and I believe it would be almost impossible to +spoil or break them." +</p> + +<p> +"Only for my fairy stories," said Fixie, "I should have to walk all +round Bee and Rosy to see the beads. You will let them take them off, +<i>sometimes</i>, won't you, mamma?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my little man, provided you promise not to send them visits down +the 'mouses' holes,'" said his mother, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +This is all I can tell you for the present about Rosy and her brothers +and little Bee. There is more to tell, as you can easily fancy, for, +of course, Rosy did not grow "quite good" all of a sudden, though +there certainly was a great difference to be seen in her from the time +of her narrow escape—nor was Beata, in spite of <i>her</i> talisman, +without faults and failings. Nor was either of them without sorrows +and disappointments and difficulties in their lives, bright and happy +though they were. If you have been pleased with what I have told you, +you must let me know, and I shall try to tell you some more. +</p> + +<p> +And again, dear children,—little friends, whom I love so much, though +I may never have seen your faces, and though you only know me as +somebody who is <i>very</i> happy, when her little stories please +you—again, my darlings, I wish you the merriest of merry Christmases +for 1882, and every blessing in the new year that will soon be coming! +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="finis"> +THE END. +</p> + +<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + +***** This file should be named 6676-h.htm or 6676-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/7/6676/ + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1fe685 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #6676 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6676) diff --git a/old/6676-8.txt b/old/6676-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..54ec857 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6676-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5309 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rosy + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Release Date: March 16, 2014 [EBook #6676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + + + + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + + +ROSY + +BY + +MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY.' + + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: MANCHON] + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I. ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX + +CHAPTER II. BEATA + +CHAPTER III. TEARS + +CHAPTER IV. UPS AND DOWNS + +CHAPTER V. ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER + +CHAPTER VI. A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM + +CHAPTER VII. MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT + +CHAPTER VIII. HARD TO BEAR + +CHAPTER IX. THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR + +CHAPTER X. STINGS FOR BEE + +CHAPTER XI. A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT + +CHAPTER XII. GOOD OUT OF EVIL + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +MANCHON + +"BEATA, DEAR, THIS IS MY ROSY," SHE SAID + +ROSY AND MANCHON + +"WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?" HE SAID + +"DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?" ROSY REPEATED + +"WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?" SAID FIXIE + +BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH THEM + +"IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX. + + + "The highest not more + Than the height of a counsellor's bag." + --WORDSWORTH. + +Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat +fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth +till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows +over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a +house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the +floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all +to no purpose, and this made Rosy still more vexed. + +"Mamma," she said at last, for really it was too bad--wasn't it?--when +she had given herself such a lot of trouble to show how vexed she was, +that no one should take any notice. "_Mamma_" she repeated. + +But still no one answered, and obliged at last to turn round, for her +patience was at an end, Rosy saw that there was no one in the room. +Mamma had gone away! That was a great shame--really a _great_ +shame. Rosy was offended, and she wanted mamma to see how offended she +was, and mamma chose just that moment to leave the room. Rosy looked +round--there was no good going on pouting and frowning and drumming +and stamping to make mamma notice her if mamma wasn't there, and all +that sort of going on caused Rosy a good deal of trouble. So she left +off. But she wanted to quarrel with somebody. In fact, she felt that +she _must_ quarrel with somebody. She looked round again. The +only "somebody" to be seen was mamma's big, _big_ Persian cat, +whose name was "Manchon" (_why_, Rosy did not know; she thought +it a very stupid name), of whom, to tell the truth, Rosy was rather +afraid. For Manchon could look very grand and terrible when he reared +up his back, and swept about his magnificent tail; and though he had +never been known to hurt anybody, and mamma said he was the gentlest +of animals, Rosy felt sure that he could do all sorts of things to +punish his enemies if he chose. And knowing in her heart that she did +not like him, that she was indeed sometimes rather jealous of him, +Rosy always had a feeling that she must not take liberties with him, +as she could not help thinking he knew what she felt. + +[Illustration: ROSY AND MANCHON] + +No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his cushion +looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch his +ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up at +her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly +little girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still. + +"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't. +And I shan't like _her_. You needn't make faces at me," as +Manchon, disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort +of discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care +what mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I +_won't_ like her;" and then, without considering that there was +no one near to see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little +feet hard, and repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I +_won't_ like her." + +But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than +Rosy even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled +face, but not seeming very surprised. + +"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you." + +"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too +bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix." + +But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move. +Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater. + +"_Is_ you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he +came farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently +than before, "_do_ come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea +when Losy isn't there, and Fix is tired to-day." + +Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her. She +stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and hugged +him. + +"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if _you_ want +her. Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?" + +"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese +Fix _kite_ so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her +grasp. Instantly the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face. + +"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother +away from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her +cuddling you _skeesing_." + +Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But +just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix, +Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come +along. There's something good for tea." + +"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. +Again Rosy's mood changed. + +"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's +only troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take +Rosy's hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind +Colin--he's such a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, +appeared at the door, Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, +hand-in-hand, Rosy the picture of a model little elder sister. + +Colin just glanced at them and ran off. + +"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's +fluff for tea--strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all +the afternoon, and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said +cook said it was for the children!" + +Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed. + +There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on +the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said +there was nothing else. + +"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard +you yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'" + +"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I +didn't say it was for to-day--it's for to-morrow, Sunday." + +"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It +should be eaten at once." + +"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I +don't know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've +eaten it in the kitchen." + +"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've +always been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the +nursery," and he thumped impressively on the table. + +"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said +Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. + +"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and +speaking for the first time since she had come into the room. + +"Nonsense, Rosy," said Colin. "_I_ don't mind. Martha was only +joking." + +Rosy relapsed into silence, to Martha's relief. + +"If Miss Rosy is going to begin!" she had said to herself with fear +and trembling. She seldom or never ventured to joke with Rosy--few +people who knew her did--but Colin was the most good-natured of +children. She looked at Rosy rather curiously, taking care, however, +that the little girl should not notice it. + +"There's something the matter with her," thought Martha, for Rosy +looked really buried in gloom; "perhaps her mamma's been telling her +what she told me this morning. I was sure Miss Rosy wouldn't like it, +and perhaps it's natural, so spoilt as she's been, having everything +her own way for so long. One would be sorry for her if she'd only let +one," and her voice was kind and gentle as she asked the little girl +if she wouldn't like some more tea. + +Rosy shook her head. + +"I don't want nothing," she said. + +"What's the matter, Rosy?" said Colin. + +"Losy's bovvered," said Fixie. + +Colin gave a whistle. + +"Oh!" he said, meaningly, "I expect I know what it's all about. I +know, too, Rosy. You're afraid your nose is going to be put out of +joint, I expect." + +"Master Colin, don't," said Martha, warningly, but it was too late. +Rosy dashed off her seat, and running round to Colin's side of the +table, doubled up her little fist, and hit her brother hard with all +her baby force, then, without waiting to see if she had hurt him or +not, she rushed from the room without speaking, made straight for her +own little bedroom, and, throwing herself down on the floor with her +head on a chair, burst into a storm of miserable, angry crying. + +"I wish I was back with auntie--oh, I do, I do," she said, among her +sobs. "Mamma doesn't love me like Colin and Pixie. If she did, she +wouldn't go and bring a nasty, horrible little girl to live with us. I +hate her, and I shall always hate her--_nasty_ little thing!" + +The nursery was quiet after Rosy left it--quiet but sad. + +"Dear, dear," said Martha, "if people would but think what they're +doing when they spoil children! Poor Miss Rosy, but she is naughty! +Has it hurt you, Master Colin?" + +"No," said Colin, _one_ of whose eyes nevertheless was crying +from Rosy's blow, "not much. But it's so _horrid_, going on like +this." + +"Of course it is, and _why_ you can go on teasing your sister, +knowing her as you do, I can't conceive," said Martha. "If it was only +for peace sake, I'd let her alone, I would, if I was you, Master +Colin." + +Martha had rather a peevish and provoking way of finding fault or +giving advice. Just now her voice sounded almost as if she was going +to cry. But Colin was a sensible boy. He knew what she said was true, +so he swallowed down his vexation, and answered good-naturedly, + +"Well, I'll try and not tease. But Rosy isn't like anybody else. She +flies into a rage for just nothing, and it's always those people +somehow that make one _want_ to tease them. But, I say, Martha, I +really do _wonder_ how we'll get on when--" + +A warning glance stopped him, and he remembered that little Felix knew +nothing of what he was going to speak about, and that his mother did +not wish anything more said of it just yet. So Colin said no more--he +just whistled, as he always did if he was at a loss about anything, +but his whistle sometimes seemed to say a good deal. + +How was it that Colin was so good-tempered and reasonable, Felix so +gentle and obedient, and Rosy, poor Rosy, so very different? For they +were her very own brothers, she was their very own sister. There must +have been some difference, I suppose, naturally. Rosy had always been +a fiery little person, but the great pity was that she had been sadly +spoilt. For some years she had been away from her father and mother, +who had been abroad in a warm climate, where delicate little Felix was +born. They had not dared to take Colin and Rosy with them, but Colin, +who was already six years old when they left England, had had the good +fortune to be sent to a very nice school, while Rosy had stayed +altogether with her aunt, who had loved her dearly, but in wishing to +make her perfectly happy had made the mistake of letting her have her +own way in everything. And when she was eight years old, and her +parents came home, full of delight to have their children all together +again, the disappointment was great of finding Rosy so unlike what +they had hoped. And as months passed, and all her mother's care and +advice and gentle firmness seemed to have no effect, Rosy's true +friends began to ask themselves what should be done. The little girl +was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other +people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what +Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead +of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I +will soon tell you what it was. + +Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper +tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is +_nothing_ more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid +kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. Not like +the rather _nice_ tiredness one feels when one has been working +hard either at one's own business, or, _still_ nicer, at helping +other people--the sort of pleasant fatigue with which one lays one's +head on the pillow, feeling that all the lessons are learnt, and well +learnt, for to-morrow morning, or that the bit of garden is quite, +quite clear of weeds, and father or mother will be so pleased to see +it! But to fall half asleep on the floor, or on your bed, with +wearied, swollen eyes, and panting breath and aching head, feeling or +fancying that no one loves you--that the world is all wrong, and there +is nothing sweet or bright or pretty in it, no place for you, and no +use in being alive--all these _miserable_ feelings that are the +natural and the right punishment of yielding to evil tempers, +forgetting selfishly all the pain and trouble you cause--what +_can_ be more wretched? Indeed, I often think no punishment that +can be given can be half so bad as the punishment that comes of +itself--that is joined to the sin by ties that can never be undone. +And the shame of it all! Rosy was not quite what she had been when she +first came home to her mother--she was beginning to feel ashamed when +she had yielded to her temper--and even this, though a small +improvement, was always something--one little step in the right way, +one little sign of better things. + +She was not asleep--scarcely half asleep, only stupid and dazed with +crying--when the door opened softly, and some one peeped in. It was +Fixie. He came creeping in very quietly--when was Fixie anything but +quiet?--and with a very distressed look on his tiny, white face. +Something came over Rosy--a mixture of shame and sorrow, and also some +curiosity to see what her little brother would do; and these feelings +mixed together made her shut her eyes tighter and pretend to be +asleep. + +Fixie came close up to her, peeped almost into her face, so that if +she had been really asleep I rather think it would have awakened her, +except that all he did was so _very_ gentle and like a little +mouse; and then, quite satisfied that she was fast asleep, he slowly +settled himself down on the floor by her side. + +"Poor Losy," he said softly. "Fixie are so solly for you. Poor +Losy--why can't her be good? Why doesn't God make Losy good all in a +minute? Fixie always akses God to make her good"--he stopped in his +whispered talk, suddenly--he had fancied for a moment that Rosy was +waking, and it was true that she had moved. She had given a sort of +wriggle, for, sweet and gentle as Fixie was, she did not at all like +being spoken of as _not_ good. She didn't see why he need pray to +God to make _her_ good, more than other people, she said to +herself, and for half a second she was inclined to jump up and tell +Pix to go away; it wasn't his business whether she was good or +naughty, and she wouldn't have him in her room. But she did _not_ +do so,--she lay still again, and she was glad she had, for poor Fixie +stopped in his talking to pat her softly. + +"Don't wake, poor Losy," he said. "Go on sleeping, Losy, if you are so +tired, and Fix will watch aside you and take care of you." + +He seemed to have forgotten all about her being naughty--he sat beside +her, patting her softly, and murmuring a sort of cooing "Hush, hush, +Losy," as if she were a baby, that was very touching, like the murmur +of a sad little dove. And by and by, with going on repeating it so +often, his own head began to feel confused and drowsy--it dropped +lower and lower, and at last found a resting-place on Rosy's knees. +Rosy, who had really been getting sleepy, half woke up when she felt +the weight of her little brother's head and shoulder upon her--she +moved him a little so that he should lie more comfortably, and put one +arm round him. + +"Dear Fixie," she said to herself, "I do love him, and I'm sure he +loves me," and her face grew soft and gentle--and when Rosy's face +looked like that it was very pretty and sweet. But it quickly grew +dark and gloomy again as another thought struck her. "If Fixie loves +that nasty little girl better than me or as much--if he loves her +_at all_, I'll--I don't know what I'll do. I'd almost hate him, +and I'm sure I'll hate her, any way. Mamma says she's such a dear good +little girl--that means that everybody'll say _I'm_ naughtier +than ever." + +But just then Fixie moved a little and whispered something in his +sleep. + +"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught +the sound of her voice. + +"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again. + +And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BEATA. + + + "How will she be--fair-haired or dark, + Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet? + --All that I care not for, so she be no phraser." + --OLD PLAY. + +"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin, +She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and +Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And +what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she +caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight. + +"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it +doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds +of times. It's nothing, only--" and Colin gave a sort of wriggle. + +"Only what?" said his mother. + +"I do so wish Rosy wouldn't be like that. It spoils everything. Just +this Easter holiday time too, when I thought we'd be so happy." + +His mother's face grew still graver. + +"Do you mean that it was _Rosy_ that struck you--that hit you in +the eye?" she said. + +Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I +teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put +out of joint when Be--I can't say her name--when the little girl +comes." + +"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained +to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I +thought you would have tried to help me, Colin." + +Colin felt very vexed with himself. + +"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I +could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the +way, and one has to learn not to mind it." + +"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn +not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just +now, especially not about little Beata." + +"Mother," said Colin. + +"Well, my boy," said his mother. + +"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say." + +"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I +daresay you can call her so." + +"Yes, that would be much better," said Colin, in a more contented +tone. + +"Only," said his mother again, and she couldn't help smiling a little +when she said it, "if you call her 'Bee,' don't make it the beginning +of any new teasing by calling Rosy 'Wasp.'" + +"Mother!" said Colin. "I daresay I would never have thought of it. But +I promise you I won't." + +This was what had upset Rosy so terribly--the coming of little Beata. +She--Beata--was the child of friends of Rosy's parents. They had been +much together in India, and had returned to England at the same time. +So Beata was already well known to Rosy's mother, and Fixie, too, had +learnt to look upon her almost as a sister. Beata's father and mother +were obliged to go back to India, and it had been settled that their +little girl was to be left at home with her grandmother. But just a +short time before they were to leave, her grandmother had a bad +illness, and it was found she would not be well enough to take charge +of the child. And in the puzzle about what they should do with her, it +had struck her father and mother that perhaps their friends, Rosy's +parents, might be able to help them, and they had written to ask them; +and so it had come about that little Beata was to come to live with +them. It had all seemed so natural and nice. Rosy's mother was so +pleased about it, for she thought it would be just what Rosy needed to +make her a pleasanter and more reasonable little girl. + +"Beata is such a nice child," she said to Rosy's father when they were +talking about it, "and not one bit spoilt. I think it is _sure_ +to do Rosy good," and, full of pleasure in the idea, she told Rosy +about it. + +But--one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him +drink, says the old proverb--Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the +very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming +was on purpose to vex _her_, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most +things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what +had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her--when she would +have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! + +Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say +no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as +he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his +delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing +in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt +by her _exactingness_. Fixie must love her as much or better than +anybody--he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. +That was how she sometimes talked to him, and it puzzled and +frightened him--he was such a very little fellow, you see. And +_mother_ had never told him that loving other people too made his +love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata +had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to +say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy +must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had +been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. + +Rosy's mother thought over what Colin had told her, and settled in her +own mind that it was better to take no notice of it in speaking to +Rosy. + +"If it had been a quarrel about anything else," she said to herself, +"it would have been different. But about Beata I want to say nothing +more to vex Rosy, or wake her unkind feelings." + +But Rosy's mother did not yet quite know her little girl. There was +one thing about her which was _not_ spoilt, and that was her +honesty. + +When the children came down that morning to see their mother, as they +always did, a little after breakfast, Rosy's face wore a queer look. + +"Good morning, little people," said their mother. "I was rather late +this morning, do you know? That was why I didn't come to see you in +the nursery. I am going to write to your aunt to-day. Would you like +to put in a little letter, Rosy?" + +"No, thank you," said Rosy. + +"Then shall I just send your love? and Fixie's too?" said her mother. +She went on speaking because she noticed the look in Rosy's face, but +she wanted not to seem to do so, thinking Rosy would then gradually +forget about it all. + +"I don't want to send my love," said Rosy. "If you say I _must_, +I suppose I must, but I don't _want_ to send it." + +"Do you think your love is not worth having, my poor little girl?" +said her mother, smiling a little sadly, as she drew Rosy to her. +"Don't you believe we all love you, Rosy, and want you to love us?" + +"I don't know," said Rosy, gloomily. "I don't think anybody can love +me, for Martha's always saying if I do naughty things _you_ won't +love me and father won't love me, and nobody." + +"Then why don't you leave off doing naughty things, Rosy?" said her +mother. + +"Oh, I can't," Rosy replied, coolly. "I suppose I was spoilt at +auntie's, and now I'm too old to change. I don't care. It isn't my +fault: it's auntie's." + +"Rosy," said her mother, gravely, "who ever said so to you? Where did +you ever hear such a thing?" + +"Lots of times," Rosy replied. "Martha's said so, and Colin says so +when he's vexed with me. He's always said so," she added, as if she +didn't quite like owning it, but felt that she must. "He said I was +spoilt before you came home, but auntie wouldn't let him. _She_ +thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she +thought so too. + +"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if +you ask _yourself_, Rosy, you will very often find that you are +not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it +is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You +must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt +was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her." + +"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit +Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. I was going to tell you--I meant to +tell you." + +"And are you sorry for it now, Rosy dear?" asked her mother, very +gently. + +Rosy looked at her in surprise. Her mother spoke so gently. She had +rather expected her to be shocked--she had almost, if you can +understand, _wished_ her to be shocked, so that she could say to +herself how naughty everybody thought her, how it was no use her +trying to be good and all the rest of it--and she had told over what +she had done in a hard, _un_sorry way, almost on purpose. But +now, when her mother spoke so kindly, a different feeling came into +her heart. She looked at her mother, and then she looked down on the +ground, and then, almost to her own surprise, she answered, almost +humbly, + +"I don't know. I don't think I was, but I think I am a little sorry +now." + +Seeing her so unusually gentle, her mother went a little further. +"What made you so vexed with Colin?" she asked. Rosy's face hardened. + +"Mother," she said, "you'd better not ask me. It was because of +something he said that I don't want to tell you." + +"About Beata?" asked her mother. + +"Well," said Rosy, "if you know about it, it isn't my fault if you are +vexed. I don't want her to come--I don't want _any_ little girl +to come, because I know I shan't like her. I like boys better than +girls, and I don't like good little girls _at all_." + +"Rosy," said her mother, "you are talking so sillily that if Fixie +even talked like that I should be quite surprised. I won't answer you. +I will not say any more about Beata--you know what I wish, and what is +right, and so I will leave it to you. And I will give you a kiss, my +little girl, to show you that I want to trust you to try to do right +about this." + +She was stooping to kiss her, when Rosy stopped her. + +"Thank you, mother," she said. "But I don't think I can take the kiss +like that--I don't _want_ to like the little girl." + +"Rosy!" exclaimed her mother, almost in despair. Then another thought +struck her. She bent down again and kissed the child. "I _give_ +you the kiss, Rosy," she said, "hoping it will at least make you +_wish_ to please me." + +"Oh," said Rosy, "I do want to please you, mother, about everything +_except_ that." + +But her mother thought it best to take no further notice, only in her +own heart she said to herself, "Was there _ever_ such a child?" + +In spite of all she had said Rosy felt, what she would not have owned +for the world, a good deal of curiosity about the little girl who was +to come to live with them. And now and then, in her cross and unhappy +moods, a sort of strange confused _hope_ would creep over her +that Beata's coming would bring her a kind of good luck. + +"Everybody says she's so good, and everybody loves her," thought Rosy, +"p'raps I'll find out how she does it." + +And the days passed on, on the whole, after the storm I have told you +about, rather more peaceably than before, till one evening when Rosy +was saying good-night her mother said to her quietly, + +"Rosy, I had a letter this morning from Beata's uncle; he is bringing +her to-morrow. She will be here about four o'clock in the afternoon." + +"To-morrow!" said Rosy, and then, without saying any more, she kissed +her mother and went to bed. + +She went to sleep that evening, and she woke the next morning with a +strange jumble of feelings in her mind, and a strange confusion of +questions waiting to be answered. + +"What would Beata be like? She was sure to be pretty--all people that +other people love very much were pretty, Rosy thought. And she +believed that she herself was very ugly, which, I may tell you, +children, as Rosy won't hear what we say, was quite a mistake. +Everybody is a _little_ pretty who is sweet and good, for though +being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the +shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines +smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives +the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, +alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away +the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good +fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to +be pretty. She had very soft bright hair, and a very white skin, and +large brown eyes that looked lovely when she let sweet thoughts and +feelings shine through them; but though she had many faults, she was +not vain, and she really thought she was not pleasant-looking at all. + +"Beata is sure to be pretty," thought Rosy. "I daresay she'll have +beautiful black hair, and blue eyes like Lady Albertine." Albertine +was Rosy's best doll. "And I daresay she'll be very clever, and play +the piano and speak French far better than me. I don't mind that. I +like pretty people, and I don't mind people being clever. What I don't +like is, people who are dedfully _good_ always going on about how +good they are, and how naughty _other_ people is. If she doesn't +do that way I shan't mind so much, but I'm sure she _will_ do +that way. Yes, Manchon," she said aloud, "I'm sure she will, and you +needn't begin 'froo'in' about it." + +For Rosy was in the drawing-room when all these thoughts were passing +through her mind--she was there with her afternoon frock on, and a +pretty muslin apron, all nice to meet Beata and her uncle, who were +expected very soon. And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite +peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any +good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," +she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the +cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the +credit of reading her very thoughts! + +The door opened, and her mother came in, leading Fixie by the hand and +Colin just behind. + +"Oh, you're ready, Rosy," she said. "That's right. They should be here +very soon." + +"Welly soon," repeated Fixie. "Oh, Fixie will be so glad to see Beenie +again!" + +"What a stupid name," said Rosy. "_We_'re not to call her that, +are we, mother?" + +She spoke in rather a grand, grown-up tone, but her mother knew she +put that on sometimes when she was not really feeling unkind. + +"_I_ shall call her Bee," said Colin. "It would do very well, as +we've"--he stopped suddenly--"as we've got a wasp already," he had +been going to say--it seemed to come so naturally--when his mother's +warning came back to his mind. He caught her eye, and he saw that she +couldn't help smiling and he found it so difficult not to burst out +laughing that he stuffed his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth, and +went to the window, where he pretended to see something very +interesting. Rosy looked up suspiciously. + +"What were you going to say, Colin?" she asked. "I'm sure--" but she +too stopped, for just then wheels were heard on the gravel drive +outside. + +"Here they are," said mother. "Will you come to the door to welcome +Beata, Rosy?" + +Rosy came forward, though rather slowly. Colin was already out in the +hall, and Fixie was dancing along beside his mother. Rosy kept behind. +The carriage, that had gone to the station to meet the travellers, was +already at the door, and the footman was handing out one or two +umbrellas, rugs, and so on. Then a gray-haired gentleman, whom Rosy, +peeping through a side window, did not waste her attention on--"He is +quite old," she said to herself--got out, and lifted down a much +smaller person--smaller than Rosy herself, and a good deal smaller +than the Beata of Rosy's fancies. The little person sprang forward, +and was going to kiss Rosy's mother, when she caught sight of the tiny +white face beside her. + +"O Fixie, dear little Fixie!" she said, stooping to hug him, and then +she lifted her own face for Fixie's mother to kiss. At once, almost +before shaking hands with the gentleman, Rosy's mother looked round +for her, and Rosy had to come forward. + +"Beata, dear, this is my Rosy," she said; and something in the tone of +the "my" touched Rosy. It seemed to say, "I will put no one before +you, my own little girl--no stranger, however sweet--and you will, on +your side, try to please me, will you not?" So Rosy's face, though +grave, had a nice look the first time Beata saw it, and the first +words she said as they kissed each other were, "O Rosy, how pretty you +are! I shall love you very much." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +TEARS. + + + "'Twere most ungrateful."--V. S. LAKDOH. + +Beata was not pretty. That was the first thing Rosy decided about her. +She was small, and rather brown and thin. She had dark hair, certainly +like Lady Albertine's in colour, but instead of splendid curls it was +cut quite short--as short almost as Colin's--and her eyes were neither +very large nor very blue. They were nice gray eyes, that could look +sad, but generally looked merry, and about the rest of her face there +was nothing very particular. + +Rosy looked at her for a moment or two, and she looked at Rosy. Then +at last Rosy said, + +"Will you come into the drawing-room?" for she saw that her mother and +Beata's uncle were already on their way there. + +"Thank you," said Beata, and then they quietly followed the big +people. Rosy's father was not at home, but he would be back soon, her +mother was telling the gray-haired gentleman, and then she went on to +ask him how "they" had got off, if it had been comfortably, and so on. + +"Oh yes," he replied, "it was all quite right. Poor Maud!--" + +"That's my mamma," said Beata in a low voice, and Rosy, turning +towards her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. + +"What a queer little girl she is!" thought Rosy, but she did not say +so. + +"--Poor Maud," continued the gentleman. "It is a great comfort to her +to leave the child in such good hands." + +"I hope she will be happy," said Rosy's mother. "I will do my best to +make her so." + +"I am very sure of that," said Beata's uncle. "It is a great +disappointment to her grandmother not to have her with her. She is a +dear child. Last week at the parting she behaved like a brick." + +Both little girls heard this, and Beata suddenly began speaking rather +fast, and Rosy saw that her cheeks had got very red. + +"Do you think your mamma would mind if I went upstairs to take off my +hat? I think my face must be dirty with the train," said Beata. + +"Don't you like staying here?" said Rosy, rather crossly. "_I_ +think you should stay till mother tells it to go," for she wanted to +hear what more her mother and the gentleman said to each other, the +very thing that made Beata uncomfortable. + +Beata looked a little frightened. + +"I didn't mean to be rude," she said. Then suddenly catching sight of +Manchon, she exclaimed, "Oh, what a beautiful cat! May I go and stroke +him?" + +"If you like," said Rosy, "but he isn't _really_ a nice cat." And +then, seeing that Beata looked at her with curiosity, she forgot about +listening to the big people, and, getting up, led Beata to Manchon's +cushion. + +"Everybody says he's pretty," she went on, "but I don't think so, +because _I_ think he's a kind of bad fairy. You don't know how he +froos sometimes, in a most horrible way, as if he was mocking you. He +knows I don't like him, for whenever I'm vexed he looks pleased." + +"Does he really?" said Beata. "Then I don't like him. I shouldn't look +pleased if you were vexed, Rosy." + +"Wouldn't you?" said Rosy, doubtfully. + +"No, I'm sure I wouldn't. I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has +such an unkind dis--I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you +know." + +"Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its +only _me_ Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. _I'm_ +not the favourite. I _was_ at my aunty's though, that I was--but +it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head +dolefully. + +"Who is Nelson?" asked Beata. + +"Aunty's maid. She cried when I came away, and she said it was because +she was so sorry for me. It wouldn't be the same as _there_, she +said. I shouldn't be thought as much of with two brothers, and Nelson +knew that my mamma was dreadfully strict. I daresay she'd be still +more sorry for me if she knew--" Rosy stopped short. + +"Why don't you go on?" said Beata. + +"Oh, I was going to say something I don't want to say. Perhaps it +would vex you," said Rosy. + +Beata considered a little. + +"I'm not very easily vexed," she said at last. "I think I'd like you +to go on saying it if you don't mind--unless its anything naughty." + +"Oh no," said Rosy, "it isn't anything naughty. I was going to say +Nelson would be still more sorry for me if she knew _you_ had +come." + +"_Me!_" said Beata, opening her eyes. "Why? She can't know +anything about me--I mean she couldn't know anything to make her think +I would be unkind to you." + +"Oh no, it isn't that. Only you see some little girls would think that +if another little girl came to live with them it wouldn't be so +nice--that perhaps their mammas and brothers and everybody would pet +the other little girl more than them." + +"And do you think that?" said Beata, anxiously. A feeling like a cold +chill seemed to have touched her heart. She had never before thought +of such things--loving somebody else "better," not being "the +favourite," and so on. Could it all be true, and could it, +_worst_ of all, be true that her coming might be the cause of +trouble and vexation to other people--at least to Rosy? She had come +so full of love and gratitude, so ready to like everybody; she had +said so many times to her mother, "I'm _sure_ I'll be happy. I'll +write and tell you how happy I am," swallowing bravely the grief of +leaving her mother, and trying to cheer her at the parting by telling +her this--it seemed very hard and strange to little Beata to be told +that _anybody_ could think she could be the cause of unhappiness +to any one. "Do _you_ think that?" she repeated. + +Rosy looked at her, and something in the little eager face gave her +what she would have called a "sorry" feeling. But mixed with this was +a sense of importance--she liked to think that she was very good for +not feeling what she said "some little girls" would have felt. + +"No," she said, rather patronisingly, "I don't think I do. I only said +_some_ little girls would. No, I think I shall like you, if only +you don't make a fuss about how good you are, and set them all against +me. I settled before you came that I wouldn't mind if you were pretty +or very clever. And you're not pretty, and I daresay you're not very +clever. So I won't mind, if you don't make everybody praise you up for +being so _good_." + +Beata's eyes filled with tears. + +"I don't want anybody to praise me," she said. "I only wanted you all +to love me," and again Rosy had the sorry feeling, though she did not +feel that she was to blame. + +"I only told her what I really thought," she said to herself; but +before she had time to reflect that there are two ways of telling what +one thinks, and that sometimes it is not only foolish, but wrong and +unkind, to tell of thoughts and feelings which we should try to +_leave off_ having, her mother turned round to speak to her. + +"I think we should take Beata upstairs to her room, Rosy," she said. +"You must be tired, dear," and the kind words and tone, so like what +her own mother's would have been, made the cup of Beata's distress +overflow. She gave a little sob and then burst into tears. Rosy half +sprang forward--she was on the point of throwing her arms round Beata +and whispering, "I _will_ love you, dear, I _do_ love you;" +but alas, the strange foolish pride that so often checked her good +feelings, held her back, and jealousy whispered, "If you begin making +such a fuss about her, she'll think she's to be before you, and very +likely, if you seem so sorry, she'll tell your mother you made her +cry." So Rosy stood still, grave and silent, but with some trouble in +her face, and her mother felt a little, just a very little vexed with +Beata for beginning so dolefully. + +"It will discourage Rosy," she said to herself, "just when I was so +anxious for Beata to win her affection from the first." + +And Beata's uncle, too, looked disappointed. Just when he had been +praising her so for her bravery! + +"Why, my little girl," he said, "you didn't cry like this even when +you said good-bye at Southampton." + +"That must be it," said Rosy's mother, who was too kind to feel vexed +for more than an instant; "the poor child has put too much force on +herself, and that always makes one break down afterwards. Come, dear +Beata, and remember how much your mother wanted you to be happy with +us." + +She held out her hand, but to her surprise Beata still hung back, +clinging to her uncle. + +"Oh, please," she whispered, "let me go back with you, uncle. I don't +care how dull it is--I shall not be any trouble to grandmother while +she is ill. Do let me go back--I cannot stay here." + +Beata's uncle was kind, but he had not much experience of children. + +"Beata," he said, and his voice was almost stern, "it is impossible. +All is arranged here for you. You will be sorry afterwards for giving +way so foolishly. You would not wish to seem _ungrateful_, my +little girl, for all your kind friends here are going to do for you?" + +The word ungrateful had a magical effect. Beata raised her head from +his shoulder, and digging in her pocket for her little handkerchief, +wiped away the tears, and then looking up, her face still quivering, +said gently, "I won't cry any more, uncle; I _will_ be good. +Indeed, I didn't mean to be naughty." + +"That's right," he answered, encouragingly. And then Rosy's mother +again held out her hand, and Beata took it timidly, and followed by +Rosy, whose mind was in a strange jumble, they went upstairs to the +room that was to be the little stranger's. + +It was as pretty a little room as any child could have wished +for--bright and neat and comfortable, with a pleasant look-out on the +lawn at the side of the house, while farther off, over the trees, the +village church, or rather its high spire, could be seen. For a moment +Beata forgot her new troubles. + +"Oh, how pretty!" she said, "Is this to be my room? I never had such a +nice one. But when they come home from India for always, papa and +mamma are going to get a pretty house, and choose all the +furniture--like here, you know, only not so pretty, I daresay, for a +house like this would cost such a great deal of money." + +She was chattering away to Rosy's mother quite in her old way, greatly +to Rosy's mother's pleasure, when she--Mrs. Vincent, opened a door +Beata had not before noticed. + +"This is Rosy's room," she said. "I thought it would be nice for you +to be near each other. And I know you are very tidy, Bee, so you will +set Rosy a good example--eh, Rosy?" + +She said it quite simply, and Beata would have taken it in the same +way half an hour before, but looking round the little girl caught an +expression on Rosy's face which brought back all her distress. It +seemed to say, "Oh, you're beginning to be praised already, I see," +but Rosy's mother had not noticed it, for Rosy had turned quickly +away. When, however, Mrs. Vincent, surprised at Beata's silence, +looked at her again, all the light had faded out of the little face, +and again she seemed on the point of tears. + +"How strangely changeable she is," thought Mrs. Vincent, "I am sure +she used not to be so; she was merry and pleased just as she seemed a +moment or two ago." + +"What is the matter, dear?" she said. "You look so distressed again. +Did it bring back your mother--what I said, I mean?" + +"I think--I suppose so," Beata began, but there she stopped. "'No," +she said bravely, "it wasn't that. But, please--I don't want to be +rude--but, please, would you not praise me--not for being tidy or +anything." + +How gladly at that moment would she have said, "I'm not tidy. Mamma +always says I'm not," had it been true. But it was not--she was a very +neat and methodical child, dainty and trim in everything she had to do +with, as Rosy's mother remembered. + +"What _shall_ I do?" she said to herself. "It seems as if only my +being naughty would make Rosy like me, and keep me from doing her +harm. What _can_ I do?" and a longing came over her to throw her +arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck, and tell her her troubles and ask her +to explain it all to her. But her faithfulness would not let her think +of such a thing. "That _would_ do Rosy harm," she remembered, "and +perhaps she meant to be kind when she spoke that way. It was kinder +than to have kept those feelings to me in her heart and never told me. +But I don't know what to do." + +For already she felt that Mrs. Vincent thought her queer and +changeable, _rude_ even, perhaps, though she only smiled at +Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she +said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite. + +"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised." + +Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and +telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon +be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and +she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. + +"Miss Rosy," she said, "will you please to go into the nursery and put +away your dolls' things before tea. They're all over the table. I'd +have done it in a minute, but you have your own ways and I was afraid +of doing it wrong." + +She spoke kindly and cheerfully. + +"What a nice nurse!" thought Beata, with a feeling of relief--a sort +of hope that Martha might help to make things easier for her somehow, +especially as there was something very kindly in the way the maid +began to help her to unfasten her jacket and lay aside her travelling +things. To her surprise, Rosy made no answer. + +"Miss Rosy, please," said Martha again, and then Rosy looked up +crossly. + +"'Miss Rosy, please,'" she said mockingly. "You're just putting on all +that politeness to show off. No, I won't please. You can put the dolls +away yourself, and, if you do them wrong, it's your own fault. You've +seen lots of times how I do them." + +"Miss Rosy!" said Martha, as if she wanted to beg Rosy to be good, and +her voice was still kind, though her face had got very red when Rosy +told her she was "showing off." + +Beata stood in shocked silence. She had had no idea that Rosy could +speak so, and, sad as it was, Martha did not seem surprised. + +"I wonder if she is often like that," thought little Bee, and in +concern for Rosy her own troubles began to be forgotten. + +They went into the nursery to tea. Martha had cleared away Rosy's +things and had done her best to lay them as the little girl liked. But +before sitting down to the table, Rosy would go to the drawer where +they were kept, and was in the middle of scolding at finding something +different from what she liked when Colin and Fixie came in to tea. + +"I say, Rosy," said Colin, "you might let us have one tea-time in +peace,--Bee's first evening." + +Rosy turned round upon him. + +"_I_'m not a pretender," she said. "_I_'m not going to sham +being good and all that, like Martha and you, because Bee has just +come." + +"I don't know what you've been saying to Martha," said Colin, "but I +can't see why you need begin at me about shamming before Bee. You've +not seen me for two minutes since she came. What's the matter, Fix? +Wait a minute and I'll help you," for Fixie was tugging away at his +chair, and could not manage to move it as he wanted. + +"I want to sit, aside Bee," he said. + +Rosy threw an angry look at him--he understood what she meant. + +"I'll sit, aside you again to-morrow, Losy," he hastened to say. But +it did no good. Rosy was now determined to find nothing right. There +came a little change in their thoughts, however, for the kitchen-maid +appeared at the door with a plate of nice cold ham and some of the +famous strawberry jam. + +"Cook thought the young lady would be hungry after her journey," she +said. + +"Yes, indeed," cried Colin, "the young lady's very hungry, and so are +the young gentlemen, and so is the other young lady--aren't you, +Rosy?" he said good-naturedly, turning to her. "He is really a very +kind boy," thought Beata. "Tell cook, with my best compliments, that +we are very much obliged to her, and she needn't expect to see any of +the ham or the strawberry jam again." + +It was later than the usual tea-hour, so all the children were hungry +and, thanks to this, the meal passed quietly. Beata said little, +though she could not help laughing at some of Colin's funny speeches. +But for the shock of Rosy's temper and the confusion in her mind that +Rosy's way of speaking had made, Bee would have been quite happy, as +happy at least, she would have said, "as I can be till mamma comes +home again," but Rosy seemed to throw a cloud over everybody. There +was never any knowing from one minute to another how she was going to +be. Only one thing became plainer to Bee. It was not only because +_she_ had come that Rosy was cross and unhappy. It was easy to +see that she was at all times very self-willed and queer-tempered, +and, though Bee was too good and kind to be glad of this, yet, as she +was a very sensible little girl, it made things look clearer to her. + +"I will not begin fancying it is because I am in her place, or +anything like that," she said to herself. "I will be as good as I can +be, and perhaps she will get to like me," and Rosy was puzzled and +perhaps, in her strange contradiction, a little vexed at the brighter +look that came over Bee's face, and the cheery way in which she spoke. +For at the first, when she saw how much Bee had taken to heart what +she said, though her _best_ self felt sorry for the little +stranger, she had liked the feeling that she would be a sort of master +over her, and that the fear of seeming to take _her_ place would +prevent Bee from making friends with the others more than she, Rosy, +chose to allow. + +Poor Rosy! She would have herself been shocked had she seen written +down in plain words all the feelings her jealous temper caused her. +But almost the worst of jealousy is that it hides itself in so many +dresses, and gives itself so many names, sometimes making itself seem +quite a right and proper feeling; often, very often making one think +oneself a poor, ill-treated martyr, when in reality, the martyrs are +the unfortunate people that have to live with the foolish person who +has allowed jealousy to become his master. + +Beata's uncle left that evening, but before he went away he had the +pleasure of seeing his little niece quite herself again. + +"That's right," he said, as he bade her good-bye, "I don't know what +came over you this afternoon." + +Beata did not say anything, but she just kissed her uncle, and +whispered, "Give my love to dear grandmother, and tell her I am going +to try to be very good." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +UPS AND DOWNS. + + + "Mary, Mary, quite contrary."--NURSERY RHYME. + +That night when Bee was in her little bed, though not yet asleep, for +the strangeness of everything, and all she had to think over of what +had happened in the day, had kept her awake longer than usual, she +heard some one softly open the door and look in. + +"Are you awake still, dear?" said a voice which Bee knew in a moment +was that of Rosy's mother. + +"Yes, oh yes. I'm quite awake. I'm not a bit sleepy," Beata answered. + +"But you must try to go to sleep soon," said Mrs. Vincent. "Rosy is +fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late +for little girls to be awake." + +"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the +first night--while everything is--different, you know--and new." + +"And a little strange and lonely, as it were--just at first. Don't be +afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so." + +"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking +at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with +you and Fixie again." + +"I'm very glad of that," said Mrs. Vincent. "And was it not then the +strange feeling that made you so unhappy this afternoon for a little?" + +Beata hesitated. + +"Tell me, dear," said Mrs. Vincent. "You know if I am to be a 'make-up +mother' for a while, you must talk to me as much as you _can_, as +if I were your own mother." + +She listened rather anxiously for Bee's answer, for two or three +little things--among them something Colin had said of the bad temper +Rosy had been in at tea-time--had made her afraid there had been some +reason she did not understand for Beata's tears. Bee lay still for a +minute or two. Then she said gently and rather shyly, + +"I am so sorry, but I don't know what's right to do. Isn't it +sometimes difficult to know?" + +"Yes, sometimes it is." Then Mrs. Vincent, in her turn, was silent for +a minute, and at last she said, + +"Would you very much rather I did not ask you why you cried?" + +"Oh yes," cried Bee, "much, much rather." + +"Very well then, but you will promise me that if the same thing makes +you cry again, you _will_ tell me?" + +"_Should_ I?" said Bee. "I thought--I thought it wasn't right to +tell tales," she added so innocently that Mrs. Vincent could not help +smiling to herself. + +"It is not right," she said. "But what I ask you to promise is not to +tell tales. It is to tell me what makes you unhappy, so that I may +explain it or put it right. I could not do my duty among you and my +other children unless I knew how things were. It is the _spirit_ +that makes tell-tales--the telling over for the sake of getting others +blamed or punished--_that_ is what is wrong." + +"I see," said Beata slowly. "At least I think I see a little, and I'll +try to think about it. I'll promise to tell you if anything makes me +unhappy, _really_ unhappy, but I don't think it will now. I think +I understand better what things I needn't mind." + +"Very well, dear. Then good-night," and Rosy's mother kissed Bee very +kindly, though in her heart she felt sad. It was plain to her that +Rosy had made Bee unhappy, and as she passed through Rosy's room she +stopped a moment by the bed-side and looked at the sleeping child. +Nothing could be prettier than Rosy asleep--her lovely fair hair made +a sort of pale golden frame to her face, and her cheeks had a +beautiful pink flush. But while her mother was watching her, a frown +darkened her white forehead, and her lips parted sharply. + +"I won't have her put before me. I tell you I _won't_," she +called out angrily. Then again, a nicer look came over her face and +she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of. + +"I didn't mean"--"sorry"--"crying," she said, and her mother turned +away a little comforted. + +"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You _do_ know what is +right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy +temper?" + + * * * * * + +The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful +trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night +before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up +the window-blind to look out. And as soon as she was dressed she was +only too delighted to join Rosy and Colin for a run before breakfast. +Children are children all the world over--luckily for themselves and +luckily for other people too--and even children who are sometimes +ill-tempered and unkind are sometimes, too, bright and happy and +lovable. Rosy was after all only a child, and by no means +_always_ a disagreeable spoilt child. And this morning seeing Bee +so merry and happy, she forgot her foolish and unkind feelings about +her, and for the time they were all as contented and joyous as +children should be. + +"Where is Fixie?" asked Beata. "May he not come out a little before +breakfast too?" + +"Martha won't let him," said Rosy. "Nasty cross old thing. She says it +will make him ill, and I am sure it's much more likely to make him ill +keeping him poking in there when he wanted so much to come out with +us." + +"I don't see how you can call Martha cross," said Colin. "And +certainly she's never _cross_ to Fixie." + +"How do _you_ know?" said Rosy, sharply. "You don't see her half +as much as I do. And she can always pretend if she likes." + +Beata looked rather anxiously at Colin. He was on the point of +answering Rosy crossly in his turn, and again Bee felt that sort of +nervous fear of quarrels or disagreeables which it was impossible to +be long in Rosy's company without feeling. But Colin suddenly seemed +to change his mind. + +"Shall we run another race?" he said, without taking any notice of +Rosy's last speech. + +"Yes," said Bee, eagerly, "from here to the library window. But you +must give me a little start--I can't run half so fast as you and +Rosy." + +She said it quite simply, but it pleased Rosy all the same, and she +began considering how much of a start it was fair for Bee to have. + +When that important point was settled, off they set. Bee was the first +to arrive. + +"You must have given me too much of a start," she said, laughing. +"Look here, Colin and Rosy, there's the big cat on the window-seat. +Doesn't he look solemn?" + +"He looks very cross and nasty--he always does," said Rosy. Then, +safely sheltered behind the window, she began tapping on the pane. + +"Manchon, Manchon," she said, "you can't scratch me through the glass, +so I'll just tell you what I think of you for once. You're a cross, +mean, _pretending_ creature. You make everybody say you're so +pretty and so sweet when _really_ you're--" she stopped in a +fright--"Bee, Bee," she cried, "just look at his face. I believe he's +heard all I said." + +"Well, what if he did?" said Beata. "Cats don't understand what one +means." + +"_Manchon_ does," said Rosy. "Come away, Bee, do. Quick, quick. +We'd better go in to breakfast." + +The two little girls ran off, but Colin stayed behind at the library +window. + +"I've been talking to Manchon," he said when he came up to them. "He +told me to give you his compliments, Rosy, and to say he is very much +obliged to you for the pretty things you said to him, and the next +time he has the pleasure of seeing you he hopes to have the honour of +scratching you to show his gratitude." + +Rosy's face got red. + +"Colin, how _dare_ you laugh at me?" she called out in a fury. +She was frightened as well as angry, for she really had a strange fear +of the big cat. + +"I'm not laughing," Colin began again, looking quite serious. "I had +to give you Manchon's message." + + [Illustration: 'WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?' HE SAID] + +Rosy looked at Bee. If there had been the least shadow of a smile on +Bee's face it would have made her still more angry. But Beata looked +grave, because she felt so. + +"Oh, I wish they wouldn't quarrel," she was thinking to herself. "It +does so spoil everything. I can't _think_ how Colin can tease +Rosy so." + +And sadly, feeling already tired, and not knowing what was best to do, +Beata followed the others to the nursery. _They_ did not seem to +care--Colin was already whistling, and though Rosy's face was still +black, no one paid any attention to it. + +But little Fixie ran to Bee and held up his fresh sweet face for a +kiss. + +"What is ze matter wif you, Bee?" he said. "You's c'ying. Colin, Losy, +Bee's c'ying," he exclaimed. + +"You're _not_, are you, Bee?" said Colin. + +"Are you, really?" said Rosy, coming close to her and looking into her +face. + +The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the +children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face. + +"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went +on, "what are you crying for?" + +Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck. + +"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, +oh, I do so wish--" and then she stopped. + +"What?" said Rosy. + +"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish +Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee. + +"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, _that_ wasn't anything--you +should hear us sometimes." + +"_Please_ don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear +Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and +not have anything like that." + +Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand. + +"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because +you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I +daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a +while here." + +"Oh, I _hope_ not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, +Rosy?" + +"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you +do a _little_. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be +better than other people, or _pretending_." + +"But I _don't_ want to do that," said Beata. "I want to _be_ +good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than +other people, and I'm _sure_ I don't want to pretend. I don't +ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? I don't know what +I can say to make you believe me. I can't see that you should think it +such a very funny thing for me to want to be good. Don't _you_ +want to be good?" + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I suppose I do. I do just now, just at this minute. +And just at this minute I believe what you say. But I daresay I won't +always. The first time Colin teases me I know I shall leave off +wanting to be good. I shall want nothing at all except just to give +him a good hard slap--really to hurt him, you know. I do want to +_hurt_ him when I am very angry--just for a little. And if you +were to say anything to me _then_ about being good, I'd very +likely not believe you a bit." + +Just then Martha's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast. + +"Be quiet, Martha," Rosy called back. "We'll come when we're ready. Do +leave us alone. Just when we're talking so nicely," she added, turning +to Bee. "What a bother she is" + +"_I_ think she's very kind," said Bee, "but I don't like to say +anything like that to you, for fear you should think I'm pretending or +'setting up,' or something like that." + +Rosy laughed. + +"I don't think that just now," she said. "Well, let's go into the +nursery, then," and, as they came in, she said to Martha with +wonderful amiability, "We aren't very hungry this morning, I don't +think, for we had each such a big hunch of bread and some milk before +we ran out." + +"That was quite right, Miss Rosy," said Martha, and by the sound of +her voice it was easy to see she was pleased. "It is never a good +thing to go out in the morning without eating something, even if it's +only a little bit." + +Breakfast passed most comfortably, and by good luck Fixie hadn't +forgotten his promise to sit "aside Losy." "It was her turn," he said, +and he seemed to think the honour a very great one. + +"Do you remember on the steamer, Fixie?" said Bee, "how we liked to +sit together, and how hot it was sometimes, and how we used to wish we +were in nice cool England?" + +"Oh ses," said Fixie, "oh it _were_ hot! And the poor young lady, +Bee, that was so ill?" + +"Oh, do you remember her, Fixie? What a good memory you have!" + +Fixie got rather red. + +"I'm not sure that I 'membered her all of myself," he said, "but mamma +telled me about her one day. Her's quite welldened now." + +Bee smiled a little at Fixie's funny way of speaking, but she thought +to herself it was very nice for him to be such an honest little boy. + +"How do you know she's got well?" said Rosy, rather sharply. + +"Mamma telled me," said Fixie. + +"Yes," said Colin, "it's quite true. And the young lady's father's +going to come to see us some day. I don't remember his name, do you, +Bee?" + +"Not quite," said Bee, "yes, I think it was something like +_furniture_." + +"Furniture," repeated Colin, "it couldn't be that. Was it 'Ferguson'?" + +"No," said Bee, "it wasn't that." + +"Well, never mind," said Colin. "It was something like it. We'll ask +mamma. He is going to come to see us soon. I'm sure of that." + +Later in the day Colin remembered about it, and asked his mother about +it. + +"What was the name of the gentleman that you said was coming to see us +soon, mamma?" he said--"the gentleman whose daughter was so ill in the +ship coming home from India." + +"Mr. Furnivale," replied his mother. "You must remember him and his +daughter, Bee. She is much better now. They have been all these months +in Italy, and they are going to stay there through next winter, but +Mr. Furnivale is in England on business and is coming to see us very +soon. He is a very kind man, and always asks for Fixie and Bee when he +writes." + +"That is very kind of him," said Bee, gratefully. + +But a dark look came over Rosy's face. + +"It's just as if _she_ was mamma's little girl, and not me," she +said to herself. "I hate people mamma knew when Bee was with her and I +wasn't." + +"Mr. Furnivale doesn't know you are with us," Mrs. Vincent went on; +"he will be quite pleased to see you. He says Cecilia has never +forgotten you; Cecilia is his daughter, you know." + +"Yes, I remember _her_ name," said Bee. "I wish she could come to +see us too. She was so pretty, wasn't she, Aunt--Lillias?" she added, +stopping a little and smiling. Lillias was Mrs. Vincent's name, and it +had been fixed that Beata should call her "aunt," for to say "Mrs. +Vincent" sounded rather stiff. "You would think her pretty, Rosy," she +went on again, out of a wish to make Rosy join in what they were +talking of. + +"No," said Rosy, with a sort of burst, "I shouldn't. I don't know +anything about what you're talking of, and I don't want to hear about +it," and she turned away with a very cross and angry face. + +Bee was going to run after her, but Mrs. Vincent stopped her. + +"No," she said. "When she is so very foolish, it is best to leave her +alone." + +But though she said it as if she did not think Rosy's tempers of very +much consequence, Beata saw the sad disappointed look on her face. + +"Oh," thought the little girl, "how I _do_ wish I could do +anything to keep Rosy from vexing her mother." + +It was near bed-time when they had been talking about Mr. Furnivale +and his daughter, and soon after the children all said good-night. +Rather to Bee's surprise, Rosy, who had hidden herself in the window +with a book, came out when she was called and said good-night quite +pleasantly. + +"I wonder she doesn't feel ashamed," thought Bee, "I'm sure I never +spoke like that to my mamma, but if ever I had, I couldn't have said +good-night without saying I was sorry." + +And it was with a slight feeling of self-approval that Beata went up +to bed. When she was undressed she went into the nursery for a moment +to ask Martha to brush her hair. Fixie was not yet asleep, and the +nurse looked troubled. + +"Is Fixie ill?" said Bee. + +"No, I hope not," said Martha, "but he's troubled. Miss Rosy's been in +to say good-night to him, and she's set him off his sleep, I'm sure." + +"I'm so unhappy, Bee," whispered Fixie, when Beata stooped over him to +say good-night. "Losy's been 'peaking to me, and she says nobody loves +her, not _nobody_. She's so unhappy, Bee." + +A little feeling of pain went through Bee. Perhaps Rosy _was_ +really unhappy and sorry for what she had said, though she had not +told any one so. And the thought of it kept Bee from going to sleep as +quickly as usual. "Rosy is so puzzling," she thought. "It is so +difficult to understand her." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER. + + + "Whenever you find your heart despair + Of doing some goodly thing, + Con over this strain, try bravely again, + And remember the spider and king." + --TRY AGAIN. + +She did go to sleep at last, and she slept for a while very soundly. +But suddenly she awoke, awoke quite completely, and with the feeling +that something had awakened her, though what she did not know. She sat +up in bed and looked about her, if you can call staring out into the +dark where you can see nothing "looking about you." It seemed to be a +very dark night; there was no chink of moonlight coming in at the +window, and everything was perfectly still. Beata could not help +wondering what had awakened her, and she was settling herself to sleep +again when a little sound caught her ears. It was a kind of low, +choking cry, as if some one was crying bitterly and trying to stuff +their handkerchief into their mouth, or in some way prevent the sound +being heard. Beata felt at first a very little frightened, and then, +as she became quite sure that it was somebody crying, very sorry and +uneasy. What could be the matter? Was it Fixie? No, the sounds did not +come from the nursery side. Beata sat up in bed to hear more clearly, +and then amidst the crying she distinguished her own name. + +"Bee," said the sobbing voice, "Bee, I wish you'd come to speak to me. +Are you asleep, Bee?" + +In a moment Beata was out of bed, for there was no doubt now whose +voice it was. It was Rosy's. Bee was not a timid child, but the room +was very dark, and it took a little courage to feel her way among the +chairs and tables till at last she found the door, which she opened +and softly went into Rosy's room. For a moment she did not speak, for +a new idea struck her,--could Rosy be crying and talking in her sleep? +It was so very unlike her to cry or ask any one to go to her. There +was no sound as Beata opened the door; she could almost have believed +it had all been her fancy, and for a moment she felt inclined to go +back to her own bed and say nothing. But a very slight sound, a sort +of little sobbing breath that came from Rosy's bed, made her change +her mind. + +"Rosy," she said, softly, "are you awake? Were you speaking to me?" + +She heard a rustle. It was Rosy sitting up in bed. + +"Yes," she said, "I am awake. I've been awake all night. It's dedful +to be awake all night, Bee. I've been calling and calling you. I'm so +unhappy." + +"Unhappy?" said Bee, in a kind voice, going nearer the bed. "What are +you so unhappy about, Rosy?" + +"I'll tell you," said Rosy, "but won't you get into my bed a little, +Bee? There is room, if we scrudge ourselves up. One night Fixie slept +with me, and you're not so very much bigger." + +"I'll get in for a little," said Beata, "just while you tell me what's +the matter, and why you are so unhappy." + +She was quite surprised at Rosy's way of speaking. She seemed so much +gentler and softer, that Bee could not understand it. + +"I'll tell you why I'm so unhappy," said Rosy. "I can't be good, Bee. +I never have cared to be good. It's such a lot of trouble, and lots of +peoples that think they're very good, and that other peoples make a +fuss about, are very pretending. I've noticed that often. But when we +had been talking yesterday morning all of a sudden I thought it would +be nice to be good--not pretending, but _real_ good--never cross, +and all that. And so I fixed I would be quite good, and I thought how +pleased you'd be when I never quarrelled with Colin, or was cross to +Martha, or anything like that. And it was all right for a while; but +then when mamma began talking about Mr. Furniture, and how nice he +was, and his daughter, and you knew all about them and I didn't, it +_all went away_. I told you it would--all the wanting to be +good--and I was as angry as angry. And then I said that, you remember, +and then everybody thought I was just the same, and it was all no +use." + +"Poor Rosy," said Bee. "No, I don't think it was no use." + +"Oh yes," persisted Rosy, "it was all no use. But nobody knew, and I +didn't mean anybody to know. Mamma and Colin and nobody could see I +was sorry when I said good-night--_could_ they?" she said, with a +tone of satisfaction. "No, I didn't mean anybody to know, only after I +was in bed it came back to me, and I was so vexed and so unhappy. I +thought everybody would have been _so_ surprised at finding I +could be just as good as anybody if I liked. But I don't like; so just +remember, Bee, to-morrow morning I'm not going to try a bit, and it's +no use saying any more about it. It's just the way I'm made." + +"But you do care, Rosy," said Bee, "I know you care. If you didn't you +wouldn't have been thinking about it, and been sorry after you were in +bed." + +"Yes, I _did_ care," said Rosy, with again a little sob. "I had +been thinking it would be very nice, But I'm not going to care--that's +just the thing, Bee--that's what I wanted to tell you--I'm not going +to go on caring." + +"Don't you always say your prayers, Rosy?" asked Bee, rather solemnly. + +"Yes, _of course_ I do. But I don't think they're much good. I've +been just as naughty some days when I'd said them _beautifully_, +as some days when I'd been in a hurry." + +Beata felt puzzled. + +"I can't explain about it properly," she said. "But that isn't the +way, I don't think. Mother told me if I thought just saying my prayers +would make me good, it was like thinking they were a kind of magic, +and that isn't what we should think them." + +"What good are they then?" said Rosy. + +"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee. +"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives +us a sort of feeling that _He_, you know, Rosy, that God is +smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's _always_ +ready to help us." + +"_Is_ He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser +about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do +make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good." + +"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not +good and you don't care. But I think you _do_ care, only," with a +sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot." + +"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly. + +"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that +you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But +please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. _Do_ go on. It will get +easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the +piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier +for the next time." + +"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone. +"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning +what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again +to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to +be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the +naughty ones you could keep out of my way." + +"It wouldn't do at all," said Bee, decidedly. "It would be like going +up two steps and then tumbling back two steps. No, it would be worse, +it would be like going up two and tumbling back three, for every +naughty day would make it still harder to begin again on the good +day." + +"Well, I won't do that way, then," said Rosy, with wonderful +gentleness. "I'll either _go on_ trying to climb up the steps--how +funnily you say things, Bee!--or I'll not try at all. I'll tell you +to-morrow morning. But remember you're not to tell anybody. +If I fix to be good I want everybody to be surprised." + +"But you won't get good all of a sudden, Rosy," said Bee, feeling +afraid that Rosy would again lose heart at the first break-down. + +"Well, I daresay I won't," returned Rosy. "But don't you see if nobody +but you knows it won't so much matter. But if I was to tell everybody +then it would all seem pretending, and there's nothing so horrid as +pretending." + +There was some sense in Rosy's ideas, and Bee did not go against them. +She went back to her own bed with a curious feeling of respect for +Rosy and a warm feeling of affection also. + +"And it was very horrid of me to be thinking of her that way +to-night," said honest Bee to herself. "I'll never think of her that +way again. Poor Rosy, she has had no mother all these years that I've +had my mother doing nothing but trying to make me good. But I am so +glad Rosy is getting to like me." + +For Rosy had kissed her warmly as they bade each other good-night for +the second time. + +"It was very nice of Bee to get out of bed in the dark to come to me," +she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is +pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's +friendship for Beata--_trust_. + +The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for +they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling +and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the +beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice +calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of +their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able +to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face +did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came +into the nursery. + +"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't +settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it." + +Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once +or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as +necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented +herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and +sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went +further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the +back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the +little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and +really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a +little scream, it is true--who could have helped it?--and then rushed +out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that +were running down her cheeks. + +"Colin," said Bee, and, for a moment or two, it almost seemed to the +boy as if Rosy's temper had passed into the quiet little girl, "I am +ashamed of you. You naughty, _cruel_ boy, just when poor Rosy +was----" + +She stopped suddenly--"just when poor Rosy was beginning to try to be +good," she was going to have said, forgetting her promise to tell no +one of Rosy's plans,--"just when we were all quiet and comfortable," +she said instead. + +Colin looked ashamed. + +"I won't do it any more," he said, "I won't really. Besides there's no +fun in only making her cry. It was only fun when it put her into a +rage." + +"Nice _fun_," said Bee, with scorn. + +"Well, you know what I mean. I daresay it wasn't right, but I never +meant really to hurt her. And all the fellows at school tease like +that--one can't help getting into the way of it." + +"I never heard such a foolish way of talking," answered Bee, who was +for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for +doing wrong things--that other people do them.'" + +"It's bad example--the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely +that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have +answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, +which put her on her guard. + +"You are trying to tease _me_ now, Colin," she said. "Well, I +don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone--any way for a +few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, +won't you?" + +She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her +honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease +me"--she went on--"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody." + +Colin could not help laughing. + +"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far +too good-natured. Well, I will promise you--I'll promise you more than +you ask--listen, what a grand promise--I'll promise you not to tease +Rosy for three whole months--now, what do you say to that, ma'am?" + +Bee's eyes glistened. + +"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. +Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to +tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me +about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it +wouldn't do half as well." + +"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went +on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I +promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to +school for three months." + +"_Are_ you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. +I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I +first came, you know." + +"Yes; and your lessons--yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a +little too--they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having +holidays just now." + +"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata. + +"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but +it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short." + +"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having +still another stranger to make friends with. + +"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy--she's afraid of her +tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy +is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee." + +"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In +three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said +again, smiling. + +"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee +thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, +for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good +plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, +and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad. + +Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the +other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked +at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about +_me_?" her look seemed to say. + +"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard +about her before." + +"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully. + +"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata. + +"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for +her--much. She's rather pretending." + +"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said +Bee. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that." + +"But if they _are_ pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy. + +Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue. + +"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's +way, for she thinks it of everybody." + +"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not _everybody_." + +"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some +people good who aren't good than think some people who _are_ good +_not_ good--wouldn't you, Bee?" + +Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin +meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always +very quick at doing so. + +"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there _are_ lots of +very kind and good people in the world--really kind and good, not +pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling +kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite +knowing how sometimes." + +Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in +saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I +think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want +_anybody_ to know--you remember, don't you?" + +"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody +will find out for themselves, without _my_ telling." + +And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they +fell asleep that night. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + "Multiplication's my vexation, + Division is as bad." + +Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. +The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he +had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the +little girls' lessons began. + +"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning. + +"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said. + +It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not +manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand +why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody +that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without +really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of +being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any +way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to +her. + +"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun +again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic." + +"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you +are grown-up if you cannot count--everybody needs to know how to +count, or else they can't manage their money." + +"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody +must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink." + +Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, +pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did +Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said +nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident. + +Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. +But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy +threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again. + +"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums--you'll +see." + +"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off +giving us sums for always." + +"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. _I_ won't do them." + +"I will," said Bee. + +"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?" + +"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if +she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning +arithmetic any more." + +"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very +fierce. + +"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me +to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell +your mother." + +"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. +"That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, +when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those +_horrible_ sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and +what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie +just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her +tempers off before her little brother. + +Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that +Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day +passed quietly. But the next morning it was the same thing. When they +came to the time at which they usually had their arithmetic, Rosy +looked up at Miss Pink with a determined air. + +"No arithmetic, Miss Pink, you know," she said. + +Miss Pink gave a sort of little laugh. + +"My dear Rosy," she said, "you are so very comical! Come now, get your +slate--see there is dear Beata all ready with hers. You shall not have +very hard sums to-day, I promise you." + +"Miss Pink," said Rosy, "I won't do _any_ sums. I told you so +yesterday, and you know I mean what I say. If Bee chooses to tell +tales, she may, but _I_ won't do any sums." + +Miss Pink looked from one to the other. + +"There is no use my doing sums without Rosy," said Bee. "We are at the +same place and it would put everything wrong." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink. "I cannot give you separate lessons. It would +put everything wrong. But I'm sure you're only joking, Rosy dear. We +won't say anything about the sums to-day, and then to-morrow we'll go +on regularly again, and dear Beata will see it will all be right." + +"No," said Rosy, "it won't be all right if you try to make me do any +sums to-morrow or any day." + +Bee said nothing. She did not know what to say. She could hardly +believe Rosy was the same little girl as the Rosy whom she had heard +crying in the night, who had made her so happy by talking about trying +to be good. And how many days the silly dispute might have gone on, +there is no telling, had it not happened that the very next morning, +just as they came to the time for the arithmetic lesson, the door +opened and Mrs. Vincent came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Pinkerton," she said. "I've come to see how you +are all getting on,"--for Miss Pinkerton did not live in the house, +she only came every morning at nine o'clock--"you don't find your new +pupil _very_ troublesome, I hope?" she went on, with a smile at +Beata. + +"Oh dear, no! oh, certainly not," said Miss Pinkerton nervously; "oh +dear, no--Miss Beata is very good indeed. Everything's very nice--oh +we're very happy, thank you--dear Rosy and dear Beata and I." + +"I am very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Vincent, but she spoke rather +gravely, for on coming into the room it had not looked to her as if +everything _was_ "very nice." Beata looked grave and troubled, +Miss Pinkerton flurried, and there was a black cloud on Rosy's face +that her mother knew only too well. "What lessons are you at now?" she +went on. + +"Oh, ah!" began Miss Pinkerton, fussing among some of the books that +lay on the table. "We've just finished a chapter of our English +history, and--and--I was thinking of giving the dear children a +dictation." + +"It's not the time for dictation," said Rosy. And then to Bee's +surprise she burst out, "Miss Pink, I wonder how you can tell such +stories! Everything is not quite nice, mamma, for I've just been +telling Miss Pink I won't do any sums, and it's just the time for +sums. I wouldn't do them yesterday, and I won't do them to-day, or any +day, because I hate them." + +"You 'won't' and you 'wouldn't,' Rosy," said her mother, so sternly +and coldly that Bee trembled for her, though Rosy gave no signs of +trembling for herself. "Is that a way in which I can allow you to +speak? You must apologise to Miss Pinkerton, and tell her you will be +ready to do _any_ lessons she gives you, or you must go upstairs +to your own room." + +"I'll go upstairs to my own room then," said Rosy at once. "I'd +'pologise to you, mamma, if you like, but I won't to Miss Pink, +because she doesn't say what's true." + +"Rosy, be silent," said her mother again. And then, turning to Miss +Pinkerton, she added in a very serious tone, "Miss Pinkerton, I do not +wish to appear to find fault with you, but I must say that you should +have told me of all this before. It is most mistaken kindness to Rosy +to hide her disobedience and rudeness, and it makes things much more +difficult for me. I am _particularly_ sorry to have to punish +Rosy to-day, for I have just heard that a friend is coming to see us +who would have liked to find all the children good and happy." + +Rosy's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Beata was on the point of +breaking in with a request that Rosy might be forgiven, but something +in Mrs. Vincent's look stopped her. Miss Pinkerton grew very red and +looked very unhappy--almost as if she was going to cry. + +"I'm--I'm very sorry--very distressed. But I thought dear Rosy was +only joking, and that it would be all right in a day or two. I'm sure, +dear Rosy, you'll tell your mamma that you did not mean what you said, +and that you'll do your best to do your sums nicely--now won't you, +dear?" + +"No," said Rosy, in a hard, cold tone, "I won't. And you might know by +this time, Miss Pink, that I always mean what I say. I'm not like +you." + +After this there was nothing for it but to send Rosy up to her own +room. Mrs. Vincent told Miss Pinkerton to finish the morning lessons +with Beata, and then left the schoolroom. + +Bee was very unhappy, and Miss Pink by this time was in tears. + +"She's so naughty--so completely spoilt;" she said. "I really don't +think I can go on teaching her. She's not like you, dear Beata. How +happily and peacefully we could go on doing our lessons--you and +I--without that self-willed Rosy." + +Bee looked very grave. + +"Miss Pink," she said, "I don't like you to speak like that at all. +You don't say to Rosy to her face that you think her so naughty, and +so I don't think you should say it to me. I think it would be better +if you said to Rosy herself what you think." + +"I couldn't," said Miss Pink. "There would be no staying with her if I +didn't give in to her. And I don't want to lose this engagement, for +it's so near my home, and my mother is so often ill. And Mr. and Mrs. +Vincent have been very kind--very kind indeed." + +"I think Rosy would like you better if you told her right out what you +think," said Bee, who couldn't help being sorry for Miss Pinkerton +when she spoke of her mother being ill. And Miss Pink was really +kind-hearted, only she did not distinguish between weak indulgence and +real sensible kindness. + +When lessons were over Mrs. Vincent called Bee to come and speak to +her. + +"It is Mr. Furnivale who is coming to see us to-day," she said. "It is +for that I am so particularly sorry for Rosy to be again in disgrace. +And she has been so much gentler and more obedient lately, I am really +_very_ disappointed, and I cannot help saying so to you, Bee, +though I don't want you to be troubled about Rosy." + +"I do think Rosy wants--" began Bee, and then she stopped, remembering +her promise. "Don't you think she will be sorry now?" she said. "Might +I go and ask her?" + +"No, dear, I think you had better not," said Mrs. Vincent. "I will see +her myself in a little while. Yes, I believe she is sorry, but she +won't let herself say so." + +Beata felt sad and dull without Rosy; for the last few days had really +passed happily. And Rosy shut up in her own room was thinking with a +sort of bitter vexation rather than sorrow of how quickly her +resolutions had all come to nothing. + +"It's not my fault," she kept saying to herself, "it's all Miss +Pink's. She knew I hated sums--that horrid kind of long rows worst of +all--and she just gave me them on purpose; and then when I said I +wouldn't do them, she went on coaxing and talking nonsense--that way +that just _makes_ me naughtier. I'd rather do sums all day than +have her talk like that--and then to go and tell stories to mamma--I +hate her, nasty, pretending thing. It's all her fault; and then she'll +be going on praising Bee, and making everybody think how good Bee is +and how naughty I am. I wish Bee hadn't come. I didn't mind it so much +before. I wonder if _she_ told mamma as she said she would, and +if that was why mamma came in to the schoolroom this morning. I +_wonder_ if Bee could be so mean;" and in this new idea Rosy +almost forgot her other troubles. "If Bee did do it I shall never +forgive her--never," she went on to herself; "I wouldn't have minded +her doing it right out, as she said she would, but to go and tell +mamma that sneaky way, and get her to come into the room just at that +minute, no, I'll never--" + +A knock at the door interrupted her, and then before she had time to +answer, she heard her mother's voice outside. "I'll take it in myself, +thank you, Martha," she was saying, and in a moment Mrs. Vincent came +in, carrying the glass of milk and dry biscuit which the children +always had at twelve, as they did not have dinner till two o'clock +with their father's and mother's luncheon. + +"Here is your milk, Rosy," said her mother, gravely, as she put it +down on the table. "Have you anything to say to me?" + +Rosy looked at her mother. + +"Mamma," she said, quickly, "will you tell me one thing? Was it Bee +that made you come into the schoolroom just at sums time? Was it +because of her telling you what I had said that you came?" + +Mrs. Vincent in her turn looked at Rosy. Many mothers would have +refused to answer--would have said it was not Rosy's place to begin +asking questions instead of begging to be forgiven for their naughty +conduct; but Rosy's mother was different from many. She knew that Rosy +was a strange character to deal with; she hoped and believed that in +her real true heart her little girl _did_ feel how wrong she was; +and she wished, oh, how earnestly, to _help_ the little plant of +goodness to grow, not to crush it down by too much sternness. And in +Rosy's face just now she read a mixture of feelings. + +"No, Rosy," she answered very gently, but so that Rosy never for one +instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not +said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then +quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy--you +seem to trust no one--not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee." + +Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad +to find Bee what she had always been--not to be obliged to keep to her +terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her +_worst_ self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that +her suspicions had no ground. + +"Bee _said_ she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she +said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you." + +"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother. +"You _know_ she would never have tried to get you into disgrace +in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must +tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I +will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of +ours--of your father's and mine----" + +"Mr. Furniture!" exclaimed Rosy, forgetting her tempers in the +excitement of the news. + +"Yes, Mr. Furnivale," said her mother, and she could not keep back a +little smile; "he is coming this afternoon. It would be punishing not +only you, but your father and Bee and myself--all of us indeed--if we +had to tell our old friend the moment he arrived that our Rosy was in +disgrace. So you may go now and ask Martha to dress you neatly. Mr. +Furnivale _may_ be here by luncheon-time, and no more will be +said about this unhappy morning. But Rosy, listen--I trust to your +honour to try to behave so as to please me. I will say no more about +your arithmetic lessons; will you act so as to show me I have not been +foolish in forgiving you?" + +The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she +was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her +mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were +not very far off, + +"Mamma, I _do_ thank you. I will try. I will do my sums as much +as you like to-morrow, only--" + +"Only what, Rosy?" + +"Can you tell Miss Pink that it is to please _you_ I want to do +them, not to please _her_, mamma--she isn't like you. I don't +believe what she says." + +"I will tell Miss Pink that you want to please me certainly, but you +must see, Rosy, that obeying her, doing the lessons she gives you by +my wish, _is_ pleasing me," said her mother, though at the same +time in her own mind she determined to have a little talk with Miss +Pink privately. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I know that." + +She spoke gently, and her mother felt happier about her little girl +than for long. + +Mr. Furnivale did arrive in time for luncheon. He had just come when +the little girls and Fixie went down to the drawing-room at the sound +of the first gong. He came forward to meet the children with kindly +interest in his face. + +"Well, Fixie, my boy, and how are you?" he said, lifting the fragile +little figure in his arms. "Why, I think you are a little bit fatter +and a little bit rosier than this time last year. And this is your +sister that I _don't_ know," he went on, turning to Rosy, +"and--why, bless my soul! here's another old friend--my busy Bee. I +had no idea Mrs. Warwick had left her with you," he exclaimed to Mrs. +Vincent. + +Mrs. Warwick was Beata's mother. I don't think I have before told you +Bee's last name. + +"I was just going to tell you about it, when the children came in," +said Rosy's mother. "I knew Cecilia would be so glad to know Bee was +with us, and not at school, when her poor grandmother grew too ill to +have her." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Furnivale, "Cecy will be glad to hear it. She +had no idea of it. And so when you all come to pay us that famous +visit we have been talking about, Bee must come too--eh, Bee?" + +Bee's eyes sparkled. She liked kind, old Mr. Furnivale, and she had +been very fond of his pretty daughter. + +"Is Cecy much better?" she asked, in her gentle little voice. + +"_Much_ better. We're hoping to come back to settle in England +before long, and have a nice house like yours, and then you are all to +come to see us," said Mr. Furnivale. + +They went on talking for a few minutes about these pleasant plans, and +in the interest of hearing about Cecilia Furnivale, and hearing all +her messages, Rosy, who had never seen her, and who was quite a +stranger to her father too, was naturally left a little in the +background. It was quite enough to put her out again. + +"I might just as well have been left upstairs in my own room," she +said to herself. "Nobody notices me--nobody cares whether I am here or +not. _I_ won't go to stay with that ugly old man and his stupid +daughter, just to be always put behind Bee." + +And when Beata, with a slight feeling that Rosy might be feeling +herself neglected, and full of pleasure, too, at Mrs. Vincent's having +forgiven her, slipped behind the others and took Rosy's hand in hers, +saying brightly, "_Won't_ it be nice to go and stay with them, +Rosy?" Rosy pulled away her hand roughly, and, looking very cross, +went back to her old cry. + +"I wish you'd leave me alone, Bee. I hate that sort of pretending. You +know quite well nobody would care whether _I_ went or not." + +And poor Bee drew back quite distressed, and puzzled again by Rosy's +changeableness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT. + + + "And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than these." + --SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. + +"Your little girl is very pretty, unusually pretty," Mr. Furnivale was +saying to Rosy's mother, as he sat beside her on the sofa during the +few minutes they were waiting for luncheon, "and she looks so strong +and well." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincent, "she is very strong. I am glad you think her +pretty," she went on. "It is always difficult to judge of one's own +children, I think, or indeed of any face you see constantly. I thought +Rosy very pretty, I must confess, when I first saw her again after our +three years' separation, but now I don't think I could judge." + +Mrs. Vincent gave a little sigh as she spoke, which made Mr. Furnivale +wonder what she was troubled about. The truth was that she was +thinking to herself how little she would care whether Rosy was pretty +or not, if only she could feel more happy about her really trying to +be a good little girl. + +"Your little girl was with Miss Vincent while you were away, was she +not?" said Mr. Furnivale. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother, "her aunt is very fond of her. She gave +herself immense trouble for Rosy's sake." + +"By-the-bye, she is coming to see you soon, is she not?" said Mr. +Furnivale. "She is, as of course you know, an old friend of ours, and +she writes often to ask how Cecy is. And in her last letter she said +she hoped to come to see you soon." + +"I have not heard anything decided about it," replied Mrs. Vincent. "I +had begun to think she would not come this year--she was speaking of +going to some seaside place." + +"Ah, but I rather think she has changed her mind, then," said Mr. +Furnivale, and then he went on to talk of something else to him of +more importance. But poor Mrs. Vincent was really troubled. + +"I should not mind Edith herself coming," she said to herself. "She is +_really_ good and kind, and I think I could make her understand +how cruel it is to spoil Rosy. But it is the maid--that Nelson--I +cannot like or trust her, and I believe she did Rosy more harm than +all her aunt's over-indulgence. And Edith is so fond of her; I cannot +say anything against her," for Miss Vincent was an invalid, and very +dependent on this maid. + +Little Beata noticed that during luncheon Rosy's mother looked +troubled, and it made her feel sorry. Rosy perhaps would have noticed +it too, had she not been so very much taken up with her own fancied +troubles. She was running full-speed into one of her cross jealous +moods, and everything that was said or done, she took the wrong way. +Her father helped Bee before her--that, she could not but allow was +right, as Bee was a guest--but now it seemed to her that he chose the +nicest bits for Bee, with a care he never showed in helping her. Rosy +was not the least greedy--she would have been ready and pleased to +give away anything, _so long_ as she got the credit of it, and +was praised and thanked, but to be treated second-best in the way in +which she chose to imagine she was being treated--_that_, she +could not and would not stand. She sat through luncheon with a black +look on her pretty face; so that Mr. Furnivale, whom she was beside, +found her much less pleasant to talk to than Bee opposite, though Bee +herself was less bright and merry than usual. + +Mrs. Vincent felt glad that no more was said about Aunt Edith's +coming. She felt that she did not wish Rosy to hear of it, and yet she +did not like to ask Mr. Furnivale not to mention it, as it seemed +ungrateful to think or speak of a visit from Miss Vincent except with +pleasure. After luncheon, when they were again in the drawing-room, +Mr. Furnivale came up to her with a small parcel in his hand. + +"I am so sorry," he began, with a little hesitation, "I am so sorry +that I did not know Beata Warwick was with you. Cecy had no idea of +it, and she begged me to give _your_ little girl this present we +bought for her in Venice, and now I don't half like giving it to the +one little woman when I have nothing for the other." + +He opened the parcel as he spoke; it contained a quaint-looking little +box, which in its turn, when opened, showed a necklace of glass beads +of every imaginable colour. They were not very large--each bead +perhaps about the size of a pea--of a large pea, that is to say. And +some of them were long, not thicker, but twice as long as the others. +I can scarcely tell you how pretty they were. Every one was different, +and they were beautifully arranged so that the colours came together +in the prettiest possible way. One was pale blue with little tiny +flowers, pink or rose-coloured raised upon it; one was white with a +sort of rainbow glistening of every colour through it; two or three +were black, but with a different tracery, gold or red or bright green, +on each; and some were a kind of mixture of colours and patterns which +seemed to change as you looked at them, so that you could _fancy_ +you saw flowers, or figures, or tiny landscapes even, which again +disappeared--and no two the same. + +"Oh how lovely," exclaimed Rosy's mother, "how very, very pretty." + +"Yes," said Mr. Furnivale, "they _are_ pretty. And they are now +rare. These are really old, and the imitation ones, which they make in +plenty, are not half so curious. Cecy thought they would take a +child's fancy." + +"More than a _child's_," said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. "I think +they are lovely--and what a pretty ornament they will be--fancy them +on a white dress!" + +"I am only sorry I have not two of them," said Mr. Furnivale, "or at +least _something_ else for the other little girl. You would not +wish me, I suppose, to give the necklace to Beata instead of to Rosy?" +he added. + +Now Mrs. Vincent's own feeling was almost that she _would_ better +like it to be given to Beata. She was very unselfish, and her natural +thought was that in anything of the kind, Bee, the little stranger, +the child in her care, whose mother was so far away, should come +first. But there was more to think of than this feeling of hers-- + +"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to +let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that +terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo +the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply +and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw +the children still more together." + +So she looked up at Mr. Furnivale with her pretty honest eyes--Rosy's +eyes were honest too--and like her mother's when she was sweet and +good--and said frankly, + +"You won't think me selfish I am sure--I think you will believe that I +do it from good motives--when I ask you not to change, but still to +give it to Rosy. I will take care that little Bee does not suffer for +it in the end." + +"And I too," said Mr. Furnivale, "If I _can_ find another +necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send +it--indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for +one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did +buy it for your own little girl." + +"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr. +Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the +lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy. + +"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked +towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and +Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were +playing, I should have said Beata and Felix--not Rosy). "I daresay she +will be going to scold me, now luncheon's over. I wish that ugly old +Mr. Furniture would go away," for all the cross, angry, jealous +thoughts had come back to poor Rosy since she had taken it into her +head again about Bee being put before her, and all her good wishes and +plans, which had grown stronger through her mother's gentleness, had +again flown away, like a flock of frightened white doves, looking back +at her with sad eyes as they flew. + +Rosy's good angel, however, was very patient with her that day. Again +she was to be tried with _kindness_ instead of harshness; surely +this time it would succeed. + +"Rosy dear," said her mother, quite brightly, for she had not noticed +Rosy's cross looks at dinner, and she felt a natural pleasure in the +thought of her child's pleasure, "Mr. Furnivale--or perhaps I should +say _Miss_ Furnivale--whom we all speak of as "Cecy," you know, +has sent you such a pretty present. See, dear--you have never, I +think, had anything so pretty," and she held up the lovely beads +before Rosy's dazzled eyes. + +"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed the little girl, her whole face lighting +up, "O mamma, how very pretty! And they are for _me_. Oh, how +very kind of Miss Furni--of Miss Cecy," she went on, turning to the +old gentleman, "Will you please thank her for me _very_ much?" + +No one could look prettier or sweeter than Rosy at this moment, and +Mr. Furnivale began to think he had been mistaken in thinking the +little Vincent girl a much less lovable child than his old friend +Beata Warwick. + +"How very, very pretty," she repeated, touching the beads softly with +her little fingers. And then with a sudden change she turned to her +mother. + +"Is there a necklace for Bee, too?" she said. + +Mrs. Vincent's first feeling was of pleasure that Rosy should think of +her little friend, but there was in the child's face a look that made +her not sure that the question _was_ quite out of kindness to +Bee, and the mother's voice was a little grave and sad, as she +answered. + +"No, Rosy. There is not one for Bee. Mr. Furnivale brought it for you +only." + +Then Rosy's face was a curious study. There was a sort of pleasure in +it--and this, I must truly say, was not pleasure that Bee had +_not_ a present also, for Rosy was not greedy or even selfish in +the common way, but it was pleasure at being put first, and joined to +this pleasure was a nice honest sorrow that Bee was left out. Now that +Rosy was satisfied that she herself was properly treated she found +time to think of Bee. And though the necklace had been six times as +pretty, though it had been all pearls or diamonds, it would not have +given Mrs. Vincent half the pleasure that this look of real unselfish +sorrow in Rosy's face sent through her heart. More still, when the +little girl, bending to her mother, whispered softly, + +"Mamma, would it be right of me to give it to Bee? I wouldn't mind +very much." + +"No, darling, no; but I am _very_ glad you thought of it. We will +do something to make up for it to Bee." And she added aloud, + +"Mr. Furnivale may _perhaps_ be able to get one something like it +for Bee, when he goes back to Italy." + +"Then I may show it to her. It won't be unkind to show it her?" asked +Rosy. And when her mother said "No, it would not be unkind," feeling +sure, with her faith in Bee's goodness that Rosy's pleasure would be +met with the heartiest sympathy--for "sympathy," dears, can be shown +to those about us in their joys as well as in their sorrows--Rosy ran +off in the highest spirits. Mr. Furnivale smiled as he saw her +delight, and Mrs. Vincent was, oh so pleased to be able to tell him, +that Rosy, of herself, had offered to give it to Bee, that that was +what she had been whispering about. + +"Not that Beata would have been willing to take it," she added, "she +is the most unselfish child possible." + +[Illustration: 'DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?' ROSY +REPEATED.] + +"And unselfishness is sometimes, catching, luckily for poor human +nature," said the old gentleman, laughing. And Mrs. Vincent laughed +too--the whole world seemed to have grown brighter to her since the +little gleam she believed she had had of true gold at the bottom of +Rosy's wayward little heart. + +And Rosy ran gleefully off to her friend. + +"Bee, Bee," she cried, "stop playing, do. I have something to show +you. And you too, Fixie, you may come and see it if you like. See," as +the two children ran up to her breathlessly, and she opened the box, +"see," and she held up the lovely necklace, lovelier than ever as it +glittered in the sunshine, every colour seeming to mix in with the +others and yet to stand out separate in the most beautiful way. "Did +you _ever_ see anything so pretty, Bee?" Rosy repeated. + +"_Never_," said Beata, with her whole heart in her voice. + +"Nebber," echoed Fixie, his blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual. + +"And is it _yours_, Rosy?" asked Bee. + +"Yes mine, my very own. Mr. Furniture brought it me from--from +somewhere. I don't remember the name of the place, but I know it's +somewhere in the country that's the shape of a boot." + +"Italy," said Bee, whose geography was not quite so hazy as Rosy's. + +"Yes, I suppose it's Italy, but I don't care where it came from as +long as I've got it. Oh, isn't it lovely? I may wear it for best. +Won't it be pretty with a quite white frock? And, Bee, they said +something, but perhaps I shouldn't tell." + +"Don't tell it then," said Bee, whose whole attention was given to the +necklace. "O Rosy, I _am_ so glad you've got such a pretty thing. +Don't you feel happy?" and she looked up with such pleasure in her +eyes that Rosy's heart was touched. + +"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the +least bit vexed, Bee, that _you_ haven't got it, or at least that +you haven't got one like it?" + +Beata looked up with real surprise. + +"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy +dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of +such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not +my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll +let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads +gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours! +Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?" + +"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly _pitty_. I could fancy I saw +fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly +kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them." + +"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of +calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and +the corners of his mouth went down. + +"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try +some day and see if we can hear any stories--any way we could fancy +them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I +think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right. +Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your +mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't _think_ how pretty it looks." + +Off ran the three children, and Mrs. Vincent, as she saw them coming, +was pleased to see, as she expected, the brightness of Rosy's face +reflected in Beata's. + +"Mother," whispered Rosy, "I didn't say anything to Bee about her +perhaps getting one too. It was better not, wasn't it? It would be +nicer to be a surprise." + +"Yes, I think it would. Any way it is better to say nothing about it +just yet, as we are not at all _sure_ of it, you know. Does Bee +think the beads very pretty, Rosy?" + +"_Very_," said Rosy, "but she isn't the least _bit_ vexed +for me to have them and not her. She's _quite_ happy, mamma." + +"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Vincent, "and so are you, my Rosy, +when you let yourself _be_ your best self. Rosy," she went on, "I +have a sort of feeling that this pretty necklace will be a kind of +_talisman_ to you--perhaps it is silly of me to say it, but the +idea came into my mind--I was so glad that you offered to give it up +to Bee, and I am so glad for you really to see for yourself how sweet +and unselfish Bee is about it. Do you know what a talisman is?" + +"Yes, mamma," said Rosy, with great satisfaction. "Papa explained it +to me one day when I read it in a book. It is a kind of charm, isn't +it, mamma?--a kind of nice fairy charm. You mean that I should be so +pleased with the necklace, mamma, that it should make me feel happy +and good whenever I see it, and that I should remember, too, how nice +Bee has been about it." + +"Yes, dear," said her mother. "If it makes you feel like that, it +_will_ be a talisman." + +And feeling remarkably pleased with herself and everybody else, Rosy +ran off. + +Mr. Furnivale left the next day, but not without promises of another +visit before very long. + +"When Cecy will come with you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"And give her my bestest love," said Fixie. + +"Yes, indeed, my little man," said Mr. Furnivale, "and I'll tell her +too that she would scarcely know you again--so fat and rosy!" + +"And my love, please," said Beata, "I would _so_ like to see her +again." + +"And mine," added Rosy. "And please tell her how _dreadfully_ +pleased I am with the beads." + +And then the kind old gentleman drove away. + +For some time after this it really seemed as if Rosy's mother's half +fanciful idea was coming true. There was such a great improvement in +Rosy--she seemed so much happier in herself, and to care so much more +about making other people happy too. + +"I really think the necklace _is_ a talisman," said Mrs. Vincent, +laughing, to Rosy's father one day. + +Not that Rosy always wore it. It was kept for dress occasions, but to +her great delight her mother let her take care of it herself, instead +of putting it away with the gold chain and locket her aunt had given +her on her last birthday, and the pearl ring her other godmother had +sent her, which was much too large for her small fingers at present, +and her ivory-bound prayer-book, and various other treasures to be +enjoyed by her when she should be "a big girl." And many an hour the +children amused themselves with the lovely beads, examining them till +they knew every one separately. They even, I believe, had a name for +each, and Fixie had a firm belief that inside each crystal ball a +little fairy dwelt, and that every moonlight night all these fairies +came out and danced about Rosy's room, though he never could manage to +keep awake to see them. + +Altogether, there was no end to the pretty fancies and amusement which +the children got from "Mr. Furniture's present." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HARD TO BEAR. + + + "Give unto me, made lowly-wise, + The spirit of self-sacrifice." + --ODE TO DUTY. + +For some weeks things went on very happily. Of course there were +little troubles among the children sometimes, but compared with a +while ago the nursery was now a very comfortable and peaceful place. + +Martha was quietly pleased, but she had too much sense to say much +about it. Miss Pink was so delighted, that if Bee had not been a +modest and sensible little girl, Miss Pink's over praise of her, as +the cause of all this improvement, might have undone all the good. Not +that Miss Pink was not ready to praise Rosy too, and in a way that +would have done her no good either, if Rosy had cared enough for her +to think much of her praise or her blame. But one word or look even +from her mother was getting to be more to Rosy than all the +good-natured little governess's chatter; a nice smile from Martha +even, she felt to mean _really_ more, and one of Beata's sweet, +bright kisses would sometimes find its way straight to Rosy's queerly +hidden-away heart. + +"You see, Rosy, it _does_ get easier," Bee ventured to say one +day. She looked up a little anxiously to see how Rosy would take it, +for since the night she had found Rosy sobbing in bed they had never +again talked together quite so openly. Indeed, Rosy was not a person +whose confidence was easy to gain. But she was honest--that was the +best of her. + +She looked up quickly when Bee spoke. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it's getting easier. But you see, Bee, there +have only been nice things lately. If anything was to come to vex me +very much, I daresay it would be just like it used to be again. +There's not even been Colin to tease me for a long time!" + +Rosy's way of talking of herself puzzled Bee, though she couldn't +quite explain it. It was right, she knew, for Rosy not to feel too +sure of herself, but still she went too far that way. She almost +talked as if she had nothing to do with her own faults, that they must +come or not come like rainy days. + +"What are you thinking, Bee?" she said, as Bee did not answer at once. + +"I can't tell you quite how I mean, for I don't know it myself," said +Bee. "Only I think you are a little wrong. You should try to say, 'If +things come to vex me, I'll _try_ not to be vexed.'" + +Rosy shook her head. + +"No," she said, "I can't say that, for I don't think I should +_want_ to try," and Beata felt she could not say any more, only +she very much hoped that things to vex Rosy would _not_ come! + +The first thing at all out of the common that did come was, or was +going to be, perhaps I should say, a very nice thing. A note came one +day to Rosy's mother to say that a lady, a friend of hers living a few +miles off, wanted to see her, to talk over a plan she had in her head +for a birthday treat to her two little daughters. These two children +were twins; they were a little younger than Rosy, and she did not know +them _very_ well, as they lived some way off; but Mrs. Vincent +had often wished they could meet oftener, as they were very nice and +good children. + +And when Lady Esther had been, and had had her talk with Rosy's +mother, she looked in at the schoolroom a moment in passing, and +kissed the little girls, smiling, and seeming very pleased, for she +was so kind that nothing pleased her so much as to give pleasure to +others. + +"Your mother will tell you what we have been settling," she said, +nodding her head and looking very mysterious. + +And that afternoon Mrs. Vincent told the children all about it. Lady +Esther was going to have a fête for the twins' birthday--a +garden-fête, for it was to be hoped by that time the weather could be +counted upon, and all the children were to have fancy dresses! That +was to be the best fun of it all. Not very grand or expensive dresses, +and nothing which would make them uncomfortable, or prevent their +running about freely. Lady Esther's idea was that the children should +be dressed in _sets_, which would look very pretty when they came +into the big hall to dance before leaving. Lady Esther had proposed +that Rosy and Bee should be dressed as the pretty French queen, Marie +Antoinette, whom no doubt you have heard of, and her sister-in-law the +good princess, Madame Elizabeth. Fixie was to be the little prince, +and Lady Esther's youngest little girl the young princess, while the +twins were to be two maids of honour. But Rosy's mother had said she +would like better for her little girls to be the maids of honour, and +the twins to be the queen and princess, which seemed quite right, as +the party was to be in their house. And so it was settled. + +A few days later Lady Esther sent over sketches of the dresses she +proposed to have, and the children were greatly pleased and +interested. + +"May I wear my beads, mamma?" asked Rosy. + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"I daresay you can," she said, and Rosy clapped her hands with +delight, and everything seemed as happy as possible. + +"But remember," said Mrs. Vincent, "it is still quite a month off. Do +not talk or think about it _too_ much, or you will tire yourselves +out in fancy before the real pleasure comes." + +This was good advice. Bee tried to follow it by doing her lessons as +usual, and giving the same attention to them. But Rosy, with some of +her old self-will, would not leave off talking about the promised +treat. She was tiresome and careless at her lessons, and Miss Pink was +not firm enough to check her. Morning, noon, and night, Rosy went on +about the fete, most of all about the dresses, till Bee sometimes +wished the birthday treat had never been thought of, or at least that +Rosy had never been told of it. + +One morning when the children came down to see Mr. and Mrs. Vincent at +their breakfast, which they often were allowed to do, though they +still had their own breakfast earlier than the big people, in the +nursery with Martha, Beata noticed that Rosy's mother looked grave and +rather troubled. Bee took no notice of it, however, except that when +she kissed her, she said softly, + +"Are you not quite well, auntie?" for so Rosy's mother liked her to +call her. + +"Oh yes, dear, I am quite well," she answered, though rather wearily, +and a few minutes after, when Mr. Vincent had gone out to speak to +some of the servants, she called Rosy and Bee to come to her. + +"Rosy and Bee," she said kindly but gravely, "do you remember my +advising you not to talk or to think too much about Lady Esther's +treat?" + +"Yes," said Bee, and "Yes," said Rosy, though in a rather sulky tone +of voice. + +"Well, then, I should not have had to remind you both of my advice. I +am really sorry to have to find fault about anything to do with the +birthday party. I wanted it to have been nothing but pleasure to you. +But Miss Pink has told me she does not know what to do with you--that +you are so careless and inattentive, and constantly chattering about +Lady Esther's plan, and that at last she felt she must tell me." + +Bee felt her cheeks grow red. Mrs. Vincent thought she felt ashamed, +but it was not shame. Poor Bee, she had _never_ before felt as +she did just now. It was not true--how could Miss Pink have said so of +her? She knew it was not true, and the words, "I _haven't_ been +careless--I did do just what you said," were bursting out of her lips +when she stopped. What good would it do to defend herself except to +make Mrs. Vincent more vexed with Rosy, and to cause fresh bad +feelings in Rosy's heart? Would it not be better to say nothing, to +bear the blame, rather than lose the kind feelings that Rosy was +getting to have to her? All these thoughts were running through her +mind, making her feel rather puzzled and confused, for Bee did not +always see things very quickly; she needed to think them over, when, +to her surprise, Rosy looked up. + +"It isn't true," she said, not very respectfully it must be owned, "it +isn't true that Bee has been careless. If Miss Pink thinks telling +stories about Bee will make me any better, she's very silly, and I +shall just not care what she says about anything." + +"Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent sternly, "you shall care what _I_ say. +Go to your room and stay there, and you, Beata, go to yours. I am +surprised that you should encourage Rosy in her naughty contradiction, +for it is nothing else that makes her speak so of what Miss Pink felt +obliged to say of you." + +Rosy turned away with the cool sullen manner that had not been seen +for some time. Bee, choking with sobs--never, _never_, she said +to herself, not even when her mother went away, had she felt so +miserable, never had Aunt Lillias spoken to her like that before--poor +Bee rushed off to her room, and shutting the door, threw herself on +the floor and wondered _what_ she should do! + +Mrs. Vincent, if she had only known it, was nearly as unhappy as she. +It was not often she allowed herself to feel worried and vexed, as she +had felt that morning, but everything had seemed to go wrong--Miss +Pink's complaints, which were _not_ true, about Bee had really +grieved her. For Miss Pink had managed to make it seem that it was +mostly Bee's fault---and she had said little things which had made +Mrs. Vincent really unhappy about Bee being so very sweet and good +before people, but not _really_ so good when one saw more of her. + +Mrs. Vincent would not let Miss Pink see that she minded what she +said; she would hardly own it to herself. But for all that it had left +a sting. + +"_Can_ I have been mistaken in Bee?" was the thought that kept +coming into her mind. For Miss Pink had mixed up truth with untruths. + +"_Rosy,_" she had said, "whatever her faults, is so very honest," +which her mother knew to be true, but Mrs. Vincent did not--for she +was too honest herself to doubt other people--see that Miss Pink liked +better to throw the blame on Bee, not out of ill-will to Bee, but +because she was so very afraid that if there was any more trouble +about Rosy, she would have to leave off being her governess. + +Then this very morning too had brought a letter from Rosy's aunt, +proposing a visit for the very next week, accompanied, of course, by +the maid who had done Rosy so much harm! Poor Mrs. Vincent--it really +was trying--and she did not even like to tell Rosy's father how much +she dreaded his sister's visit. For Aunt Edith had meant and wished to +be so truly kind to Rosy that it seemed ungrateful not to be glad to +see her. + +Rosy and Bee were left in their rooms till some time later than the +usual school-hour, for Mrs. Vincent, wanting them to think over what +she had said, told Miss Pink to give Fixie his lessons first, and +then, before sending for the little girls to come down, she had a talk +with Miss Pink. + +"I have spoken to both Rosy and Bee very seriously, and told them of +your complaints," she said. + +Miss Pink grew rather red and looked uncomfortable. + +"I should be sorry for them to think I complained out of any +unkindness," she said. + +"It is not unkindness. It is only telling the truth to answer me when +I ask how they have been getting on," said Mrs. Vincent, rather +coldly. "Besides I myself saw how very badly Rosy's exercises were +written. I am very disappointed about Beata," she added, looking Miss +Pink straight in the face, and it seemed to her that the little +governess grew again red. "I can only hope they will both do better +now." + +Then Rosy and Bee were sent for. Rosy came in with a hard look on her +face. Bee's eyes were swollen with crying, and she seemed as if she +dared not look at her aunt, but she said nothing. Mrs. Vincent +repeated to them what she had just said about hoping they would do +better. + +"I will do my best," said Beata tremblingly, for she felt as if +another word would make her burst out crying again. + +"Oh, I am sure they are both going to be very good little girls now," +said Miss Pink, in her silly, fussy way, as if she was in a hurry to +change the subject, which indeed she was. + +Bee raised her poor red eyes, and looked at her quietly, and Mrs. +Vincent saw the look. Rosy, who had not yet spoken, muttered +something, but so low that nobody could quite hear it; only the words +"stories" and "not true" were heard. + +"Rosy," said her mother very severely, "be silent!" and soon after she +left the room. + +The schoolroom party was not a very cheerful one this morning, but +things went on quietly. Miss Pink was plainly uncomfortable, and made +several attempts to make friends, as it were, with Bee. Bee answered +gently, but that was all, and as soon as lessons were over she went +quietly upstairs. + +Two days after, Miss Vincent arrived. Rosy was delighted to hear she +was coming, and her pleasure in it seemed to make her forget about +Bee's undeserved troubles. So poor Bee had to try to forget them +herself. Her lessons were learnt and written without a fault--it was +impossible for Miss Pink to find anything to blame; and indeed she did +not wish to do so, or to be unkind, to Beata, so long as things went +smoothly with Rosy. And for these two days everything was very smooth. +Rosy did not want to be in disgrace when her aunt came, and she, too, +did her best, so that the morning of the day when Miss Vincent was +expected, Miss Pink told the children, with a most amiable face, that +she would be able to give a very good report of them to Rosy's mother. + +Bee said nothing. Rosy, turning round, saw the strange, half-sad look +on Bee's face, and it came back into her mind how unhappy her little +friend had been, and how little she had deserved to be so. And in her +heart, too, Rosy knew that in reality it was owing to _her_ that +Beata had suffered, and a sudden feeling of sorrow rushed over her, +and, to Miss Pink's and Bee's astonishment, she burst out, + +"You may say what you like of me to mamma, Miss Pink. It is true I +have done my lessons well for two days, and it is true I did them +badly before. But if you can't tell the truth about Bee, it would be +much better for you to say nothing at all." + +Miss Pink grew pinker than usual, and she was opening her lips to +speak, when Beata interrupted her. + +"Don't say anything, Miss Pink," she said. "It's no good. _I_ +have said nothing, and--and I'll try to forget--you know what. I don't +want there to be any more trouble. It doesn't matter for me. O Rosy +dear," she went on entreatingly, "_don't_ say anything more that +might make more trouble, and vex your mamma with you, just as your +aunt's coming. Oh, _don't_." + +She put her arms round Rosy as if she would have held her back, Rosy +only looking half convinced. But in her heart Rosy _was_ very +anxious not to be in any trouble when her aunt came. She didn't quite +explain to herself why. Some of the reasons were good, and some were +not very good. One of the best was, I think, that she didn't want her +mother to be more vexed, or to have the fresh vexation of her aunt +seeming to think--as she very likely would, if there was any excuse +for it--that Rosy was less good under her mother's care than she had +been in Miss Vincent's. + +Rosy was learning truly to love, and what, for her nature, was almost +of more consequence, really to _trust_ her mother, and a feeling +of _loyalty_--if you know what that beautiful word means, dear +children,--I hope you do--was beginning for the first time to grow in +her cross-grained, suspicious little heart. Then, again, for her own +sake, Rosy wished all to be smooth when her aunt and Nelson arrived, +which was not a _bad_ feeling, if not a very good or unselfish +one. And then, again, she did not want to have any trouble connected +with Bee. She knew her Aunt Edith had not liked the idea of Bee +coming, and that if she fancied the little stranger was the cause of +any worry to her darling she would try to get her sent away. And Rosy +did not now _at all_ want Bee to be sent away! + +These different feelings were all making themselves heard rather +confusedly in her heart, and she hardly knew what to answer to Bee's +appeal, when Miss Pink came to the rescue. + +"Bee is right, Rosy," she said, her rather dolly-looking face flushing +again. "It is much better to leave things. You may trust me to--to +speak very kindly of--of you _both_. And if I was--at all +mistaken in what I said of you the other day, Bee--perhaps you had +been trying more than I--than I gave you credit for--I'm very sorry. +If I can say anything to put it right, I will. But it is very +difficult to--to tell things quite correctly sometimes. I had been +worried and vexed, and then Mrs. Vincent rather startled me by asking +me about you, Rosy, and by something she said about my not managing +you well. And--oh, I don't know _what_ we would do, my mother and +I, if I lost this nice situation!" she burst out suddenly, forgetting +everything else in her distress. "And poor mamma has been _so_ +ill lately, I've often scarcely slept all night. I daresay I've been +cross sometimes"--and Miss Pink finished up by bursting into tears. +Her distress gave the finishing touch to Bee's determination to bear +the undeserved blame. + +"No, poor Miss Pink," she said, running round to the little +governess's side of the table, "I _don't_ think you are cross. I +shouldn't mind if you were a little sometimes. And I know we are often +troublesome--aren't we, Rosy?" Rosy gave a little grunt, which was a +good deal for her, and showed that her feelings, too, were touched. +"But just then I _had_ been trying. Aunt Lillias had spoken to us +about it, and I _did_ want to please her"--and the unbidden tears +rose to Bee's eyes. "Please, Miss Pink, don't think I don't know when +I _am_ to blame, but--but you won't speak that way of me another +time when I've not been to blame." A sort of smothered sob here came +from Miss Pink, as a match to Rosy's grunt. "And _please_," Bee +went on, "don't say _anything_ more about that time to Aunt +Lillias. It's done now, and it would only make fresh trouble." + +That it would make trouble for _her_, Miss Pink felt convinced, +and she was not very difficult to persuade to take Bee's advice. + +"It would indeed bring _me_ trouble," she thought, as she walked +home more slowly than usual that the fresh air might take away the +redness from her eyes before her mother saw her. "I know Mrs. Vincent +would never forgive me if she thought I had exaggerated or +misrepresented. I'm sure I didn't want to blame Bee; but I was so +startled; and Mrs. Vincent seemed to think so much less of it when I +let her suppose they had _both_ been careless and tiresome. But +it has been a lesson to me. And Beata is _very_ good. I could +never say a word against her again." + +Miss Vincent arrived, and with her, of course, her maid Nelson. +Everything went off most pleasantly the first evening. Aunt Edith +seemed delighted to see Rosy again, and that was only kind and +natural. And she said to every one how well Rosy was looking, and how +much she was grown, and said, too, how nice it was for her to have a +companion of her own age. She had been so pleased to hear about little +Miss Warwick from Cecy Furnivale, whom she had seen lately. + +Bee stared rather at this. She hardly knew herself under the name of +little Miss Warwick; but she answered Miss Vincent's questions in her +usual simple way, and told Rosy, when they went up to bed, that she +did not wonder she loved her aunt--she seemed so very kind. + +"Yes," said Rosy. Then she sat still for a minute or two, as if she +was thinking over something very deeply. "I don't think I'd like to go +back to live with auntie," she said at last. + +"To leave your mother! No, _of course_ you wouldn't," exclaimed +Bee, as if there could be no doubt about the matter. + +"But I did think once I would," said Rosy, nodding her head--"I did." + +"I don't believe you really did," said Bee calmly. "Perhaps you +_thought_ you did when you were vexed about something." + +"Well, I don't see much difference between wanting a thing, and +_thinking_ you want it," said Rosy. + +This was one of the speeches which Bee did not find it very easy to +answer all at once, so she told Rosy she would think it over in her +dreams, for she was very sleepy, and she was sure Aunt Lillias would +be vexed if they didn't go to bed quickly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR. + + + "And the former called the latter 'little Prig.'"--EMERSON. + +"And how well that sweet child is looking, Nelson," said Miss Vincent +that evening to her maid as she was brushing her hair. + +"I am glad you think so, ma'am," replied Nelson, in a rather queer +tone of voice. + +"Why, what do you mean?" said Miss Vincent. "Do _you_ not think +so? To be sure it was by candlelight, and I am very near-sighted, but +I don't think any one could say that she looks ill. She is both taller +and stouter." + +"Perhaps so, ma'am. I wasn't thinking so much of her healthfulness. +With the care that _was_ taken of her, she couldn't but be a fine +child. But it's her _feelin's_, ma'am, that seems to be so +changed. All her spirits, her lovely high spirits, gone! Why, this +evening, that Martha--or whatever they call her--a' upsetting thing +_I_ call her--spoke to her that short about having left the +nursery door open because Master Fixie chose to fancy he was cold, +that I wonder any young lady would take it. And Miss Rosy, bless her, +up she got and shut it as meek as meek, and 'I'm very sorry, Martha--I +forgot,' she said. I couldn't believe my ears. I could have cried to +see her so kept down like. And she's so quiet and so grave." + +"She is certainly quieter than she used to be," said Miss Vincent, +"but surely she can't be unhappy. She would have told me--and I +thought it was so nice for her to have that little companion." + +"Umph," said Nelson. She had a way of her own of saying "umph" that it +is impossible to describe. Then in a minute or two she went on again. +"Well, ma'am, you know I'm one as must speak my mind. And the truth is +I _don't_ like that Miss Bee, as they call her, at all. She's far +too good, by way of being too good, I mean, for a child. Give me Miss +Rosy's tempers and fidgets--I'd rather have them than those +smooth-faced ways. And she's come round Miss Rosy somehow. Why, ma'am, +you'd hardly believe it, she'd hardly a word for me when she first saw +me. It was 'Good-evening, Nelson. How do you do?' as cool like as +could be. And it was all that Miss Bee's doing. I saw Miss Rosy look +round at her like to see what she thought of it." + +"Well, well, Nelson," said Miss Vincent, quite vexed and put out, "I +don't see what is to be done. We can't take the child away from her +own parents. All the same, I'm very glad to have come to see for +myself, and if I find out anything not nice about that child, I shall +stand upon no ceremony, I assure you," and with this Nelson had to be +content. + +It was true that Rosy had met Nelson very coldly. As I have told you +before, Rosy was by no means clever at _pretending_, and a very +good thing it is _not_ to be so. She had come to take a dislike +to Nelson, and to wonder how she could ever have been so under her. +Especially now that she was learning to love and trust Beata, she did +not like to let her know how many wrong and jealous ideas Nelson had +put in her head, and so before Beata she was very cold to the maid. +But in this Rosy was wrong. Nelson had taught her much that had done +her harm, but still she had been, or had meant to be, very good and +kind to Rosy, and Rosy owed her for this real gratitude. It was a +pity, too, for Bee's sake that Rosy had been so cold and stiff to +Nelson, for on Bee, Nelson laid all the blame of it, and the harm did +not stop here, as you will see. + +Miss Vincent never got up early, and the next morning passed as usual. +But she sent for Rosy to come to her room while she was dressing, +after the morning lessons were over, which prevented the two little +girls having their usual hour's play in the garden, and Beata wandered +about rather sadly, feeling as if Rosy was being taken away from her. +At luncheon Rosy came in holding her aunt's hand and looking very +pleased. + +"You don't know what lovely things auntie's been giving me," she said +to Bee as she passed her. "And Nelson's making me such a +_beautiful_ apron--the newest fashion." + +Nelson had managed to get into Rosy's favour again--that was clear. +Beata did not think this to herself. She was too simple and +kind-hearted to think anything except that it was natural for Rosy to +be glad to see her old nurse again, though Bee had a feeling somehow +that she didn't much care for Nelson and that Nelson didn't care for +her! + +"By-the-bye, Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent, in the middle of luncheon, "did +you show your aunt your Venetian beads?" + +"Yes," said Miss Vincent, answering for Rosy, "she did, and great +beauties they are." + +"_Nelson_ didn't think so--at least not at first," said Rosy, +rather spitefully. She had always had a good deal of spite at Nelson, +even long ago, when Nelson had had so much power of her. "Nelson said +they were glass trash, till auntie explained to her." + +"She didn't understand what they were," said Miss Vincent, seeming a +little annoyed. "She thinks them beautiful now." + +"Yes _now_, because she knows they must have cost a lot of +money," persisted Rosy. "Nelson never thinks anything pretty that +doesn't cost a lot." + +These remarks were not pleasant to Miss Vincent. She knew that Mrs. +Vincent thought Nelson too free in her way of speaking, and she did +not like any of her rather impertinent sayings to be told over. + +"Certainly," she thought to herself, "I think it is quite a mistake +that Rosy is too much kept down," but just as she was thinking this, +Rosy's mother looked up and said to her quietly, "Rosy, I don't think +you should talk so much. And you, Bee, are almost too silent!" she +added, smiling at Beata, for she had a feeling that since Miss +Vincent's arrival Bee looked rather lonely. + +"Yes," said Rosy's aunt, "we don't hear your voice at all, Miss Beata. +You're not like my chatter-box Rosy, who always must say out what she +thinks." + +The words sounded like a joke--there was nothing in them to vex Bee, +but something in the tone in which they were said made the little girl +grow red and hot. + +"I--I was listening to all of you," she said quietly. She was anxious +to say something, not to seem to Mrs. Vincent as if she was cross or +vexed. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother. "Rosy and her aunt have a great deal to say +to each other after being so long without meeting," and Miss Vincent +looked pleased at this, as Rosy's mother meant her to be. + +"By-the-bye," continued Mrs. Vincent, "has Rosy told you all about the +fête there is going to be at Summerlands?" Summerlands was the name of +Lady Esther's house. + +"Oh yes," said Miss Vincent, "and very charming it will be, no doubt, +only _I_ should have liked my pet to be the queen, as she tells +me was at first proposed." + +This was what Mrs. Vincent thought one of Aunt Edith's silly speeches, +and Rosy could not help wishing when she heard it that she had not +told her aunt that her being the queen had been thought of at all. She +looked a little uncomfortable, and her mother, glancing at her, +understood her feelings and felt sorry for her. + +"I think it is better as it is," she said. "Would you like to hear +about the dresses Rosy and Bee are to wear?" she went on. "I think +they will be very pretty. Lady Esther has ordered them in London with +her own little girls'." And then she told Miss Vincent all about the +dresses, so that Rosy's uncomfortable feeling went away, and she felt +grateful to her mother. + +After luncheon the little girls went out together in the garden. + +"I'm so glad to be together again," said Bee, "it seems to me as if I +had hardly seen you to-day, Rosy." + +"What nonsense!" said Rosy. "Why, I was only in auntie's room for +about a quarter of an hour after Miss Pink went." + +"A quarter of an hour," said Bee. "No indeed, Rosy. You were more than +an hour, I am sure. I was reading to Fixie in the nursery, for he's +got a cold and he mayn't go out, and you don't know what a great lot I +read. And oh, Rosy, Fixie wants so to know if he may have your beads +this afternoon, just to hold in his hand and look at. He can't hurt +them." + +"Very well," said Rosy. "He may have them for half an hour or so, but +not longer." + +"Shall I go and give them to him now?" said Bee, ready to run off. + +"Oh no, he won't need them just yet. Let's have a run first. Let's see +which of us will get to the middle bush first--you go right and I'll +go left." + +This race round the lawn was a favourite one with the children. They +were playing merrily, laughing and calling to each other, when a +messenger was seen coming to them from the house. It was Samuel the +footman. + +"Miss Rosy," he said as he came within hearing, "you must please to +come in _at onst_. Miss Vincent is going a drive and you are to +go with her." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Rosy, "I don't think I want to go." + +"I think you must," said Bee, though she could not help sighing a +little. + +"Miss Vincent is going to Summerlands," said Samuel. + +"Oh, then I _do_ want to go," said Rosy. "Never mind, Bee--I wish +you were going too. But I'll tell you all I hear about the party when +I come' back. But I'm sorry you're not going." + +She kissed Bee as she ran off. This was a good deal more than Rosy +would have done some weeks ago, and Bee, feeling this, tried to be +content. But the garden seemed dull and lonely after Rosy had gone, +and once or twice the tears would come into Bee's eyes. + +"After all," she said to herself, "those little girls are much the +happiest who can always live with their own mammas and have sisters +and brothers of their own, and then there can't be strange aunts who +are not their aunts." But then she thought to herself how much better +it was for her than for many little girls whose mothers had to be away +and who were sent to school, where they had no such kind friend as +Mrs. Vincent. + +"I'll go in and read to Fixie," she then decided, and she made her way +to the house. + +Passing along the passage by the door of Rosy's room, it came into her +mind that she might as well get the beads for Fixie which Rosy had +given leave for. She went in--the room was rather in confusion, for +Rosy had been dressing in a hurry for her drive--but Bee knew where +the beads were kept, and, opening the drawer, she found them easily. +She was going away with them in her hand when a sharp voice startled +her. It was Nelson. Bee had not noticed that she was in a corner of +the room hanging up some of Rosy's things, for, much to Martha's +vexation, Nelson was very fond of coming into Rosy's room and helping +her to dress. + +"What are you doing in Miss Rosy's drawers?" said Nelson; and Bee, +from surprise at her tone and manner, felt herself get red, and her +voice trembled a little as she answered. + +"I was getting something for Master Fixie--something for him to play +with." And she held up the necklace. + +Nelson looked at her still in a way that was not at all nice. "And who +said you might?" she said next. + +"Rosy--_of course_, Miss Rosy herself," said Bee, opening her +eyes, "I would not take anything of hers without her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of grunt. But she had an ill-will at the pretty +beads, because she had called them rubbish, not knowing what they +were; so she said nothing more, and Bee went quietly away, not hearing +the words Nelson muttered to herself, "Sly little thing. I don't like +those quiet ways." + +When Bee got to the nursery, she was very glad she had come. Fixie was +sitting in a corner looking very desolate, for Martha was busy looking +over the linen, as it was Saturday, and his head was "a'ting +dedfully," he said. He brightened up when he saw Bee and what she had +brought, and for more than an hour the two children sat perfectly +happy and content examining the wonderful beads, and making up little +fanciful stories about the fairies who were supposed to live in them. +Then when Fixie seemed to have had enough of the beads, Bee and he +took them back to Rosy's room and put them carefully away, and then +returned to the nursery, where they set to work to make a house with +the chairs and Fixie's little table. The nursery was not carpeted all +over--that is to say, round the edge of the room the wood of the floor +was left bare, for this made it more easy to lift the carpet often and +shake it on the grass, which is a very good thing, especially in a +nursery. The house was an old one, and so the wood floor was not very +pretty; here and there it was rather uneven, and there were queer +cracks in it. + +"See, Bee," said Fixie, while they were making their house, "see what +a funny place I've found in the f'oor," and he pointed to a small, +dark, round hole. It was made by what is called a knot in the wood +having dried up and dropped out long, long ago probably, for, as I +told you, the house was very old. + +"What is there down there, does you fink?" said Fixie, looking up at +Bee and then down again at the mysterious hole. "Does it go down into +the middle of the world, p'raps?" + +Beata laughed. + +"Oh no, Fixie, not so far as that, I am sure," she said. "At the most, +it can't go farther than the ceiling of the room underneath." + +Fixie looked puzzled, and Bee explained to him that there was a small +space left behind the wood planking which make the floor of one room +and the thinner boards which are the ceiling of an under room. + +[Illustration: 'WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?' SAID FIXIE] + +"The ceiling doesn't need to be so strong, you see," she said. "We +don't walk and jump on the ceiling, but we do on the floor, so the +ceiling boards would not be strong enough for the floor." + +"Yes," said Fixie, "on'y the flies walks on the ceiling, and they's +not very heavy, is they, Bee? But," he went on, "I would like to see +down into this hole. If I had a long piece of 'ting I could +_fish_ down into it, couldn't I, Bee? You don't fink there's +anything dedful down there, do you? Not fogs or 'nakes?" + +"No," said Bee, "I'm sure there are no frogs or snakes. There +_might_ be some little mice." + +"Is mice the same as mouses?" said Fixie; and when Bee nodded, "Why +don't you say mouses then?" he asked, "it's a much samer word." + +"But I didn't make the words," said Bee, "one has to use them the way +that's counted right." + +But Fixie seemed rather grumbly and cross. + +"_I_ like mouses," he persisted; and so, to change his ideas, Bee +went on talking about the knot hole. "We might get a stick to-morrow," +she said, "and poke it down to see how far it would go." + +"Not a 'tick," said Fixie, "it would hurt the little mouses. I didn't +say a 'tick--I said a piece of 'ting. I fink you'se welly unkind, Bee, +to hurt the poor little mouses," and he grew so very doleful about it +that Bee was quite glad when Martha called them to tea. + +"I don't know what's the matter with Fixie," she said to Martha, in a +low voice. + +"He's not very well," said Martha, looking at her little boy +anxiously. But tea seemed to do Fixie good, and he grew brighter +again, so that Martha began to think there could not be much wrong. + +Nursery tea was long over before Rosy came home, and so she stayed +down in the drawing-room to have some with her mother and aunt. And +even after that she did not come back to the other children, but went +into her aunt's room to look over some things they had bought in the +little town they had passed, coming home. She just put her head in at +the nursery door, seeming in very high spirits, and called out to Bee +that she would tell her how nice it had been at Summerlands. + +But the evening went on. Fixie grew tired and cross, and Martha put +him to bed; and it was not till nearly the big people's dinner-time +that Rosy came back to the nursery, swinging her hat on her arm, and +looking rather untidy and tired too. "I think I'll go to bed," she +said. "It makes me feel funny in my head, driving so far." + +"Let me put away your hat, Miss Rosy," said Martha, "it's getting all +crushed and it's your best one." + +"Oh, bother," said Rosy, and the tone was like the Rosy of some months +ago. "What does it matter? _You_ won't have to pay for a new +one." + +Martha said nothing, but quietly put away the hat, which had fallen on +the floor. Bee, too, said nothing, but her heart was full. She had +been alone, except for poor little Fixie, all the afternoon; and the +last hour or so she had been patiently waiting for Rosy to come to the +nursery to tell her, as she had promised, all her adventures. + +"I'm going to bed," repeated Rosy. + +"Won't you stay and talk a little?" said Bee; "you said you would tell +me about Summerlands." + +"I'm too tired," said Rosy. Then suddenly she added, sharply, "What +were you doing in my drawers this afternoon?" + +"In your drawers?" repeated Bee, half stupidly, as it were. She was +not, as I have told you, very quick in catching up a meaning; she was +thoughtful and clear-headed but rather slow, and when any one spoke +sharply it made her still slower. "In your drawers, Rosy?" she said +again, for, for a moment, she forgot about having fetched the +necklace. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "you were in my drawers, for Nelson told me. She +said I wasn't to tell you she'd told me, but I told her I would. I +don't like mean ways. But I'd just like to know what you were doing +among my things." + +It all came back to Bee now. + +"I only went to fetch the beads for Fixie," she said, her voice +trembling. "You said I might." + +"And did you put them back again? And did you not touch anything +else?" Rosy went on. + +"Of course I put them back, and--_of course_ I didn't touch +anything else," exclaimed Bee. "Rosy, how can you, how dare you speak +to me like that? As if I would steal your things. You have no +_right_ to speak that way, and Nelson is a bad, horrible woman. I +will tell your mother all about it to-morrow morning." + +And bursting into tears, Beata ran out of the nursery to take refuge +in her own room. Nor would she come out or speak to Rosy when she +knocked at the door and begged her to do so. But she let Martha in to +help her to undress, and listened gently to the good nurse's advice +not to take Miss Rosy's unkindness to heart. + +"She's sorry for it already," said Martha. "And, though perhaps I +shouldn't say it, you can see for yourself, Miss Bee dear, that it's +not herself, as one may say." And Martha gave a sigh. "I'm sorry for +Miss Rosy's mamma," she added, as she bid Bee good-night. And the +words went home to Bee's loving, grateful little heart. It was very +seldom, very seldom indeed, that unkind or ungentle thoughts or +feelings rested there. Never hardly in all her life had Beata given +way to anger as she had done that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +STINGS FOR BEE. + + + "And I will look up the chimney, + And into the cupboard to make quite sure." + --AUTHOR OF LILLIPUT LEVEE. + +Fixie was not quite well the next morning, as Martha had hoped he +would be. Still he did not seem ill enough to stay in bed, so she +dressed him as usual. But at breakfast he rested his head on his hand, +looking very doleful, "very sorry for himself," as Scotch people say. +And Martha, though she tried to cheer him up, was evidently anxious. + +Mother came up to see him after breakfast, and she looked less uneasy +than Martha. + +"It's only a cold, I fancy," she said, but when Martha followed her +out of the room and reminded her of all the children's illnesses Fixie +had _not_ had, and which often look like a cold at the beginning, +she agreed that it might be better to send for the doctor. + +"Have you any commissions for Blackthorpe?" she said to Miss Vincent +when she, Aunt Edith, came down to the drawing-room, a little earlier +than usual that morning. "I am going to send to ask the doctor to come +and see Fixie." + +Aunt Edith had already heard from Nelson about Felix not being well, +and that was why she had got up earlier, for she was in a great +fright. + +"I am thankful to hear it," she said; "for there is no saying what his +illness may be going to be. But, Lillias, _of course_ you won't +let darling Rosy stay in the nursery." + +"I hadn't thought about it," said Rosy's mother. "Perhaps I am a +little careless about these things, for you see all the years I was in +India I had only Fixie, and he was quite out of the way of infection. +Besides, Rosy has had measles and scarlet fever, and----" + +"But not whooping-cough, or chicken-pox, or mumps, or even smallpox. +Who knows but what it may be smallpox," said Aunt Edith, working +herself up more and more. + +Mrs. Vincent could hardly help smiling. "I _don't_ think that's +likely," she said. "However, I am glad you mentioned the risk, for I +think there is much more danger for Bee than for Rosy, for Bee, like +Fixie, has had none of these illnesses. I will go up to the nursery +and speak to Martha about it at once," and she turned towards the +door. + +"But you will separate Rosy too," insisted Miss Vincent, "the dear +child can sleep in my room. Nelson will be only too delighted to have +her again." + +"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would +be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head +again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped +Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so +much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave +Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in +the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." + +The doctor came in the afternoon, but he was not able to say much. It +would take, he said, a day or two to decide what was the matter with +the little fellow. But Fixie was put to bed, and Rosy and Bee were +told on no account to go into either of the nurseries. Fixie was not +sorry to go to bed; he had been so dull all the morning, playing by +himself in a comer of the nursery, but he cried a little when he was +told that Bee must not come and sit by him and read or tell him +stories as she always was ready to do when he was not quite well. And +Bee looked ready to cry too when she saw his distress! + +It was not a very cheerful time. The children felt unsettled by being +kept out of their usual rooms and ways. Rosy was constantly running +off to her aunt's room, or to ask Nelson about something or other, and +Bee did not like to follow her, for she had an uncomfortable feeling +that neither Nelson nor her mistress liked her to come. Nelson was in +a very gloomy humour. + +"It will be a sad pity to be sure," she said to Rosy, "if Master +Fixie's gone and got any sort of catching illness." + +"How do you mean?" said Rosy. "It won't much matter except that Bee +and I can't go into the nursery or my room. Bee's room has a door out +into the other passage, I heard mamma saying we could sleep there if +the nursery door was kept locked. I think it would be fun to sleep in +Bee's room. I shouldn't mind." + +Nelson grunted. She did not approve of Rosy's liking Beata. + +"Ah, well," she said, "it isn't only your Aunt Edith that's afraid of +infection. If it's measles that Master Fixie's got, you won't go to +Lady Esther's party, Miss Rosy." + +Rosy opened her eyes. "Not go to the party! we _must_ go," she +exclaimed, and before Nelson knew what she was about, off Rosy had +rushed to confide this new trouble to Bee, and hear what she would say +about it. Bee, too, looked grave, for her heart was greatly set on the +idea of the Summerlands fete. + +"I don't know," she replied. "I hope dear little Fixie is not going to +be very ill. Any way, Rosy, I don't think Nelson should have said +that. Your mother would have told us herself if she had wanted us to +know it." + +"Indeed," said a harsh voice behind her, "I don't require a little +chit like you, Miss Bee, to teach me my duty," and turning round, +Beata saw that Nelson was standing in the doorway, for she had +followed Rosy, a little afraid of the effect of what she had told her. +Bee felt sorry that Nelson had overheard what she had said, though +indeed there was no harm in it. + +"I did not mean to vex you, Nelson," she said, "but I'm sure it is +better to wait till Aunt Lillias tells us herself." + +Nelson looked very angry, and walked off in a huff, muttering +something the children could not catch. + +"I wish you wouldn't always quarrel with Nelson," said Rosy crossly. +"She always gets on with _me_ quite well. I shall have to go and +get her into a good humour again, for I want her to finish my apron." + +Rosy ran off, but Bee stayed alone, her eyes filled with tears. + +"It _isn't_ my fault," she said to herself. "I don't know what to +do. Nothing is the same since they came. I'll write to mother and ask +her not to leave me here any longer. I'd rather be at school or +anywhere than stay here when they're all so unkind to me now." + +But then wiser thoughts came into her mind. They weren't "all" unkind, +and she knew that Mrs. Vincent herself had troubles to bear. +Besides--what was it her mother had always said to her?--that it was +at such times that one's real wish to be good was tried; when all is +smooth and pleasant and every one kind and loving, what is easier than +to be kind and pleasant in return? It is when others are _not_ +kind, but sharp and suspicious and selfish, that one _has_ to +"try" to return good for evil, gentleness for harshness, kind thoughts +and ways for the cold looks or angry words which one cannot help +feeling sadly, but which lose half their sting when not treasured up +and exaggerated by dwelling upon them. + +And feeling happier again, Bee went back to what she was busy +at--making a little toy scrap-book for Fixie which she meant to send +in to him the next morning as if it had come by post. And she had need +of her good resolutions, for she hardly saw Rosy again all day, and +when they were going to bed Nelson came to help Rosy to undress and +went on talking to her so much all the time about people and places +Bee knew nothing about, that it was impossible for her to join in at +all. She kissed Rosy as kindly as usual when Nelson had left the room, +but it seemed to her that her kiss was very coldly returned. + +"You're not vexed with me for anything, are you, Rosy?" she could not +help saying. + +"Vexed with you? No, I never said I was vexed with you," Rosy +answered. "I wish you wouldn't go on like that, Bee, it's tiresome. I +can't be always kissing and petting you." + +And that was all the comfort poor Bee could get to go to sleep with! + +For a day or two still the doctor could not say what was wrong with +Fixie, but at last he decided that it was only a sort of feverish +attack brought on by his having somehow or other caught cold, for +there had been some damp and rainy weather, even though spring was now +fast turning into summer. + +The little fellow had been rather weak and out of sorts for some time, +and as soon as he was better, Mrs. Vincent made up her mind to send +him off with Martha for a fortnight to a sheltered seaside village not +far from their home. Beata was very sorry to see them go. She almost +wished she was going with them, for though she had done her best to be +patient and cheerful, nothing was the same as before the coming of +Rosy's aunt. Rosy scarcely seemed to care to play with her at all. Her +whole time, when not at her lessons, was spent in her aunt's room, +generally with Nelson, who was never tired of amusing her and giving +in to all her fancies. Bee grew silent and shy. She was losing her +bright happy manner, and looked as if she no longer felt sure that she +was a welcome little guest. Mrs. Vincent saw the change in her, but +did not quite understand it, and felt almost inclined to be vexed with +her. + +"She knows it is only for a short time that Rosy's aunt is here. She +might make the best of it," thought Mrs. Vincent. For she did not know +fully how lonely Bee's life now was, and how many cold or unkind words +she had to bear from Rosy, not to speak of Nelson's sharp and almost +rude manner; for, though Rosy was not cunning, Nelson was so, and she +managed to make it seem always as if Bee, and not Rosy, was in fault. + +"Where is Bee?" said Mrs. Vincent one afternoon when she went into the +nursery, where, at this time of day, Nelson was now generally to be +found. + +"I don't know, mamma," said Rosy. Then, without saying any more about +Bee, she went on eagerly, "Do look, mamma, at the lovely opera-cloak +Nelson has made for my doll? It isn't _quite_ ready--there's a +little white fluff----" + +"Swansdown, Miss Rosy, darling," said Nelson. + +"Well, swansdown then--it doesn't matter--mamma knows," said Rosy +sharply, "there's white stuff to go round the neck. Won't it be +lovely, mother?" + +She looked up with her pretty face all flushed with pleasure, for +nobody could be prettier than Rosy when she was pleased. + +"Yes dear, _very_ pretty," said her mother. It was impossible to +deny that Nelson was very kind and patient, and Mrs. Vincent would +have felt really pleased if only she had not feared that Nelson did +Rosy harm by her spoiling and flattery. "But where can Bee be?" she +said again. "Does she not care about dolls too?" + +"She used to," said Rosy. "But Bee is very fond of being alone now, +mamma. And I don't care for her when she looks so gloomy." + +"But what makes her so?" said Mrs. Vincent. "Are you quite kind to +her, Rosy?" + +"Oh indeed, yes, ma'am," interrupted Nelson, without giving Rosy time +to answer. "Of that you may be very sure. Indeed many's the time I say +to myself Miss Rosy's patience is quite wonderful. Such a free, +outspoken young lady as she is, and Miss Bee _so_ different. I +don't like them secrety sort of children, and Miss Rosy feels it +too--she--" + +"Nelson, I didn't ask for your opinion of little Miss Warwick," said +Mrs. Vincent, very coldly. "I know you are very kind to Rosy. But I +cannot have any interference when I find fault with her." + +Nelson looked very indignant, but Mrs. Vincent's manner had something +in it which prevented her answering in any rude way. + +"I'm sure I meant no offence," she said sourly, but that was all. + +Beata was alone in the schoolroom, writing, or trying to write, to her +mother. Her letters, which used to be such a pleasure, had grown +difficult. + +"Mamma said I was to write everything to her," she said to herself, +"but I _can't_ write to tell her I'm not happy. I wonder if it's +any way my fault." + +Just then the door opened and Mrs. Vincent looked in. + +"All alone, Bee," she said. "Would it not be more cheerful in the +nursery with Rosy? You have no lessons to do now? + +"No" said Bee, "I was beginning a letter to mamma. But it isn't to go +just yet." + +"Well, dear, go and play with Rosy. I don't like to see you moping +alone. You must be my bright little Bee--you wouldn't like any one to +think you are not happy with us?" + +"Oh no," said Bee. But there was little brightness in her tone, and +Mrs. Vincent felt half provoked with her. + +"She has not really anything to complain of," + +she said to herself, "and she cannot expect me to speak to her against +Aunt Edith and Nelson. She should make the best of it for the time." + +As Bee was leaving the schoolroom Mrs. Vincent called her back. + +"Will you tell Rosy to bring me her Venetian necklace to the +drawing-room?" she said; "I want it for a few minutes." She did not +tell Beata why she wanted it. It was because she had had a letter that +morning from Mr. Furnivale asking her to tell him how many beads there +were on Rosy's necklace and their size, as he had found a shop where +there were two or three for sale, and he wanted to get one as nearly +as possible the same for Beata. + +Beata went slowly to the nursery. She would much rather have stayed in +the schoolroom, lonely and dull though it was. When she got to the +nursery she gave Rosy her mother's message, and asked her kindly if +she might bring her dolls so that they could play with them together. + +"I shan't get no work done," said Nelson crossly, "if there's going to +be such a litter about." + +"I'm going to take my necklace to mamma," said Rosy. "You may play +with my doll till I come back, Bee." + +She ran off, and Bee sat down quietly as far away from Nelson as she +could. Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door suddenly opened +and Rosy burst in with a very red face. + +"Bee, Nelson," she exclaimed, "my necklace is _gone_. It is +indeed. I've hunted _everywhere_. And somebody must have taken +it, for I always put it in the same place, in its own little box. You +know I do--don't I, Bee?" + +Bee seemed hardly able to answer. Her face looked quite pale with +distress. + +"Your necklace gone, Rosy," she repeated. Nelson said nothing. + +"Yes, _gone,_ I tell you," said Rosy. "And I believe it's stolen. +It couldn't go of itself, and I _never_ left it about. I haven't +had it on for a good while. You know that time I slept in your room, +Bee, while Fixie was ill, I got out of the way of wearing it. But I +always knew where it was, in its own little box in the far-back corner +of the drawer where I keep my best ribbons and jewelry." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I know. It was there the day I had it out to amuse +Fixie." + +Rosy turned sharply upon her. + +"Did you put it back that day, Bee?" she said, "I don't believe I've +looked at it since. Answer, _did_ you put it back?" + +"Yes," said Bee earnestly, "yes, indeed; _indeed_ I did. O Rosy, +don't get like that," she entreated, clasping her hands, for Rosy's +face was growing redder and redder, and her eyes were flashing. "O +Rosy, _don't_ get into a temper with me about it. I did, _did_ +put it back." + +But it is doubtful if Rosy would have listened to her. She was fast +working herself up to believe that Bee had lost the necklace the day +she had had it out for Pixie, and she was so distressed at the loss +that she was quite ready to get into a temper with _somebody_--when, +to both the children's surprise, Nelson's voice interrupted +what Rosy was going to say. + +"Miss Warwick," she said, with rather a mocking tone--she had made a +point of calling Bee "Miss Warwick" since the day Mrs. Vincent had +spoken of the little girl by that name--"Miss Warwick did put it back +that day, Miss Rosy dear," she said. "For I saw it late that evening +when I was putting your things away to help Martha as Master Fixie was +ill." She did not explain that she had made a point of looking for the +necklace in hopes of finding Bee had _not_ put it back, for you +may remember she had been cross and rude to Bee about finding her in +Rosy's room. + +"Well, then, where has it gone? Come with me, Bee, and look for it," +said Rosy, rather softening down,--"though I'm _sure_ I've looked +everywhere." + +"I don't think it's any use your taking Miss Warwick to look for it," +said Nelson, getting up and laying aside her work. "I'll go with you, +Miss Rosy, and if it's in your room I'll undertake to find it. And +just you stay quietly here, Miss Bee. Too many cooks spoil the broth." + +So Bee was left alone again, alone, and even more unhappy than before, +for she was _very_ sorry about Rosy's necklace, and besides, she +had a miserable feeling that if it was never found she would somehow +be blamed for its loss. A quarter of an hour passed, then half an +hour, what could Rosy and Nelson be doing all this time? The door +opened and Bee sprang up. + +"Have you found it, Rosy?" she cried eagerly. + +But it was not Rosy, though she was following behind. The first person +that came in was Mrs. Vincent. She looked grave and troubled. + +"Beata," she said, "you have heard about Rosy's necklace. Tell me all +about the last time you saw it." + +"It was when Rosy let Fixie have it to play with," began Bee, and she +told all she remembered. + +"And you are sure--_quite_ sure--you never have seen it since?" + +"_Quite_ sure," said Bee. "I never touch Rosy's things without +her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of cough. Bee turned round on her. "If you've +anything to say you'd better say it now, before Mrs. Vincent," said +Bee, in a tone that, coming from the gentle kindly little girl, +surprised every one. + +"Bee!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, "What do you mean? Nelson has said +_nothing_ about you." This was quite true. Nelson was too clever +to say anything right out. She had only hinted and looked wise about +the necklace to Rosy, giving her a feeling that Bee was more likely to +have touched it than any one else. + +Bee was going to speak, but Rosy's mother stopped her. "You have told +us all you know," she said. "I don't want to hear any more. But I am +surprised at you, Bee, for losing your temper about being simply asked +if you had seen the necklace. You might have forgotten at first if you +had had it again for Fixie, and you _might_ the second time have +forgotten to put it back. But there is nothing to be offended at, in +being asked about it." + +She spoke coldly, and Bee's heart swelled more and more, but she dared +not speak. + +"There is nothing to do," said Mrs. Vincent, "that I can see, except +to find out if Fixie could have taken it. I will write to Martha at +once and tell her to ask him, and to let us know by return of post." + +The letter was written and sent. No one waited for the answer more +anxiously than Beata. It came by return of post, as Mrs. Vincent had +said. But it brought only disappointment. "Master Fixie," Martha +wrote, "knew nothing of Miss Rosy's necklace." He could not remember +having had it to play with at all, and he seemed to get so worried +when she kept on asking about it, that Martha thought it better to say +no more, for it was plain he had nothing to tell. + +"It is very strange he cannot remember playing with it that +afternoon," said Mrs. Vincent. "He generally has such a good memory. +You are sure you _did_ give it to him to play with, Bee?" + +"We played with it together. I told him stories about each bead," the +little girl replied. And her voice trembled as if she were going to +burst into tears. + +"Then his illness since must have made him forget it," said Mrs. +Vincent. But that was all she said. She did not call Bee to her and +tell her not to feel unhappy about it--that she knew she could trust +every word she said, as she once would have done. But she did give +very strict orders that nothing more was to be said about the +necklace, for though Nelson had not dared to hint anything unkind +about Bee to Mrs. Vincent herself, yet Rosy's mother felt sure that +Nelson blamed Bee for the loss, and wished others to do so, and she +was afraid of what might be said in the nursery if the subject was +still spoken about. + +So nothing unkind was actually said to Beata, but Rosy's cold manner +and careless looks were hard to bear. + +And the days were drawing near for the long looked forward to fete at +Summerlands. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT. + + + "She ran with wild speed, she rushed in at the door, + She gazed in her terror around." + --SOUTHEY. + +But Beata could not look forward to it now. The pleasure seemed to +have gone out of everything. + +"Nobody loves me now, and nobody trusts me," she said sadly to +herself. "And I don't know why it is. I can't think of anything I have +done to change them all." + +Her letter to her mother was already written and sent before the +answer came from Martha. Bee had hurried it a little at the end +because she wanted to have an excuse to herself for not telling her +mother how unhappy she was about the loss of the necklace. + +"If an answer comes from Martha that Fixie had taken it away or put it +somewhere, it will be all right again and I shall be quite happy, and +then it would have been a pity to write unhappily to poor mother, so +far away," she said to herself. And when Martha's letter came and all +was not right again, she felt glad that she could not write for +another fortnight, and that perhaps by that time she would know better +what to say, or that "somehow" things would have grown happier again. +For she had promised, "faithfully" promised her mother to tell her +truly all that happened, and that if by any chance she was unhappy +about anything that she could not speak easily about to Mrs. +Vincent,--though Bee's mother had little thought such a thing +likely,--she would still write all about it to her own mother. + +But a week had already passed since that letter was sent. It was +growing time to begin to think about another. And no "somehow" had +come to put things right again. Bee sat at the schoolroom window one +day after Miss Pink had left, looking out on to the garden, where the +borders were bright with the early summer flowers, and everything +seemed sunny and happy. + +"I wish I was happy too," thought Bee. And she gently stroked +Manchon's soft coat, and wondered why the birds outside and the cat +inside seemed to have all they wanted, when a little girl like her +felt so sad and lonely. Manchon had grown fond of Bee. She was gentle +and quiet, and that was what he liked, for he was no longer so young +as he had been. And Rosy's pullings and pushings, when she was not in +a good humour and fancied he was in her way, tried his nerves very +much. + +"Manchon," said Bee softly, "you look very wise. Why can't you tell me +where Rosy's necklace is?" + +Manchon blinked his eyes and purred. But, alas, that was all he could +do. + +Just then the door opened and Rosy came in. She was dressed for going +out. She had her best hat and dress on, and she looked very well +pleased with herself. + +"I'm going out a drive with auntie," she said. "And mamma says you're +to be ready to go a walk with her in half an hour." + +She was leaving the room, when a sudden feeling made Bee call her +back. + +"Rosy," she said, "do stay a minute. Rosy, I am so unhappy. I've been +thinking if I can't write a letter to ask mother to take me away from +here. I would, only it would make her so unhappy." + +Rosy looked a little startled. + +"Why would you do that?" she said. "I'm sure I've not done anything to +you." + +"But you don't love me any more," said Bee. "You began to leave off +loving me when your aunt and Nelson came,--I know you did,--and then +since the necklace was lost it's been worse. What can I do, Rosy, what +can I say?" + +"You might own that you've lost it--at least that you forgot to put it +back," said Rosy. + +"But I _did_ put it back. Even Nelson says that," said Bee. "I +can't say I didn't when I know I did," she added piteously. + +"But Nelson thinks you took it another time, and forgot to put it +back. And I think so too," said Rosy. To do her justice, she never, +like Nelson, thought that Bee had taken the necklace on purpose. She +did not even understand that Nelson thought so. + +"Rosy," said Bee very earnestly, "I did _not_ take it another +time. I have never seen it since that afternoon when Fixie had had it +and I put it back. Rosy, _don't_ you believe me?" + +Rosy gave herself an impatient shake. + +"I don't know," she said. "You might have forgotten. Anyway it was you +that had it last, and I wish I'd never given you leave to have it; I'm +sure it wouldn't have been lost." + +Bee turned away and burst into tears. + +"I _will_ write to mamma and ask her to take me away," she said. + +Again Rosy looked startled. + +"If you do that," she said, "it will be very unkind to _my_ +mamma. Yours will think we have all been unkind to you, and then +she'll write letters to my mamma that will vex her very much. And I'm +sure _mamma's_ never been unkind to you. I don't mind if you say +_I'm_ unkind; perhaps I am, because I'm very vexed about my +necklace. I shall get naughty now it's lost--I know I shall," and so +saying, Rosy ran off. + +Bee left off crying. It was true what Rosy had said. It _would_ +make Mrs. Vincent unhappy and cause great trouble if she asked her +mother to take her away. A new and braver spirit woke in the little +girl. + +"I won't be unhappy any more," she resolved. "I know I didn't touch +the necklace, and so I needn't be unhappy. And then I needn't write +anything to trouble mother, for if I get happy again it will be all +right." + +Her eyes were still rather red, but her face was brighter than it had +been for some time when she came into the drawing-room, ready dressed +for her walk. + +"Is that you, Bee dear?" said Mrs. Vincent kindly. She too was ready +dressed, but she was just finishing the address on a letter. "Why, you +are looking quite bright again, my child!" she went on when she looked +up at the little figure waiting patiently beside her. + +"I'm very glad to go out with you," said Bee simply. + +"And I'm very glad to have you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"Aunt Lillias," said Bee, her voice trembling a little, "may I ask you +one thing? _You_ don't think I touched Rosy's necklace?" + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"_Certainly_ not, dear," she said. "I did at first think you +might have forgotten to put it back that day. But after your telling +me so distinctly that you _had_ put it back, I felt quite +satisfied that you had done so." + +"But," said Bee, and then she hesitated. + +"But what?" said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. + +"I don't think--I _didn't_ think," Bee went on, gaining courage, +"that you had been quite the same to me since then." + +"And you have been fancying all kinds of reasons for it, I suppose!" +said Mrs. Vincent. "Well, Bee, the only thing I have been not quite +pleased with you for _has_ been your looking so unhappy. I was +surprised at your seeming so hurt and vexed at my asking you about the +necklace, and since then you have looked so miserable that I had begun +seriously to think it might be better for you not to stay with us. If +Rosy or any one else has disobeyed me, and gone on talking about the +necklace, it is very wrong, but even then I wonder at your allowing +foolish words to make you so unhappy. _Has_ any one spoken so as +to hurt you?" + +"No," said Bee, "not exactly, but--" + +"But you have seen that there were unkind thoughts about you. Well, I +am very sorry for it, but at present I can do no more. You are old +enough and sensible enough to see that several things have not been as +I like or wish lately. But it is often so in this world. I was very +sorry for Martha to have to go away, but it could not be helped, Now, +Bee, think it over. Would you rather go away, for a time any way, or +will you bravely determine not to mind what you know you don't +deserve, knowing that _I_ trust you fully?" + +"Yes," said Bee at once, "I will not mind it any more. And Rosy +perhaps," here her voice faltered, "Rosy perhaps will like me better +if I don't seem so dull." + +Mrs. Vincent looked grave when Bee spoke of Rosy, so grave that Bee +almost wished she had not said it. + +"It is very hard," she heard Rosy's mother say, as if speaking to +herself, "just when I thought I had gained a better influence over +her. _Very_ hard." + +Bee threw her arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck. + +"Dear auntie," she said, "_don't_ be unhappy about Rosy. I will +be patient, and I know it will come right again, and I won't be +unhappy any more." + +Mrs. Vincent kissed her. + +"Yes, dear Bee," she said, "we must both be patient and hopeful." + +And then they went out, and during the walk Beata noticed that Mrs. +Vincent talked about other things--old times in India that Bee could +remember, and plans for the future when her father and mother should +come home again to stay. Only just as they were entering the house on +their return, Bee could not help saying, + +"Aunt Lillias, I _wonder_ if the necklace will never be found." + +"So do I," said Mrs. Vincent. "I really cannot understand where it can +have gone. We have searched so thoroughly that even if Fixie +_had_ put it somewhere we would have found it. And, if possibly, +he had taken it away with him by mistake, Martha would have seen it." + +But that was all that was said. + +A day or two later Rosy came flying into the schoolroom in great +excitement. Miss Pinkerton was there at the time, for it was the +middle of morning lessons, and she had sent Rosy upstairs to fetch a +book she had left in the nursery by mistake. "Miss Pink, Bee!" she +continued, "our dresses have come from London. I'm sure it must be +them. Just as I passed the backstair door I heard James calling to +somebody about a case that was to be taken upstairs, and I peeped over +the banisters, and there was a large white wood box, and I saw the +carter's man standing waiting to be paid. Do let me go and ask about +them, Miss Pink." + +"No, Rosy, not just now," said Miss Pink. She spoke more firmly than +she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was +beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it +to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down +to her lessons. + +"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you +had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem +better than any one else." + +"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the +dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this +afternoon." + +Rosy looked at her with surprise. Lately Beata had never answered her +cross speeches like this, but had looked either ready to cry, or had +told her she was very unkind or very naughty, which had not mended +matters! + +Rosy was right. The white wood box did contain the dresses, and though +Mrs. Vincent was busy that day, as she and Aunt Edith were going a +long drive to spend the afternoon and evening with friends at some +distance, she understood the little girls' eagerness to see them, and +had the box undone and the costumes fully exhibited to please them. +They were certainly very pretty, for though the material they were +made of was only cotton, they had been copied exactly from an old +picture Lady Esther had sent on purpose. The only difference between +them was that one of the quilted under skirts was sky blue to suit +Rosy's bright complexion and fair hair, and the other was a very +pretty shade of rose colour, which, went better with Bee's dark hair +and paler face. + +The children stood entranced, admiring them. + +"Now, dears, I must put them away," said Mrs. Vincent. "It is really +time for me to get ready." + +"O mamma!" exclaimed Rosy, "do leave them out for us to try on. I can +tell Nelson to take them to my room." + +"No, Rosy," said her mother decidedly. "You must wait to try them on +till to-morrow. I want to see them on myself. Besides, they are very +delicate in colour, and would be easily soiled. You must be satisfied +with what you have seen of them for to-day. Now run and get ready. It +is already half-past three." + +For it had been arranged that Rosy and Bee, with Nelson to take care +of them, were to drive part of the way with Mrs. Vincent and her +sister-in-law, and to walk back, as it was a very pretty country road. + +Rosy went off to get ready, shaking herself in the way she often did +when she was vexed; and while she was dressing she recounted her +grievances to Nelson. + +"Never mind, Miss Rosy," said that foolish person, "we'll perhaps have +a quiet look at your dress this evening when we're all alone. There's +no need to say anything about it to Miss Bee." + +"But mamma said we were not to try them on till to-morrow," said Rosy. + +"No, not to try them on by yourselves, very likely you would get them +soiled. But we'll see." + +It was pretty late when the children came home. They had gone rather +farther than Mrs. Vincent had intended, and coming home they had made +the way longer by passing through a wood which had tempted them at the +side of the road. They were a little tired and very hungry, and till +they had had their tea Rosy was too hungry to think of anything else. +But tea over, Bee sat down to amuse herself with a book till bed-time, +and Rosy wandered about, not inclined to read, or, indeed, to do +anything. Suddenly the thought of the fancy dresses returned to her +mind. She ran out of the nursery, and made her way to her aunt's room, +where Nelson was generally to be found. She was not there, however. +Rosy ran down the passages at that part of the house where the +servants' rooms were, to look for her, though she knew that her mother +did not like her to do so. + +"Nelson, Nelson," she cried. + +Nelson's head was poked out of her room. + +"What is it, Miss Rosy? It's not your bed-time yet." + +"No, but I want to look at my dress again. You promised I should." + +"Well, just wait five minutes. I'm just finishing a letter that one of +the men's going to post for me. I'll come to your room, Miss Rosy, and +bring a light. It's getting too dark to see." + +"Be quick then," said Rosy, imperiously. + +She went back to her room, but soon got tired of waiting there. She +did not want to go to the nursery, for Bee was there, and would begin +asking her what she was doing. + +"I'll go to mamma's room," she said to herself, "and just look about +to see where she has put the frocks. I'm _almost_ sure she'll +have hung them up in her little wardrobe, where she keeps new things +often." + +No sooner said than done. Off ran Rosy to her mother's room. It was +getting dusk, dark almost, any way too dark to see clearly. Rosy +fumbled about on the mantelpiece till she found the match-box, and +though she was generally too frightened of burning her fingers to +strike a light herself, this time she managed to do so. There were +candles on the dressing-table, and when she had lighted them she +proceeded to search. It was not difficult to find what she wanted. The +costumes were hanging up in the little wardrobe, as she expected, but +too high for her to reach easily. Rosy went to the door, and a little +way down the passage, and called Nelson. But no one answered, and it +was a good way off to Nelson's room. + +"Nasty, selfish thing," said Rosy; "she's just going on writing to +tease me." + +But she was too impatient, to go back to her own room and wait there. +With the help of a chair she got down the frocks. Bee's came first, of +course, because it wasn't wanted--Rosy flung it across the back of a +chair, and proceeded to examine her own more closely than she had been +able to do before. It _was_ pretty! And so complete--there was +even the little white mob-cap with blue ribbons, and a pair of blue +shoes with high, though not very high, heels! These last she found +lying on the shelf, above the hanging part of the wardrobe. + +"It is _too_ pretty," said Rosy. "I _must_ try it on." + +And, quick as thought, she set to work--and nobody could be quicker or +cleverer than Rosy when she chose--taking off the dress she had on, +and rapidly attiring herself in the lovely costume. It all seemed to +fit beautifully,--true, the pale blue shoes looked rather odd beside +the sailor-blue stockings she was wearing, and she wondered what kind +of stockings her mother intended her to wear at Summerlands--and she +could not get the little lace kerchief arranged quite to her taste; +but the cap went on charmingly, and so did the long mittens, which +were beside the shoes. + +"There must be stockings too," thought Rosy, "for there seems to be +everything else; perhaps they are farther back in the shelf." + +[Illustration: BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH +THEM.] + +She climbed up on the chair again, but she could not see farther into +the shelf, so she got down and fetched one of the candles. Then up +again--yes--there were two little balls, a pink and a blue, farther +back-by stretching a good deal she thought she could reach them. Only +the candle was in the way, as she was holding it in one hand. She +stooped and set it down on the edge of the chair, and reached up +again, and had just managed to touch the little balls she could no +longer see, when--what was the matter? What was that rush of hot air +up her left leg and side? She looked down, and, in her fright, +fell--chair, Rosy, and candle, in a heap on the floor--for she had +seen that her skirts were on fire! and, as she fell, she uttered a +long piercing scream. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +GOOD OUT OF EVIL. + + + "Sweet are the uses of adversity."--SHAKESPEARE. + +A scream that would probably have reached the nursery, which was not +very far from Mrs. Vincent's room, had there been any one there to +hear it! But as it was, the person who had been there--little Bee--was +much nearer than the nursery at the time of Rosy's accident. The house +was very silent that evening, and Nelson had not thought of bringing a +light; so when it got too dark to read, even with the book pressed +close against the window-panes, Bee grew rather tired of waiting there +by herself, with nothing to do. + +"I wonder where Rosy is," she thought, opening the door, and looking +out along the dusky passages. + +And just then she heard Rosy's voice, at some little distance, +calling, "Nelson, Nelson." + +"If she is with Nelson I won't go," thought Bee. "I'll wait till she +comes back;" and she came into the empty nursery again, and wished +Martha was home. + +"She always makes the nursery so comfortable," thought Bee. Then it +struck her that perhaps it was not very kind of her not to go and see +what Rosy wanted--she had not heard any reply to Rosy's call for +Nelson. + +"Her voice sounded as if she was in Aunt Lillias's room," she said to +herself. "What can she be wanting? perhaps I'd better go and see." + +And she set off down the passage. The lamps were not yet lighted; +perhaps the servants were less careful than usual, knowing that the +ladies would not be home till late, but Bee knew her way about the +house quite well. She was close to the door of Mrs. Vincent's room, +and had already noticed that it stood slightly ajar, for a light was +streaming out, when--she stood for a second half-stupefied with +terror--what was it?--what could be the matter?--as Rosy's fearful +scream reached her ears. Half a second, and she had rushed into the +room--there lay a confused heap on the floor, for Rosy, in her fall, +had pulled over the chair; but the first glance showed Bee what was +wrong--Rosy was on fire! + +It was a good thing she had fallen, otherwise, in her wild fright, she +would probably have made things worse by rushing about; as it was, she +had not had time to get up before Bee was beside her, smothering her +down with some great heavy thing, and calling to her to keep still, to +"squeeze herself down," so as to put out the flames. The "great thing" +was the blankets and counterpane of the bed, which somehow Bee, small +as she was, had managed to tear off. And, frightened as Rosy was, the +danger was not, after all, so very great, for the quilted under skirt +was pretty thick, and her fall had already partly crushed down the +fire. It was all over more quickly than it has taken me to tell it, +and Rosy at last, half choked with the heavy blankets, and half soaked +with the water which Bee had poured over her to make sure, struggled +to her feet, safe and uninjured, only the pretty dress hopelessly +spoilt! + +And when all the danger was past, and there was nothing more to do, +Nelson appeared at the door, and rushed at her darling Miss Rosy, +screaming and crying, while Beata stood by, her handkerchief wrapped +round one of her hands, and nobody paying any attention to her. +Nelson's screams soon brought the other servants; among them, they got +the room cleared of the traces of the accident, and Rosy undressed and +put to bed. She was crying from the fright, but she had got no injury +at all; her tears, however, flowed on when she thought of what her +mother would have to be told, and Bee found it difficult to comfort +her. + +"You saved me, Bee, dear Bee," she said, clinging to her. "And it was +because I disobeyed mamma, and I might have been burnt to death. O +Bee, just think of it!" and she would not let Beata leave her. + +It was like this that Mrs. Vincent found them on her return late in +the evening. You can fancy how miserable it was for her to be met with +such a story, and to know that it was all Rosy's own fault. But it was +not all miserable, for never had she known her little girl so +completely sorry and ashamed, and so truly grateful to any one as she +was now feeling to Beata. + +And even Aunt Edith's prejudice seemed to have melted away, for she +kissed Bee as she said goodnight, and called her a brave, good child. + +So it was with a thankful little heart that Beata went to bed. Her +hand was sore--it had got badly scorched in pressing down the +blankets--but she did not think it bad enough to say anything about it +except to the cook, who was a kind old woman, and wrapped it up in +cotton wool, after well dredging it with flour, and making her promise +that if it hurt her in the night she would call her. + +It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the +morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was +still sleeping--the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told +her--and she was not to be wakened. + +"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant +said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it. +It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she +went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" + +"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. +What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" + +"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." + +"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head +worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed. + +"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe. + +"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm +up." + +It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs. +Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up, +none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for +poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache, + +"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs. +Vincent asked. + +"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser +looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and--and--you had had +so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added, +affectionately. + +"Yes, dear; but, when I think how much worse they might have been, I +dare not complain," Rosy's mother replied. + +Bee did not go to church that day. Her headache was not very bad, but +it did not seem to get well, and it was still rather bad when she woke +the next morning. + +And that next morning brought back to all their minds what, for the +moment, had been almost forgotten--that it was within three days of +the fete at Summerlands!--for there came a note from Lady Esther, +giving some particulars about the hour she hoped they would all come, +and rejoicing in the promise of fine weather for the children's treat. + +Rosy's mother read the note aloud. Then she looked at Aunt Edith, and +looked at the little girls. They were all together when the letter +came. + +"What is to be done?" said Miss Vincent; "I had really forgotten the +fête was to be on Wednesday. Is it impossible to have a new dress made +in time?" + +"Quite impossible," said Mrs. Vincent, "Rosy must cheerfully, or at +least patiently, bear what she has brought on herself, and be, as I am +sure she is, very thankful that it was no worse." + +Rosy glanced up quickly. She seemed as if she were going to say +something, and the look in her face was quite gentle. + +"I--I--I _will_ try to be good, mamma," she broke out at last. +"And I know I might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for +Bee. And--and--I hope Bee will enjoy the fête." + +But that was all she could manage. She hurried over the last words; +then, bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room. + +"Poor darling!" said Aunt Edith. "Lillias, are you sure we can do +nothing? Couldn't one of her white dresses be done up somehow?" + +"No," said Mrs. Vincent. "It would only draw attention to her if she +was to go dressed differently from the others, and I should not wish +that. Besides--oh no--it is much better not." + +She had hardly said the words when she felt something gently pulling +her, and, looking down, there was Bee beside her, trying to whisper +something. + +"Auntie," she said, "would you, oh! _would_ you let Rosy go +instead of me, wearing my dress? It would fit her almost as well as +her own. And, do you know, I _wouldn't_ care to go alone. It +wouldn't be _any_ happiness to me, and it would be such happiness +to know that Rosy could go. And I'm afraid I've got a little cold or +something, for I've still got a headache, and I'm not sure that it +will be better by Wednesday." + +She looked up entreatingly in Mrs. Vincent's face, and then Rosy's +mother noticed how pale and ill she seemed. + +"My dear little Bee," she said, "you must try to be better by +Wednesday. And, you know, dear, though we are all very sorry for Rosy, +it is only what she has brought on herself. I hope she has learnt a +lesson--more than one lesson--but, if she were to have the pleasure of +going to Summerlands, she might not remember it so well." + +Beata said no more--she could not oppose Rosy's mother--but she shook +her head a little sadly. + +"I don't think Rosy's like that, Aunt Lillias," she said; "I don't +think it would make her forget." + +Beata's headache was not better the next day; and, as the day went on, +it grew so much worse that Mrs. Vincent at last sent for the doctor. +He said that she was ill, much in the same way that Fixie had been. +Not that it was anything she could have caught from him--it was not +that kind of illness at all--but it was the first spring either of +them had been in England, and he thought that very likely the change +of climate had caused it with them both. He was not, he said, anxious +about Bee, but still he looked a little grave. She was not strong, and +she should not be overworked with lessons, or have anything to trouble +or distress her. + +"She has not been overworked," Mrs. Vincent said. + +"And she seems very sweet-tempered and gentle. A happy disposition, I +should think," said the doctor, as he hastened away. + +His words made Mrs. Vincent feel rather sad. It was true--Bee had a +happy disposition--she had never, till lately, seen her anything but +bright and cheery. + +"My poor little Bee," she thought, "I was hard upon her. I did not +quite understand her. In my anxiety about Rosy when her aunt and +Nelson came I fear I forgot Bee. But I do trust all that is over, and +that Rosy has truly learnt a lesson. And we must all join to make +little Bee happy again." + +She returned to Bee's room. The child was sitting up in bed, her eyes +sparkling in her white face--she was very eager about something. + +"Auntie," she said, "you see I cannot possibly go to-morrow. And you +must go, for poor Lady Esther is counting on you to help her. Auntie, +you _will_ forgive poor Rosy now _quite_, won't you, and let +her go in my dress?" + +The pleading eyes, the white face, the little hot hands laid coaxingly +on hers--it would not have been easy to refuse! Besides, the doctor +had said she was neither to be excited nor distressed. + +The tears were in Mrs. Vincent's eyes as she bent down to kiss the +little girl, but she did not let her see them. + +"I will speak to Rosy, dear," she said. "I will tell her how much you +want her to go in your place; and I think perhaps you are right--I +don't think it will make her forget." + +"_Thank_ you, dear auntie," said Bee, as fervently as if Mrs. +Vincent had promised her the most delightful treat in the world. + +That afternoon Bee fell asleep, and slept quietly and peacefully for +some time. When she woke she felt better, and she lay still, thinking +it was nice and comfortable to be in bed when one felt tired, as she +had always done lately; then her eyes wandered round her little room, +and she thought how neat and pretty it looked, how pleased her mother +would be to see how nice she had everything; and, just as she was +thinking this, her glance fell on a little table beside her bed, which +had been placed there with a little lemonade and a few grapes. There +was something there that had not been on the table before she went to +sleep. In a delicate little glass, thin and clear as a soap-bubble, +was the most lovely rose Bee had ever seen--rich, soft, _rose_ +colour, glowing almost crimson in the centre, and melting into a +somewhat paler shade at the edge. + +[Illustration: 'IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY.'] + +"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Bee, "I wonder who put you there. I would +like to scent you"--Bee, like other children I know, always talked of +"scenting" flowers; she said "smell" was not a pretty enough word for +such pretty things--"but I am afraid of knocking over that lovely +glass. It must be one of Aunt Lillias's that she has lent." + +A little soft laugh came from the side of her bed, and, leaning over, +Bee caught sight of a tangle of bright hair. It was Rosy. She had been +watching there for Bee to wake. Up she jumped, and, carefully lifting +the glass, held it close to Bee. + +"It isn't mother's glass," she said; "it's your own. It _was_ +mother's, but I've bought it for you. Mother let me, because I +_did_ so want to do something to please you; and she let me +choose the beautifullest rose for you, Bee. I am so glad you like it; +It's a rose from Rosy. I've been sitting by you such a time. And +though I'm so pleased you like the rose, I _have_ been crying a +little, Bee, truly, because you are so good, and about my going +to-morrow." + +"You _are_ going?" said Bee, anxiously. In Rosy's changed way of +thinking she became suddenly afraid that she might not wish to go. + +"Yes," said Rosy, rather gravely, "I am going. Mother is quite pleased +for me to go, to please you. In one way I would rather not go, for I +know I don't deserve it; and I can't help thinking you wouldn't have +been ill if I hadn't done that, and made you have a fright. And it +seems such a shame for me to wear _your_ dress, when you've been +quite good and _deserve_ the pleasure, and just when I've got to +see how kind you are, and we'd have been so happy to go together. And +then I've a feeling, Bee, that I _shall_ enjoy it when I get +there, and perhaps I shall forget a little about you, and it will be +so horrid of me, if I do--and that makes me, wish I wasn't going." + +"But I want you to enjoy it," said Bee, simply, in her little weak +voice. "It wouldn't be nice of me to want you to go if I thought you +wouldn't enjoy it. And it's nice of you to tell me how you feel. But I +would like you to think of me _this_ way--every time you are +having a very nice dance, or that any one says you look so nice, just +think, "I wish Bee could see me," or "How nice it will be to tell Bee +about it," and, that way, the more you enjoy it the more you'll think +of me." + +"Yes," said Rosy, "that's putting it a very nice way; or, Bee, if +there are very nice things to eat, I might think of you another way. I +might, perhaps, bring you back some nice biscuits or bonbons--any kind +that wouldn't squash in my pocket, you know. I might ask mamma to ask +Lady Esther." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I'm not very hungry, but just a few very nice, +rather dry ones, you know, I would like." "I could keep them for Fixie +when he comes back," was the thought in her mind. + +She had not heard anything about when Fixie and Martha were coming +back, but she was to have a pleasant surprise the next day. It was a +little lonely; for, though Rosy meant to be very, very kind, she was +rather too much of a chatterbox not to tire Bee after a while. + +"Mamma said I wasn't to stay very long," she said; "but don't you mind +being alone so much?" + +"No, I don't think so," said Bee, "and, you know, Phoebe is in the +next room if I want her." + +"I know what you'd like," said Rosy, and off she flew. In two minutes +she was back again with something in her arms. It was Manchon! She +laid him gently down at the foot of Bee's bed. "He's so 'squisitely +clean, you know," she went on, "and I know you're fond of him." + +"_Very_" said Bee, with great satisfaction. + +"I like him better than I did," said Rosy, "but still I think he's a +sort of a fairy. Why, it shows he is, for now that I'm so good--I mean +now that I'm going to be good always--he seems to like me ever so much +better. He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said +'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon,' he let me take him as good +as good." + +But that evening brought still better company for Bee. + +She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the +morning who do you think was standing beside her? Dear little Fixie, +his white face ever so much rounder and rosier, and kind Martha, both +smiling with pleasure at seeing her again, though feeling sorry, too, +that she was ill. + +"Zou'll soon be better, Bee, and Fixie will be so good to you, and +then p'raps we'll go again to that nice place where we've been, for +you to get kite well." + +So Bee, after all, did not feel at all dull or lonely when Rosy came +in to say good-bye, in Bee's pretty dress. And Mrs. Vincent, and even +Miss Vincent, kissed her so kindly! Even Nelson, I forgot to say, had +put her head in at the door to ask how she was; and when Bee answered +her nicely, as she always did, she came in for a moment to tell her +how sorry she was Bee could not go to the fete. "For I must say, Miss +Bee," she added, "I must say as I think you've acted very pretty, very +pretty, indeed, about lending your dress to dear Miss Rosy, bless her." + +"And, if there's anything I can do for you--" Here Bee's breakfast +coming in interrupted her, which Bee, on the whole, was not sorry for. + +She did not see Rosy that evening, for it was late when they came +home, and she was already asleep. But the next morning Bee woke much +better, and quite able to listen to Rosy's account of it all. She had +enjoyed it very much--of course not _as_ much as if Bee had been +there too, she said; but Lady Esther had thought it so sweet of Bee to +beg for Rosy to go, and she had sent her the loveliest little basket +of bonbons, tied up with pink ribbons, that ever was seen, and still +better, she had told Rosy that she had serious thoughts of having a +large Christmas-tree party next winter, at which all the children +should be dressed out of the fairy tales. + +"Wouldn't it be lovely?" said Rosy. "We were thinking perhaps you +would be Red Riding Hood, and I the white cat. But we can look over +all the fairy tales and think about it when you're better, can't we, +Bee?" + +Beata got better much more quickly than Fixie had done. The first day +she was well enough to be up she begged leave to write two little +letters, one to her mother and one to Colin, who had been very kind; +for while she was ill he had written twice to her, which for a +schoolboy was a great deal, I think. His letters were meant to be very +amusing; but, as they were full of cricket and football, Bee did not +find them very easy to understand. She was sitting at the +nursery-table, thinking what she could say to show Colin she liked to +hear about his games, even though the names puzzled her a little, when +Fixie came and stood by her, looking rather melancholy. + +"What's the matter?" she said. + +"Zou's writing such a long time," said Fixie, "and Rosy's still at her +lessons. I zought when zou was better zou'd play wif me." + +"I can't play much," said Bee, "for I've still got a funny buzzy +feeling in my head, and I'm rather tired." + +"Yes, I know," said Fixie, with great sympathy, "mine head was like +fousands of trains when I was ill. We won't play, Bee, we'll only +talk." + +"Well, I'll just finish my letter," said Bee. "I'll just tell Colin he +must tell me all about innings and outings, and all that, when he +comes home. Yes--that'll do. "Your affectionate--t-i-o-n-a-t-e--Bee." +Now I'll talk to you, Fixie. What a pity we haven't got Rosy's beads +to tell stories about!" + +A queer look came into Fixie's face. + +"Rosy's beads," he said. + +"Yes, Rosy's necklace that was lost. And you didn't know where it was +gone when Martha asked you--when your mother wrote a letter about it." + +As she spoke, she drew their two little chairs to what had always been +their favourite corner, near a window, which was low enough for them +to look out into the pretty garden. + +"Don't sit there," said Fixie, "I don't like there." + +"Why not? Don't you remember we were sitting here the last afternoon +we were in the nursery--before you went away. You liked it then, when +I told you stories about the beads, before they were lost." + +"Before _zem_ was lost," said Fixie, his face again taking the +troubled, puzzled look; "I didn't know it was _zem_--I mean it +was somefin else of Rosy's that was lost--lace for her neck, that I'd +_never_ seen." + +Bee's heart began to beat faster with a strange hope. She had seen +Fixie's face looking troubled, and she remembered Martha saying how +her questioning about the necklace had upset him, and it seemed almost +cruel to go on talking about it. But a feeling had come over her that +there was something to find out, and now it grew stronger and +stronger. + +"Lace for Rosy's neck," she repeated, "no, Fixie, you must be +mistaken. Lace for her neck--" and then a sudden idea struck her,--"can +you mean a _necklace?_ Don't you know that a necklace means +beads?" + +Fixie stared at her for a moment, growing very red. Then the redness +finished up, like a thundercloud breaking into rain, by his bursting +into tears, and hiding his face in Bee's lap. + +"I didn't know, I didn't know," he cried, "I thought it was some lace +that Martha meant. I didn't mean to tell a' untrue, Bee. I didn't like +Martha asking me, 'cos it made me think of the beads I'd lost, and I +thought p'raps I'd get them up again when I came home, but I can't. +I've poked and poked, and I think the mouses have eatened zem." + +By degrees Bee found out what the poor little fellow meant. The +morning after the afternoon when Bee and he had had the necklace, and +Bee had put it safely back, he had, unknown to any one, fetched it +again for himself, and sat playing with it by the nursery-window, in +the corner where the hole in the floor was. Out of idleness, he had +amused himself by holding the string of beads at one end, and dropping +them down the mysterious hole, "like fishing," he said, till, +unluckily, he had dropped them in altogether; and there, no doubt, +they were still lying! He was frightened at what he had done, but he +meant to tell Bee, and ask her advice. But that very afternoon the +doctor came, and he was separated from the other children; and, while +he was ill, he seemed to have forgotten about it. When Martha +questioned him at the seaside, he had no idea she was speaking of the +beads; but he did not like her questions, because they made him +remember what he _had_ lost. And then he thought he would try to +get the beads out of the hole by poking with a stick when he came +home; but he had found he could not manage it, and then he had taken a +dislike to that part of the room. + +All this was told with many sobs and tears, but Bee soothed him as +well as she could; and when his mother soon after came to the nursery +and heard the story, she was very kind indeed, and made him see how +even little wrong-doings, like taking the beads to play with without +leave, always bring unhappiness; and still more, how wise and right it +is for children to tell at once when they have done wrong, instead of +trying to put the wrong right themselves. That was all she said, +except that, as she kissed her poor little boy, she told him to tell +no one else about it, except Martha, and that she would see what could +be done. + +Bee and Fixie said no more about it; but on that account, I daresay, +like the famous parrot, "they thought the more." And once or twice +that afternoon, Fixie _could_ not help whispering to Bee, +"_Do_ you fink mamma's going to get the beads hooked out?" or, "I +hope they won't hurt the mouses that lives down in the hole. _Do_ +you fink the mouses has eaten it, p'raps?" + +Beata was sent early to bed, as she was not yet, of course, counted as +quite well; and both she and Fixie slept very soundly--whether they +dreamt of Rosy's beads or not I cannot tell. + +But the next morning Bee felt so much better that she begged to get up +quite early. + +"Not till after you've had your breakfast, Miss Bee," said Martha. +"But Mrs. Vincent says you may get up as soon as you like after that, +and then you and Miss Rosy and Master Fixie are all to go to her room. +She has something to show you." + +Bee and Fixie looked at each other. They felt sure _they_ knew +what it was! But Rosy, who had also come to Bee's room to see how she +was, looked very mystified. + +"I wonder what it can be," she said. "Can it be a parcel come for us? +And oh, Martha, by-the-bye, what was that knocking in the nursery last +night after we were in bed? I heard Robert's voice, I'm sure. What was +he doing?" + +"He came up to nail down something that was loose," said Martha, +quietly; but that was all she would say. + +They all three marched off to Mrs. Vincent's room as soon as Beata was +up and dressed. She was waiting for them. + +"I am so glad you are so much better this morning, Bee," she said, as +she kissed them all; "and now" she went on, "look here, I have a +surprise for you all." She lifted a handkerchief which she had laid +over something on a little table; and the three children, as they +pressed forward, could hardly believe their eyes. For there lay Rosy's +necklace, as bright and pretty as ever, and there beside it lay +another, just like it at the first glance, though, when it was closely +examined, one could see that the patterns on the beads were different; +but any way it was just as pretty. + +"Two," exclaimed Fixie, "_two_ lace-beads, what _is_ the +name? Has the mouses made a new one for Bee, dear Bee?" + +"Yes, for dear Bee," said his mother, smiling, "it is for Bee, though +it didn't come from the mouses;" and then she explained to them how +"Mr. Furniture" had sent the second necklace for Bee, but that she had +thought it better to keep it a while in hopes of Rosy's being found, +as she knew that Bee's pleasure in the pretty beads would not have +been half so great if Rosy were without hers. + +How happy they all looked! + +"What lotses of fairy stories we can make now!" said Fixie--"one for +every bead-lace, Bee!" + +"And, mamma," said Rosy, "I'll keep on being very good now. I daresay +I'll be dreadfully good soon; and Bee will be always good too, now, +because you know we've got our talismans." + +Mrs. Vincent smiled, but she looked a little grave. + +"What is it, mamma?" said Rosy. "Should I say talis_men_, not +talismans?" + +Her mother smiled more this time. + +"No, it wasn't that. 'Talismans' is quite right. I was only thinking +that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your +head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any +little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your +own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can +really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes +from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't +you, Rosy?" + +Rosy got a little red, and looked rather grave. + +"I _nearly_ always remember to say my prayers," she answered. + +"Well, let the 'talisman' help you to remember, if ever you are +inclined to forget. And it isn't _only_ at getting-up time and +going-to-bed time that one may _pray_, as I have often told you, +dear children. I really think, Rosy," she went on more lightly, "that +it would be nice for you and Bee to wear your necklaces always. I +shall like to see them, and I believe it would be almost impossible to +spoil or break them." + +"Only for my fairy stories," said Fixie, "I should have to walk all +round Bee and Rosy to see the beads. You will let them take them off, +_sometimes_, won't you, mamma?" + +"Yes, my little man, provided you promise not to send them visits down +the 'mouses' holes,'" said his mother, laughing. + +This is all I can tell you for the present about Rosy and her brothers +and little Bee. There is more to tell, as you can easily fancy, for, +of course, Rosy did not grow "quite good" all of a sudden, though +there certainly was a great difference to be seen in her from the time +of her narrow escape--nor was Beata, in spite of _her_ talisman, +without faults and failings. Nor was either of them without sorrows +and disappointments and difficulties in their lives, bright and happy +though they were. If you have been pleased with what I have told you, +you must let me know, and I shall try to tell you some more. + +And again, dear children,--little friends, whom I love so much, though +I may never have seen your faces, and though you only know me as +somebody who is _very_ happy, when her little stories please +you--again, my darlings, I wish you the merriest of merry Christmases +for 1882, and every blessing in the new year that will soon be coming! + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + +***** This file should be named 6676-8.txt or 6676-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/7/6676/ + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/6676-8.zip b/old/6676-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a54ab9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6676-8.zip diff --git a/old/6676.txt b/old/6676.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b48c07d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6676.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5309 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rosy + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Release Date: March 16, 2014 [EBook #6676] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + + + + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + + +ROSY + +BY + +MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY.' + + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: MANCHON] + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I. ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX + +CHAPTER II. BEATA + +CHAPTER III. TEARS + +CHAPTER IV. UPS AND DOWNS + +CHAPTER V. ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER + +CHAPTER VI. A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM + +CHAPTER VII. MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT + +CHAPTER VIII. HARD TO BEAR + +CHAPTER IX. THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR + +CHAPTER X. STINGS FOR BEE + +CHAPTER XI. A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT + +CHAPTER XII. GOOD OUT OF EVIL + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +MANCHON + +"BEATA, DEAR, THIS IS MY ROSY," SHE SAID + +ROSY AND MANCHON + +"WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?" HE SAID + +"DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?" ROSY REPEATED + +"WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?" SAID FIXIE + +BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH THEM + +"IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX. + + + "The highest not more + Than the height of a counsellor's bag." + --WORDSWORTH. + +Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat +fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth +till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows +over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a +house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the +floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all +to no purpose, and this made Rosy still more vexed. + +"Mamma," she said at last, for really it was too bad--wasn't it?--when +she had given herself such a lot of trouble to show how vexed she was, +that no one should take any notice. "_Mamma_" she repeated. + +But still no one answered, and obliged at last to turn round, for her +patience was at an end, Rosy saw that there was no one in the room. +Mamma had gone away! That was a great shame--really a _great_ +shame. Rosy was offended, and she wanted mamma to see how offended she +was, and mamma chose just that moment to leave the room. Rosy looked +round--there was no good going on pouting and frowning and drumming +and stamping to make mamma notice her if mamma wasn't there, and all +that sort of going on caused Rosy a good deal of trouble. So she left +off. But she wanted to quarrel with somebody. In fact, she felt that +she _must_ quarrel with somebody. She looked round again. The +only "somebody" to be seen was mamma's big, _big_ Persian cat, +whose name was "Manchon" (_why_, Rosy did not know; she thought +it a very stupid name), of whom, to tell the truth, Rosy was rather +afraid. For Manchon could look very grand and terrible when he reared +up his back, and swept about his magnificent tail; and though he had +never been known to hurt anybody, and mamma said he was the gentlest +of animals, Rosy felt sure that he could do all sorts of things to +punish his enemies if he chose. And knowing in her heart that she did +not like him, that she was indeed sometimes rather jealous of him, +Rosy always had a feeling that she must not take liberties with him, +as she could not help thinking he knew what she felt. + +[Illustration: ROSY AND MANCHON] + +No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his cushion +looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch his +ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up at +her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly +little girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still. + +"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't. +And I shan't like _her_. You needn't make faces at me," as +Manchon, disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort +of discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care +what mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I +_won't_ like her;" and then, without considering that there was +no one near to see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little +feet hard, and repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I +_won't_ like her." + +But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than +Rosy even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled +face, but not seeming very surprised. + +"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you." + +"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too +bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix." + +But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move. +Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater. + +"_Is_ you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he +came farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently +than before, "_do_ come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea +when Losy isn't there, and Fix is tired to-day." + +Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her. She +stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and hugged +him. + +"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if _you_ want +her. Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?" + +"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese +Fix _kite_ so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her +grasp. Instantly the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face. + +"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother +away from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her +cuddling you _skeesing_." + +Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But +just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix, +Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come +along. There's something good for tea." + +"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. +Again Rosy's mood changed. + +"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's +only troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take +Rosy's hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind +Colin--he's such a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, +appeared at the door, Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, +hand-in-hand, Rosy the picture of a model little elder sister. + +Colin just glanced at them and ran off. + +"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's +fluff for tea--strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all +the afternoon, and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said +cook said it was for the children!" + +Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed. + +There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on +the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said +there was nothing else. + +"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard +you yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'" + +"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I +didn't say it was for to-day--it's for to-morrow, Sunday." + +"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It +should be eaten at once." + +"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I +don't know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've +eaten it in the kitchen." + +"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've +always been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the +nursery," and he thumped impressively on the table. + +"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said +Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. + +"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and +speaking for the first time since she had come into the room. + +"Nonsense, Rosy," said Colin. "_I_ don't mind. Martha was only +joking." + +Rosy relapsed into silence, to Martha's relief. + +"If Miss Rosy is going to begin!" she had said to herself with fear +and trembling. She seldom or never ventured to joke with Rosy--few +people who knew her did--but Colin was the most good-natured of +children. She looked at Rosy rather curiously, taking care, however, +that the little girl should not notice it. + +"There's something the matter with her," thought Martha, for Rosy +looked really buried in gloom; "perhaps her mamma's been telling her +what she told me this morning. I was sure Miss Rosy wouldn't like it, +and perhaps it's natural, so spoilt as she's been, having everything +her own way for so long. One would be sorry for her if she'd only let +one," and her voice was kind and gentle as she asked the little girl +if she wouldn't like some more tea. + +Rosy shook her head. + +"I don't want nothing," she said. + +"What's the matter, Rosy?" said Colin. + +"Losy's bovvered," said Fixie. + +Colin gave a whistle. + +"Oh!" he said, meaningly, "I expect I know what it's all about. I +know, too, Rosy. You're afraid your nose is going to be put out of +joint, I expect." + +"Master Colin, don't," said Martha, warningly, but it was too late. +Rosy dashed off her seat, and running round to Colin's side of the +table, doubled up her little fist, and hit her brother hard with all +her baby force, then, without waiting to see if she had hurt him or +not, she rushed from the room without speaking, made straight for her +own little bedroom, and, throwing herself down on the floor with her +head on a chair, burst into a storm of miserable, angry crying. + +"I wish I was back with auntie--oh, I do, I do," she said, among her +sobs. "Mamma doesn't love me like Colin and Pixie. If she did, she +wouldn't go and bring a nasty, horrible little girl to live with us. I +hate her, and I shall always hate her--_nasty_ little thing!" + +The nursery was quiet after Rosy left it--quiet but sad. + +"Dear, dear," said Martha, "if people would but think what they're +doing when they spoil children! Poor Miss Rosy, but she is naughty! +Has it hurt you, Master Colin?" + +"No," said Colin, _one_ of whose eyes nevertheless was crying +from Rosy's blow, "not much. But it's so _horrid_, going on like +this." + +"Of course it is, and _why_ you can go on teasing your sister, +knowing her as you do, I can't conceive," said Martha. "If it was only +for peace sake, I'd let her alone, I would, if I was you, Master +Colin." + +Martha had rather a peevish and provoking way of finding fault or +giving advice. Just now her voice sounded almost as if she was going +to cry. But Colin was a sensible boy. He knew what she said was true, +so he swallowed down his vexation, and answered good-naturedly, + +"Well, I'll try and not tease. But Rosy isn't like anybody else. She +flies into a rage for just nothing, and it's always those people +somehow that make one _want_ to tease them. But, I say, Martha, I +really do _wonder_ how we'll get on when--" + +A warning glance stopped him, and he remembered that little Felix knew +nothing of what he was going to speak about, and that his mother did +not wish anything more said of it just yet. So Colin said no more--he +just whistled, as he always did if he was at a loss about anything, +but his whistle sometimes seemed to say a good deal. + +How was it that Colin was so good-tempered and reasonable, Felix so +gentle and obedient, and Rosy, poor Rosy, so very different? For they +were her very own brothers, she was their very own sister. There must +have been some difference, I suppose, naturally. Rosy had always been +a fiery little person, but the great pity was that she had been sadly +spoilt. For some years she had been away from her father and mother, +who had been abroad in a warm climate, where delicate little Felix was +born. They had not dared to take Colin and Rosy with them, but Colin, +who was already six years old when they left England, had had the good +fortune to be sent to a very nice school, while Rosy had stayed +altogether with her aunt, who had loved her dearly, but in wishing to +make her perfectly happy had made the mistake of letting her have her +own way in everything. And when she was eight years old, and her +parents came home, full of delight to have their children all together +again, the disappointment was great of finding Rosy so unlike what +they had hoped. And as months passed, and all her mother's care and +advice and gentle firmness seemed to have no effect, Rosy's true +friends began to ask themselves what should be done. The little girl +was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other +people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what +Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead +of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I +will soon tell you what it was. + +Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper +tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is +_nothing_ more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid +kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. Not like +the rather _nice_ tiredness one feels when one has been working +hard either at one's own business, or, _still_ nicer, at helping +other people--the sort of pleasant fatigue with which one lays one's +head on the pillow, feeling that all the lessons are learnt, and well +learnt, for to-morrow morning, or that the bit of garden is quite, +quite clear of weeds, and father or mother will be so pleased to see +it! But to fall half asleep on the floor, or on your bed, with +wearied, swollen eyes, and panting breath and aching head, feeling or +fancying that no one loves you--that the world is all wrong, and there +is nothing sweet or bright or pretty in it, no place for you, and no +use in being alive--all these _miserable_ feelings that are the +natural and the right punishment of yielding to evil tempers, +forgetting selfishly all the pain and trouble you cause--what +_can_ be more wretched? Indeed, I often think no punishment that +can be given can be half so bad as the punishment that comes of +itself--that is joined to the sin by ties that can never be undone. +And the shame of it all! Rosy was not quite what she had been when she +first came home to her mother--she was beginning to feel ashamed when +she had yielded to her temper--and even this, though a small +improvement, was always something--one little step in the right way, +one little sign of better things. + +She was not asleep--scarcely half asleep, only stupid and dazed with +crying--when the door opened softly, and some one peeped in. It was +Fixie. He came creeping in very quietly--when was Fixie anything but +quiet?--and with a very distressed look on his tiny, white face. +Something came over Rosy--a mixture of shame and sorrow, and also some +curiosity to see what her little brother would do; and these feelings +mixed together made her shut her eyes tighter and pretend to be +asleep. + +Fixie came close up to her, peeped almost into her face, so that if +she had been really asleep I rather think it would have awakened her, +except that all he did was so _very_ gentle and like a little +mouse; and then, quite satisfied that she was fast asleep, he slowly +settled himself down on the floor by her side. + +"Poor Losy," he said softly. "Fixie are so solly for you. Poor +Losy--why can't her be good? Why doesn't God make Losy good all in a +minute? Fixie always akses God to make her good"--he stopped in his +whispered talk, suddenly--he had fancied for a moment that Rosy was +waking, and it was true that she had moved. She had given a sort of +wriggle, for, sweet and gentle as Fixie was, she did not at all like +being spoken of as _not_ good. She didn't see why he need pray to +God to make _her_ good, more than other people, she said to +herself, and for half a second she was inclined to jump up and tell +Pix to go away; it wasn't his business whether she was good or +naughty, and she wouldn't have him in her room. But she did _not_ +do so,--she lay still again, and she was glad she had, for poor Fixie +stopped in his talking to pat her softly. + +"Don't wake, poor Losy," he said. "Go on sleeping, Losy, if you are so +tired, and Fix will watch aside you and take care of you." + +He seemed to have forgotten all about her being naughty--he sat beside +her, patting her softly, and murmuring a sort of cooing "Hush, hush, +Losy," as if she were a baby, that was very touching, like the murmur +of a sad little dove. And by and by, with going on repeating it so +often, his own head began to feel confused and drowsy--it dropped +lower and lower, and at last found a resting-place on Rosy's knees. +Rosy, who had really been getting sleepy, half woke up when she felt +the weight of her little brother's head and shoulder upon her--she +moved him a little so that he should lie more comfortably, and put one +arm round him. + +"Dear Fixie," she said to herself, "I do love him, and I'm sure he +loves me," and her face grew soft and gentle--and when Rosy's face +looked like that it was very pretty and sweet. But it quickly grew +dark and gloomy again as another thought struck her. "If Fixie loves +that nasty little girl better than me or as much--if he loves her +_at all_, I'll--I don't know what I'll do. I'd almost hate him, +and I'm sure I'll hate her, any way. Mamma says she's such a dear good +little girl--that means that everybody'll say _I'm_ naughtier +than ever." + +But just then Fixie moved a little and whispered something in his +sleep. + +"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught +the sound of her voice. + +"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again. + +And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BEATA. + + + "How will she be--fair-haired or dark, + Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet? + --All that I care not for, so she be no phraser." + --OLD PLAY. + +"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin, +She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and +Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And +what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she +caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight. + +"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it +doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds +of times. It's nothing, only--" and Colin gave a sort of wriggle. + +"Only what?" said his mother. + +"I do so wish Rosy wouldn't be like that. It spoils everything. Just +this Easter holiday time too, when I thought we'd be so happy." + +His mother's face grew still graver. + +"Do you mean that it was _Rosy_ that struck you--that hit you in +the eye?" she said. + +Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I +teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put +out of joint when Be--I can't say her name--when the little girl +comes." + +"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained +to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I +thought you would have tried to help me, Colin." + +Colin felt very vexed with himself. + +"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I +could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the +way, and one has to learn not to mind it." + +"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn +not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just +now, especially not about little Beata." + +"Mother," said Colin. + +"Well, my boy," said his mother. + +"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say." + +"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I +daresay you can call her so." + +"Yes, that would be much better," said Colin, in a more contented +tone. + +"Only," said his mother again, and she couldn't help smiling a little +when she said it, "if you call her 'Bee,' don't make it the beginning +of any new teasing by calling Rosy 'Wasp.'" + +"Mother!" said Colin. "I daresay I would never have thought of it. But +I promise you I won't." + +This was what had upset Rosy so terribly--the coming of little Beata. +She--Beata--was the child of friends of Rosy's parents. They had been +much together in India, and had returned to England at the same time. +So Beata was already well known to Rosy's mother, and Fixie, too, had +learnt to look upon her almost as a sister. Beata's father and mother +were obliged to go back to India, and it had been settled that their +little girl was to be left at home with her grandmother. But just a +short time before they were to leave, her grandmother had a bad +illness, and it was found she would not be well enough to take charge +of the child. And in the puzzle about what they should do with her, it +had struck her father and mother that perhaps their friends, Rosy's +parents, might be able to help them, and they had written to ask them; +and so it had come about that little Beata was to come to live with +them. It had all seemed so natural and nice. Rosy's mother was so +pleased about it, for she thought it would be just what Rosy needed to +make her a pleasanter and more reasonable little girl. + +"Beata is such a nice child," she said to Rosy's father when they were +talking about it, "and not one bit spoilt. I think it is _sure_ +to do Rosy good," and, full of pleasure in the idea, she told Rosy +about it. + +But--one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him +drink, says the old proverb--Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the +very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming +was on purpose to vex _her_, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most +things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what +had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her--when she would +have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! + +Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say +no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as +he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his +delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing +in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt +by her _exactingness_. Fixie must love her as much or better than +anybody--he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. +That was how she sometimes talked to him, and it puzzled and +frightened him--he was such a very little fellow, you see. And +_mother_ had never told him that loving other people too made his +love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata +had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to +say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy +must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had +been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. + +Rosy's mother thought over what Colin had told her, and settled in her +own mind that it was better to take no notice of it in speaking to +Rosy. + +"If it had been a quarrel about anything else," she said to herself, +"it would have been different. But about Beata I want to say nothing +more to vex Rosy, or wake her unkind feelings." + +But Rosy's mother did not yet quite know her little girl. There was +one thing about her which was _not_ spoilt, and that was her +honesty. + +When the children came down that morning to see their mother, as they +always did, a little after breakfast, Rosy's face wore a queer look. + +"Good morning, little people," said their mother. "I was rather late +this morning, do you know? That was why I didn't come to see you in +the nursery. I am going to write to your aunt to-day. Would you like +to put in a little letter, Rosy?" + +"No, thank you," said Rosy. + +"Then shall I just send your love? and Fixie's too?" said her mother. +She went on speaking because she noticed the look in Rosy's face, but +she wanted not to seem to do so, thinking Rosy would then gradually +forget about it all. + +"I don't want to send my love," said Rosy. "If you say I _must_, +I suppose I must, but I don't _want_ to send it." + +"Do you think your love is not worth having, my poor little girl?" +said her mother, smiling a little sadly, as she drew Rosy to her. +"Don't you believe we all love you, Rosy, and want you to love us?" + +"I don't know," said Rosy, gloomily. "I don't think anybody can love +me, for Martha's always saying if I do naughty things _you_ won't +love me and father won't love me, and nobody." + +"Then why don't you leave off doing naughty things, Rosy?" said her +mother. + +"Oh, I can't," Rosy replied, coolly. "I suppose I was spoilt at +auntie's, and now I'm too old to change. I don't care. It isn't my +fault: it's auntie's." + +"Rosy," said her mother, gravely, "who ever said so to you? Where did +you ever hear such a thing?" + +"Lots of times," Rosy replied. "Martha's said so, and Colin says so +when he's vexed with me. He's always said so," she added, as if she +didn't quite like owning it, but felt that she must. "He said I was +spoilt before you came home, but auntie wouldn't let him. _She_ +thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she +thought so too. + +"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if +you ask _yourself_, Rosy, you will very often find that you are +not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it +is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You +must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt +was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her." + +"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit +Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. I was going to tell you--I meant to +tell you." + +"And are you sorry for it now, Rosy dear?" asked her mother, very +gently. + +Rosy looked at her in surprise. Her mother spoke so gently. She had +rather expected her to be shocked--she had almost, if you can +understand, _wished_ her to be shocked, so that she could say to +herself how naughty everybody thought her, how it was no use her +trying to be good and all the rest of it--and she had told over what +she had done in a hard, _un_sorry way, almost on purpose. But +now, when her mother spoke so kindly, a different feeling came into +her heart. She looked at her mother, and then she looked down on the +ground, and then, almost to her own surprise, she answered, almost +humbly, + +"I don't know. I don't think I was, but I think I am a little sorry +now." + +Seeing her so unusually gentle, her mother went a little further. +"What made you so vexed with Colin?" she asked. Rosy's face hardened. + +"Mother," she said, "you'd better not ask me. It was because of +something he said that I don't want to tell you." + +"About Beata?" asked her mother. + +"Well," said Rosy, "if you know about it, it isn't my fault if you are +vexed. I don't want her to come--I don't want _any_ little girl +to come, because I know I shan't like her. I like boys better than +girls, and I don't like good little girls _at all_." + +"Rosy," said her mother, "you are talking so sillily that if Fixie +even talked like that I should be quite surprised. I won't answer you. +I will not say any more about Beata--you know what I wish, and what is +right, and so I will leave it to you. And I will give you a kiss, my +little girl, to show you that I want to trust you to try to do right +about this." + +She was stooping to kiss her, when Rosy stopped her. + +"Thank you, mother," she said. "But I don't think I can take the kiss +like that--I don't _want_ to like the little girl." + +"Rosy!" exclaimed her mother, almost in despair. Then another thought +struck her. She bent down again and kissed the child. "I _give_ +you the kiss, Rosy," she said, "hoping it will at least make you +_wish_ to please me." + +"Oh," said Rosy, "I do want to please you, mother, about everything +_except_ that." + +But her mother thought it best to take no further notice, only in her +own heart she said to herself, "Was there _ever_ such a child?" + +In spite of all she had said Rosy felt, what she would not have owned +for the world, a good deal of curiosity about the little girl who was +to come to live with them. And now and then, in her cross and unhappy +moods, a sort of strange confused _hope_ would creep over her +that Beata's coming would bring her a kind of good luck. + +"Everybody says she's so good, and everybody loves her," thought Rosy, +"p'raps I'll find out how she does it." + +And the days passed on, on the whole, after the storm I have told you +about, rather more peaceably than before, till one evening when Rosy +was saying good-night her mother said to her quietly, + +"Rosy, I had a letter this morning from Beata's uncle; he is bringing +her to-morrow. She will be here about four o'clock in the afternoon." + +"To-morrow!" said Rosy, and then, without saying any more, she kissed +her mother and went to bed. + +She went to sleep that evening, and she woke the next morning with a +strange jumble of feelings in her mind, and a strange confusion of +questions waiting to be answered. + +"What would Beata be like? She was sure to be pretty--all people that +other people love very much were pretty, Rosy thought. And she +believed that she herself was very ugly, which, I may tell you, +children, as Rosy won't hear what we say, was quite a mistake. +Everybody is a _little_ pretty who is sweet and good, for though +being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the +shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines +smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives +the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, +alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away +the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good +fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to +be pretty. She had very soft bright hair, and a very white skin, and +large brown eyes that looked lovely when she let sweet thoughts and +feelings shine through them; but though she had many faults, she was +not vain, and she really thought she was not pleasant-looking at all. + +"Beata is sure to be pretty," thought Rosy. "I daresay she'll have +beautiful black hair, and blue eyes like Lady Albertine." Albertine +was Rosy's best doll. "And I daresay she'll be very clever, and play +the piano and speak French far better than me. I don't mind that. I +like pretty people, and I don't mind people being clever. What I don't +like is, people who are dedfully _good_ always going on about how +good they are, and how naughty _other_ people is. If she doesn't +do that way I shan't mind so much, but I'm sure she _will_ do +that way. Yes, Manchon," she said aloud, "I'm sure she will, and you +needn't begin 'froo'in' about it." + +For Rosy was in the drawing-room when all these thoughts were passing +through her mind--she was there with her afternoon frock on, and a +pretty muslin apron, all nice to meet Beata and her uncle, who were +expected very soon. And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite +peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any +good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," +she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the +cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the +credit of reading her very thoughts! + +The door opened, and her mother came in, leading Fixie by the hand and +Colin just behind. + +"Oh, you're ready, Rosy," she said. "That's right. They should be here +very soon." + +"Welly soon," repeated Fixie. "Oh, Fixie will be so glad to see Beenie +again!" + +"What a stupid name," said Rosy. "_We_'re not to call her that, +are we, mother?" + +She spoke in rather a grand, grown-up tone, but her mother knew she +put that on sometimes when she was not really feeling unkind. + +"_I_ shall call her Bee," said Colin. "It would do very well, as +we've"--he stopped suddenly--"as we've got a wasp already," he had +been going to say--it seemed to come so naturally--when his mother's +warning came back to his mind. He caught her eye, and he saw that she +couldn't help smiling and he found it so difficult not to burst out +laughing that he stuffed his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth, and +went to the window, where he pretended to see something very +interesting. Rosy looked up suspiciously. + +"What were you going to say, Colin?" she asked. "I'm sure--" but she +too stopped, for just then wheels were heard on the gravel drive +outside. + +"Here they are," said mother. "Will you come to the door to welcome +Beata, Rosy?" + +Rosy came forward, though rather slowly. Colin was already out in the +hall, and Fixie was dancing along beside his mother. Rosy kept behind. +The carriage, that had gone to the station to meet the travellers, was +already at the door, and the footman was handing out one or two +umbrellas, rugs, and so on. Then a gray-haired gentleman, whom Rosy, +peeping through a side window, did not waste her attention on--"He is +quite old," she said to herself--got out, and lifted down a much +smaller person--smaller than Rosy herself, and a good deal smaller +than the Beata of Rosy's fancies. The little person sprang forward, +and was going to kiss Rosy's mother, when she caught sight of the tiny +white face beside her. + +"O Fixie, dear little Fixie!" she said, stooping to hug him, and then +she lifted her own face for Fixie's mother to kiss. At once, almost +before shaking hands with the gentleman, Rosy's mother looked round +for her, and Rosy had to come forward. + +"Beata, dear, this is my Rosy," she said; and something in the tone of +the "my" touched Rosy. It seemed to say, "I will put no one before +you, my own little girl--no stranger, however sweet--and you will, on +your side, try to please me, will you not?" So Rosy's face, though +grave, had a nice look the first time Beata saw it, and the first +words she said as they kissed each other were, "O Rosy, how pretty you +are! I shall love you very much." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +TEARS. + + + "'Twere most ungrateful."--V. S. LAKDOH. + +Beata was not pretty. That was the first thing Rosy decided about her. +She was small, and rather brown and thin. She had dark hair, certainly +like Lady Albertine's in colour, but instead of splendid curls it was +cut quite short--as short almost as Colin's--and her eyes were neither +very large nor very blue. They were nice gray eyes, that could look +sad, but generally looked merry, and about the rest of her face there +was nothing very particular. + +Rosy looked at her for a moment or two, and she looked at Rosy. Then +at last Rosy said, + +"Will you come into the drawing-room?" for she saw that her mother and +Beata's uncle were already on their way there. + +"Thank you," said Beata, and then they quietly followed the big +people. Rosy's father was not at home, but he would be back soon, her +mother was telling the gray-haired gentleman, and then she went on to +ask him how "they" had got off, if it had been comfortably, and so on. + +"Oh yes," he replied, "it was all quite right. Poor Maud!--" + +"That's my mamma," said Beata in a low voice, and Rosy, turning +towards her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. + +"What a queer little girl she is!" thought Rosy, but she did not say +so. + +"--Poor Maud," continued the gentleman. "It is a great comfort to her +to leave the child in such good hands." + +"I hope she will be happy," said Rosy's mother. "I will do my best to +make her so." + +"I am very sure of that," said Beata's uncle. "It is a great +disappointment to her grandmother not to have her with her. She is a +dear child. Last week at the parting she behaved like a brick." + +Both little girls heard this, and Beata suddenly began speaking rather +fast, and Rosy saw that her cheeks had got very red. + +"Do you think your mamma would mind if I went upstairs to take off my +hat? I think my face must be dirty with the train," said Beata. + +"Don't you like staying here?" said Rosy, rather crossly. "_I_ +think you should stay till mother tells it to go," for she wanted to +hear what more her mother and the gentleman said to each other, the +very thing that made Beata uncomfortable. + +Beata looked a little frightened. + +"I didn't mean to be rude," she said. Then suddenly catching sight of +Manchon, she exclaimed, "Oh, what a beautiful cat! May I go and stroke +him?" + +"If you like," said Rosy, "but he isn't _really_ a nice cat." And +then, seeing that Beata looked at her with curiosity, she forgot about +listening to the big people, and, getting up, led Beata to Manchon's +cushion. + +"Everybody says he's pretty," she went on, "but I don't think so, +because _I_ think he's a kind of bad fairy. You don't know how he +froos sometimes, in a most horrible way, as if he was mocking you. He +knows I don't like him, for whenever I'm vexed he looks pleased." + +"Does he really?" said Beata. "Then I don't like him. I shouldn't look +pleased if you were vexed, Rosy." + +"Wouldn't you?" said Rosy, doubtfully. + +"No, I'm sure I wouldn't. I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has +such an unkind dis--I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you +know." + +"Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its +only _me_ Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. _I'm_ +not the favourite. I _was_ at my aunty's though, that I was--but +it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head +dolefully. + +"Who is Nelson?" asked Beata. + +"Aunty's maid. She cried when I came away, and she said it was because +she was so sorry for me. It wouldn't be the same as _there_, she +said. I shouldn't be thought as much of with two brothers, and Nelson +knew that my mamma was dreadfully strict. I daresay she'd be still +more sorry for me if she knew--" Rosy stopped short. + +"Why don't you go on?" said Beata. + +"Oh, I was going to say something I don't want to say. Perhaps it +would vex you," said Rosy. + +Beata considered a little. + +"I'm not very easily vexed," she said at last. "I think I'd like you +to go on saying it if you don't mind--unless its anything naughty." + +"Oh no," said Rosy, "it isn't anything naughty. I was going to say +Nelson would be still more sorry for me if she knew _you_ had +come." + +"_Me!_" said Beata, opening her eyes. "Why? She can't know +anything about me--I mean she couldn't know anything to make her think +I would be unkind to you." + +"Oh no, it isn't that. Only you see some little girls would think that +if another little girl came to live with them it wouldn't be so +nice--that perhaps their mammas and brothers and everybody would pet +the other little girl more than them." + +"And do you think that?" said Beata, anxiously. A feeling like a cold +chill seemed to have touched her heart. She had never before thought +of such things--loving somebody else "better," not being "the +favourite," and so on. Could it all be true, and could it, +_worst_ of all, be true that her coming might be the cause of +trouble and vexation to other people--at least to Rosy? She had come +so full of love and gratitude, so ready to like everybody; she had +said so many times to her mother, "I'm _sure_ I'll be happy. I'll +write and tell you how happy I am," swallowing bravely the grief of +leaving her mother, and trying to cheer her at the parting by telling +her this--it seemed very hard and strange to little Beata to be told +that _anybody_ could think she could be the cause of unhappiness +to any one. "Do _you_ think that?" she repeated. + +Rosy looked at her, and something in the little eager face gave her +what she would have called a "sorry" feeling. But mixed with this was +a sense of importance--she liked to think that she was very good for +not feeling what she said "some little girls" would have felt. + +"No," she said, rather patronisingly, "I don't think I do. I only said +_some_ little girls would. No, I think I shall like you, if only +you don't make a fuss about how good you are, and set them all against +me. I settled before you came that I wouldn't mind if you were pretty +or very clever. And you're not pretty, and I daresay you're not very +clever. So I won't mind, if you don't make everybody praise you up for +being so _good_." + +Beata's eyes filled with tears. + +"I don't want anybody to praise me," she said. "I only wanted you all +to love me," and again Rosy had the sorry feeling, though she did not +feel that she was to blame. + +"I only told her what I really thought," she said to herself; but +before she had time to reflect that there are two ways of telling what +one thinks, and that sometimes it is not only foolish, but wrong and +unkind, to tell of thoughts and feelings which we should try to +_leave off_ having, her mother turned round to speak to her. + +"I think we should take Beata upstairs to her room, Rosy," she said. +"You must be tired, dear," and the kind words and tone, so like what +her own mother's would have been, made the cup of Beata's distress +overflow. She gave a little sob and then burst into tears. Rosy half +sprang forward--she was on the point of throwing her arms round Beata +and whispering, "I _will_ love you, dear, I _do_ love you;" +but alas, the strange foolish pride that so often checked her good +feelings, held her back, and jealousy whispered, "If you begin making +such a fuss about her, she'll think she's to be before you, and very +likely, if you seem so sorry, she'll tell your mother you made her +cry." So Rosy stood still, grave and silent, but with some trouble in +her face, and her mother felt a little, just a very little vexed with +Beata for beginning so dolefully. + +"It will discourage Rosy," she said to herself, "just when I was so +anxious for Beata to win her affection from the first." + +And Beata's uncle, too, looked disappointed. Just when he had been +praising her so for her bravery! + +"Why, my little girl," he said, "you didn't cry like this even when +you said good-bye at Southampton." + +"That must be it," said Rosy's mother, who was too kind to feel vexed +for more than an instant; "the poor child has put too much force on +herself, and that always makes one break down afterwards. Come, dear +Beata, and remember how much your mother wanted you to be happy with +us." + +She held out her hand, but to her surprise Beata still hung back, +clinging to her uncle. + +"Oh, please," she whispered, "let me go back with you, uncle. I don't +care how dull it is--I shall not be any trouble to grandmother while +she is ill. Do let me go back--I cannot stay here." + +Beata's uncle was kind, but he had not much experience of children. + +"Beata," he said, and his voice was almost stern, "it is impossible. +All is arranged here for you. You will be sorry afterwards for giving +way so foolishly. You would not wish to seem _ungrateful_, my +little girl, for all your kind friends here are going to do for you?" + +The word ungrateful had a magical effect. Beata raised her head from +his shoulder, and digging in her pocket for her little handkerchief, +wiped away the tears, and then looking up, her face still quivering, +said gently, "I won't cry any more, uncle; I _will_ be good. +Indeed, I didn't mean to be naughty." + +"That's right," he answered, encouragingly. And then Rosy's mother +again held out her hand, and Beata took it timidly, and followed by +Rosy, whose mind was in a strange jumble, they went upstairs to the +room that was to be the little stranger's. + +It was as pretty a little room as any child could have wished +for--bright and neat and comfortable, with a pleasant look-out on the +lawn at the side of the house, while farther off, over the trees, the +village church, or rather its high spire, could be seen. For a moment +Beata forgot her new troubles. + +"Oh, how pretty!" she said, "Is this to be my room? I never had such a +nice one. But when they come home from India for always, papa and +mamma are going to get a pretty house, and choose all the +furniture--like here, you know, only not so pretty, I daresay, for a +house like this would cost such a great deal of money." + +She was chattering away to Rosy's mother quite in her old way, greatly +to Rosy's mother's pleasure, when she--Mrs. Vincent, opened a door +Beata had not before noticed. + +"This is Rosy's room," she said. "I thought it would be nice for you +to be near each other. And I know you are very tidy, Bee, so you will +set Rosy a good example--eh, Rosy?" + +She said it quite simply, and Beata would have taken it in the same +way half an hour before, but looking round the little girl caught an +expression on Rosy's face which brought back all her distress. It +seemed to say, "Oh, you're beginning to be praised already, I see," +but Rosy's mother had not noticed it, for Rosy had turned quickly +away. When, however, Mrs. Vincent, surprised at Beata's silence, +looked at her again, all the light had faded out of the little face, +and again she seemed on the point of tears. + +"How strangely changeable she is," thought Mrs. Vincent, "I am sure +she used not to be so; she was merry and pleased just as she seemed a +moment or two ago." + +"What is the matter, dear?" she said. "You look so distressed again. +Did it bring back your mother--what I said, I mean?" + +"I think--I suppose so," Beata began, but there she stopped. "'No," +she said bravely, "it wasn't that. But, please--I don't want to be +rude--but, please, would you not praise me--not for being tidy or +anything." + +How gladly at that moment would she have said, "I'm not tidy. Mamma +always says I'm not," had it been true. But it was not--she was a very +neat and methodical child, dainty and trim in everything she had to do +with, as Rosy's mother remembered. + +"What _shall_ I do?" she said to herself. "It seems as if only my +being naughty would make Rosy like me, and keep me from doing her +harm. What _can_ I do?" and a longing came over her to throw her +arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck, and tell her her troubles and ask her +to explain it all to her. But her faithfulness would not let her think +of such a thing. "That _would_ do Rosy harm," she remembered, "and +perhaps she meant to be kind when she spoke that way. It was kinder +than to have kept those feelings to me in her heart and never told me. +But I don't know what to do." + +For already she felt that Mrs. Vincent thought her queer and +changeable, _rude_ even, perhaps, though she only smiled at +Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she +said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite. + +"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised." + +Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and +telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon +be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and +she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. + +"Miss Rosy," she said, "will you please to go into the nursery and put +away your dolls' things before tea. They're all over the table. I'd +have done it in a minute, but you have your own ways and I was afraid +of doing it wrong." + +She spoke kindly and cheerfully. + +"What a nice nurse!" thought Beata, with a feeling of relief--a sort +of hope that Martha might help to make things easier for her somehow, +especially as there was something very kindly in the way the maid +began to help her to unfasten her jacket and lay aside her travelling +things. To her surprise, Rosy made no answer. + +"Miss Rosy, please," said Martha again, and then Rosy looked up +crossly. + +"'Miss Rosy, please,'" she said mockingly. "You're just putting on all +that politeness to show off. No, I won't please. You can put the dolls +away yourself, and, if you do them wrong, it's your own fault. You've +seen lots of times how I do them." + +"Miss Rosy!" said Martha, as if she wanted to beg Rosy to be good, and +her voice was still kind, though her face had got very red when Rosy +told her she was "showing off." + +Beata stood in shocked silence. She had had no idea that Rosy could +speak so, and, sad as it was, Martha did not seem surprised. + +"I wonder if she is often like that," thought little Bee, and in +concern for Rosy her own troubles began to be forgotten. + +They went into the nursery to tea. Martha had cleared away Rosy's +things and had done her best to lay them as the little girl liked. But +before sitting down to the table, Rosy would go to the drawer where +they were kept, and was in the middle of scolding at finding something +different from what she liked when Colin and Fixie came in to tea. + +"I say, Rosy," said Colin, "you might let us have one tea-time in +peace,--Bee's first evening." + +Rosy turned round upon him. + +"_I_'m not a pretender," she said. "_I_'m not going to sham +being good and all that, like Martha and you, because Bee has just +come." + +"I don't know what you've been saying to Martha," said Colin, "but I +can't see why you need begin at me about shamming before Bee. You've +not seen me for two minutes since she came. What's the matter, Fix? +Wait a minute and I'll help you," for Fixie was tugging away at his +chair, and could not manage to move it as he wanted. + +"I want to sit, aside Bee," he said. + +Rosy threw an angry look at him--he understood what she meant. + +"I'll sit, aside you again to-morrow, Losy," he hastened to say. But +it did no good. Rosy was now determined to find nothing right. There +came a little change in their thoughts, however, for the kitchen-maid +appeared at the door with a plate of nice cold ham and some of the +famous strawberry jam. + +"Cook thought the young lady would be hungry after her journey," she +said. + +"Yes, indeed," cried Colin, "the young lady's very hungry, and so are +the young gentlemen, and so is the other young lady--aren't you, +Rosy?" he said good-naturedly, turning to her. "He is really a very +kind boy," thought Beata. "Tell cook, with my best compliments, that +we are very much obliged to her, and she needn't expect to see any of +the ham or the strawberry jam again." + +It was later than the usual tea-hour, so all the children were hungry +and, thanks to this, the meal passed quietly. Beata said little, +though she could not help laughing at some of Colin's funny speeches. +But for the shock of Rosy's temper and the confusion in her mind that +Rosy's way of speaking had made, Bee would have been quite happy, as +happy at least, she would have said, "as I can be till mamma comes +home again," but Rosy seemed to throw a cloud over everybody. There +was never any knowing from one minute to another how she was going to +be. Only one thing became plainer to Bee. It was not only because +_she_ had come that Rosy was cross and unhappy. It was easy to +see that she was at all times very self-willed and queer-tempered, +and, though Bee was too good and kind to be glad of this, yet, as she +was a very sensible little girl, it made things look clearer to her. + +"I will not begin fancying it is because I am in her place, or +anything like that," she said to herself. "I will be as good as I can +be, and perhaps she will get to like me," and Rosy was puzzled and +perhaps, in her strange contradiction, a little vexed at the brighter +look that came over Bee's face, and the cheery way in which she spoke. +For at the first, when she saw how much Bee had taken to heart what +she said, though her _best_ self felt sorry for the little +stranger, she had liked the feeling that she would be a sort of master +over her, and that the fear of seeming to take _her_ place would +prevent Bee from making friends with the others more than she, Rosy, +chose to allow. + +Poor Rosy! She would have herself been shocked had she seen written +down in plain words all the feelings her jealous temper caused her. +But almost the worst of jealousy is that it hides itself in so many +dresses, and gives itself so many names, sometimes making itself seem +quite a right and proper feeling; often, very often making one think +oneself a poor, ill-treated martyr, when in reality, the martyrs are +the unfortunate people that have to live with the foolish person who +has allowed jealousy to become his master. + +Beata's uncle left that evening, but before he went away he had the +pleasure of seeing his little niece quite herself again. + +"That's right," he said, as he bade her good-bye, "I don't know what +came over you this afternoon." + +Beata did not say anything, but she just kissed her uncle, and +whispered, "Give my love to dear grandmother, and tell her I am going +to try to be very good." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +UPS AND DOWNS. + + + "Mary, Mary, quite contrary."--NURSERY RHYME. + +That night when Bee was in her little bed, though not yet asleep, for +the strangeness of everything, and all she had to think over of what +had happened in the day, had kept her awake longer than usual, she +heard some one softly open the door and look in. + +"Are you awake still, dear?" said a voice which Bee knew in a moment +was that of Rosy's mother. + +"Yes, oh yes. I'm quite awake. I'm not a bit sleepy," Beata answered. + +"But you must try to go to sleep soon," said Mrs. Vincent. "Rosy is +fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late +for little girls to be awake." + +"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the +first night--while everything is--different, you know--and new." + +"And a little strange and lonely, as it were--just at first. Don't be +afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so." + +"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking +at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with +you and Fixie again." + +"I'm very glad of that," said Mrs. Vincent. "And was it not then the +strange feeling that made you so unhappy this afternoon for a little?" + +Beata hesitated. + +"Tell me, dear," said Mrs. Vincent. "You know if I am to be a 'make-up +mother' for a while, you must talk to me as much as you _can_, as +if I were your own mother." + +She listened rather anxiously for Bee's answer, for two or three +little things--among them something Colin had said of the bad temper +Rosy had been in at tea-time--had made her afraid there had been some +reason she did not understand for Beata's tears. Bee lay still for a +minute or two. Then she said gently and rather shyly, + +"I am so sorry, but I don't know what's right to do. Isn't it +sometimes difficult to know?" + +"Yes, sometimes it is." Then Mrs. Vincent, in her turn, was silent for +a minute, and at last she said, + +"Would you very much rather I did not ask you why you cried?" + +"Oh yes," cried Bee, "much, much rather." + +"Very well then, but you will promise me that if the same thing makes +you cry again, you _will_ tell me?" + +"_Should_ I?" said Bee. "I thought--I thought it wasn't right to +tell tales," she added so innocently that Mrs. Vincent could not help +smiling to herself. + +"It is not right," she said. "But what I ask you to promise is not to +tell tales. It is to tell me what makes you unhappy, so that I may +explain it or put it right. I could not do my duty among you and my +other children unless I knew how things were. It is the _spirit_ +that makes tell-tales--the telling over for the sake of getting others +blamed or punished--_that_ is what is wrong." + +"I see," said Beata slowly. "At least I think I see a little, and I'll +try to think about it. I'll promise to tell you if anything makes me +unhappy, _really_ unhappy, but I don't think it will now. I think +I understand better what things I needn't mind." + +"Very well, dear. Then good-night," and Rosy's mother kissed Bee very +kindly, though in her heart she felt sad. It was plain to her that +Rosy had made Bee unhappy, and as she passed through Rosy's room she +stopped a moment by the bed-side and looked at the sleeping child. +Nothing could be prettier than Rosy asleep--her lovely fair hair made +a sort of pale golden frame to her face, and her cheeks had a +beautiful pink flush. But while her mother was watching her, a frown +darkened her white forehead, and her lips parted sharply. + +"I won't have her put before me. I tell you I _won't_," she +called out angrily. Then again, a nicer look came over her face and +she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of. + +"I didn't mean"--"sorry"--"crying," she said, and her mother turned +away a little comforted. + +"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You _do_ know what is +right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy +temper?" + + * * * * * + +The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful +trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night +before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up +the window-blind to look out. And as soon as she was dressed she was +only too delighted to join Rosy and Colin for a run before breakfast. +Children are children all the world over--luckily for themselves and +luckily for other people too--and even children who are sometimes +ill-tempered and unkind are sometimes, too, bright and happy and +lovable. Rosy was after all only a child, and by no means +_always_ a disagreeable spoilt child. And this morning seeing Bee +so merry and happy, she forgot her foolish and unkind feelings about +her, and for the time they were all as contented and joyous as +children should be. + +"Where is Fixie?" asked Beata. "May he not come out a little before +breakfast too?" + +"Martha won't let him," said Rosy. "Nasty cross old thing. She says it +will make him ill, and I am sure it's much more likely to make him ill +keeping him poking in there when he wanted so much to come out with +us." + +"I don't see how you can call Martha cross," said Colin. "And +certainly she's never _cross_ to Fixie." + +"How do _you_ know?" said Rosy, sharply. "You don't see her half +as much as I do. And she can always pretend if she likes." + +Beata looked rather anxiously at Colin. He was on the point of +answering Rosy crossly in his turn, and again Bee felt that sort of +nervous fear of quarrels or disagreeables which it was impossible to +be long in Rosy's company without feeling. But Colin suddenly seemed +to change his mind. + +"Shall we run another race?" he said, without taking any notice of +Rosy's last speech. + +"Yes," said Bee, eagerly, "from here to the library window. But you +must give me a little start--I can't run half so fast as you and +Rosy." + +She said it quite simply, but it pleased Rosy all the same, and she +began considering how much of a start it was fair for Bee to have. + +When that important point was settled, off they set. Bee was the first +to arrive. + +"You must have given me too much of a start," she said, laughing. +"Look here, Colin and Rosy, there's the big cat on the window-seat. +Doesn't he look solemn?" + +"He looks very cross and nasty--he always does," said Rosy. Then, +safely sheltered behind the window, she began tapping on the pane. + +"Manchon, Manchon," she said, "you can't scratch me through the glass, +so I'll just tell you what I think of you for once. You're a cross, +mean, _pretending_ creature. You make everybody say you're so +pretty and so sweet when _really_ you're--" she stopped in a +fright--"Bee, Bee," she cried, "just look at his face. I believe he's +heard all I said." + +"Well, what if he did?" said Beata. "Cats don't understand what one +means." + +"_Manchon_ does," said Rosy. "Come away, Bee, do. Quick, quick. +We'd better go in to breakfast." + +The two little girls ran off, but Colin stayed behind at the library +window. + +"I've been talking to Manchon," he said when he came up to them. "He +told me to give you his compliments, Rosy, and to say he is very much +obliged to you for the pretty things you said to him, and the next +time he has the pleasure of seeing you he hopes to have the honour of +scratching you to show his gratitude." + +Rosy's face got red. + +"Colin, how _dare_ you laugh at me?" she called out in a fury. +She was frightened as well as angry, for she really had a strange fear +of the big cat. + +"I'm not laughing," Colin began again, looking quite serious. "I had +to give you Manchon's message." + + [Illustration: 'WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?' HE SAID] + +Rosy looked at Bee. If there had been the least shadow of a smile on +Bee's face it would have made her still more angry. But Beata looked +grave, because she felt so. + +"Oh, I wish they wouldn't quarrel," she was thinking to herself. "It +does so spoil everything. I can't _think_ how Colin can tease +Rosy so." + +And sadly, feeling already tired, and not knowing what was best to do, +Beata followed the others to the nursery. _They_ did not seem to +care--Colin was already whistling, and though Rosy's face was still +black, no one paid any attention to it. + +But little Fixie ran to Bee and held up his fresh sweet face for a +kiss. + +"What is ze matter wif you, Bee?" he said. "You's c'ying. Colin, Losy, +Bee's c'ying," he exclaimed. + +"You're _not_, are you, Bee?" said Colin. + +"Are you, really?" said Rosy, coming close to her and looking into her +face. + +The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the +children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face. + +"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went +on, "what are you crying for?" + +Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck. + +"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, +oh, I do so wish--" and then she stopped. + +"What?" said Rosy. + +"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish +Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee. + +"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, _that_ wasn't anything--you +should hear us sometimes." + +"_Please_ don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear +Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and +not have anything like that." + +Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand. + +"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because +you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I +daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a +while here." + +"Oh, I _hope_ not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, +Rosy?" + +"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you +do a _little_. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be +better than other people, or _pretending_." + +"But I _don't_ want to do that," said Beata. "I want to _be_ +good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than +other people, and I'm _sure_ I don't want to pretend. I don't +ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? I don't know what +I can say to make you believe me. I can't see that you should think it +such a very funny thing for me to want to be good. Don't _you_ +want to be good?" + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I suppose I do. I do just now, just at this minute. +And just at this minute I believe what you say. But I daresay I won't +always. The first time Colin teases me I know I shall leave off +wanting to be good. I shall want nothing at all except just to give +him a good hard slap--really to hurt him, you know. I do want to +_hurt_ him when I am very angry--just for a little. And if you +were to say anything to me _then_ about being good, I'd very +likely not believe you a bit." + +Just then Martha's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast. + +"Be quiet, Martha," Rosy called back. "We'll come when we're ready. Do +leave us alone. Just when we're talking so nicely," she added, turning +to Bee. "What a bother she is" + +"_I_ think she's very kind," said Bee, "but I don't like to say +anything like that to you, for fear you should think I'm pretending or +'setting up,' or something like that." + +Rosy laughed. + +"I don't think that just now," she said. "Well, let's go into the +nursery, then," and, as they came in, she said to Martha with +wonderful amiability, "We aren't very hungry this morning, I don't +think, for we had each such a big hunch of bread and some milk before +we ran out." + +"That was quite right, Miss Rosy," said Martha, and by the sound of +her voice it was easy to see she was pleased. "It is never a good +thing to go out in the morning without eating something, even if it's +only a little bit." + +Breakfast passed most comfortably, and by good luck Fixie hadn't +forgotten his promise to sit "aside Losy." "It was her turn," he said, +and he seemed to think the honour a very great one. + +"Do you remember on the steamer, Fixie?" said Bee, "how we liked to +sit together, and how hot it was sometimes, and how we used to wish we +were in nice cool England?" + +"Oh ses," said Fixie, "oh it _were_ hot! And the poor young lady, +Bee, that was so ill?" + +"Oh, do you remember her, Fixie? What a good memory you have!" + +Fixie got rather red. + +"I'm not sure that I 'membered her all of myself," he said, "but mamma +telled me about her one day. Her's quite welldened now." + +Bee smiled a little at Fixie's funny way of speaking, but she thought +to herself it was very nice for him to be such an honest little boy. + +"How do you know she's got well?" said Rosy, rather sharply. + +"Mamma telled me," said Fixie. + +"Yes," said Colin, "it's quite true. And the young lady's father's +going to come to see us some day. I don't remember his name, do you, +Bee?" + +"Not quite," said Bee, "yes, I think it was something like +_furniture_." + +"Furniture," repeated Colin, "it couldn't be that. Was it 'Ferguson'?" + +"No," said Bee, "it wasn't that." + +"Well, never mind," said Colin. "It was something like it. We'll ask +mamma. He is going to come to see us soon. I'm sure of that." + +Later in the day Colin remembered about it, and asked his mother about +it. + +"What was the name of the gentleman that you said was coming to see us +soon, mamma?" he said--"the gentleman whose daughter was so ill in the +ship coming home from India." + +"Mr. Furnivale," replied his mother. "You must remember him and his +daughter, Bee. She is much better now. They have been all these months +in Italy, and they are going to stay there through next winter, but +Mr. Furnivale is in England on business and is coming to see us very +soon. He is a very kind man, and always asks for Fixie and Bee when he +writes." + +"That is very kind of him," said Bee, gratefully. + +But a dark look came over Rosy's face. + +"It's just as if _she_ was mamma's little girl, and not me," she +said to herself. "I hate people mamma knew when Bee was with her and I +wasn't." + +"Mr. Furnivale doesn't know you are with us," Mrs. Vincent went on; +"he will be quite pleased to see you. He says Cecilia has never +forgotten you; Cecilia is his daughter, you know." + +"Yes, I remember _her_ name," said Bee. "I wish she could come to +see us too. She was so pretty, wasn't she, Aunt--Lillias?" she added, +stopping a little and smiling. Lillias was Mrs. Vincent's name, and it +had been fixed that Beata should call her "aunt," for to say "Mrs. +Vincent" sounded rather stiff. "You would think her pretty, Rosy," she +went on again, out of a wish to make Rosy join in what they were +talking of. + +"No," said Rosy, with a sort of burst, "I shouldn't. I don't know +anything about what you're talking of, and I don't want to hear about +it," and she turned away with a very cross and angry face. + +Bee was going to run after her, but Mrs. Vincent stopped her. + +"No," she said. "When she is so very foolish, it is best to leave her +alone." + +But though she said it as if she did not think Rosy's tempers of very +much consequence, Beata saw the sad disappointed look on her face. + +"Oh," thought the little girl, "how I _do_ wish I could do +anything to keep Rosy from vexing her mother." + +It was near bed-time when they had been talking about Mr. Furnivale +and his daughter, and soon after the children all said good-night. +Rather to Bee's surprise, Rosy, who had hidden herself in the window +with a book, came out when she was called and said good-night quite +pleasantly. + +"I wonder she doesn't feel ashamed," thought Bee, "I'm sure I never +spoke like that to my mamma, but if ever I had, I couldn't have said +good-night without saying I was sorry." + +And it was with a slight feeling of self-approval that Beata went up +to bed. When she was undressed she went into the nursery for a moment +to ask Martha to brush her hair. Fixie was not yet asleep, and the +nurse looked troubled. + +"Is Fixie ill?" said Bee. + +"No, I hope not," said Martha, "but he's troubled. Miss Rosy's been in +to say good-night to him, and she's set him off his sleep, I'm sure." + +"I'm so unhappy, Bee," whispered Fixie, when Beata stooped over him to +say good-night. "Losy's been 'peaking to me, and she says nobody loves +her, not _nobody_. She's so unhappy, Bee." + +A little feeling of pain went through Bee. Perhaps Rosy _was_ +really unhappy and sorry for what she had said, though she had not +told any one so. And the thought of it kept Bee from going to sleep as +quickly as usual. "Rosy is so puzzling," she thought. "It is so +difficult to understand her." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER. + + + "Whenever you find your heart despair + Of doing some goodly thing, + Con over this strain, try bravely again, + And remember the spider and king." + --TRY AGAIN. + +She did go to sleep at last, and she slept for a while very soundly. +But suddenly she awoke, awoke quite completely, and with the feeling +that something had awakened her, though what she did not know. She sat +up in bed and looked about her, if you can call staring out into the +dark where you can see nothing "looking about you." It seemed to be a +very dark night; there was no chink of moonlight coming in at the +window, and everything was perfectly still. Beata could not help +wondering what had awakened her, and she was settling herself to sleep +again when a little sound caught her ears. It was a kind of low, +choking cry, as if some one was crying bitterly and trying to stuff +their handkerchief into their mouth, or in some way prevent the sound +being heard. Beata felt at first a very little frightened, and then, +as she became quite sure that it was somebody crying, very sorry and +uneasy. What could be the matter? Was it Fixie? No, the sounds did not +come from the nursery side. Beata sat up in bed to hear more clearly, +and then amidst the crying she distinguished her own name. + +"Bee," said the sobbing voice, "Bee, I wish you'd come to speak to me. +Are you asleep, Bee?" + +In a moment Beata was out of bed, for there was no doubt now whose +voice it was. It was Rosy's. Bee was not a timid child, but the room +was very dark, and it took a little courage to feel her way among the +chairs and tables till at last she found the door, which she opened +and softly went into Rosy's room. For a moment she did not speak, for +a new idea struck her,--could Rosy be crying and talking in her sleep? +It was so very unlike her to cry or ask any one to go to her. There +was no sound as Beata opened the door; she could almost have believed +it had all been her fancy, and for a moment she felt inclined to go +back to her own bed and say nothing. But a very slight sound, a sort +of little sobbing breath that came from Rosy's bed, made her change +her mind. + +"Rosy," she said, softly, "are you awake? Were you speaking to me?" + +She heard a rustle. It was Rosy sitting up in bed. + +"Yes," she said, "I am awake. I've been awake all night. It's dedful +to be awake all night, Bee. I've been calling and calling you. I'm so +unhappy." + +"Unhappy?" said Bee, in a kind voice, going nearer the bed. "What are +you so unhappy about, Rosy?" + +"I'll tell you," said Rosy, "but won't you get into my bed a little, +Bee? There is room, if we scrudge ourselves up. One night Fixie slept +with me, and you're not so very much bigger." + +"I'll get in for a little," said Beata, "just while you tell me what's +the matter, and why you are so unhappy." + +She was quite surprised at Rosy's way of speaking. She seemed so much +gentler and softer, that Bee could not understand it. + +"I'll tell you why I'm so unhappy," said Rosy. "I can't be good, Bee. +I never have cared to be good. It's such a lot of trouble, and lots of +peoples that think they're very good, and that other peoples make a +fuss about, are very pretending. I've noticed that often. But when we +had been talking yesterday morning all of a sudden I thought it would +be nice to be good--not pretending, but _real_ good--never cross, +and all that. And so I fixed I would be quite good, and I thought how +pleased you'd be when I never quarrelled with Colin, or was cross to +Martha, or anything like that. And it was all right for a while; but +then when mamma began talking about Mr. Furniture, and how nice he +was, and his daughter, and you knew all about them and I didn't, it +_all went away_. I told you it would--all the wanting to be +good--and I was as angry as angry. And then I said that, you remember, +and then everybody thought I was just the same, and it was all no +use." + +"Poor Rosy," said Bee. "No, I don't think it was no use." + +"Oh yes," persisted Rosy, "it was all no use. But nobody knew, and I +didn't mean anybody to know. Mamma and Colin and nobody could see I +was sorry when I said good-night--_could_ they?" she said, with a +tone of satisfaction. "No, I didn't mean anybody to know, only after I +was in bed it came back to me, and I was so vexed and so unhappy. I +thought everybody would have been _so_ surprised at finding I +could be just as good as anybody if I liked. But I don't like; so just +remember, Bee, to-morrow morning I'm not going to try a bit, and it's +no use saying any more about it. It's just the way I'm made." + +"But you do care, Rosy," said Bee, "I know you care. If you didn't you +wouldn't have been thinking about it, and been sorry after you were in +bed." + +"Yes, I _did_ care," said Rosy, with again a little sob. "I had +been thinking it would be very nice, But I'm not going to care--that's +just the thing, Bee--that's what I wanted to tell you--I'm not going +to go on caring." + +"Don't you always say your prayers, Rosy?" asked Bee, rather solemnly. + +"Yes, _of course_ I do. But I don't think they're much good. I've +been just as naughty some days when I'd said them _beautifully_, +as some days when I'd been in a hurry." + +Beata felt puzzled. + +"I can't explain about it properly," she said. "But that isn't the +way, I don't think. Mother told me if I thought just saying my prayers +would make me good, it was like thinking they were a kind of magic, +and that isn't what we should think them." + +"What good are they then?" said Rosy. + +"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee. +"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives +us a sort of feeling that _He_, you know, Rosy, that God is +smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's _always_ +ready to help us." + +"_Is_ He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser +about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do +make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good." + +"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not +good and you don't care. But I think you _do_ care, only," with a +sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot." + +"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly. + +"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that +you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But +please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. _Do_ go on. It will get +easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the +piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier +for the next time." + +"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone. +"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning +what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again +to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to +be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the +naughty ones you could keep out of my way." + +"It wouldn't do at all," said Bee, decidedly. "It would be like going +up two steps and then tumbling back two steps. No, it would be worse, +it would be like going up two and tumbling back three, for every +naughty day would make it still harder to begin again on the good +day." + +"Well, I won't do that way, then," said Rosy, with wonderful +gentleness. "I'll either _go on_ trying to climb up the steps--how +funnily you say things, Bee!--or I'll not try at all. I'll tell you +to-morrow morning. But remember you're not to tell anybody. +If I fix to be good I want everybody to be surprised." + +"But you won't get good all of a sudden, Rosy," said Bee, feeling +afraid that Rosy would again lose heart at the first break-down. + +"Well, I daresay I won't," returned Rosy. "But don't you see if nobody +but you knows it won't so much matter. But if I was to tell everybody +then it would all seem pretending, and there's nothing so horrid as +pretending." + +There was some sense in Rosy's ideas, and Bee did not go against them. +She went back to her own bed with a curious feeling of respect for +Rosy and a warm feeling of affection also. + +"And it was very horrid of me to be thinking of her that way +to-night," said honest Bee to herself. "I'll never think of her that +way again. Poor Rosy, she has had no mother all these years that I've +had my mother doing nothing but trying to make me good. But I am so +glad Rosy is getting to like me." + +For Rosy had kissed her warmly as they bade each other good-night for +the second time. + +"It was very nice of Bee to get out of bed in the dark to come to me," +she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is +pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's +friendship for Beata--_trust_. + +The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for +they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling +and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the +beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice +calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of +their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able +to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face +did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came +into the nursery. + +"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't +settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it." + +Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once +or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as +necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented +herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and +sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went +further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the +back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the +little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and +really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a +little scream, it is true--who could have helped it?--and then rushed +out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that +were running down her cheeks. + +"Colin," said Bee, and, for a moment or two, it almost seemed to the +boy as if Rosy's temper had passed into the quiet little girl, "I am +ashamed of you. You naughty, _cruel_ boy, just when poor Rosy +was----" + +She stopped suddenly--"just when poor Rosy was beginning to try to be +good," she was going to have said, forgetting her promise to tell no +one of Rosy's plans,--"just when we were all quiet and comfortable," +she said instead. + +Colin looked ashamed. + +"I won't do it any more," he said, "I won't really. Besides there's no +fun in only making her cry. It was only fun when it put her into a +rage." + +"Nice _fun_," said Bee, with scorn. + +"Well, you know what I mean. I daresay it wasn't right, but I never +meant really to hurt her. And all the fellows at school tease like +that--one can't help getting into the way of it." + +"I never heard such a foolish way of talking," answered Bee, who was +for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for +doing wrong things--that other people do them.'" + +"It's bad example--the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely +that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have +answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, +which put her on her guard. + +"You are trying to tease _me_ now, Colin," she said. "Well, I +don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone--any way for a +few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, +won't you?" + +She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her +honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease +me"--she went on--"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody." + +Colin could not help laughing. + +"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far +too good-natured. Well, I will promise you--I'll promise you more than +you ask--listen, what a grand promise--I'll promise you not to tease +Rosy for three whole months--now, what do you say to that, ma'am?" + +Bee's eyes glistened. + +"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. +Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to +tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me +about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it +wouldn't do half as well." + +"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went +on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I +promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to +school for three months." + +"_Are_ you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. +I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I +first came, you know." + +"Yes; and your lessons--yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a +little too--they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having +holidays just now." + +"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata. + +"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but +it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short." + +"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having +still another stranger to make friends with. + +"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy--she's afraid of her +tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy +is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee." + +"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In +three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said +again, smiling. + +"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee +thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, +for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good +plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, +and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad. + +Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the +other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked +at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about +_me_?" her look seemed to say. + +"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard +about her before." + +"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully. + +"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata. + +"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for +her--much. She's rather pretending." + +"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said +Bee. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that." + +"But if they _are_ pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy. + +Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue. + +"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's +way, for she thinks it of everybody." + +"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not _everybody_." + +"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some +people good who aren't good than think some people who _are_ good +_not_ good--wouldn't you, Bee?" + +Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin +meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always +very quick at doing so. + +"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there _are_ lots of +very kind and good people in the world--really kind and good, not +pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling +kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite +knowing how sometimes." + +Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in +saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I +think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want +_anybody_ to know--you remember, don't you?" + +"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody +will find out for themselves, without _my_ telling." + +And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they +fell asleep that night. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + "Multiplication's my vexation, + Division is as bad." + +Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. +The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he +had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the +little girls' lessons began. + +"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning. + +"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said. + +It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not +manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand +why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody +that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without +really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of +being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any +way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to +her. + +"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun +again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic." + +"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you +are grown-up if you cannot count--everybody needs to know how to +count, or else they can't manage their money." + +"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody +must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink." + +Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, +pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did +Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said +nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident. + +Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. +But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy +threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again. + +"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums--you'll +see." + +"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off +giving us sums for always." + +"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. _I_ won't do them." + +"I will," said Bee. + +"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?" + +"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if +she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning +arithmetic any more." + +"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very +fierce. + +"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me +to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell +your mother." + +"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. +"That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, +when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those +_horrible_ sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and +what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie +just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her +tempers off before her little brother. + +Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that +Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day +passed quietly. But the next morning it was the same thing. When they +came to the time at which they usually had their arithmetic, Rosy +looked up at Miss Pink with a determined air. + +"No arithmetic, Miss Pink, you know," she said. + +Miss Pink gave a sort of little laugh. + +"My dear Rosy," she said, "you are so very comical! Come now, get your +slate--see there is dear Beata all ready with hers. You shall not have +very hard sums to-day, I promise you." + +"Miss Pink," said Rosy, "I won't do _any_ sums. I told you so +yesterday, and you know I mean what I say. If Bee chooses to tell +tales, she may, but _I_ won't do any sums." + +Miss Pink looked from one to the other. + +"There is no use my doing sums without Rosy," said Bee. "We are at the +same place and it would put everything wrong." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink. "I cannot give you separate lessons. It would +put everything wrong. But I'm sure you're only joking, Rosy dear. We +won't say anything about the sums to-day, and then to-morrow we'll go +on regularly again, and dear Beata will see it will all be right." + +"No," said Rosy, "it won't be all right if you try to make me do any +sums to-morrow or any day." + +Bee said nothing. She did not know what to say. She could hardly +believe Rosy was the same little girl as the Rosy whom she had heard +crying in the night, who had made her so happy by talking about trying +to be good. And how many days the silly dispute might have gone on, +there is no telling, had it not happened that the very next morning, +just as they came to the time for the arithmetic lesson, the door +opened and Mrs. Vincent came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Pinkerton," she said. "I've come to see how you +are all getting on,"--for Miss Pinkerton did not live in the house, +she only came every morning at nine o'clock--"you don't find your new +pupil _very_ troublesome, I hope?" she went on, with a smile at +Beata. + +"Oh dear, no! oh, certainly not," said Miss Pinkerton nervously; "oh +dear, no--Miss Beata is very good indeed. Everything's very nice--oh +we're very happy, thank you--dear Rosy and dear Beata and I." + +"I am very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Vincent, but she spoke rather +gravely, for on coming into the room it had not looked to her as if +everything _was_ "very nice." Beata looked grave and troubled, +Miss Pinkerton flurried, and there was a black cloud on Rosy's face +that her mother knew only too well. "What lessons are you at now?" she +went on. + +"Oh, ah!" began Miss Pinkerton, fussing among some of the books that +lay on the table. "We've just finished a chapter of our English +history, and--and--I was thinking of giving the dear children a +dictation." + +"It's not the time for dictation," said Rosy. And then to Bee's +surprise she burst out, "Miss Pink, I wonder how you can tell such +stories! Everything is not quite nice, mamma, for I've just been +telling Miss Pink I won't do any sums, and it's just the time for +sums. I wouldn't do them yesterday, and I won't do them to-day, or any +day, because I hate them." + +"You 'won't' and you 'wouldn't,' Rosy," said her mother, so sternly +and coldly that Bee trembled for her, though Rosy gave no signs of +trembling for herself. "Is that a way in which I can allow you to +speak? You must apologise to Miss Pinkerton, and tell her you will be +ready to do _any_ lessons she gives you, or you must go upstairs +to your own room." + +"I'll go upstairs to my own room then," said Rosy at once. "I'd +'pologise to you, mamma, if you like, but I won't to Miss Pink, +because she doesn't say what's true." + +"Rosy, be silent," said her mother again. And then, turning to Miss +Pinkerton, she added in a very serious tone, "Miss Pinkerton, I do not +wish to appear to find fault with you, but I must say that you should +have told me of all this before. It is most mistaken kindness to Rosy +to hide her disobedience and rudeness, and it makes things much more +difficult for me. I am _particularly_ sorry to have to punish +Rosy to-day, for I have just heard that a friend is coming to see us +who would have liked to find all the children good and happy." + +Rosy's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Beata was on the point of +breaking in with a request that Rosy might be forgiven, but something +in Mrs. Vincent's look stopped her. Miss Pinkerton grew very red and +looked very unhappy--almost as if she was going to cry. + +"I'm--I'm very sorry--very distressed. But I thought dear Rosy was +only joking, and that it would be all right in a day or two. I'm sure, +dear Rosy, you'll tell your mamma that you did not mean what you said, +and that you'll do your best to do your sums nicely--now won't you, +dear?" + +"No," said Rosy, in a hard, cold tone, "I won't. And you might know by +this time, Miss Pink, that I always mean what I say. I'm not like +you." + +After this there was nothing for it but to send Rosy up to her own +room. Mrs. Vincent told Miss Pinkerton to finish the morning lessons +with Beata, and then left the schoolroom. + +Bee was very unhappy, and Miss Pink by this time was in tears. + +"She's so naughty--so completely spoilt;" she said. "I really don't +think I can go on teaching her. She's not like you, dear Beata. How +happily and peacefully we could go on doing our lessons--you and +I--without that self-willed Rosy." + +Bee looked very grave. + +"Miss Pink," she said, "I don't like you to speak like that at all. +You don't say to Rosy to her face that you think her so naughty, and +so I don't think you should say it to me. I think it would be better +if you said to Rosy herself what you think." + +"I couldn't," said Miss Pink. "There would be no staying with her if I +didn't give in to her. And I don't want to lose this engagement, for +it's so near my home, and my mother is so often ill. And Mr. and Mrs. +Vincent have been very kind--very kind indeed." + +"I think Rosy would like you better if you told her right out what you +think," said Bee, who couldn't help being sorry for Miss Pinkerton +when she spoke of her mother being ill. And Miss Pink was really +kind-hearted, only she did not distinguish between weak indulgence and +real sensible kindness. + +When lessons were over Mrs. Vincent called Bee to come and speak to +her. + +"It is Mr. Furnivale who is coming to see us to-day," she said. "It is +for that I am so particularly sorry for Rosy to be again in disgrace. +And she has been so much gentler and more obedient lately, I am really +_very_ disappointed, and I cannot help saying so to you, Bee, +though I don't want you to be troubled about Rosy." + +"I do think Rosy wants--" began Bee, and then she stopped, remembering +her promise. "Don't you think she will be sorry now?" she said. "Might +I go and ask her?" + +"No, dear, I think you had better not," said Mrs. Vincent. "I will see +her myself in a little while. Yes, I believe she is sorry, but she +won't let herself say so." + +Beata felt sad and dull without Rosy; for the last few days had really +passed happily. And Rosy shut up in her own room was thinking with a +sort of bitter vexation rather than sorrow of how quickly her +resolutions had all come to nothing. + +"It's not my fault," she kept saying to herself, "it's all Miss +Pink's. She knew I hated sums--that horrid kind of long rows worst of +all--and she just gave me them on purpose; and then when I said I +wouldn't do them, she went on coaxing and talking nonsense--that way +that just _makes_ me naughtier. I'd rather do sums all day than +have her talk like that--and then to go and tell stories to mamma--I +hate her, nasty, pretending thing. It's all her fault; and then she'll +be going on praising Bee, and making everybody think how good Bee is +and how naughty I am. I wish Bee hadn't come. I didn't mind it so much +before. I wonder if _she_ told mamma as she said she would, and +if that was why mamma came in to the schoolroom this morning. I +_wonder_ if Bee could be so mean;" and in this new idea Rosy +almost forgot her other troubles. "If Bee did do it I shall never +forgive her--never," she went on to herself; "I wouldn't have minded +her doing it right out, as she said she would, but to go and tell +mamma that sneaky way, and get her to come into the room just at that +minute, no, I'll never--" + +A knock at the door interrupted her, and then before she had time to +answer, she heard her mother's voice outside. "I'll take it in myself, +thank you, Martha," she was saying, and in a moment Mrs. Vincent came +in, carrying the glass of milk and dry biscuit which the children +always had at twelve, as they did not have dinner till two o'clock +with their father's and mother's luncheon. + +"Here is your milk, Rosy," said her mother, gravely, as she put it +down on the table. "Have you anything to say to me?" + +Rosy looked at her mother. + +"Mamma," she said, quickly, "will you tell me one thing? Was it Bee +that made you come into the schoolroom just at sums time? Was it +because of her telling you what I had said that you came?" + +Mrs. Vincent in her turn looked at Rosy. Many mothers would have +refused to answer--would have said it was not Rosy's place to begin +asking questions instead of begging to be forgiven for their naughty +conduct; but Rosy's mother was different from many. She knew that Rosy +was a strange character to deal with; she hoped and believed that in +her real true heart her little girl _did_ feel how wrong she was; +and she wished, oh, how earnestly, to _help_ the little plant of +goodness to grow, not to crush it down by too much sternness. And in +Rosy's face just now she read a mixture of feelings. + +"No, Rosy," she answered very gently, but so that Rosy never for one +instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not +said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then +quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy--you +seem to trust no one--not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee." + +Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad +to find Bee what she had always been--not to be obliged to keep to her +terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her +_worst_ self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that +her suspicions had no ground. + +"Bee _said_ she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she +said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you." + +"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother. +"You _know_ she would never have tried to get you into disgrace +in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must +tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I +will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of +ours--of your father's and mine----" + +"Mr. Furniture!" exclaimed Rosy, forgetting her tempers in the +excitement of the news. + +"Yes, Mr. Furnivale," said her mother, and she could not keep back a +little smile; "he is coming this afternoon. It would be punishing not +only you, but your father and Bee and myself--all of us indeed--if we +had to tell our old friend the moment he arrived that our Rosy was in +disgrace. So you may go now and ask Martha to dress you neatly. Mr. +Furnivale _may_ be here by luncheon-time, and no more will be +said about this unhappy morning. But Rosy, listen--I trust to your +honour to try to behave so as to please me. I will say no more about +your arithmetic lessons; will you act so as to show me I have not been +foolish in forgiving you?" + +The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she +was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her +mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were +not very far off, + +"Mamma, I _do_ thank you. I will try. I will do my sums as much +as you like to-morrow, only--" + +"Only what, Rosy?" + +"Can you tell Miss Pink that it is to please _you_ I want to do +them, not to please _her_, mamma--she isn't like you. I don't +believe what she says." + +"I will tell Miss Pink that you want to please me certainly, but you +must see, Rosy, that obeying her, doing the lessons she gives you by +my wish, _is_ pleasing me," said her mother, though at the same +time in her own mind she determined to have a little talk with Miss +Pink privately. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I know that." + +She spoke gently, and her mother felt happier about her little girl +than for long. + +Mr. Furnivale did arrive in time for luncheon. He had just come when +the little girls and Fixie went down to the drawing-room at the sound +of the first gong. He came forward to meet the children with kindly +interest in his face. + +"Well, Fixie, my boy, and how are you?" he said, lifting the fragile +little figure in his arms. "Why, I think you are a little bit fatter +and a little bit rosier than this time last year. And this is your +sister that I _don't_ know," he went on, turning to Rosy, +"and--why, bless my soul! here's another old friend--my busy Bee. I +had no idea Mrs. Warwick had left her with you," he exclaimed to Mrs. +Vincent. + +Mrs. Warwick was Beata's mother. I don't think I have before told you +Bee's last name. + +"I was just going to tell you about it, when the children came in," +said Rosy's mother. "I knew Cecilia would be so glad to know Bee was +with us, and not at school, when her poor grandmother grew too ill to +have her." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Furnivale, "Cecy will be glad to hear it. She +had no idea of it. And so when you all come to pay us that famous +visit we have been talking about, Bee must come too--eh, Bee?" + +Bee's eyes sparkled. She liked kind, old Mr. Furnivale, and she had +been very fond of his pretty daughter. + +"Is Cecy much better?" she asked, in her gentle little voice. + +"_Much_ better. We're hoping to come back to settle in England +before long, and have a nice house like yours, and then you are all to +come to see us," said Mr. Furnivale. + +They went on talking for a few minutes about these pleasant plans, and +in the interest of hearing about Cecilia Furnivale, and hearing all +her messages, Rosy, who had never seen her, and who was quite a +stranger to her father too, was naturally left a little in the +background. It was quite enough to put her out again. + +"I might just as well have been left upstairs in my own room," she +said to herself. "Nobody notices me--nobody cares whether I am here or +not. _I_ won't go to stay with that ugly old man and his stupid +daughter, just to be always put behind Bee." + +And when Beata, with a slight feeling that Rosy might be feeling +herself neglected, and full of pleasure, too, at Mrs. Vincent's having +forgiven her, slipped behind the others and took Rosy's hand in hers, +saying brightly, "_Won't_ it be nice to go and stay with them, +Rosy?" Rosy pulled away her hand roughly, and, looking very cross, +went back to her old cry. + +"I wish you'd leave me alone, Bee. I hate that sort of pretending. You +know quite well nobody would care whether _I_ went or not." + +And poor Bee drew back quite distressed, and puzzled again by Rosy's +changeableness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT. + + + "And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than these." + --SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. + +"Your little girl is very pretty, unusually pretty," Mr. Furnivale was +saying to Rosy's mother, as he sat beside her on the sofa during the +few minutes they were waiting for luncheon, "and she looks so strong +and well." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincent, "she is very strong. I am glad you think her +pretty," she went on. "It is always difficult to judge of one's own +children, I think, or indeed of any face you see constantly. I thought +Rosy very pretty, I must confess, when I first saw her again after our +three years' separation, but now I don't think I could judge." + +Mrs. Vincent gave a little sigh as she spoke, which made Mr. Furnivale +wonder what she was troubled about. The truth was that she was +thinking to herself how little she would care whether Rosy was pretty +or not, if only she could feel more happy about her really trying to +be a good little girl. + +"Your little girl was with Miss Vincent while you were away, was she +not?" said Mr. Furnivale. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother, "her aunt is very fond of her. She gave +herself immense trouble for Rosy's sake." + +"By-the-bye, she is coming to see you soon, is she not?" said Mr. +Furnivale. "She is, as of course you know, an old friend of ours, and +she writes often to ask how Cecy is. And in her last letter she said +she hoped to come to see you soon." + +"I have not heard anything decided about it," replied Mrs. Vincent. "I +had begun to think she would not come this year--she was speaking of +going to some seaside place." + +"Ah, but I rather think she has changed her mind, then," said Mr. +Furnivale, and then he went on to talk of something else to him of +more importance. But poor Mrs. Vincent was really troubled. + +"I should not mind Edith herself coming," she said to herself. "She is +_really_ good and kind, and I think I could make her understand +how cruel it is to spoil Rosy. But it is the maid--that Nelson--I +cannot like or trust her, and I believe she did Rosy more harm than +all her aunt's over-indulgence. And Edith is so fond of her; I cannot +say anything against her," for Miss Vincent was an invalid, and very +dependent on this maid. + +Little Beata noticed that during luncheon Rosy's mother looked +troubled, and it made her feel sorry. Rosy perhaps would have noticed +it too, had she not been so very much taken up with her own fancied +troubles. She was running full-speed into one of her cross jealous +moods, and everything that was said or done, she took the wrong way. +Her father helped Bee before her--that, she could not but allow was +right, as Bee was a guest--but now it seemed to her that he chose the +nicest bits for Bee, with a care he never showed in helping her. Rosy +was not the least greedy--she would have been ready and pleased to +give away anything, _so long_ as she got the credit of it, and +was praised and thanked, but to be treated second-best in the way in +which she chose to imagine she was being treated--_that_, she +could not and would not stand. She sat through luncheon with a black +look on her pretty face; so that Mr. Furnivale, whom she was beside, +found her much less pleasant to talk to than Bee opposite, though Bee +herself was less bright and merry than usual. + +Mrs. Vincent felt glad that no more was said about Aunt Edith's +coming. She felt that she did not wish Rosy to hear of it, and yet she +did not like to ask Mr. Furnivale not to mention it, as it seemed +ungrateful to think or speak of a visit from Miss Vincent except with +pleasure. After luncheon, when they were again in the drawing-room, +Mr. Furnivale came up to her with a small parcel in his hand. + +"I am so sorry," he began, with a little hesitation, "I am so sorry +that I did not know Beata Warwick was with you. Cecy had no idea of +it, and she begged me to give _your_ little girl this present we +bought for her in Venice, and now I don't half like giving it to the +one little woman when I have nothing for the other." + +He opened the parcel as he spoke; it contained a quaint-looking little +box, which in its turn, when opened, showed a necklace of glass beads +of every imaginable colour. They were not very large--each bead +perhaps about the size of a pea--of a large pea, that is to say. And +some of them were long, not thicker, but twice as long as the others. +I can scarcely tell you how pretty they were. Every one was different, +and they were beautifully arranged so that the colours came together +in the prettiest possible way. One was pale blue with little tiny +flowers, pink or rose-coloured raised upon it; one was white with a +sort of rainbow glistening of every colour through it; two or three +were black, but with a different tracery, gold or red or bright green, +on each; and some were a kind of mixture of colours and patterns which +seemed to change as you looked at them, so that you could _fancy_ +you saw flowers, or figures, or tiny landscapes even, which again +disappeared--and no two the same. + +"Oh how lovely," exclaimed Rosy's mother, "how very, very pretty." + +"Yes," said Mr. Furnivale, "they _are_ pretty. And they are now +rare. These are really old, and the imitation ones, which they make in +plenty, are not half so curious. Cecy thought they would take a +child's fancy." + +"More than a _child's_," said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. "I think +they are lovely--and what a pretty ornament they will be--fancy them +on a white dress!" + +"I am only sorry I have not two of them," said Mr. Furnivale, "or at +least _something_ else for the other little girl. You would not +wish me, I suppose, to give the necklace to Beata instead of to Rosy?" +he added. + +Now Mrs. Vincent's own feeling was almost that she _would_ better +like it to be given to Beata. She was very unselfish, and her natural +thought was that in anything of the kind, Bee, the little stranger, +the child in her care, whose mother was so far away, should come +first. But there was more to think of than this feeling of hers-- + +"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to +let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that +terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo +the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply +and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw +the children still more together." + +So she looked up at Mr. Furnivale with her pretty honest eyes--Rosy's +eyes were honest too--and like her mother's when she was sweet and +good--and said frankly, + +"You won't think me selfish I am sure--I think you will believe that I +do it from good motives--when I ask you not to change, but still to +give it to Rosy. I will take care that little Bee does not suffer for +it in the end." + +"And I too," said Mr. Furnivale, "If I _can_ find another +necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send +it--indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for +one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did +buy it for your own little girl." + +"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr. +Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the +lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy. + +"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked +towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and +Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were +playing, I should have said Beata and Felix--not Rosy). "I daresay she +will be going to scold me, now luncheon's over. I wish that ugly old +Mr. Furniture would go away," for all the cross, angry, jealous +thoughts had come back to poor Rosy since she had taken it into her +head again about Bee being put before her, and all her good wishes and +plans, which had grown stronger through her mother's gentleness, had +again flown away, like a flock of frightened white doves, looking back +at her with sad eyes as they flew. + +Rosy's good angel, however, was very patient with her that day. Again +she was to be tried with _kindness_ instead of harshness; surely +this time it would succeed. + +"Rosy dear," said her mother, quite brightly, for she had not noticed +Rosy's cross looks at dinner, and she felt a natural pleasure in the +thought of her child's pleasure, "Mr. Furnivale--or perhaps I should +say _Miss_ Furnivale--whom we all speak of as "Cecy," you know, +has sent you such a pretty present. See, dear--you have never, I +think, had anything so pretty," and she held up the lovely beads +before Rosy's dazzled eyes. + +"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed the little girl, her whole face lighting +up, "O mamma, how very pretty! And they are for _me_. Oh, how +very kind of Miss Furni--of Miss Cecy," she went on, turning to the +old gentleman, "Will you please thank her for me _very_ much?" + +No one could look prettier or sweeter than Rosy at this moment, and +Mr. Furnivale began to think he had been mistaken in thinking the +little Vincent girl a much less lovable child than his old friend +Beata Warwick. + +"How very, very pretty," she repeated, touching the beads softly with +her little fingers. And then with a sudden change she turned to her +mother. + +"Is there a necklace for Bee, too?" she said. + +Mrs. Vincent's first feeling was of pleasure that Rosy should think of +her little friend, but there was in the child's face a look that made +her not sure that the question _was_ quite out of kindness to +Bee, and the mother's voice was a little grave and sad, as she +answered. + +"No, Rosy. There is not one for Bee. Mr. Furnivale brought it for you +only." + +Then Rosy's face was a curious study. There was a sort of pleasure in +it--and this, I must truly say, was not pleasure that Bee had +_not_ a present also, for Rosy was not greedy or even selfish in +the common way, but it was pleasure at being put first, and joined to +this pleasure was a nice honest sorrow that Bee was left out. Now that +Rosy was satisfied that she herself was properly treated she found +time to think of Bee. And though the necklace had been six times as +pretty, though it had been all pearls or diamonds, it would not have +given Mrs. Vincent half the pleasure that this look of real unselfish +sorrow in Rosy's face sent through her heart. More still, when the +little girl, bending to her mother, whispered softly, + +"Mamma, would it be right of me to give it to Bee? I wouldn't mind +very much." + +"No, darling, no; but I am _very_ glad you thought of it. We will +do something to make up for it to Bee." And she added aloud, + +"Mr. Furnivale may _perhaps_ be able to get one something like it +for Bee, when he goes back to Italy." + +"Then I may show it to her. It won't be unkind to show it her?" asked +Rosy. And when her mother said "No, it would not be unkind," feeling +sure, with her faith in Bee's goodness that Rosy's pleasure would be +met with the heartiest sympathy--for "sympathy," dears, can be shown +to those about us in their joys as well as in their sorrows--Rosy ran +off in the highest spirits. Mr. Furnivale smiled as he saw her +delight, and Mrs. Vincent was, oh so pleased to be able to tell him, +that Rosy, of herself, had offered to give it to Bee, that that was +what she had been whispering about. + +"Not that Beata would have been willing to take it," she added, "she +is the most unselfish child possible." + +[Illustration: 'DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?' ROSY +REPEATED.] + +"And unselfishness is sometimes, catching, luckily for poor human +nature," said the old gentleman, laughing. And Mrs. Vincent laughed +too--the whole world seemed to have grown brighter to her since the +little gleam she believed she had had of true gold at the bottom of +Rosy's wayward little heart. + +And Rosy ran gleefully off to her friend. + +"Bee, Bee," she cried, "stop playing, do. I have something to show +you. And you too, Fixie, you may come and see it if you like. See," as +the two children ran up to her breathlessly, and she opened the box, +"see," and she held up the lovely necklace, lovelier than ever as it +glittered in the sunshine, every colour seeming to mix in with the +others and yet to stand out separate in the most beautiful way. "Did +you _ever_ see anything so pretty, Bee?" Rosy repeated. + +"_Never_," said Beata, with her whole heart in her voice. + +"Nebber," echoed Fixie, his blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual. + +"And is it _yours_, Rosy?" asked Bee. + +"Yes mine, my very own. Mr. Furniture brought it me from--from +somewhere. I don't remember the name of the place, but I know it's +somewhere in the country that's the shape of a boot." + +"Italy," said Bee, whose geography was not quite so hazy as Rosy's. + +"Yes, I suppose it's Italy, but I don't care where it came from as +long as I've got it. Oh, isn't it lovely? I may wear it for best. +Won't it be pretty with a quite white frock? And, Bee, they said +something, but perhaps I shouldn't tell." + +"Don't tell it then," said Bee, whose whole attention was given to the +necklace. "O Rosy, I _am_ so glad you've got such a pretty thing. +Don't you feel happy?" and she looked up with such pleasure in her +eyes that Rosy's heart was touched. + +"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the +least bit vexed, Bee, that _you_ haven't got it, or at least that +you haven't got one like it?" + +Beata looked up with real surprise. + +"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy +dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of +such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not +my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll +let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads +gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours! +Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?" + +"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly _pitty_. I could fancy I saw +fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly +kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them." + +"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of +calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and +the corners of his mouth went down. + +"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try +some day and see if we can hear any stories--any way we could fancy +them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I +think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right. +Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your +mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't _think_ how pretty it looks." + +Off ran the three children, and Mrs. Vincent, as she saw them coming, +was pleased to see, as she expected, the brightness of Rosy's face +reflected in Beata's. + +"Mother," whispered Rosy, "I didn't say anything to Bee about her +perhaps getting one too. It was better not, wasn't it? It would be +nicer to be a surprise." + +"Yes, I think it would. Any way it is better to say nothing about it +just yet, as we are not at all _sure_ of it, you know. Does Bee +think the beads very pretty, Rosy?" + +"_Very_," said Rosy, "but she isn't the least _bit_ vexed +for me to have them and not her. She's _quite_ happy, mamma." + +"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Vincent, "and so are you, my Rosy, +when you let yourself _be_ your best self. Rosy," she went on, "I +have a sort of feeling that this pretty necklace will be a kind of +_talisman_ to you--perhaps it is silly of me to say it, but the +idea came into my mind--I was so glad that you offered to give it up +to Bee, and I am so glad for you really to see for yourself how sweet +and unselfish Bee is about it. Do you know what a talisman is?" + +"Yes, mamma," said Rosy, with great satisfaction. "Papa explained it +to me one day when I read it in a book. It is a kind of charm, isn't +it, mamma?--a kind of nice fairy charm. You mean that I should be so +pleased with the necklace, mamma, that it should make me feel happy +and good whenever I see it, and that I should remember, too, how nice +Bee has been about it." + +"Yes, dear," said her mother. "If it makes you feel like that, it +_will_ be a talisman." + +And feeling remarkably pleased with herself and everybody else, Rosy +ran off. + +Mr. Furnivale left the next day, but not without promises of another +visit before very long. + +"When Cecy will come with you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"And give her my bestest love," said Fixie. + +"Yes, indeed, my little man," said Mr. Furnivale, "and I'll tell her +too that she would scarcely know you again--so fat and rosy!" + +"And my love, please," said Beata, "I would _so_ like to see her +again." + +"And mine," added Rosy. "And please tell her how _dreadfully_ +pleased I am with the beads." + +And then the kind old gentleman drove away. + +For some time after this it really seemed as if Rosy's mother's half +fanciful idea was coming true. There was such a great improvement in +Rosy--she seemed so much happier in herself, and to care so much more +about making other people happy too. + +"I really think the necklace _is_ a talisman," said Mrs. Vincent, +laughing, to Rosy's father one day. + +Not that Rosy always wore it. It was kept for dress occasions, but to +her great delight her mother let her take care of it herself, instead +of putting it away with the gold chain and locket her aunt had given +her on her last birthday, and the pearl ring her other godmother had +sent her, which was much too large for her small fingers at present, +and her ivory-bound prayer-book, and various other treasures to be +enjoyed by her when she should be "a big girl." And many an hour the +children amused themselves with the lovely beads, examining them till +they knew every one separately. They even, I believe, had a name for +each, and Fixie had a firm belief that inside each crystal ball a +little fairy dwelt, and that every moonlight night all these fairies +came out and danced about Rosy's room, though he never could manage to +keep awake to see them. + +Altogether, there was no end to the pretty fancies and amusement which +the children got from "Mr. Furniture's present." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HARD TO BEAR. + + + "Give unto me, made lowly-wise, + The spirit of self-sacrifice." + --ODE TO DUTY. + +For some weeks things went on very happily. Of course there were +little troubles among the children sometimes, but compared with a +while ago the nursery was now a very comfortable and peaceful place. + +Martha was quietly pleased, but she had too much sense to say much +about it. Miss Pink was so delighted, that if Bee had not been a +modest and sensible little girl, Miss Pink's over praise of her, as +the cause of all this improvement, might have undone all the good. Not +that Miss Pink was not ready to praise Rosy too, and in a way that +would have done her no good either, if Rosy had cared enough for her +to think much of her praise or her blame. But one word or look even +from her mother was getting to be more to Rosy than all the +good-natured little governess's chatter; a nice smile from Martha +even, she felt to mean _really_ more, and one of Beata's sweet, +bright kisses would sometimes find its way straight to Rosy's queerly +hidden-away heart. + +"You see, Rosy, it _does_ get easier," Bee ventured to say one +day. She looked up a little anxiously to see how Rosy would take it, +for since the night she had found Rosy sobbing in bed they had never +again talked together quite so openly. Indeed, Rosy was not a person +whose confidence was easy to gain. But she was honest--that was the +best of her. + +She looked up quickly when Bee spoke. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it's getting easier. But you see, Bee, there +have only been nice things lately. If anything was to come to vex me +very much, I daresay it would be just like it used to be again. +There's not even been Colin to tease me for a long time!" + +Rosy's way of talking of herself puzzled Bee, though she couldn't +quite explain it. It was right, she knew, for Rosy not to feel too +sure of herself, but still she went too far that way. She almost +talked as if she had nothing to do with her own faults, that they must +come or not come like rainy days. + +"What are you thinking, Bee?" she said, as Bee did not answer at once. + +"I can't tell you quite how I mean, for I don't know it myself," said +Bee. "Only I think you are a little wrong. You should try to say, 'If +things come to vex me, I'll _try_ not to be vexed.'" + +Rosy shook her head. + +"No," she said, "I can't say that, for I don't think I should +_want_ to try," and Beata felt she could not say any more, only +she very much hoped that things to vex Rosy would _not_ come! + +The first thing at all out of the common that did come was, or was +going to be, perhaps I should say, a very nice thing. A note came one +day to Rosy's mother to say that a lady, a friend of hers living a few +miles off, wanted to see her, to talk over a plan she had in her head +for a birthday treat to her two little daughters. These two children +were twins; they were a little younger than Rosy, and she did not know +them _very_ well, as they lived some way off; but Mrs. Vincent +had often wished they could meet oftener, as they were very nice and +good children. + +And when Lady Esther had been, and had had her talk with Rosy's +mother, she looked in at the schoolroom a moment in passing, and +kissed the little girls, smiling, and seeming very pleased, for she +was so kind that nothing pleased her so much as to give pleasure to +others. + +"Your mother will tell you what we have been settling," she said, +nodding her head and looking very mysterious. + +And that afternoon Mrs. Vincent told the children all about it. Lady +Esther was going to have a fete for the twins' birthday--a +garden-fete, for it was to be hoped by that time the weather could be +counted upon, and all the children were to have fancy dresses! That +was to be the best fun of it all. Not very grand or expensive dresses, +and nothing which would make them uncomfortable, or prevent their +running about freely. Lady Esther's idea was that the children should +be dressed in _sets_, which would look very pretty when they came +into the big hall to dance before leaving. Lady Esther had proposed +that Rosy and Bee should be dressed as the pretty French queen, Marie +Antoinette, whom no doubt you have heard of, and her sister-in-law the +good princess, Madame Elizabeth. Fixie was to be the little prince, +and Lady Esther's youngest little girl the young princess, while the +twins were to be two maids of honour. But Rosy's mother had said she +would like better for her little girls to be the maids of honour, and +the twins to be the queen and princess, which seemed quite right, as +the party was to be in their house. And so it was settled. + +A few days later Lady Esther sent over sketches of the dresses she +proposed to have, and the children were greatly pleased and +interested. + +"May I wear my beads, mamma?" asked Rosy. + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"I daresay you can," she said, and Rosy clapped her hands with +delight, and everything seemed as happy as possible. + +"But remember," said Mrs. Vincent, "it is still quite a month off. Do +not talk or think about it _too_ much, or you will tire yourselves +out in fancy before the real pleasure comes." + +This was good advice. Bee tried to follow it by doing her lessons as +usual, and giving the same attention to them. But Rosy, with some of +her old self-will, would not leave off talking about the promised +treat. She was tiresome and careless at her lessons, and Miss Pink was +not firm enough to check her. Morning, noon, and night, Rosy went on +about the fete, most of all about the dresses, till Bee sometimes +wished the birthday treat had never been thought of, or at least that +Rosy had never been told of it. + +One morning when the children came down to see Mr. and Mrs. Vincent at +their breakfast, which they often were allowed to do, though they +still had their own breakfast earlier than the big people, in the +nursery with Martha, Beata noticed that Rosy's mother looked grave and +rather troubled. Bee took no notice of it, however, except that when +she kissed her, she said softly, + +"Are you not quite well, auntie?" for so Rosy's mother liked her to +call her. + +"Oh yes, dear, I am quite well," she answered, though rather wearily, +and a few minutes after, when Mr. Vincent had gone out to speak to +some of the servants, she called Rosy and Bee to come to her. + +"Rosy and Bee," she said kindly but gravely, "do you remember my +advising you not to talk or to think too much about Lady Esther's +treat?" + +"Yes," said Bee, and "Yes," said Rosy, though in a rather sulky tone +of voice. + +"Well, then, I should not have had to remind you both of my advice. I +am really sorry to have to find fault about anything to do with the +birthday party. I wanted it to have been nothing but pleasure to you. +But Miss Pink has told me she does not know what to do with you--that +you are so careless and inattentive, and constantly chattering about +Lady Esther's plan, and that at last she felt she must tell me." + +Bee felt her cheeks grow red. Mrs. Vincent thought she felt ashamed, +but it was not shame. Poor Bee, she had _never_ before felt as +she did just now. It was not true--how could Miss Pink have said so of +her? She knew it was not true, and the words, "I _haven't_ been +careless--I did do just what you said," were bursting out of her lips +when she stopped. What good would it do to defend herself except to +make Mrs. Vincent more vexed with Rosy, and to cause fresh bad +feelings in Rosy's heart? Would it not be better to say nothing, to +bear the blame, rather than lose the kind feelings that Rosy was +getting to have to her? All these thoughts were running through her +mind, making her feel rather puzzled and confused, for Bee did not +always see things very quickly; she needed to think them over, when, +to her surprise, Rosy looked up. + +"It isn't true," she said, not very respectfully it must be owned, "it +isn't true that Bee has been careless. If Miss Pink thinks telling +stories about Bee will make me any better, she's very silly, and I +shall just not care what she says about anything." + +"Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent sternly, "you shall care what _I_ say. +Go to your room and stay there, and you, Beata, go to yours. I am +surprised that you should encourage Rosy in her naughty contradiction, +for it is nothing else that makes her speak so of what Miss Pink felt +obliged to say of you." + +Rosy turned away with the cool sullen manner that had not been seen +for some time. Bee, choking with sobs--never, _never_, she said +to herself, not even when her mother went away, had she felt so +miserable, never had Aunt Lillias spoken to her like that before--poor +Bee rushed off to her room, and shutting the door, threw herself on +the floor and wondered _what_ she should do! + +Mrs. Vincent, if she had only known it, was nearly as unhappy as she. +It was not often she allowed herself to feel worried and vexed, as she +had felt that morning, but everything had seemed to go wrong--Miss +Pink's complaints, which were _not_ true, about Bee had really +grieved her. For Miss Pink had managed to make it seem that it was +mostly Bee's fault---and she had said little things which had made +Mrs. Vincent really unhappy about Bee being so very sweet and good +before people, but not _really_ so good when one saw more of her. + +Mrs. Vincent would not let Miss Pink see that she minded what she +said; she would hardly own it to herself. But for all that it had left +a sting. + +"_Can_ I have been mistaken in Bee?" was the thought that kept +coming into her mind. For Miss Pink had mixed up truth with untruths. + +"_Rosy,_" she had said, "whatever her faults, is so very honest," +which her mother knew to be true, but Mrs. Vincent did not--for she +was too honest herself to doubt other people--see that Miss Pink liked +better to throw the blame on Bee, not out of ill-will to Bee, but +because she was so very afraid that if there was any more trouble +about Rosy, she would have to leave off being her governess. + +Then this very morning too had brought a letter from Rosy's aunt, +proposing a visit for the very next week, accompanied, of course, by +the maid who had done Rosy so much harm! Poor Mrs. Vincent--it really +was trying--and she did not even like to tell Rosy's father how much +she dreaded his sister's visit. For Aunt Edith had meant and wished to +be so truly kind to Rosy that it seemed ungrateful not to be glad to +see her. + +Rosy and Bee were left in their rooms till some time later than the +usual school-hour, for Mrs. Vincent, wanting them to think over what +she had said, told Miss Pink to give Fixie his lessons first, and +then, before sending for the little girls to come down, she had a talk +with Miss Pink. + +"I have spoken to both Rosy and Bee very seriously, and told them of +your complaints," she said. + +Miss Pink grew rather red and looked uncomfortable. + +"I should be sorry for them to think I complained out of any +unkindness," she said. + +"It is not unkindness. It is only telling the truth to answer me when +I ask how they have been getting on," said Mrs. Vincent, rather +coldly. "Besides I myself saw how very badly Rosy's exercises were +written. I am very disappointed about Beata," she added, looking Miss +Pink straight in the face, and it seemed to her that the little +governess grew again red. "I can only hope they will both do better +now." + +Then Rosy and Bee were sent for. Rosy came in with a hard look on her +face. Bee's eyes were swollen with crying, and she seemed as if she +dared not look at her aunt, but she said nothing. Mrs. Vincent +repeated to them what she had just said about hoping they would do +better. + +"I will do my best," said Beata tremblingly, for she felt as if +another word would make her burst out crying again. + +"Oh, I am sure they are both going to be very good little girls now," +said Miss Pink, in her silly, fussy way, as if she was in a hurry to +change the subject, which indeed she was. + +Bee raised her poor red eyes, and looked at her quietly, and Mrs. +Vincent saw the look. Rosy, who had not yet spoken, muttered +something, but so low that nobody could quite hear it; only the words +"stories" and "not true" were heard. + +"Rosy," said her mother very severely, "be silent!" and soon after she +left the room. + +The schoolroom party was not a very cheerful one this morning, but +things went on quietly. Miss Pink was plainly uncomfortable, and made +several attempts to make friends, as it were, with Bee. Bee answered +gently, but that was all, and as soon as lessons were over she went +quietly upstairs. + +Two days after, Miss Vincent arrived. Rosy was delighted to hear she +was coming, and her pleasure in it seemed to make her forget about +Bee's undeserved troubles. So poor Bee had to try to forget them +herself. Her lessons were learnt and written without a fault--it was +impossible for Miss Pink to find anything to blame; and indeed she did +not wish to do so, or to be unkind, to Beata, so long as things went +smoothly with Rosy. And for these two days everything was very smooth. +Rosy did not want to be in disgrace when her aunt came, and she, too, +did her best, so that the morning of the day when Miss Vincent was +expected, Miss Pink told the children, with a most amiable face, that +she would be able to give a very good report of them to Rosy's mother. + +Bee said nothing. Rosy, turning round, saw the strange, half-sad look +on Bee's face, and it came back into her mind how unhappy her little +friend had been, and how little she had deserved to be so. And in her +heart, too, Rosy knew that in reality it was owing to _her_ that +Beata had suffered, and a sudden feeling of sorrow rushed over her, +and, to Miss Pink's and Bee's astonishment, she burst out, + +"You may say what you like of me to mamma, Miss Pink. It is true I +have done my lessons well for two days, and it is true I did them +badly before. But if you can't tell the truth about Bee, it would be +much better for you to say nothing at all." + +Miss Pink grew pinker than usual, and she was opening her lips to +speak, when Beata interrupted her. + +"Don't say anything, Miss Pink," she said. "It's no good. _I_ +have said nothing, and--and I'll try to forget--you know what. I don't +want there to be any more trouble. It doesn't matter for me. O Rosy +dear," she went on entreatingly, "_don't_ say anything more that +might make more trouble, and vex your mamma with you, just as your +aunt's coming. Oh, _don't_." + +She put her arms round Rosy as if she would have held her back, Rosy +only looking half convinced. But in her heart Rosy _was_ very +anxious not to be in any trouble when her aunt came. She didn't quite +explain to herself why. Some of the reasons were good, and some were +not very good. One of the best was, I think, that she didn't want her +mother to be more vexed, or to have the fresh vexation of her aunt +seeming to think--as she very likely would, if there was any excuse +for it--that Rosy was less good under her mother's care than she had +been in Miss Vincent's. + +Rosy was learning truly to love, and what, for her nature, was almost +of more consequence, really to _trust_ her mother, and a feeling +of _loyalty_--if you know what that beautiful word means, dear +children,--I hope you do--was beginning for the first time to grow in +her cross-grained, suspicious little heart. Then, again, for her own +sake, Rosy wished all to be smooth when her aunt and Nelson arrived, +which was not a _bad_ feeling, if not a very good or unselfish +one. And then, again, she did not want to have any trouble connected +with Bee. She knew her Aunt Edith had not liked the idea of Bee +coming, and that if she fancied the little stranger was the cause of +any worry to her darling she would try to get her sent away. And Rosy +did not now _at all_ want Bee to be sent away! + +These different feelings were all making themselves heard rather +confusedly in her heart, and she hardly knew what to answer to Bee's +appeal, when Miss Pink came to the rescue. + +"Bee is right, Rosy," she said, her rather dolly-looking face flushing +again. "It is much better to leave things. You may trust me to--to +speak very kindly of--of you _both_. And if I was--at all +mistaken in what I said of you the other day, Bee--perhaps you had +been trying more than I--than I gave you credit for--I'm very sorry. +If I can say anything to put it right, I will. But it is very +difficult to--to tell things quite correctly sometimes. I had been +worried and vexed, and then Mrs. Vincent rather startled me by asking +me about you, Rosy, and by something she said about my not managing +you well. And--oh, I don't know _what_ we would do, my mother and +I, if I lost this nice situation!" she burst out suddenly, forgetting +everything else in her distress. "And poor mamma has been _so_ +ill lately, I've often scarcely slept all night. I daresay I've been +cross sometimes"--and Miss Pink finished up by bursting into tears. +Her distress gave the finishing touch to Bee's determination to bear +the undeserved blame. + +"No, poor Miss Pink," she said, running round to the little +governess's side of the table, "I _don't_ think you are cross. I +shouldn't mind if you were a little sometimes. And I know we are often +troublesome--aren't we, Rosy?" Rosy gave a little grunt, which was a +good deal for her, and showed that her feelings, too, were touched. +"But just then I _had_ been trying. Aunt Lillias had spoken to us +about it, and I _did_ want to please her"--and the unbidden tears +rose to Bee's eyes. "Please, Miss Pink, don't think I don't know when +I _am_ to blame, but--but you won't speak that way of me another +time when I've not been to blame." A sort of smothered sob here came +from Miss Pink, as a match to Rosy's grunt. "And _please_," Bee +went on, "don't say _anything_ more about that time to Aunt +Lillias. It's done now, and it would only make fresh trouble." + +That it would make trouble for _her_, Miss Pink felt convinced, +and she was not very difficult to persuade to take Bee's advice. + +"It would indeed bring _me_ trouble," she thought, as she walked +home more slowly than usual that the fresh air might take away the +redness from her eyes before her mother saw her. "I know Mrs. Vincent +would never forgive me if she thought I had exaggerated or +misrepresented. I'm sure I didn't want to blame Bee; but I was so +startled; and Mrs. Vincent seemed to think so much less of it when I +let her suppose they had _both_ been careless and tiresome. But +it has been a lesson to me. And Beata is _very_ good. I could +never say a word against her again." + +Miss Vincent arrived, and with her, of course, her maid Nelson. +Everything went off most pleasantly the first evening. Aunt Edith +seemed delighted to see Rosy again, and that was only kind and +natural. And she said to every one how well Rosy was looking, and how +much she was grown, and said, too, how nice it was for her to have a +companion of her own age. She had been so pleased to hear about little +Miss Warwick from Cecy Furnivale, whom she had seen lately. + +Bee stared rather at this. She hardly knew herself under the name of +little Miss Warwick; but she answered Miss Vincent's questions in her +usual simple way, and told Rosy, when they went up to bed, that she +did not wonder she loved her aunt--she seemed so very kind. + +"Yes," said Rosy. Then she sat still for a minute or two, as if she +was thinking over something very deeply. "I don't think I'd like to go +back to live with auntie," she said at last. + +"To leave your mother! No, _of course_ you wouldn't," exclaimed +Bee, as if there could be no doubt about the matter. + +"But I did think once I would," said Rosy, nodding her head--"I did." + +"I don't believe you really did," said Bee calmly. "Perhaps you +_thought_ you did when you were vexed about something." + +"Well, I don't see much difference between wanting a thing, and +_thinking_ you want it," said Rosy. + +This was one of the speeches which Bee did not find it very easy to +answer all at once, so she told Rosy she would think it over in her +dreams, for she was very sleepy, and she was sure Aunt Lillias would +be vexed if they didn't go to bed quickly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR. + + + "And the former called the latter 'little Prig.'"--EMERSON. + +"And how well that sweet child is looking, Nelson," said Miss Vincent +that evening to her maid as she was brushing her hair. + +"I am glad you think so, ma'am," replied Nelson, in a rather queer +tone of voice. + +"Why, what do you mean?" said Miss Vincent. "Do _you_ not think +so? To be sure it was by candlelight, and I am very near-sighted, but +I don't think any one could say that she looks ill. She is both taller +and stouter." + +"Perhaps so, ma'am. I wasn't thinking so much of her healthfulness. +With the care that _was_ taken of her, she couldn't but be a fine +child. But it's her _feelin's_, ma'am, that seems to be so +changed. All her spirits, her lovely high spirits, gone! Why, this +evening, that Martha--or whatever they call her--a' upsetting thing +_I_ call her--spoke to her that short about having left the +nursery door open because Master Fixie chose to fancy he was cold, +that I wonder any young lady would take it. And Miss Rosy, bless her, +up she got and shut it as meek as meek, and 'I'm very sorry, Martha--I +forgot,' she said. I couldn't believe my ears. I could have cried to +see her so kept down like. And she's so quiet and so grave." + +"She is certainly quieter than she used to be," said Miss Vincent, +"but surely she can't be unhappy. She would have told me--and I +thought it was so nice for her to have that little companion." + +"Umph," said Nelson. She had a way of her own of saying "umph" that it +is impossible to describe. Then in a minute or two she went on again. +"Well, ma'am, you know I'm one as must speak my mind. And the truth is +I _don't_ like that Miss Bee, as they call her, at all. She's far +too good, by way of being too good, I mean, for a child. Give me Miss +Rosy's tempers and fidgets--I'd rather have them than those +smooth-faced ways. And she's come round Miss Rosy somehow. Why, ma'am, +you'd hardly believe it, she'd hardly a word for me when she first saw +me. It was 'Good-evening, Nelson. How do you do?' as cool like as +could be. And it was all that Miss Bee's doing. I saw Miss Rosy look +round at her like to see what she thought of it." + +"Well, well, Nelson," said Miss Vincent, quite vexed and put out, "I +don't see what is to be done. We can't take the child away from her +own parents. All the same, I'm very glad to have come to see for +myself, and if I find out anything not nice about that child, I shall +stand upon no ceremony, I assure you," and with this Nelson had to be +content. + +It was true that Rosy had met Nelson very coldly. As I have told you +before, Rosy was by no means clever at _pretending_, and a very +good thing it is _not_ to be so. She had come to take a dislike +to Nelson, and to wonder how she could ever have been so under her. +Especially now that she was learning to love and trust Beata, she did +not like to let her know how many wrong and jealous ideas Nelson had +put in her head, and so before Beata she was very cold to the maid. +But in this Rosy was wrong. Nelson had taught her much that had done +her harm, but still she had been, or had meant to be, very good and +kind to Rosy, and Rosy owed her for this real gratitude. It was a +pity, too, for Bee's sake that Rosy had been so cold and stiff to +Nelson, for on Bee, Nelson laid all the blame of it, and the harm did +not stop here, as you will see. + +Miss Vincent never got up early, and the next morning passed as usual. +But she sent for Rosy to come to her room while she was dressing, +after the morning lessons were over, which prevented the two little +girls having their usual hour's play in the garden, and Beata wandered +about rather sadly, feeling as if Rosy was being taken away from her. +At luncheon Rosy came in holding her aunt's hand and looking very +pleased. + +"You don't know what lovely things auntie's been giving me," she said +to Bee as she passed her. "And Nelson's making me such a +_beautiful_ apron--the newest fashion." + +Nelson had managed to get into Rosy's favour again--that was clear. +Beata did not think this to herself. She was too simple and +kind-hearted to think anything except that it was natural for Rosy to +be glad to see her old nurse again, though Bee had a feeling somehow +that she didn't much care for Nelson and that Nelson didn't care for +her! + +"By-the-bye, Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent, in the middle of luncheon, "did +you show your aunt your Venetian beads?" + +"Yes," said Miss Vincent, answering for Rosy, "she did, and great +beauties they are." + +"_Nelson_ didn't think so--at least not at first," said Rosy, +rather spitefully. She had always had a good deal of spite at Nelson, +even long ago, when Nelson had had so much power of her. "Nelson said +they were glass trash, till auntie explained to her." + +"She didn't understand what they were," said Miss Vincent, seeming a +little annoyed. "She thinks them beautiful now." + +"Yes _now_, because she knows they must have cost a lot of +money," persisted Rosy. "Nelson never thinks anything pretty that +doesn't cost a lot." + +These remarks were not pleasant to Miss Vincent. She knew that Mrs. +Vincent thought Nelson too free in her way of speaking, and she did +not like any of her rather impertinent sayings to be told over. + +"Certainly," she thought to herself, "I think it is quite a mistake +that Rosy is too much kept down," but just as she was thinking this, +Rosy's mother looked up and said to her quietly, "Rosy, I don't think +you should talk so much. And you, Bee, are almost too silent!" she +added, smiling at Beata, for she had a feeling that since Miss +Vincent's arrival Bee looked rather lonely. + +"Yes," said Rosy's aunt, "we don't hear your voice at all, Miss Beata. +You're not like my chatter-box Rosy, who always must say out what she +thinks." + +The words sounded like a joke--there was nothing in them to vex Bee, +but something in the tone in which they were said made the little girl +grow red and hot. + +"I--I was listening to all of you," she said quietly. She was anxious +to say something, not to seem to Mrs. Vincent as if she was cross or +vexed. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother. "Rosy and her aunt have a great deal to say +to each other after being so long without meeting," and Miss Vincent +looked pleased at this, as Rosy's mother meant her to be. + +"By-the-bye," continued Mrs. Vincent, "has Rosy told you all about the +fete there is going to be at Summerlands?" Summerlands was the name of +Lady Esther's house. + +"Oh yes," said Miss Vincent, "and very charming it will be, no doubt, +only _I_ should have liked my pet to be the queen, as she tells +me was at first proposed." + +This was what Mrs. Vincent thought one of Aunt Edith's silly speeches, +and Rosy could not help wishing when she heard it that she had not +told her aunt that her being the queen had been thought of at all. She +looked a little uncomfortable, and her mother, glancing at her, +understood her feelings and felt sorry for her. + +"I think it is better as it is," she said. "Would you like to hear +about the dresses Rosy and Bee are to wear?" she went on. "I think +they will be very pretty. Lady Esther has ordered them in London with +her own little girls'." And then she told Miss Vincent all about the +dresses, so that Rosy's uncomfortable feeling went away, and she felt +grateful to her mother. + +After luncheon the little girls went out together in the garden. + +"I'm so glad to be together again," said Bee, "it seems to me as if I +had hardly seen you to-day, Rosy." + +"What nonsense!" said Rosy. "Why, I was only in auntie's room for +about a quarter of an hour after Miss Pink went." + +"A quarter of an hour," said Bee. "No indeed, Rosy. You were more than +an hour, I am sure. I was reading to Fixie in the nursery, for he's +got a cold and he mayn't go out, and you don't know what a great lot I +read. And oh, Rosy, Fixie wants so to know if he may have your beads +this afternoon, just to hold in his hand and look at. He can't hurt +them." + +"Very well," said Rosy. "He may have them for half an hour or so, but +not longer." + +"Shall I go and give them to him now?" said Bee, ready to run off. + +"Oh no, he won't need them just yet. Let's have a run first. Let's see +which of us will get to the middle bush first--you go right and I'll +go left." + +This race round the lawn was a favourite one with the children. They +were playing merrily, laughing and calling to each other, when a +messenger was seen coming to them from the house. It was Samuel the +footman. + +"Miss Rosy," he said as he came within hearing, "you must please to +come in _at onst_. Miss Vincent is going a drive and you are to +go with her." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Rosy, "I don't think I want to go." + +"I think you must," said Bee, though she could not help sighing a +little. + +"Miss Vincent is going to Summerlands," said Samuel. + +"Oh, then I _do_ want to go," said Rosy. "Never mind, Bee--I wish +you were going too. But I'll tell you all I hear about the party when +I come' back. But I'm sorry you're not going." + +She kissed Bee as she ran off. This was a good deal more than Rosy +would have done some weeks ago, and Bee, feeling this, tried to be +content. But the garden seemed dull and lonely after Rosy had gone, +and once or twice the tears would come into Bee's eyes. + +"After all," she said to herself, "those little girls are much the +happiest who can always live with their own mammas and have sisters +and brothers of their own, and then there can't be strange aunts who +are not their aunts." But then she thought to herself how much better +it was for her than for many little girls whose mothers had to be away +and who were sent to school, where they had no such kind friend as +Mrs. Vincent. + +"I'll go in and read to Fixie," she then decided, and she made her way +to the house. + +Passing along the passage by the door of Rosy's room, it came into her +mind that she might as well get the beads for Fixie which Rosy had +given leave for. She went in--the room was rather in confusion, for +Rosy had been dressing in a hurry for her drive--but Bee knew where +the beads were kept, and, opening the drawer, she found them easily. +She was going away with them in her hand when a sharp voice startled +her. It was Nelson. Bee had not noticed that she was in a corner of +the room hanging up some of Rosy's things, for, much to Martha's +vexation, Nelson was very fond of coming into Rosy's room and helping +her to dress. + +"What are you doing in Miss Rosy's drawers?" said Nelson; and Bee, +from surprise at her tone and manner, felt herself get red, and her +voice trembled a little as she answered. + +"I was getting something for Master Fixie--something for him to play +with." And she held up the necklace. + +Nelson looked at her still in a way that was not at all nice. "And who +said you might?" she said next. + +"Rosy--_of course_, Miss Rosy herself," said Bee, opening her +eyes, "I would not take anything of hers without her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of grunt. But she had an ill-will at the pretty +beads, because she had called them rubbish, not knowing what they +were; so she said nothing more, and Bee went quietly away, not hearing +the words Nelson muttered to herself, "Sly little thing. I don't like +those quiet ways." + +When Bee got to the nursery, she was very glad she had come. Fixie was +sitting in a corner looking very desolate, for Martha was busy looking +over the linen, as it was Saturday, and his head was "a'ting +dedfully," he said. He brightened up when he saw Bee and what she had +brought, and for more than an hour the two children sat perfectly +happy and content examining the wonderful beads, and making up little +fanciful stories about the fairies who were supposed to live in them. +Then when Fixie seemed to have had enough of the beads, Bee and he +took them back to Rosy's room and put them carefully away, and then +returned to the nursery, where they set to work to make a house with +the chairs and Fixie's little table. The nursery was not carpeted all +over--that is to say, round the edge of the room the wood of the floor +was left bare, for this made it more easy to lift the carpet often and +shake it on the grass, which is a very good thing, especially in a +nursery. The house was an old one, and so the wood floor was not very +pretty; here and there it was rather uneven, and there were queer +cracks in it. + +"See, Bee," said Fixie, while they were making their house, "see what +a funny place I've found in the f'oor," and he pointed to a small, +dark, round hole. It was made by what is called a knot in the wood +having dried up and dropped out long, long ago probably, for, as I +told you, the house was very old. + +"What is there down there, does you fink?" said Fixie, looking up at +Bee and then down again at the mysterious hole. "Does it go down into +the middle of the world, p'raps?" + +Beata laughed. + +"Oh no, Fixie, not so far as that, I am sure," she said. "At the most, +it can't go farther than the ceiling of the room underneath." + +Fixie looked puzzled, and Bee explained to him that there was a small +space left behind the wood planking which make the floor of one room +and the thinner boards which are the ceiling of an under room. + +[Illustration: 'WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?' SAID FIXIE] + +"The ceiling doesn't need to be so strong, you see," she said. "We +don't walk and jump on the ceiling, but we do on the floor, so the +ceiling boards would not be strong enough for the floor." + +"Yes," said Fixie, "on'y the flies walks on the ceiling, and they's +not very heavy, is they, Bee? But," he went on, "I would like to see +down into this hole. If I had a long piece of 'ting I could +_fish_ down into it, couldn't I, Bee? You don't fink there's +anything dedful down there, do you? Not fogs or 'nakes?" + +"No," said Bee, "I'm sure there are no frogs or snakes. There +_might_ be some little mice." + +"Is mice the same as mouses?" said Fixie; and when Bee nodded, "Why +don't you say mouses then?" he asked, "it's a much samer word." + +"But I didn't make the words," said Bee, "one has to use them the way +that's counted right." + +But Fixie seemed rather grumbly and cross. + +"_I_ like mouses," he persisted; and so, to change his ideas, Bee +went on talking about the knot hole. "We might get a stick to-morrow," +she said, "and poke it down to see how far it would go." + +"Not a 'tick," said Fixie, "it would hurt the little mouses. I didn't +say a 'tick--I said a piece of 'ting. I fink you'se welly unkind, Bee, +to hurt the poor little mouses," and he grew so very doleful about it +that Bee was quite glad when Martha called them to tea. + +"I don't know what's the matter with Fixie," she said to Martha, in a +low voice. + +"He's not very well," said Martha, looking at her little boy +anxiously. But tea seemed to do Fixie good, and he grew brighter +again, so that Martha began to think there could not be much wrong. + +Nursery tea was long over before Rosy came home, and so she stayed +down in the drawing-room to have some with her mother and aunt. And +even after that she did not come back to the other children, but went +into her aunt's room to look over some things they had bought in the +little town they had passed, coming home. She just put her head in at +the nursery door, seeming in very high spirits, and called out to Bee +that she would tell her how nice it had been at Summerlands. + +But the evening went on. Fixie grew tired and cross, and Martha put +him to bed; and it was not till nearly the big people's dinner-time +that Rosy came back to the nursery, swinging her hat on her arm, and +looking rather untidy and tired too. "I think I'll go to bed," she +said. "It makes me feel funny in my head, driving so far." + +"Let me put away your hat, Miss Rosy," said Martha, "it's getting all +crushed and it's your best one." + +"Oh, bother," said Rosy, and the tone was like the Rosy of some months +ago. "What does it matter? _You_ won't have to pay for a new +one." + +Martha said nothing, but quietly put away the hat, which had fallen on +the floor. Bee, too, said nothing, but her heart was full. She had +been alone, except for poor little Fixie, all the afternoon; and the +last hour or so she had been patiently waiting for Rosy to come to the +nursery to tell her, as she had promised, all her adventures. + +"I'm going to bed," repeated Rosy. + +"Won't you stay and talk a little?" said Bee; "you said you would tell +me about Summerlands." + +"I'm too tired," said Rosy. Then suddenly she added, sharply, "What +were you doing in my drawers this afternoon?" + +"In your drawers?" repeated Bee, half stupidly, as it were. She was +not, as I have told you, very quick in catching up a meaning; she was +thoughtful and clear-headed but rather slow, and when any one spoke +sharply it made her still slower. "In your drawers, Rosy?" she said +again, for, for a moment, she forgot about having fetched the +necklace. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "you were in my drawers, for Nelson told me. She +said I wasn't to tell you she'd told me, but I told her I would. I +don't like mean ways. But I'd just like to know what you were doing +among my things." + +It all came back to Bee now. + +"I only went to fetch the beads for Fixie," she said, her voice +trembling. "You said I might." + +"And did you put them back again? And did you not touch anything +else?" Rosy went on. + +"Of course I put them back, and--_of course_ I didn't touch +anything else," exclaimed Bee. "Rosy, how can you, how dare you speak +to me like that? As if I would steal your things. You have no +_right_ to speak that way, and Nelson is a bad, horrible woman. I +will tell your mother all about it to-morrow morning." + +And bursting into tears, Beata ran out of the nursery to take refuge +in her own room. Nor would she come out or speak to Rosy when she +knocked at the door and begged her to do so. But she let Martha in to +help her to undress, and listened gently to the good nurse's advice +not to take Miss Rosy's unkindness to heart. + +"She's sorry for it already," said Martha. "And, though perhaps I +shouldn't say it, you can see for yourself, Miss Bee dear, that it's +not herself, as one may say." And Martha gave a sigh. "I'm sorry for +Miss Rosy's mamma," she added, as she bid Bee good-night. And the +words went home to Bee's loving, grateful little heart. It was very +seldom, very seldom indeed, that unkind or ungentle thoughts or +feelings rested there. Never hardly in all her life had Beata given +way to anger as she had done that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +STINGS FOR BEE. + + + "And I will look up the chimney, + And into the cupboard to make quite sure." + --AUTHOR OF LILLIPUT LEVEE. + +Fixie was not quite well the next morning, as Martha had hoped he +would be. Still he did not seem ill enough to stay in bed, so she +dressed him as usual. But at breakfast he rested his head on his hand, +looking very doleful, "very sorry for himself," as Scotch people say. +And Martha, though she tried to cheer him up, was evidently anxious. + +Mother came up to see him after breakfast, and she looked less uneasy +than Martha. + +"It's only a cold, I fancy," she said, but when Martha followed her +out of the room and reminded her of all the children's illnesses Fixie +had _not_ had, and which often look like a cold at the beginning, +she agreed that it might be better to send for the doctor. + +"Have you any commissions for Blackthorpe?" she said to Miss Vincent +when she, Aunt Edith, came down to the drawing-room, a little earlier +than usual that morning. "I am going to send to ask the doctor to come +and see Fixie." + +Aunt Edith had already heard from Nelson about Felix not being well, +and that was why she had got up earlier, for she was in a great +fright. + +"I am thankful to hear it," she said; "for there is no saying what his +illness may be going to be. But, Lillias, _of course_ you won't +let darling Rosy stay in the nursery." + +"I hadn't thought about it," said Rosy's mother. "Perhaps I am a +little careless about these things, for you see all the years I was in +India I had only Fixie, and he was quite out of the way of infection. +Besides, Rosy has had measles and scarlet fever, and----" + +"But not whooping-cough, or chicken-pox, or mumps, or even smallpox. +Who knows but what it may be smallpox," said Aunt Edith, working +herself up more and more. + +Mrs. Vincent could hardly help smiling. "I _don't_ think that's +likely," she said. "However, I am glad you mentioned the risk, for I +think there is much more danger for Bee than for Rosy, for Bee, like +Fixie, has had none of these illnesses. I will go up to the nursery +and speak to Martha about it at once," and she turned towards the +door. + +"But you will separate Rosy too," insisted Miss Vincent, "the dear +child can sleep in my room. Nelson will be only too delighted to have +her again." + +"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would +be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head +again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped +Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so +much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave +Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in +the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." + +The doctor came in the afternoon, but he was not able to say much. It +would take, he said, a day or two to decide what was the matter with +the little fellow. But Fixie was put to bed, and Rosy and Bee were +told on no account to go into either of the nurseries. Fixie was not +sorry to go to bed; he had been so dull all the morning, playing by +himself in a comer of the nursery, but he cried a little when he was +told that Bee must not come and sit by him and read or tell him +stories as she always was ready to do when he was not quite well. And +Bee looked ready to cry too when she saw his distress! + +It was not a very cheerful time. The children felt unsettled by being +kept out of their usual rooms and ways. Rosy was constantly running +off to her aunt's room, or to ask Nelson about something or other, and +Bee did not like to follow her, for she had an uncomfortable feeling +that neither Nelson nor her mistress liked her to come. Nelson was in +a very gloomy humour. + +"It will be a sad pity to be sure," she said to Rosy, "if Master +Fixie's gone and got any sort of catching illness." + +"How do you mean?" said Rosy. "It won't much matter except that Bee +and I can't go into the nursery or my room. Bee's room has a door out +into the other passage, I heard mamma saying we could sleep there if +the nursery door was kept locked. I think it would be fun to sleep in +Bee's room. I shouldn't mind." + +Nelson grunted. She did not approve of Rosy's liking Beata. + +"Ah, well," she said, "it isn't only your Aunt Edith that's afraid of +infection. If it's measles that Master Fixie's got, you won't go to +Lady Esther's party, Miss Rosy." + +Rosy opened her eyes. "Not go to the party! we _must_ go," she +exclaimed, and before Nelson knew what she was about, off Rosy had +rushed to confide this new trouble to Bee, and hear what she would say +about it. Bee, too, looked grave, for her heart was greatly set on the +idea of the Summerlands fete. + +"I don't know," she replied. "I hope dear little Fixie is not going to +be very ill. Any way, Rosy, I don't think Nelson should have said +that. Your mother would have told us herself if she had wanted us to +know it." + +"Indeed," said a harsh voice behind her, "I don't require a little +chit like you, Miss Bee, to teach me my duty," and turning round, +Beata saw that Nelson was standing in the doorway, for she had +followed Rosy, a little afraid of the effect of what she had told her. +Bee felt sorry that Nelson had overheard what she had said, though +indeed there was no harm in it. + +"I did not mean to vex you, Nelson," she said, "but I'm sure it is +better to wait till Aunt Lillias tells us herself." + +Nelson looked very angry, and walked off in a huff, muttering +something the children could not catch. + +"I wish you wouldn't always quarrel with Nelson," said Rosy crossly. +"She always gets on with _me_ quite well. I shall have to go and +get her into a good humour again, for I want her to finish my apron." + +Rosy ran off, but Bee stayed alone, her eyes filled with tears. + +"It _isn't_ my fault," she said to herself. "I don't know what to +do. Nothing is the same since they came. I'll write to mother and ask +her not to leave me here any longer. I'd rather be at school or +anywhere than stay here when they're all so unkind to me now." + +But then wiser thoughts came into her mind. They weren't "all" unkind, +and she knew that Mrs. Vincent herself had troubles to bear. +Besides--what was it her mother had always said to her?--that it was +at such times that one's real wish to be good was tried; when all is +smooth and pleasant and every one kind and loving, what is easier than +to be kind and pleasant in return? It is when others are _not_ +kind, but sharp and suspicious and selfish, that one _has_ to +"try" to return good for evil, gentleness for harshness, kind thoughts +and ways for the cold looks or angry words which one cannot help +feeling sadly, but which lose half their sting when not treasured up +and exaggerated by dwelling upon them. + +And feeling happier again, Bee went back to what she was busy +at--making a little toy scrap-book for Fixie which she meant to send +in to him the next morning as if it had come by post. And she had need +of her good resolutions, for she hardly saw Rosy again all day, and +when they were going to bed Nelson came to help Rosy to undress and +went on talking to her so much all the time about people and places +Bee knew nothing about, that it was impossible for her to join in at +all. She kissed Rosy as kindly as usual when Nelson had left the room, +but it seemed to her that her kiss was very coldly returned. + +"You're not vexed with me for anything, are you, Rosy?" she could not +help saying. + +"Vexed with you? No, I never said I was vexed with you," Rosy +answered. "I wish you wouldn't go on like that, Bee, it's tiresome. I +can't be always kissing and petting you." + +And that was all the comfort poor Bee could get to go to sleep with! + +For a day or two still the doctor could not say what was wrong with +Fixie, but at last he decided that it was only a sort of feverish +attack brought on by his having somehow or other caught cold, for +there had been some damp and rainy weather, even though spring was now +fast turning into summer. + +The little fellow had been rather weak and out of sorts for some time, +and as soon as he was better, Mrs. Vincent made up her mind to send +him off with Martha for a fortnight to a sheltered seaside village not +far from their home. Beata was very sorry to see them go. She almost +wished she was going with them, for though she had done her best to be +patient and cheerful, nothing was the same as before the coming of +Rosy's aunt. Rosy scarcely seemed to care to play with her at all. Her +whole time, when not at her lessons, was spent in her aunt's room, +generally with Nelson, who was never tired of amusing her and giving +in to all her fancies. Bee grew silent and shy. She was losing her +bright happy manner, and looked as if she no longer felt sure that she +was a welcome little guest. Mrs. Vincent saw the change in her, but +did not quite understand it, and felt almost inclined to be vexed with +her. + +"She knows it is only for a short time that Rosy's aunt is here. She +might make the best of it," thought Mrs. Vincent. For she did not know +fully how lonely Bee's life now was, and how many cold or unkind words +she had to bear from Rosy, not to speak of Nelson's sharp and almost +rude manner; for, though Rosy was not cunning, Nelson was so, and she +managed to make it seem always as if Bee, and not Rosy, was in fault. + +"Where is Bee?" said Mrs. Vincent one afternoon when she went into the +nursery, where, at this time of day, Nelson was now generally to be +found. + +"I don't know, mamma," said Rosy. Then, without saying any more about +Bee, she went on eagerly, "Do look, mamma, at the lovely opera-cloak +Nelson has made for my doll? It isn't _quite_ ready--there's a +little white fluff----" + +"Swansdown, Miss Rosy, darling," said Nelson. + +"Well, swansdown then--it doesn't matter--mamma knows," said Rosy +sharply, "there's white stuff to go round the neck. Won't it be +lovely, mother?" + +She looked up with her pretty face all flushed with pleasure, for +nobody could be prettier than Rosy when she was pleased. + +"Yes dear, _very_ pretty," said her mother. It was impossible to +deny that Nelson was very kind and patient, and Mrs. Vincent would +have felt really pleased if only she had not feared that Nelson did +Rosy harm by her spoiling and flattery. "But where can Bee be?" she +said again. "Does she not care about dolls too?" + +"She used to," said Rosy. "But Bee is very fond of being alone now, +mamma. And I don't care for her when she looks so gloomy." + +"But what makes her so?" said Mrs. Vincent. "Are you quite kind to +her, Rosy?" + +"Oh indeed, yes, ma'am," interrupted Nelson, without giving Rosy time +to answer. "Of that you may be very sure. Indeed many's the time I say +to myself Miss Rosy's patience is quite wonderful. Such a free, +outspoken young lady as she is, and Miss Bee _so_ different. I +don't like them secrety sort of children, and Miss Rosy feels it +too--she--" + +"Nelson, I didn't ask for your opinion of little Miss Warwick," said +Mrs. Vincent, very coldly. "I know you are very kind to Rosy. But I +cannot have any interference when I find fault with her." + +Nelson looked very indignant, but Mrs. Vincent's manner had something +in it which prevented her answering in any rude way. + +"I'm sure I meant no offence," she said sourly, but that was all. + +Beata was alone in the schoolroom, writing, or trying to write, to her +mother. Her letters, which used to be such a pleasure, had grown +difficult. + +"Mamma said I was to write everything to her," she said to herself, +"but I _can't_ write to tell her I'm not happy. I wonder if it's +any way my fault." + +Just then the door opened and Mrs. Vincent looked in. + +"All alone, Bee," she said. "Would it not be more cheerful in the +nursery with Rosy? You have no lessons to do now? + +"No" said Bee, "I was beginning a letter to mamma. But it isn't to go +just yet." + +"Well, dear, go and play with Rosy. I don't like to see you moping +alone. You must be my bright little Bee--you wouldn't like any one to +think you are not happy with us?" + +"Oh no," said Bee. But there was little brightness in her tone, and +Mrs. Vincent felt half provoked with her. + +"She has not really anything to complain of," + +she said to herself, "and she cannot expect me to speak to her against +Aunt Edith and Nelson. She should make the best of it for the time." + +As Bee was leaving the schoolroom Mrs. Vincent called her back. + +"Will you tell Rosy to bring me her Venetian necklace to the +drawing-room?" she said; "I want it for a few minutes." She did not +tell Beata why she wanted it. It was because she had had a letter that +morning from Mr. Furnivale asking her to tell him how many beads there +were on Rosy's necklace and their size, as he had found a shop where +there were two or three for sale, and he wanted to get one as nearly +as possible the same for Beata. + +Beata went slowly to the nursery. She would much rather have stayed in +the schoolroom, lonely and dull though it was. When she got to the +nursery she gave Rosy her mother's message, and asked her kindly if +she might bring her dolls so that they could play with them together. + +"I shan't get no work done," said Nelson crossly, "if there's going to +be such a litter about." + +"I'm going to take my necklace to mamma," said Rosy. "You may play +with my doll till I come back, Bee." + +She ran off, and Bee sat down quietly as far away from Nelson as she +could. Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door suddenly opened +and Rosy burst in with a very red face. + +"Bee, Nelson," she exclaimed, "my necklace is _gone_. It is +indeed. I've hunted _everywhere_. And somebody must have taken +it, for I always put it in the same place, in its own little box. You +know I do--don't I, Bee?" + +Bee seemed hardly able to answer. Her face looked quite pale with +distress. + +"Your necklace gone, Rosy," she repeated. Nelson said nothing. + +"Yes, _gone,_ I tell you," said Rosy. "And I believe it's stolen. +It couldn't go of itself, and I _never_ left it about. I haven't +had it on for a good while. You know that time I slept in your room, +Bee, while Fixie was ill, I got out of the way of wearing it. But I +always knew where it was, in its own little box in the far-back corner +of the drawer where I keep my best ribbons and jewelry." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I know. It was there the day I had it out to amuse +Fixie." + +Rosy turned sharply upon her. + +"Did you put it back that day, Bee?" she said, "I don't believe I've +looked at it since. Answer, _did_ you put it back?" + +"Yes," said Bee earnestly, "yes, indeed; _indeed_ I did. O Rosy, +don't get like that," she entreated, clasping her hands, for Rosy's +face was growing redder and redder, and her eyes were flashing. "O +Rosy, _don't_ get into a temper with me about it. I did, _did_ +put it back." + +But it is doubtful if Rosy would have listened to her. She was fast +working herself up to believe that Bee had lost the necklace the day +she had had it out for Pixie, and she was so distressed at the loss +that she was quite ready to get into a temper with _somebody_--when, +to both the children's surprise, Nelson's voice interrupted +what Rosy was going to say. + +"Miss Warwick," she said, with rather a mocking tone--she had made a +point of calling Bee "Miss Warwick" since the day Mrs. Vincent had +spoken of the little girl by that name--"Miss Warwick did put it back +that day, Miss Rosy dear," she said. "For I saw it late that evening +when I was putting your things away to help Martha as Master Fixie was +ill." She did not explain that she had made a point of looking for the +necklace in hopes of finding Bee had _not_ put it back, for you +may remember she had been cross and rude to Bee about finding her in +Rosy's room. + +"Well, then, where has it gone? Come with me, Bee, and look for it," +said Rosy, rather softening down,--"though I'm _sure_ I've looked +everywhere." + +"I don't think it's any use your taking Miss Warwick to look for it," +said Nelson, getting up and laying aside her work. "I'll go with you, +Miss Rosy, and if it's in your room I'll undertake to find it. And +just you stay quietly here, Miss Bee. Too many cooks spoil the broth." + +So Bee was left alone again, alone, and even more unhappy than before, +for she was _very_ sorry about Rosy's necklace, and besides, she +had a miserable feeling that if it was never found she would somehow +be blamed for its loss. A quarter of an hour passed, then half an +hour, what could Rosy and Nelson be doing all this time? The door +opened and Bee sprang up. + +"Have you found it, Rosy?" she cried eagerly. + +But it was not Rosy, though she was following behind. The first person +that came in was Mrs. Vincent. She looked grave and troubled. + +"Beata," she said, "you have heard about Rosy's necklace. Tell me all +about the last time you saw it." + +"It was when Rosy let Fixie have it to play with," began Bee, and she +told all she remembered. + +"And you are sure--_quite_ sure--you never have seen it since?" + +"_Quite_ sure," said Bee. "I never touch Rosy's things without +her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of cough. Bee turned round on her. "If you've +anything to say you'd better say it now, before Mrs. Vincent," said +Bee, in a tone that, coming from the gentle kindly little girl, +surprised every one. + +"Bee!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, "What do you mean? Nelson has said +_nothing_ about you." This was quite true. Nelson was too clever +to say anything right out. She had only hinted and looked wise about +the necklace to Rosy, giving her a feeling that Bee was more likely to +have touched it than any one else. + +Bee was going to speak, but Rosy's mother stopped her. "You have told +us all you know," she said. "I don't want to hear any more. But I am +surprised at you, Bee, for losing your temper about being simply asked +if you had seen the necklace. You might have forgotten at first if you +had had it again for Fixie, and you _might_ the second time have +forgotten to put it back. But there is nothing to be offended at, in +being asked about it." + +She spoke coldly, and Bee's heart swelled more and more, but she dared +not speak. + +"There is nothing to do," said Mrs. Vincent, "that I can see, except +to find out if Fixie could have taken it. I will write to Martha at +once and tell her to ask him, and to let us know by return of post." + +The letter was written and sent. No one waited for the answer more +anxiously than Beata. It came by return of post, as Mrs. Vincent had +said. But it brought only disappointment. "Master Fixie," Martha +wrote, "knew nothing of Miss Rosy's necklace." He could not remember +having had it to play with at all, and he seemed to get so worried +when she kept on asking about it, that Martha thought it better to say +no more, for it was plain he had nothing to tell. + +"It is very strange he cannot remember playing with it that +afternoon," said Mrs. Vincent. "He generally has such a good memory. +You are sure you _did_ give it to him to play with, Bee?" + +"We played with it together. I told him stories about each bead," the +little girl replied. And her voice trembled as if she were going to +burst into tears. + +"Then his illness since must have made him forget it," said Mrs. +Vincent. But that was all she said. She did not call Bee to her and +tell her not to feel unhappy about it--that she knew she could trust +every word she said, as she once would have done. But she did give +very strict orders that nothing more was to be said about the +necklace, for though Nelson had not dared to hint anything unkind +about Bee to Mrs. Vincent herself, yet Rosy's mother felt sure that +Nelson blamed Bee for the loss, and wished others to do so, and she +was afraid of what might be said in the nursery if the subject was +still spoken about. + +So nothing unkind was actually said to Beata, but Rosy's cold manner +and careless looks were hard to bear. + +And the days were drawing near for the long looked forward to fete at +Summerlands. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT. + + + "She ran with wild speed, she rushed in at the door, + She gazed in her terror around." + --SOUTHEY. + +But Beata could not look forward to it now. The pleasure seemed to +have gone out of everything. + +"Nobody loves me now, and nobody trusts me," she said sadly to +herself. "And I don't know why it is. I can't think of anything I have +done to change them all." + +Her letter to her mother was already written and sent before the +answer came from Martha. Bee had hurried it a little at the end +because she wanted to have an excuse to herself for not telling her +mother how unhappy she was about the loss of the necklace. + +"If an answer comes from Martha that Fixie had taken it away or put it +somewhere, it will be all right again and I shall be quite happy, and +then it would have been a pity to write unhappily to poor mother, so +far away," she said to herself. And when Martha's letter came and all +was not right again, she felt glad that she could not write for +another fortnight, and that perhaps by that time she would know better +what to say, or that "somehow" things would have grown happier again. +For she had promised, "faithfully" promised her mother to tell her +truly all that happened, and that if by any chance she was unhappy +about anything that she could not speak easily about to Mrs. +Vincent,--though Bee's mother had little thought such a thing +likely,--she would still write all about it to her own mother. + +But a week had already passed since that letter was sent. It was +growing time to begin to think about another. And no "somehow" had +come to put things right again. Bee sat at the schoolroom window one +day after Miss Pink had left, looking out on to the garden, where the +borders were bright with the early summer flowers, and everything +seemed sunny and happy. + +"I wish I was happy too," thought Bee. And she gently stroked +Manchon's soft coat, and wondered why the birds outside and the cat +inside seemed to have all they wanted, when a little girl like her +felt so sad and lonely. Manchon had grown fond of Bee. She was gentle +and quiet, and that was what he liked, for he was no longer so young +as he had been. And Rosy's pullings and pushings, when she was not in +a good humour and fancied he was in her way, tried his nerves very +much. + +"Manchon," said Bee softly, "you look very wise. Why can't you tell me +where Rosy's necklace is?" + +Manchon blinked his eyes and purred. But, alas, that was all he could +do. + +Just then the door opened and Rosy came in. She was dressed for going +out. She had her best hat and dress on, and she looked very well +pleased with herself. + +"I'm going out a drive with auntie," she said. "And mamma says you're +to be ready to go a walk with her in half an hour." + +She was leaving the room, when a sudden feeling made Bee call her +back. + +"Rosy," she said, "do stay a minute. Rosy, I am so unhappy. I've been +thinking if I can't write a letter to ask mother to take me away from +here. I would, only it would make her so unhappy." + +Rosy looked a little startled. + +"Why would you do that?" she said. "I'm sure I've not done anything to +you." + +"But you don't love me any more," said Bee. "You began to leave off +loving me when your aunt and Nelson came,--I know you did,--and then +since the necklace was lost it's been worse. What can I do, Rosy, what +can I say?" + +"You might own that you've lost it--at least that you forgot to put it +back," said Rosy. + +"But I _did_ put it back. Even Nelson says that," said Bee. "I +can't say I didn't when I know I did," she added piteously. + +"But Nelson thinks you took it another time, and forgot to put it +back. And I think so too," said Rosy. To do her justice, she never, +like Nelson, thought that Bee had taken the necklace on purpose. She +did not even understand that Nelson thought so. + +"Rosy," said Bee very earnestly, "I did _not_ take it another +time. I have never seen it since that afternoon when Fixie had had it +and I put it back. Rosy, _don't_ you believe me?" + +Rosy gave herself an impatient shake. + +"I don't know," she said. "You might have forgotten. Anyway it was you +that had it last, and I wish I'd never given you leave to have it; I'm +sure it wouldn't have been lost." + +Bee turned away and burst into tears. + +"I _will_ write to mamma and ask her to take me away," she said. + +Again Rosy looked startled. + +"If you do that," she said, "it will be very unkind to _my_ +mamma. Yours will think we have all been unkind to you, and then +she'll write letters to my mamma that will vex her very much. And I'm +sure _mamma's_ never been unkind to you. I don't mind if you say +_I'm_ unkind; perhaps I am, because I'm very vexed about my +necklace. I shall get naughty now it's lost--I know I shall," and so +saying, Rosy ran off. + +Bee left off crying. It was true what Rosy had said. It _would_ +make Mrs. Vincent unhappy and cause great trouble if she asked her +mother to take her away. A new and braver spirit woke in the little +girl. + +"I won't be unhappy any more," she resolved. "I know I didn't touch +the necklace, and so I needn't be unhappy. And then I needn't write +anything to trouble mother, for if I get happy again it will be all +right." + +Her eyes were still rather red, but her face was brighter than it had +been for some time when she came into the drawing-room, ready dressed +for her walk. + +"Is that you, Bee dear?" said Mrs. Vincent kindly. She too was ready +dressed, but she was just finishing the address on a letter. "Why, you +are looking quite bright again, my child!" she went on when she looked +up at the little figure waiting patiently beside her. + +"I'm very glad to go out with you," said Bee simply. + +"And I'm very glad to have you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"Aunt Lillias," said Bee, her voice trembling a little, "may I ask you +one thing? _You_ don't think I touched Rosy's necklace?" + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"_Certainly_ not, dear," she said. "I did at first think you +might have forgotten to put it back that day. But after your telling +me so distinctly that you _had_ put it back, I felt quite +satisfied that you had done so." + +"But," said Bee, and then she hesitated. + +"But what?" said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. + +"I don't think--I _didn't_ think," Bee went on, gaining courage, +"that you had been quite the same to me since then." + +"And you have been fancying all kinds of reasons for it, I suppose!" +said Mrs. Vincent. "Well, Bee, the only thing I have been not quite +pleased with you for _has_ been your looking so unhappy. I was +surprised at your seeming so hurt and vexed at my asking you about the +necklace, and since then you have looked so miserable that I had begun +seriously to think it might be better for you not to stay with us. If +Rosy or any one else has disobeyed me, and gone on talking about the +necklace, it is very wrong, but even then I wonder at your allowing +foolish words to make you so unhappy. _Has_ any one spoken so as +to hurt you?" + +"No," said Bee, "not exactly, but--" + +"But you have seen that there were unkind thoughts about you. Well, I +am very sorry for it, but at present I can do no more. You are old +enough and sensible enough to see that several things have not been as +I like or wish lately. But it is often so in this world. I was very +sorry for Martha to have to go away, but it could not be helped, Now, +Bee, think it over. Would you rather go away, for a time any way, or +will you bravely determine not to mind what you know you don't +deserve, knowing that _I_ trust you fully?" + +"Yes," said Bee at once, "I will not mind it any more. And Rosy +perhaps," here her voice faltered, "Rosy perhaps will like me better +if I don't seem so dull." + +Mrs. Vincent looked grave when Bee spoke of Rosy, so grave that Bee +almost wished she had not said it. + +"It is very hard," she heard Rosy's mother say, as if speaking to +herself, "just when I thought I had gained a better influence over +her. _Very_ hard." + +Bee threw her arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck. + +"Dear auntie," she said, "_don't_ be unhappy about Rosy. I will +be patient, and I know it will come right again, and I won't be +unhappy any more." + +Mrs. Vincent kissed her. + +"Yes, dear Bee," she said, "we must both be patient and hopeful." + +And then they went out, and during the walk Beata noticed that Mrs. +Vincent talked about other things--old times in India that Bee could +remember, and plans for the future when her father and mother should +come home again to stay. Only just as they were entering the house on +their return, Bee could not help saying, + +"Aunt Lillias, I _wonder_ if the necklace will never be found." + +"So do I," said Mrs. Vincent. "I really cannot understand where it can +have gone. We have searched so thoroughly that even if Fixie +_had_ put it somewhere we would have found it. And, if possibly, +he had taken it away with him by mistake, Martha would have seen it." + +But that was all that was said. + +A day or two later Rosy came flying into the schoolroom in great +excitement. Miss Pinkerton was there at the time, for it was the +middle of morning lessons, and she had sent Rosy upstairs to fetch a +book she had left in the nursery by mistake. "Miss Pink, Bee!" she +continued, "our dresses have come from London. I'm sure it must be +them. Just as I passed the backstair door I heard James calling to +somebody about a case that was to be taken upstairs, and I peeped over +the banisters, and there was a large white wood box, and I saw the +carter's man standing waiting to be paid. Do let me go and ask about +them, Miss Pink." + +"No, Rosy, not just now," said Miss Pink. She spoke more firmly than +she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was +beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it +to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down +to her lessons. + +"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you +had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem +better than any one else." + +"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the +dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this +afternoon." + +Rosy looked at her with surprise. Lately Beata had never answered her +cross speeches like this, but had looked either ready to cry, or had +told her she was very unkind or very naughty, which had not mended +matters! + +Rosy was right. The white wood box did contain the dresses, and though +Mrs. Vincent was busy that day, as she and Aunt Edith were going a +long drive to spend the afternoon and evening with friends at some +distance, she understood the little girls' eagerness to see them, and +had the box undone and the costumes fully exhibited to please them. +They were certainly very pretty, for though the material they were +made of was only cotton, they had been copied exactly from an old +picture Lady Esther had sent on purpose. The only difference between +them was that one of the quilted under skirts was sky blue to suit +Rosy's bright complexion and fair hair, and the other was a very +pretty shade of rose colour, which, went better with Bee's dark hair +and paler face. + +The children stood entranced, admiring them. + +"Now, dears, I must put them away," said Mrs. Vincent. "It is really +time for me to get ready." + +"O mamma!" exclaimed Rosy, "do leave them out for us to try on. I can +tell Nelson to take them to my room." + +"No, Rosy," said her mother decidedly. "You must wait to try them on +till to-morrow. I want to see them on myself. Besides, they are very +delicate in colour, and would be easily soiled. You must be satisfied +with what you have seen of them for to-day. Now run and get ready. It +is already half-past three." + +For it had been arranged that Rosy and Bee, with Nelson to take care +of them, were to drive part of the way with Mrs. Vincent and her +sister-in-law, and to walk back, as it was a very pretty country road. + +Rosy went off to get ready, shaking herself in the way she often did +when she was vexed; and while she was dressing she recounted her +grievances to Nelson. + +"Never mind, Miss Rosy," said that foolish person, "we'll perhaps have +a quiet look at your dress this evening when we're all alone. There's +no need to say anything about it to Miss Bee." + +"But mamma said we were not to try them on till to-morrow," said Rosy. + +"No, not to try them on by yourselves, very likely you would get them +soiled. But we'll see." + +It was pretty late when the children came home. They had gone rather +farther than Mrs. Vincent had intended, and coming home they had made +the way longer by passing through a wood which had tempted them at the +side of the road. They were a little tired and very hungry, and till +they had had their tea Rosy was too hungry to think of anything else. +But tea over, Bee sat down to amuse herself with a book till bed-time, +and Rosy wandered about, not inclined to read, or, indeed, to do +anything. Suddenly the thought of the fancy dresses returned to her +mind. She ran out of the nursery, and made her way to her aunt's room, +where Nelson was generally to be found. She was not there, however. +Rosy ran down the passages at that part of the house where the +servants' rooms were, to look for her, though she knew that her mother +did not like her to do so. + +"Nelson, Nelson," she cried. + +Nelson's head was poked out of her room. + +"What is it, Miss Rosy? It's not your bed-time yet." + +"No, but I want to look at my dress again. You promised I should." + +"Well, just wait five minutes. I'm just finishing a letter that one of +the men's going to post for me. I'll come to your room, Miss Rosy, and +bring a light. It's getting too dark to see." + +"Be quick then," said Rosy, imperiously. + +She went back to her room, but soon got tired of waiting there. She +did not want to go to the nursery, for Bee was there, and would begin +asking her what she was doing. + +"I'll go to mamma's room," she said to herself, "and just look about +to see where she has put the frocks. I'm _almost_ sure she'll +have hung them up in her little wardrobe, where she keeps new things +often." + +No sooner said than done. Off ran Rosy to her mother's room. It was +getting dusk, dark almost, any way too dark to see clearly. Rosy +fumbled about on the mantelpiece till she found the match-box, and +though she was generally too frightened of burning her fingers to +strike a light herself, this time she managed to do so. There were +candles on the dressing-table, and when she had lighted them she +proceeded to search. It was not difficult to find what she wanted. The +costumes were hanging up in the little wardrobe, as she expected, but +too high for her to reach easily. Rosy went to the door, and a little +way down the passage, and called Nelson. But no one answered, and it +was a good way off to Nelson's room. + +"Nasty, selfish thing," said Rosy; "she's just going on writing to +tease me." + +But she was too impatient, to go back to her own room and wait there. +With the help of a chair she got down the frocks. Bee's came first, of +course, because it wasn't wanted--Rosy flung it across the back of a +chair, and proceeded to examine her own more closely than she had been +able to do before. It _was_ pretty! And so complete--there was +even the little white mob-cap with blue ribbons, and a pair of blue +shoes with high, though not very high, heels! These last she found +lying on the shelf, above the hanging part of the wardrobe. + +"It is _too_ pretty," said Rosy. "I _must_ try it on." + +And, quick as thought, she set to work--and nobody could be quicker or +cleverer than Rosy when she chose--taking off the dress she had on, +and rapidly attiring herself in the lovely costume. It all seemed to +fit beautifully,--true, the pale blue shoes looked rather odd beside +the sailor-blue stockings she was wearing, and she wondered what kind +of stockings her mother intended her to wear at Summerlands--and she +could not get the little lace kerchief arranged quite to her taste; +but the cap went on charmingly, and so did the long mittens, which +were beside the shoes. + +"There must be stockings too," thought Rosy, "for there seems to be +everything else; perhaps they are farther back in the shelf." + +[Illustration: BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH +THEM.] + +She climbed up on the chair again, but she could not see farther into +the shelf, so she got down and fetched one of the candles. Then up +again--yes--there were two little balls, a pink and a blue, farther +back-by stretching a good deal she thought she could reach them. Only +the candle was in the way, as she was holding it in one hand. She +stooped and set it down on the edge of the chair, and reached up +again, and had just managed to touch the little balls she could no +longer see, when--what was the matter? What was that rush of hot air +up her left leg and side? She looked down, and, in her fright, +fell--chair, Rosy, and candle, in a heap on the floor--for she had +seen that her skirts were on fire! and, as she fell, she uttered a +long piercing scream. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +GOOD OUT OF EVIL. + + + "Sweet are the uses of adversity."--SHAKESPEARE. + +A scream that would probably have reached the nursery, which was not +very far from Mrs. Vincent's room, had there been any one there to +hear it! But as it was, the person who had been there--little Bee--was +much nearer than the nursery at the time of Rosy's accident. The house +was very silent that evening, and Nelson had not thought of bringing a +light; so when it got too dark to read, even with the book pressed +close against the window-panes, Bee grew rather tired of waiting there +by herself, with nothing to do. + +"I wonder where Rosy is," she thought, opening the door, and looking +out along the dusky passages. + +And just then she heard Rosy's voice, at some little distance, +calling, "Nelson, Nelson." + +"If she is with Nelson I won't go," thought Bee. "I'll wait till she +comes back;" and she came into the empty nursery again, and wished +Martha was home. + +"She always makes the nursery so comfortable," thought Bee. Then it +struck her that perhaps it was not very kind of her not to go and see +what Rosy wanted--she had not heard any reply to Rosy's call for +Nelson. + +"Her voice sounded as if she was in Aunt Lillias's room," she said to +herself. "What can she be wanting? perhaps I'd better go and see." + +And she set off down the passage. The lamps were not yet lighted; +perhaps the servants were less careful than usual, knowing that the +ladies would not be home till late, but Bee knew her way about the +house quite well. She was close to the door of Mrs. Vincent's room, +and had already noticed that it stood slightly ajar, for a light was +streaming out, when--she stood for a second half-stupefied with +terror--what was it?--what could be the matter?--as Rosy's fearful +scream reached her ears. Half a second, and she had rushed into the +room--there lay a confused heap on the floor, for Rosy, in her fall, +had pulled over the chair; but the first glance showed Bee what was +wrong--Rosy was on fire! + +It was a good thing she had fallen, otherwise, in her wild fright, she +would probably have made things worse by rushing about; as it was, she +had not had time to get up before Bee was beside her, smothering her +down with some great heavy thing, and calling to her to keep still, to +"squeeze herself down," so as to put out the flames. The "great thing" +was the blankets and counterpane of the bed, which somehow Bee, small +as she was, had managed to tear off. And, frightened as Rosy was, the +danger was not, after all, so very great, for the quilted under skirt +was pretty thick, and her fall had already partly crushed down the +fire. It was all over more quickly than it has taken me to tell it, +and Rosy at last, half choked with the heavy blankets, and half soaked +with the water which Bee had poured over her to make sure, struggled +to her feet, safe and uninjured, only the pretty dress hopelessly +spoilt! + +And when all the danger was past, and there was nothing more to do, +Nelson appeared at the door, and rushed at her darling Miss Rosy, +screaming and crying, while Beata stood by, her handkerchief wrapped +round one of her hands, and nobody paying any attention to her. +Nelson's screams soon brought the other servants; among them, they got +the room cleared of the traces of the accident, and Rosy undressed and +put to bed. She was crying from the fright, but she had got no injury +at all; her tears, however, flowed on when she thought of what her +mother would have to be told, and Bee found it difficult to comfort +her. + +"You saved me, Bee, dear Bee," she said, clinging to her. "And it was +because I disobeyed mamma, and I might have been burnt to death. O +Bee, just think of it!" and she would not let Beata leave her. + +It was like this that Mrs. Vincent found them on her return late in +the evening. You can fancy how miserable it was for her to be met with +such a story, and to know that it was all Rosy's own fault. But it was +not all miserable, for never had she known her little girl so +completely sorry and ashamed, and so truly grateful to any one as she +was now feeling to Beata. + +And even Aunt Edith's prejudice seemed to have melted away, for she +kissed Bee as she said goodnight, and called her a brave, good child. + +So it was with a thankful little heart that Beata went to bed. Her +hand was sore--it had got badly scorched in pressing down the +blankets--but she did not think it bad enough to say anything about it +except to the cook, who was a kind old woman, and wrapped it up in +cotton wool, after well dredging it with flour, and making her promise +that if it hurt her in the night she would call her. + +It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the +morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was +still sleeping--the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told +her--and she was not to be wakened. + +"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant +said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it. +It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she +went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" + +"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. +What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" + +"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." + +"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head +worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed. + +"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe. + +"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm +up." + +It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs. +Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up, +none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for +poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache, + +"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs. +Vincent asked. + +"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser +looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and--and--you had had +so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added, +affectionately. + +"Yes, dear; but, when I think how much worse they might have been, I +dare not complain," Rosy's mother replied. + +Bee did not go to church that day. Her headache was not very bad, but +it did not seem to get well, and it was still rather bad when she woke +the next morning. + +And that next morning brought back to all their minds what, for the +moment, had been almost forgotten--that it was within three days of +the fete at Summerlands!--for there came a note from Lady Esther, +giving some particulars about the hour she hoped they would all come, +and rejoicing in the promise of fine weather for the children's treat. + +Rosy's mother read the note aloud. Then she looked at Aunt Edith, and +looked at the little girls. They were all together when the letter +came. + +"What is to be done?" said Miss Vincent; "I had really forgotten the +fete was to be on Wednesday. Is it impossible to have a new dress made +in time?" + +"Quite impossible," said Mrs. Vincent, "Rosy must cheerfully, or at +least patiently, bear what she has brought on herself, and be, as I am +sure she is, very thankful that it was no worse." + +Rosy glanced up quickly. She seemed as if she were going to say +something, and the look in her face was quite gentle. + +"I--I--I _will_ try to be good, mamma," she broke out at last. +"And I know I might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for +Bee. And--and--I hope Bee will enjoy the fete." + +But that was all she could manage. She hurried over the last words; +then, bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room. + +"Poor darling!" said Aunt Edith. "Lillias, are you sure we can do +nothing? Couldn't one of her white dresses be done up somehow?" + +"No," said Mrs. Vincent. "It would only draw attention to her if she +was to go dressed differently from the others, and I should not wish +that. Besides--oh no--it is much better not." + +She had hardly said the words when she felt something gently pulling +her, and, looking down, there was Bee beside her, trying to whisper +something. + +"Auntie," she said, "would you, oh! _would_ you let Rosy go +instead of me, wearing my dress? It would fit her almost as well as +her own. And, do you know, I _wouldn't_ care to go alone. It +wouldn't be _any_ happiness to me, and it would be such happiness +to know that Rosy could go. And I'm afraid I've got a little cold or +something, for I've still got a headache, and I'm not sure that it +will be better by Wednesday." + +She looked up entreatingly in Mrs. Vincent's face, and then Rosy's +mother noticed how pale and ill she seemed. + +"My dear little Bee," she said, "you must try to be better by +Wednesday. And, you know, dear, though we are all very sorry for Rosy, +it is only what she has brought on herself. I hope she has learnt a +lesson--more than one lesson--but, if she were to have the pleasure of +going to Summerlands, she might not remember it so well." + +Beata said no more--she could not oppose Rosy's mother--but she shook +her head a little sadly. + +"I don't think Rosy's like that, Aunt Lillias," she said; "I don't +think it would make her forget." + +Beata's headache was not better the next day; and, as the day went on, +it grew so much worse that Mrs. Vincent at last sent for the doctor. +He said that she was ill, much in the same way that Fixie had been. +Not that it was anything she could have caught from him--it was not +that kind of illness at all--but it was the first spring either of +them had been in England, and he thought that very likely the change +of climate had caused it with them both. He was not, he said, anxious +about Bee, but still he looked a little grave. She was not strong, and +she should not be overworked with lessons, or have anything to trouble +or distress her. + +"She has not been overworked," Mrs. Vincent said. + +"And she seems very sweet-tempered and gentle. A happy disposition, I +should think," said the doctor, as he hastened away. + +His words made Mrs. Vincent feel rather sad. It was true--Bee had a +happy disposition--she had never, till lately, seen her anything but +bright and cheery. + +"My poor little Bee," she thought, "I was hard upon her. I did not +quite understand her. In my anxiety about Rosy when her aunt and +Nelson came I fear I forgot Bee. But I do trust all that is over, and +that Rosy has truly learnt a lesson. And we must all join to make +little Bee happy again." + +She returned to Bee's room. The child was sitting up in bed, her eyes +sparkling in her white face--she was very eager about something. + +"Auntie," she said, "you see I cannot possibly go to-morrow. And you +must go, for poor Lady Esther is counting on you to help her. Auntie, +you _will_ forgive poor Rosy now _quite_, won't you, and let +her go in my dress?" + +The pleading eyes, the white face, the little hot hands laid coaxingly +on hers--it would not have been easy to refuse! Besides, the doctor +had said she was neither to be excited nor distressed. + +The tears were in Mrs. Vincent's eyes as she bent down to kiss the +little girl, but she did not let her see them. + +"I will speak to Rosy, dear," she said. "I will tell her how much you +want her to go in your place; and I think perhaps you are right--I +don't think it will make her forget." + +"_Thank_ you, dear auntie," said Bee, as fervently as if Mrs. +Vincent had promised her the most delightful treat in the world. + +That afternoon Bee fell asleep, and slept quietly and peacefully for +some time. When she woke she felt better, and she lay still, thinking +it was nice and comfortable to be in bed when one felt tired, as she +had always done lately; then her eyes wandered round her little room, +and she thought how neat and pretty it looked, how pleased her mother +would be to see how nice she had everything; and, just as she was +thinking this, her glance fell on a little table beside her bed, which +had been placed there with a little lemonade and a few grapes. There +was something there that had not been on the table before she went to +sleep. In a delicate little glass, thin and clear as a soap-bubble, +was the most lovely rose Bee had ever seen--rich, soft, _rose_ +colour, glowing almost crimson in the centre, and melting into a +somewhat paler shade at the edge. + +[Illustration: 'IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY.'] + +"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Bee, "I wonder who put you there. I would +like to scent you"--Bee, like other children I know, always talked of +"scenting" flowers; she said "smell" was not a pretty enough word for +such pretty things--"but I am afraid of knocking over that lovely +glass. It must be one of Aunt Lillias's that she has lent." + +A little soft laugh came from the side of her bed, and, leaning over, +Bee caught sight of a tangle of bright hair. It was Rosy. She had been +watching there for Bee to wake. Up she jumped, and, carefully lifting +the glass, held it close to Bee. + +"It isn't mother's glass," she said; "it's your own. It _was_ +mother's, but I've bought it for you. Mother let me, because I +_did_ so want to do something to please you; and she let me +choose the beautifullest rose for you, Bee. I am so glad you like it; +It's a rose from Rosy. I've been sitting by you such a time. And +though I'm so pleased you like the rose, I _have_ been crying a +little, Bee, truly, because you are so good, and about my going +to-morrow." + +"You _are_ going?" said Bee, anxiously. In Rosy's changed way of +thinking she became suddenly afraid that she might not wish to go. + +"Yes," said Rosy, rather gravely, "I am going. Mother is quite pleased +for me to go, to please you. In one way I would rather not go, for I +know I don't deserve it; and I can't help thinking you wouldn't have +been ill if I hadn't done that, and made you have a fright. And it +seems such a shame for me to wear _your_ dress, when you've been +quite good and _deserve_ the pleasure, and just when I've got to +see how kind you are, and we'd have been so happy to go together. And +then I've a feeling, Bee, that I _shall_ enjoy it when I get +there, and perhaps I shall forget a little about you, and it will be +so horrid of me, if I do--and that makes me, wish I wasn't going." + +"But I want you to enjoy it," said Bee, simply, in her little weak +voice. "It wouldn't be nice of me to want you to go if I thought you +wouldn't enjoy it. And it's nice of you to tell me how you feel. But I +would like you to think of me _this_ way--every time you are +having a very nice dance, or that any one says you look so nice, just +think, "I wish Bee could see me," or "How nice it will be to tell Bee +about it," and, that way, the more you enjoy it the more you'll think +of me." + +"Yes," said Rosy, "that's putting it a very nice way; or, Bee, if +there are very nice things to eat, I might think of you another way. I +might, perhaps, bring you back some nice biscuits or bonbons--any kind +that wouldn't squash in my pocket, you know. I might ask mamma to ask +Lady Esther." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I'm not very hungry, but just a few very nice, +rather dry ones, you know, I would like." "I could keep them for Fixie +when he comes back," was the thought in her mind. + +She had not heard anything about when Fixie and Martha were coming +back, but she was to have a pleasant surprise the next day. It was a +little lonely; for, though Rosy meant to be very, very kind, she was +rather too much of a chatterbox not to tire Bee after a while. + +"Mamma said I wasn't to stay very long," she said; "but don't you mind +being alone so much?" + +"No, I don't think so," said Bee, "and, you know, Phoebe is in the +next room if I want her." + +"I know what you'd like," said Rosy, and off she flew. In two minutes +she was back again with something in her arms. It was Manchon! She +laid him gently down at the foot of Bee's bed. "He's so 'squisitely +clean, you know," she went on, "and I know you're fond of him." + +"_Very_" said Bee, with great satisfaction. + +"I like him better than I did," said Rosy, "but still I think he's a +sort of a fairy. Why, it shows he is, for now that I'm so good--I mean +now that I'm going to be good always--he seems to like me ever so much +better. He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said +'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon,' he let me take him as good +as good." + +But that evening brought still better company for Bee. + +She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the +morning who do you think was standing beside her? Dear little Fixie, +his white face ever so much rounder and rosier, and kind Martha, both +smiling with pleasure at seeing her again, though feeling sorry, too, +that she was ill. + +"Zou'll soon be better, Bee, and Fixie will be so good to you, and +then p'raps we'll go again to that nice place where we've been, for +you to get kite well." + +So Bee, after all, did not feel at all dull or lonely when Rosy came +in to say good-bye, in Bee's pretty dress. And Mrs. Vincent, and even +Miss Vincent, kissed her so kindly! Even Nelson, I forgot to say, had +put her head in at the door to ask how she was; and when Bee answered +her nicely, as she always did, she came in for a moment to tell her +how sorry she was Bee could not go to the fete. "For I must say, Miss +Bee," she added, "I must say as I think you've acted very pretty, very +pretty, indeed, about lending your dress to dear Miss Rosy, bless her." + +"And, if there's anything I can do for you--" Here Bee's breakfast +coming in interrupted her, which Bee, on the whole, was not sorry for. + +She did not see Rosy that evening, for it was late when they came +home, and she was already asleep. But the next morning Bee woke much +better, and quite able to listen to Rosy's account of it all. She had +enjoyed it very much--of course not _as_ much as if Bee had been +there too, she said; but Lady Esther had thought it so sweet of Bee to +beg for Rosy to go, and she had sent her the loveliest little basket +of bonbons, tied up with pink ribbons, that ever was seen, and still +better, she had told Rosy that she had serious thoughts of having a +large Christmas-tree party next winter, at which all the children +should be dressed out of the fairy tales. + +"Wouldn't it be lovely?" said Rosy. "We were thinking perhaps you +would be Red Riding Hood, and I the white cat. But we can look over +all the fairy tales and think about it when you're better, can't we, +Bee?" + +Beata got better much more quickly than Fixie had done. The first day +she was well enough to be up she begged leave to write two little +letters, one to her mother and one to Colin, who had been very kind; +for while she was ill he had written twice to her, which for a +schoolboy was a great deal, I think. His letters were meant to be very +amusing; but, as they were full of cricket and football, Bee did not +find them very easy to understand. She was sitting at the +nursery-table, thinking what she could say to show Colin she liked to +hear about his games, even though the names puzzled her a little, when +Fixie came and stood by her, looking rather melancholy. + +"What's the matter?" she said. + +"Zou's writing such a long time," said Fixie, "and Rosy's still at her +lessons. I zought when zou was better zou'd play wif me." + +"I can't play much," said Bee, "for I've still got a funny buzzy +feeling in my head, and I'm rather tired." + +"Yes, I know," said Fixie, with great sympathy, "mine head was like +fousands of trains when I was ill. We won't play, Bee, we'll only +talk." + +"Well, I'll just finish my letter," said Bee. "I'll just tell Colin he +must tell me all about innings and outings, and all that, when he +comes home. Yes--that'll do. "Your affectionate--t-i-o-n-a-t-e--Bee." +Now I'll talk to you, Fixie. What a pity we haven't got Rosy's beads +to tell stories about!" + +A queer look came into Fixie's face. + +"Rosy's beads," he said. + +"Yes, Rosy's necklace that was lost. And you didn't know where it was +gone when Martha asked you--when your mother wrote a letter about it." + +As she spoke, she drew their two little chairs to what had always been +their favourite corner, near a window, which was low enough for them +to look out into the pretty garden. + +"Don't sit there," said Fixie, "I don't like there." + +"Why not? Don't you remember we were sitting here the last afternoon +we were in the nursery--before you went away. You liked it then, when +I told you stories about the beads, before they were lost." + +"Before _zem_ was lost," said Fixie, his face again taking the +troubled, puzzled look; "I didn't know it was _zem_--I mean it +was somefin else of Rosy's that was lost--lace for her neck, that I'd +_never_ seen." + +Bee's heart began to beat faster with a strange hope. She had seen +Fixie's face looking troubled, and she remembered Martha saying how +her questioning about the necklace had upset him, and it seemed almost +cruel to go on talking about it. But a feeling had come over her that +there was something to find out, and now it grew stronger and +stronger. + +"Lace for Rosy's neck," she repeated, "no, Fixie, you must be +mistaken. Lace for her neck--" and then a sudden idea struck her,--"can +you mean a _necklace?_ Don't you know that a necklace means +beads?" + +Fixie stared at her for a moment, growing very red. Then the redness +finished up, like a thundercloud breaking into rain, by his bursting +into tears, and hiding his face in Bee's lap. + +"I didn't know, I didn't know," he cried, "I thought it was some lace +that Martha meant. I didn't mean to tell a' untrue, Bee. I didn't like +Martha asking me, 'cos it made me think of the beads I'd lost, and I +thought p'raps I'd get them up again when I came home, but I can't. +I've poked and poked, and I think the mouses have eatened zem." + +By degrees Bee found out what the poor little fellow meant. The +morning after the afternoon when Bee and he had had the necklace, and +Bee had put it safely back, he had, unknown to any one, fetched it +again for himself, and sat playing with it by the nursery-window, in +the corner where the hole in the floor was. Out of idleness, he had +amused himself by holding the string of beads at one end, and dropping +them down the mysterious hole, "like fishing," he said, till, +unluckily, he had dropped them in altogether; and there, no doubt, +they were still lying! He was frightened at what he had done, but he +meant to tell Bee, and ask her advice. But that very afternoon the +doctor came, and he was separated from the other children; and, while +he was ill, he seemed to have forgotten about it. When Martha +questioned him at the seaside, he had no idea she was speaking of the +beads; but he did not like her questions, because they made him +remember what he _had_ lost. And then he thought he would try to +get the beads out of the hole by poking with a stick when he came +home; but he had found he could not manage it, and then he had taken a +dislike to that part of the room. + +All this was told with many sobs and tears, but Bee soothed him as +well as she could; and when his mother soon after came to the nursery +and heard the story, she was very kind indeed, and made him see how +even little wrong-doings, like taking the beads to play with without +leave, always bring unhappiness; and still more, how wise and right it +is for children to tell at once when they have done wrong, instead of +trying to put the wrong right themselves. That was all she said, +except that, as she kissed her poor little boy, she told him to tell +no one else about it, except Martha, and that she would see what could +be done. + +Bee and Fixie said no more about it; but on that account, I daresay, +like the famous parrot, "they thought the more." And once or twice +that afternoon, Fixie _could_ not help whispering to Bee, +"_Do_ you fink mamma's going to get the beads hooked out?" or, "I +hope they won't hurt the mouses that lives down in the hole. _Do_ +you fink the mouses has eaten it, p'raps?" + +Beata was sent early to bed, as she was not yet, of course, counted as +quite well; and both she and Fixie slept very soundly--whether they +dreamt of Rosy's beads or not I cannot tell. + +But the next morning Bee felt so much better that she begged to get up +quite early. + +"Not till after you've had your breakfast, Miss Bee," said Martha. +"But Mrs. Vincent says you may get up as soon as you like after that, +and then you and Miss Rosy and Master Fixie are all to go to her room. +She has something to show you." + +Bee and Fixie looked at each other. They felt sure _they_ knew +what it was! But Rosy, who had also come to Bee's room to see how she +was, looked very mystified. + +"I wonder what it can be," she said. "Can it be a parcel come for us? +And oh, Martha, by-the-bye, what was that knocking in the nursery last +night after we were in bed? I heard Robert's voice, I'm sure. What was +he doing?" + +"He came up to nail down something that was loose," said Martha, +quietly; but that was all she would say. + +They all three marched off to Mrs. Vincent's room as soon as Beata was +up and dressed. She was waiting for them. + +"I am so glad you are so much better this morning, Bee," she said, as +she kissed them all; "and now" she went on, "look here, I have a +surprise for you all." She lifted a handkerchief which she had laid +over something on a little table; and the three children, as they +pressed forward, could hardly believe their eyes. For there lay Rosy's +necklace, as bright and pretty as ever, and there beside it lay +another, just like it at the first glance, though, when it was closely +examined, one could see that the patterns on the beads were different; +but any way it was just as pretty. + +"Two," exclaimed Fixie, "_two_ lace-beads, what _is_ the +name? Has the mouses made a new one for Bee, dear Bee?" + +"Yes, for dear Bee," said his mother, smiling, "it is for Bee, though +it didn't come from the mouses;" and then she explained to them how +"Mr. Furniture" had sent the second necklace for Bee, but that she had +thought it better to keep it a while in hopes of Rosy's being found, +as she knew that Bee's pleasure in the pretty beads would not have +been half so great if Rosy were without hers. + +How happy they all looked! + +"What lotses of fairy stories we can make now!" said Fixie--"one for +every bead-lace, Bee!" + +"And, mamma," said Rosy, "I'll keep on being very good now. I daresay +I'll be dreadfully good soon; and Bee will be always good too, now, +because you know we've got our talismans." + +Mrs. Vincent smiled, but she looked a little grave. + +"What is it, mamma?" said Rosy. "Should I say talis_men_, not +talismans?" + +Her mother smiled more this time. + +"No, it wasn't that. 'Talismans' is quite right. I was only thinking +that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your +head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any +little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your +own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can +really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes +from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't +you, Rosy?" + +Rosy got a little red, and looked rather grave. + +"I _nearly_ always remember to say my prayers," she answered. + +"Well, let the 'talisman' help you to remember, if ever you are +inclined to forget. And it isn't _only_ at getting-up time and +going-to-bed time that one may _pray_, as I have often told you, +dear children. I really think, Rosy," she went on more lightly, "that +it would be nice for you and Bee to wear your necklaces always. I +shall like to see them, and I believe it would be almost impossible to +spoil or break them." + +"Only for my fairy stories," said Fixie, "I should have to walk all +round Bee and Rosy to see the beads. You will let them take them off, +_sometimes_, won't you, mamma?" + +"Yes, my little man, provided you promise not to send them visits down +the 'mouses' holes,'" said his mother, laughing. + +This is all I can tell you for the present about Rosy and her brothers +and little Bee. There is more to tell, as you can easily fancy, for, +of course, Rosy did not grow "quite good" all of a sudden, though +there certainly was a great difference to be seen in her from the time +of her narrow escape--nor was Beata, in spite of _her_ talisman, +without faults and failings. Nor was either of them without sorrows +and disappointments and difficulties in their lives, bright and happy +though they were. If you have been pleased with what I have told you, +you must let me know, and I shall try to tell you some more. + +And again, dear children,--little friends, whom I love so much, though +I may never have seen your faces, and though you only know me as +somebody who is _very_ happy, when her little stories please +you--again, my darlings, I wish you the merriest of merry Christmases +for 1882, and every blessing in the new year that will soon be coming! + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + +***** This file should be named 6676.txt or 6676.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/7/6676/ + +Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from +images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation +Department Digital Library. 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Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Rosy + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6676] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 12, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + + + + +Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. +This file was produced from images generously made available by the CWRU +Preservation Department Digital Library + + + + + + + +ROSY + +BY + +MRS. MOLESWORTH + +AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY.' + + +ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: MANCHON] + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I. ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX + +CHAPTER II. BEATA + +CHAPTER III. TEARS + +CHAPTER IV. UPS AND DOWNS + +CHAPTER V. ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER + +CHAPTER VI. A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM + +CHAPTER VII. MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT + +CHAPTER VIII. HARD TO BEAR + +CHAPTER IX. THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR + +CHAPTER X. STINGS FOR BEE + +CHAPTER XI. A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT + +CHAPTER XII. GOOD OUT OF EVIL + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +MANCHON + +"BEATA, DEAR, THIS IS MY ROSY," SHE SAID + +ROSY AND MANCHON + +"WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?" HE SAID + +"DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?" ROSY REPEATED + +"WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?" SAID FIXIE + +BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH THEM + +"IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +ROSY, COLIN, AND FELIX. + + + "The highest not more + Than the height of a counsellor's bag." +--WORDSWORTH. + +Rosy stood at the window. She drummed on the panes with her little fat +fingers in a fidgety cross way; she pouted out her nice little mouth +till it looked quite unlike itself; she frowned down with her eyebrows +over her two bright eyes, making them seem like two small windows in a +house with very overhanging roofs; and last of all, she stamped on the +floor with first her right foot and then with her left. But it was all +to no purpose, and this made Rosy still more vexed. + +"Mamma," she said at last, for really it was too bad--wasn't it?--when +she had given herself such a lot of trouble to show how vexed she was, +that no one should take any notice. "_Mamma_" she repeated. + +But still no one answered, and obliged at last to turn round, for her +patience was at an end, Rosy saw that there was no one in the room. +Mamma had gone away! That was a great shame--really a _great_ +shame. Rosy was offended, and she wanted mamma to see how offended she +was, and mamma chose just that moment to leave the room. Rosy looked +round--there was no good going on pouting and frowning and drumming +and stamping to make mamma notice her if mamma wasn't there, and all +that sort of going on caused Rosy a good deal of trouble. So she left +off. But she wanted to quarrel with somebody. In fact, she felt that +she _must_ quarrel with somebody. She looked round again. The +only "somebody" to be seen was mamma's big, _big_ Persian cat, +whose name was "Manchon" (_why_, Rosy did not know; she thought +it a very stupid name), of whom, to tell the truth, Rosy was rather +afraid. For Manchon could look very grand and terrible when he reared +up his back, and swept about his magnificent tail; and though he had +never been known to hurt anybody, and mamma said he was the gentlest +of animals, Rosy felt sure that he could do all sorts of things to +punish his enemies if he chose. And knowing in her heart that she did +not like him, that she was indeed sometimes rather jealous of him, +Rosy always had a feeling that she must not take liberties with him, +as she could not help thinking he knew what she felt. + +[Illustration: ROSY AND MANCHON] + +No, Manchon would not do to quarrel with. She stood beside his cushion +looking at him, but she did not venture to pull his tail or pinch his +ears, as she would rather have liked to do. And Manchon looked up at +her sleepily, blinking his eyes as much as to say, "What a silly +little girl you are," in a way that made Rosy more angry still. + +"I don't like you, you ugly old cat," she said, "and you know I don't. +And I shan't like _her_. You needn't make faces at me," as +Manchon, disturbed in his afternoon nap, blinked again and gave a sort +of discontented mew. "I don't care for your faces, and I don't care +what mamma says, and I don't care for all the peoples in the world, I +_won't_ like her;" and then, without considering that there was +no one near to see or to hear except Manchon, Rosy stamped her little +feet hard, and repeated in a louder voice, "No, I won't, I +_won't_ like her." + +But some one had heard her after all. A little figure, smaller than +Rosy even, was standing in the doorway, looking at her with a troubled +face, but not seeming very surprised. + +"Losy," it said, "tea's seady. Fix is comed for you." + +"Then Fix may go away again. Rosy doesn't want any tea. Rosy's too +bovvered and vexed. Go away, Fix." + +But "Fix," as she called him, and as he called himself, didn't move. +Only the trouble in his delicate little face grew greater. + +"_Is_ you bovvered, Losy?" he said. "Fix is welly solly," and he +came farther into the room. "Losy," he said again, still more gently +than before, "_do_ come to tea. Fix doesn't like having his tea +when Losy isn't there, and Fix is tired to-day." + +Rosy looked at him a moment. Then a sudden change came over her. She +stooped down and threw her arms round the little boy's neck and hugged +him. + +"Poor Fixie, dear Fixie," she said. "Rosy will come if _you_ want +her. Fixie never bovvers Rosy. Fixie loves Rosy, doesn't he?" + +"Ses," said the child, kissing her in return, "but please don't skeese +Fix _kite_ so tight," and he wriggled a little to get out of her +grasp. Instantly the frown came back to Rosy's changeable face. + +"You cross little thing," she said, half flinging her little brother +away from her, "you don't love Rosy. If you did, you wouldn't call her +cuddling you _skeesing_." + +Fix's face puckered up, and he looked as if he were going to cry. But +just then steps were heard coming, and a boy's voice called out, "Fix, +Fix, what a time you are! If Rosy isn't there, never mind her. Come +along. There's something good for tea." + +"There's Colin," said Fix, turning as if to run off to his brother. +Again Rosy's mood changed. + +"Don't run away from Rosy, Fix," she said. "Rosy's not cross, she's +only troubled about somefing Fix is too little to understand. Take +Rosy's hand, dear, and we'll go up to tea togever. Never mind +Colin--he's such a big rough boy;" and when Colin, in his turn, +appeared at the door, Rosy and Fix were already coming towards it, +hand-in-hand, Rosy the picture of a model little elder sister. + +Colin just glanced at them and ran off. + +"Be quick," he said, "or I'll eat it all before you come. There's +fluff for tea--strawberry fluff! At least I've been smelling it all +the afternoon, and I saw a little pot going upstairs, and Martha said +cook said it was for the children!" + +Colin, however, was doomed to be disappointed. + +There was no appearance of anything "better" than bread and butter on +the nursery table, and in answer to the boy's questions, Martha said +there was nothing else. + +"But the little pot, Martha, the little pot," insisted Colin. "I heard +you yourself say to cook, 'Then this is for the children?'" + +"Well, yes, Master Colin, and so I did, and so it is for you. But I +didn't say it was for to-day--it's for to-morrow, Sunday." + +"Whoever heard of such a thing," said Colin. "Fluff won't keep. It +should be eaten at once." + +"But it's jam, Master Colin. It's regular jam in the little pot. I +don't know anything about the fluff, as you call it. I suppose they've +eaten it in the kitchen." + +"Well, then, it's a shame," said Colin. "It's all the new cook. I've +always been accustomed, always, to have the fluff sent up to the +nursery," and he thumped impressively on the table. + +"In all your places, Master Colin, it was always so, wasn't it?" said +Martha, with a twinkle of fun in her eyes. + +"You're very impettnent, Martha," said Rosy, looking up suddenly, and +speaking for the first time since she had come into the room. + +"Nonsense, Rosy," said Colin. "_I_ don't mind. Martha was only +joking." + +Rosy relapsed into silence, to Martha's relief. + +"If Miss Rosy is going to begin!" she had said to herself with fear +and trembling. She seldom or never ventured to joke with Rosy--few +people who knew her did--but Colin was the most good-natured of +children. She looked at Rosy rather curiously, taking care, however, +that the little girl should not notice it. + +"There's something the matter with her," thought Martha, for Rosy +looked really buried in gloom; "perhaps her mamma's been telling her +what she told me this morning. I was sure Miss Rosy wouldn't like it, +and perhaps it's natural, so spoilt as she's been, having everything +her own way for so long. One would be sorry for her if she'd only let +one," and her voice was kind and gentle as she asked the little girl +if she wouldn't like some more tea. + +Rosy shook her head. + +"I don't want nothing," she said. + +"What's the matter, Rosy?" said Colin. + +"Losy's bovvered," said Fixie. + +Colin gave a whistle. + +"Oh!" he said, meaningly, "I expect I know what it's all about. I +know, too, Rosy. You're afraid your nose is going to be put out of +joint, I expect." + +"Master Colin, don't," said Martha, warningly, but it was too late. +Rosy dashed off her seat, and running round to Colin's side of the +table, doubled up her little fist, and hit her brother hard with all +her baby force, then, without waiting to see if she had hurt him or +not, she rushed from the room without speaking, made straight for her +own little bedroom, and, throwing herself down on the floor with her +head on a chair, burst into a storm of miserable, angry crying. + +"I wish I was back with auntie--oh, I do, I do," she said, among her +sobs. "Mamma doesn't love me like Colin and Pixie. If she did, she +wouldn't go and bring a nasty, horrible little girl to live with us. I +hate her, and I shall always hate her--_nasty_ little thing!" + +The nursery was quiet after Rosy left it--quiet but sad. + +"Dear, dear," said Martha, "if people would but think what they're +doing when they spoil children! Poor Miss Rosy, but she is naughty! +Has it hurt you, Master Colin?" + +"No," said Colin, _one_ of whose eyes nevertheless was crying +from Rosy's blow, "not much. But it's so _horrid_, going on like +this." + +"Of course it is, and _why_ you can go on teasing your sister, +knowing her as you do, I can't conceive," said Martha. "If it was only +for peace sake, I'd let her alone, I would, if I was you, Master +Colin." + +Martha had rather a peevish and provoking way of finding fault or +giving advice. Just now her voice sounded almost as if she was going +to cry. But Colin was a sensible boy. He knew what she said was true, +so he swallowed down his vexation, and answered good-naturedly, + +"Well, I'll try and not tease. But Rosy isn't like anybody else. She +flies into a rage for just nothing, and it's always those people +somehow that make one _want_ to tease them. But, I say, Martha, I +really do _wonder_ how we'll get on when--" + +A warning glance stopped him, and he remembered that little Felix knew +nothing of what he was going to speak about, and that his mother did +not wish anything more said of it just yet. So Colin said no more--he +just whistled, as he always did if he was at a loss about anything, +but his whistle sometimes seemed to say a good deal. + +How was it that Colin was so good-tempered and reasonable, Felix so +gentle and obedient, and Rosy, poor Rosy, so very different? For they +were her very own brothers, she was their very own sister. There must +have been some difference, I suppose, naturally. Rosy had always been +a fiery little person, but the great pity was that she had been sadly +spoilt. For some years she had been away from her father and mother, +who had been abroad in a warm climate, where delicate little Felix was +born. They had not dared to take Colin and Rosy with them, but Colin, +who was already six years old when they left England, had had the good +fortune to be sent to a very nice school, while Rosy had stayed +altogether with her aunt, who had loved her dearly, but in wishing to +make her perfectly happy had made the mistake of letting her have her +own way in everything. And when she was eight years old, and her +parents came home, full of delight to have their children all together +again, the disappointment was great of finding Rosy so unlike what +they had hoped. And as months passed, and all her mother's care and +advice and gentle firmness seemed to have no effect, Rosy's true +friends began to ask themselves what should be done. The little girl +was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other +people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what +Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead +of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I +will soon tell you what it was. + +Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper +tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is +_nothing_ more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid +kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. Not like +the rather _nice_ tiredness one feels when one has been working +hard either at one's own business, or, _still_ nicer, at helping +other people--the sort of pleasant fatigue with which one lays one's +head on the pillow, feeling that all the lessons are learnt, and well +learnt, for to-morrow morning, or that the bit of garden is quite, +quite clear of weeds, and father or mother will be so pleased to see +it! But to fall half asleep on the floor, or on your bed, with +wearied, swollen eyes, and panting breath and aching head, feeling or +fancying that no one loves you--that the world is all wrong, and there +is nothing sweet or bright or pretty in it, no place for you, and no +use in being alive--all these _miserable_ feelings that are the +natural and the right punishment of yielding to evil tempers, +forgetting selfishly all the pain and trouble you cause--what +_can_ be more wretched? Indeed, I often think no punishment that +can be given can be half so bad as the punishment that comes of +itself--that is joined to the sin by ties that can never be undone. +And the shame of it all! Rosy was not quite what she had been when she +first came home to her mother--she was beginning to feel ashamed when +she had yielded to her temper--and even this, though a small +improvement, was always something--one little step in the right way, +one little sign of better things. + +She was not asleep--scarcely half asleep, only stupid and dazed with +crying--when the door opened softly, and some one peeped in. It was +Fixie. He came creeping in very quietly--when was Fixie anything but +quiet?--and with a very distressed look on his tiny, white face. +Something came over Rosy--a mixture of shame and sorrow, and also some +curiosity to see what her little brother would do; and these feelings +mixed together made her shut her eyes tighter and pretend to be +asleep. + +Fixie came close up to her, peeped almost into her face, so that if +she had been really asleep I rather think it would have awakened her, +except that all he did was so _very_ gentle and like a little +mouse; and then, quite satisfied that she was fast asleep, he slowly +settled himself down on the floor by her side. + +"Poor Losy," he said softly. "Fixie are so solly for you. Poor +Losy--why can't her be good? Why doesn't God make Losy good all in a +minute? Fixie always akses God to make her good"--he stopped in his +whispered talk, suddenly--he had fancied for a moment that Rosy was +waking, and it was true that she had moved. She had given a sort of +wriggle, for, sweet and gentle as Fixie was, she did not at all like +being spoken of as _not_ good. She didn't see why he need pray to +God to make _her_ good, more than other people, she said to +herself, and for half a second she was inclined to jump up and tell +Pix to go away; it wasn't his business whether she was good or +naughty, and she wouldn't have him in her room. But she did _not_ +do so,--she lay still again, and she was glad she had, for poor Fixie +stopped in his talking to pat her softly. + +"Don't wake, poor Losy," he said. "Go on sleeping, Losy, if you are so +tired, and Fix will watch aside you and take care of you." + +He seemed to have forgotten all about her being naughty--he sat beside +her, patting her softly, and murmuring a sort of cooing "Hush, hush, +Losy," as if she were a baby, that was very touching, like the murmur +of a sad little dove. And by and by, with going on repeating it so +often, his own head began to feel confused and drowsy--it dropped +lower and lower, and at last found a resting-place on Rosy's knees. +Rosy, who had really been getting sleepy, half woke up when she felt +the weight of her little brother's head and shoulder upon her--she +moved him a little so that he should lie more comfortably, and put one +arm round him. + +"Dear Fixie," she said to herself, "I do love him, and I'm sure he +loves me," and her face grew soft and gentle--and when Rosy's face +looked like that it was very pretty and sweet. But it quickly grew +dark and gloomy again as another thought struck her. "If Fixie loves +that nasty little girl better than me or as much--if he loves her +_at all_, I'll--I don't know what I'll do. I'd almost hate him, +and I'm sure I'll hate her, any way. Mamma says she's such a dear good +little girl--that means that everybody'll say _I'm_ naughtier +than ever." + +But just then Fixie moved a little and whispered something in his +sleep. + +"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught +the sound of her voice. + +"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again. + +And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BEATA. + + + "How will she be--fair-haired or dark, + Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet? + --All that I care not for, so she be no phraser." +--OLD PLAY. + +"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin, +She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and +Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And +what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she +caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight. + +"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it +doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds +of times. It's nothing, only--" and Colin gave a sort of wriggle. + +"Only what?" said his mother. + +"I do so wish Rosy wouldn't be like that. It spoils everything. Just +this Easter holiday time too, when I thought we'd be so happy." + +His mother's face grew still graver. + +"Do you mean that it was _Rosy_ that struck you--that hit you in +the eye?" she said. + +Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I +teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put +out of joint when Be--I can't say her name--when the little girl +comes." + +"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained +to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I +thought you would have tried to help me, Colin." + +Colin felt very vexed with himself. + +"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I +could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the +way, and one has to learn not to mind it." + +"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn +not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just +now, especially not about little Beata." + +"Mother," said Colin. + +"Well, my boy," said his mother. + +"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say." + +"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I +daresay you can call her so." + +"Yes, that would be much better," said Colin, in a more contented +tone. + +"Only," said his mother again, and she couldn't help smiling a little +when she said it, "if you call her 'Bee,' don't make it the beginning +of any new teasing by calling Rosy 'Wasp.'" + +"Mother!" said Colin. "I daresay I would never have thought of it. But +I promise you I won't." + +This was what had upset Rosy so terribly--the coming of little Beata. +She--Beata--was the child of friends of Rosy's parents. They had been +much together in India, and had returned to England at the same time. +So Beata was already well known to Rosy's mother, and Fixie, too, had +learnt to look upon her almost as a sister. Beata's father and mother +were obliged to go back to India, and it had been settled that their +little girl was to be left at home with her grandmother. But just a +short time before they were to leave, her grandmother had a bad +illness, and it was found she would not be well enough to take charge +of the child. And in the puzzle about what they should do with her, it +had struck her father and mother that perhaps their friends, Rosy's +parents, might be able to help them, and they had written to ask them; +and so it had come about that little Beata was to come to live with +them. It had all seemed so natural and nice. Rosy's mother was so +pleased about it, for she thought it would be just what Rosy needed to +make her a pleasanter and more reasonable little girl. + +"Beata is such a nice child," she said to Rosy's father when they were +talking about it, "and not one bit spoilt. I think it is _sure_ +to do Rosy good," and, full of pleasure in the idea, she told Rosy +about it. + +But--one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him +drink, says the old proverb--Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the +very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming +was on purpose to vex _her_, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most +things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what +had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her--when she would +have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! + +Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say +no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as +he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his +delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing +in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt +by her _exactingness_. Fixie must love her as much or better than +anybody--he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. +That was how she sometimes talked to him, and it puzzled and +frightened him--he was such a very little fellow, you see. And +_mother_ had never told him that loving other people too made his +love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata +had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to +say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy +must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had +been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. + +Rosy's mother thought over what Colin had told her, and settled in her +own mind that it was better to take no notice of it in speaking to +Rosy. + +"If it had been a quarrel about anything else," she said to herself, +"it would have been different. But about Beata I want to say nothing +more to vex Rosy, or wake her unkind feelings." + +But Rosy's mother did not yet quite know her little girl. There was +one thing about her which was _not_ spoilt, and that was her +honesty. + +When the children came down that morning to see their mother, as they +always did, a little after breakfast, Rosy's face wore a queer look. + +"Good morning, little people," said their mother. "I was rather late +this morning, do you know? That was why I didn't come to see you in +the nursery. I am going to write to your aunt to-day. Would you like +to put in a little letter, Rosy?" + +"No, thank you," said Rosy. + +"Then shall I just send your love? and Fixie's too?" said her mother. +She went on speaking because she noticed the look in Rosy's face, but +she wanted not to seem to do so, thinking Rosy would then gradually +forget about it all. + +"I don't want to send my love," said Rosy. "If you say I _must_, +I suppose I must, but I don't _want_ to send it." + +"Do you think your love is not worth having, my poor little girl?" +said her mother, smiling a little sadly, as she drew Rosy to her. +"Don't you believe we all love you, Rosy, and want you to love us?" + +"I don't know," said Rosy, gloomily. "I don't think anybody can love +me, for Martha's always saying if I do naughty things _you_ won't +love me and father won't love me, and nobody." + +"Then why don't you leave off doing naughty things, Rosy?" said her +mother. + +"Oh, I can't," Rosy replied, coolly. "I suppose I was spoilt at +auntie's, and now I'm too old to change. I don't care. It isn't my +fault: it's auntie's." + +"Rosy," said her mother, gravely, "who ever said so to you? Where did +you ever hear such a thing?" + +"Lots of times," Rosy replied. "Martha's said so, and Colin says so +when he's vexed with me. He's always said so," she added, as if she +didn't quite like owning it, but felt that she must. "He said I was +spoilt before you came home, but auntie wouldn't let him. _She_ +thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she +thought so too. + +"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if +you ask _yourself_, Rosy, you will very often find that you are +not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it +is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You +must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt +was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her." + +"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit +Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. I was going to tell you--I meant to +tell you." + +"And are you sorry for it now, Rosy dear?" asked her mother, very +gently. + +Rosy looked at her in surprise. Her mother spoke so gently. She had +rather expected her to be shocked--she had almost, if you can +understand, _wished_ her to be shocked, so that she could say to +herself how naughty everybody thought her, how it was no use her +trying to be good and all the rest of it--and she had told over what +she had done in a hard, _un_sorry way, almost on purpose. But +now, when her mother spoke so kindly, a different feeling came into +her heart. She looked at her mother, and then she looked down on the +ground, and then, almost to her own surprise, she answered, almost +humbly, + +"I don't know. I don't think I was, but I think I am a little sorry +now." + +Seeing her so unusually gentle, her mother went a little further. +"What made you so vexed with Colin?" she asked. Rosy's face hardened. + +"Mother," she said, "you'd better not ask me. It was because of +something he said that I don't want to tell you." + +"About Beata?" asked her mother. + +"Well," said Rosy, "if you know about it, it isn't my fault if you are +vexed. I don't want her to come--I don't want _any_ little girl +to come, because I know I shan't like her. I like boys better than +girls, and I don't like good little girls _at all_." + +"Rosy," said her mother, "you are talking so sillily that if Fixie +even talked like that I should be quite surprised. I won't answer you. +I will not say any more about Beata--you know what I wish, and what is +right, and so I will leave it to you. And I will give you a kiss, my +little girl, to show you that I want to trust you to try to do right +about this." + +She was stooping to kiss her, when Rosy stopped her. + +"Thank you, mother," she said. "But I don't think I can take the kiss +like that--I don't _want_ to like the little girl." + +"Rosy!" exclaimed her mother, almost in despair. Then another thought +struck her. She bent down again and kissed the child. "I _give_ +you the kiss, Rosy," she said, "hoping it will at least make you +_wish_ to please me." + +"Oh," said Rosy, "I do want to please you, mother, about everything +_except_ that." + +But her mother thought it best to take no further notice, only in her +own heart she said to herself, "Was there _ever_ such a child?" + +In spite of all she had said Rosy felt, what she would not have owned +for the world, a good deal of curiosity about the little girl who was +to come to live with them. And now and then, in her cross and unhappy +moods, a sort of strange confused _hope_ would creep over her +that Beata's coming would bring her a kind of good luck. + +"Everybody says she's so good, and everybody loves her," thought Rosy, +"p'raps I'll find out how she does it." + +And the days passed on, on the whole, after the storm I have told you +about, rather more peaceably than before, till one evening when Rosy +was saying good-night her mother said to her quietly, + +"Rosy, I had a letter this morning from Beata's uncle; he is bringing +her to-morrow. She will be here about four o'clock in the afternoon." + +"To-morrow!" said Rosy, and then, without saying any more, she kissed +her mother and went to bed. + +She went to sleep that evening, and she woke the next morning with a +strange jumble of feelings in her mind, and a strange confusion of +questions waiting to be answered. + +"What would Beata be like? She was sure to be pretty--all people that +other people love very much were pretty, Rosy thought. And she +believed that she herself was very ugly, which, I may tell you, +children, as Rosy won't hear what we say, was quite a mistake. +Everybody is a _little_ pretty who is sweet and good, for though +being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the +shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines +smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives +the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, +alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away +the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good +fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to +be pretty. She had very soft bright hair, and a very white skin, and +large brown eyes that looked lovely when she let sweet thoughts and +feelings shine through them; but though she had many faults, she was +not vain, and she really thought she was not pleasant-looking at all. + +"Beata is sure to be pretty," thought Rosy. "I daresay she'll have +beautiful black hair, and blue eyes like Lady Albertine." Albertine +was Rosy's best doll. "And I daresay she'll be very clever, and play +the piano and speak French far better than me. I don't mind that. I +like pretty people, and I don't mind people being clever. What I don't +like is, people who are dedfully _good_ always going on about how +good they are, and how naughty _other_ people is. If she doesn't +do that way I shan't mind so much, but I'm sure she _will_ do +that way. Yes, Manchon," she said aloud, "I'm sure she will, and you +needn't begin 'froo'in' about it." + +For Rosy was in the drawing-room when all these thoughts were passing +through her mind--she was there with her afternoon frock on, and a +pretty muslin apron, all nice to meet Beata and her uncle, who were +expected very soon. And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite +peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any +good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," +she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the +cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the +credit of reading her very thoughts! + +The door opened, and her mother came in, leading Fixie by the hand and +Colin just behind. + +"Oh, you're ready, Rosy," she said. "That's right. They should be here +very soon." + +"Welly soon," repeated Fixie. "Oh, Fixie will be so glad to see Beenie +again!" + +"What a stupid name," said Rosy. "_We_'re not to call her that, +are we, mother?" + +She spoke in rather a grand, grown-up tone, but her mother knew she +put that on sometimes when she was not really feeling unkind. + +"_I_ shall call her Bee," said Colin. "It would do very well, as +we've"--he stopped suddenly--"as we've got a wasp already," he had +been going to say--it seemed to come so naturally--when his mother's +warning came back to his mind. He caught her eye, and he saw that she +couldn't help smiling and he found it so difficult not to burst out +laughing that he stuffed his pocket-handkerchief into his mouth, and +went to the window, where he pretended to see something very +interesting. Rosy looked up suspiciously. + +"What were you going to say, Colin?" she asked. "I'm sure--" but she +too stopped, for just then wheels were heard on the gravel drive +outside. + +"Here they are," said mother. "Will you come to the door to welcome +Beata, Rosy?" + +Rosy came forward, though rather slowly. Colin was already out in the +hall, and Fixie was dancing along beside his mother. Rosy kept behind. +The carriage, that had gone to the station to meet the travellers, was +already at the door, and the footman was handing out one or two +umbrellas, rugs, and so on. Then a gray-haired gentleman, whom Rosy, +peeping through a side window, did not waste her attention on--"He is +quite old," she said to herself--got out, and lifted down a much +smaller person--smaller than Rosy herself, and a good deal smaller +than the Beata of Rosy's fancies. The little person sprang forward, +and was going to kiss Rosy's mother, when she caught sight of the tiny +white face beside her. + +"O Fixie, dear little Fixie!" she said, stooping to hug him, and then +she lifted her own face for Fixie's mother to kiss. At once, almost +before shaking hands with the gentleman, Rosy's mother looked round +for her, and Rosy had to come forward. + +"Beata, dear, this is my Rosy," she said; and something in the tone of +the "my" touched Rosy. It seemed to say, "I will put no one before +you, my own little girl--no stranger, however sweet--and you will, on +your side, try to please me, will you not?" So Rosy's face, though +grave, had a nice look the first time Beata saw it, and the first +words she said as they kissed each other were, "O Rosy, how pretty you +are! I shall love you very much." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +TEARS. + + + "'Twere most ungrateful."--V. S. LAKDOH. + +Beata was not pretty. That was the first thing Rosy decided about her. +She was small, and rather brown and thin. She had dark hair, certainly +like Lady Albertine's in colour, but instead of splendid curls it was +cut quite short--as short almost as Colin's--and her eyes were neither +very large nor very blue. They were nice gray eyes, that could look +sad, but generally looked merry, and about the rest of her face there +was nothing very particular. + +Rosy looked at her for a moment or two, and she looked at Rosy. Then +at last Rosy said, + +"Will you come into the drawing-room?" for she saw that her mother and +Beata's uncle were already on their way there. + +"Thank you," said Beata, and then they quietly followed the big +people. Rosy's father was not at home, but he would be back soon, her +mother was telling the gray-haired gentleman, and then she went on to +ask him how "they" had got off, if it had been comfortably, and so on. + +"Oh yes," he replied, "it was all quite right. Poor Maud!--" + +"That's my mamma," said Beata in a low voice, and Rosy, turning +towards her, saw that her eyes were full of tears. + +"What a queer little girl she is!" thought Rosy, but she did not say +so. + +"--Poor Maud," continued the gentleman. "It is a great comfort to her +to leave the child in such good hands." + +"I hope she will be happy," said Rosy's mother. "I will do my best to +make her so." + +"I am very sure of that," said Beata's uncle. "It is a great +disappointment to her grandmother not to have her with her. She is a +dear child. Last week at the parting she behaved like a brick." + +Both little girls heard this, and Beata suddenly began speaking rather +fast, and Rosy saw that her cheeks had got very red. + +"Do you think your mamma would mind if I went upstairs to take off my +hat? I think my face must be dirty with the train," said Beata. + +"Don't you like staying here?" said Rosy, rather crossly. "_I_ +think you should stay till mother tells is to go," for she wanted to +hear what more her mother and the gentleman said to each other, the +very thing that made Beata uncomfortable. + +Beata looked a little frightened. + +"I didn't mean to be rude," she said. Then suddenly catching sight of +Manchon, she exclaimed, "Oh, what a beautiful cat! May I go and stroke +him?" + +"If you like," said Rosy, "but he isn't _really_ a nice cat." And +then, seeing that Beata looked at her with curiosity, she forgot about +listening to the big people, and, getting up, led Beata to Manchon's +cushion. + +"Everybody says he's pretty," she went on, "but I don't think so, +because _I_ think he's a kind of bad fairy. You don't know how he +froos sometimes, in a most horrible way, as if he was mocking you. He +knows I don't like him, for whenever I'm vexed he looks pleased." + +"Does he really?" said Beata. "Then I don't like him. I shouldn't look +pleased if you were vexed, Rosy." + +"Wouldn't you?" said Rosy, doubtfully. + +"No, I'm sure I wouldn't. I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has +such an unkind dis--I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you +know." + +"Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its +only _me_ Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. _I'm_ +not the favourite. I _was_ at my aunty's though, that I was--but +it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head +dolefully. + +"Who is Nelson?" asked Beata. + +"Aunty's maid. She cried when I came away, and she said it was because +she was so sorry for me. It wouldn't be the same as _there_, she +said. I shouldn't be thought as much of with two brothers, and Nelson +knew that my mamma was dreadfully strict. I daresay she'd be still +more sorry for me if she knew--" Rosy stopped short. + +"Why don't you go on?" said Beata. + +"Oh, I was going to say something I don't want to say. Perhaps it +would vex you," said Rosy. + +Beata considered a little. + +"I'm not very easily vexed," she said at last. "I think I'd like you +to go on saying it if you don't mind--unless its anything naughty." + +"Oh no," said Rosy, "it isn't anything naughty. I was going to say +Nelson would be still more sorry for me if she knew _you_ had +come." + +"_Me!_" said Beata, opening her eyes. "Why? She can't know +anything about me--I mean she couldn't know anything to make her think +I would be unkind to you." + +"Oh no, it isn't that. Only you see some little girls would think that +if another little girl came to live with them it wouldn't be so +nice--that perhaps their mammas and brothers and everybody would pet +the other little girl more than them." + +"And do you think that?" said Beata, anxiously. A feeling like a cold +chill seemed to have touched her heart. She had never before thought +of such things--loving somebody else "better," not being "the +favourite," and so on. Could it all be true, and could it, +_worst_ of all, be true that her coming might be the cause of +trouble and vexation to other people--at least to Rosy? She had come +so full of love and gratitude, so ready to like everybody; she had +said so many times to her mother, "I'm _sure_ I'll be happy. I'll +write and tell you how happy I am," swallowing bravely the grief of +leaving her mother, and trying to cheer her at the parting by telling +her this--it seemed very hard and strange to little Beata to be told +that _anybody_ could think she could be the cause of unhappiness +to any one. "Do _you_ think that?" she repeated. + +Rosy looked at her, and something in the little eager face gave her +what she would have called a "sorry" feeling. But mixed with this was +a sense of importance--she liked to think that she was very good for +not feeling what she said "some little girls" would have felt. + +"No," she said, rather patronisingly, "I don't think I do. I only said +_some_ little girls would. No, I think I shall like you, if only +you don't make a fuss about how good you are, and set them all against +me. I settled before you came that I wouldn't mind if you were pretty +or very clever. And you're not pretty, and I daresay you're not very +clever. So I won't mind, if you don't make everybody praise you up for +being so _good_." + +Beata's eyes filled with tears. + +"I don't want anybody to praise me," she said. "I only wanted you all +to love me," and again Rosy had the sorry feeling, though she did not +feel that she was to blame. + +"I only told her what I really thought," she said to herself; but +before she had time to reflect that there are two ways of telling what +one thinks, and that sometimes it is not only foolish, but wrong and +unkind, to tell of thoughts and feelings which we should try to +_leave off_ having, her mother turned round to speak to her. + +"I think we should take Beata upstairs to her room, Rosy," she said. +"You must be tired, dear," and the kind words and tone, so like what +her own mother's would have been, made the cup of Beata's distress +overflow. She gave a little sob and then burst into tears. Rosy half +sprang forward--she was on the point of throwing her arms round Beata +and whispering, "I _will_ love you, dear, I _do_ love you;" +but alas, the strange foolish pride that so often checked her good +feelings, held her back, and jealousy whispered, "If you begin making +such a fuss about her, she'll think she's to be before you, and very +likely, if you seem so sorry, she'll tell your mother you made her +cry." So Rosy stood still, grave and silent, but with some trouble in +her face, and her mother felt a little, just a very little vexed with +Beata for beginning so dolefully. + +"It will discourage Rosy," she said to herself, "just when I was so +anxious for Beata to win her affection from the first." + +And Beata's uncle, too, looked disappointed. Just when he had been +praising her so for her bravery! + +"Why, my little girl," he said, "you didn't cry like this even when +you said good-bye at Southampton." + +"That must be it," said Rosy's mother, who was too kind to feel vexed +for more than an instant; "the poor child has put too much force on +herself, and that always makes one break down afterwards. Come, dear +Beata, and remember how much your mother wanted you to be happy with +us." + +She held out her hand, but to her surprise Beata still hung back, +clinging to her uncle. + +"Oh, please," she whispered, "let me go back with you, uncle. I don't +care how dull it is--I shall not be any trouble to grandmother while +she is ill. Do let me go back--I cannot stay here." + +Beata's uncle was kind, but he had not much experience of children. + +"Beata," he said, and his voice was almost stern, "it is impossible. +All is arranged here for you. You will be sorry afterwards for giving +way so foolishly. You would not wish to seem _ungrateful_, my +little girl, for all your kind friends here are going to do for you?" + +The word ungrateful had a magical effect. Beata raised her head from +his shoulder, and digging in her pocket for her little handkerchief, +wiped away the tears, and then looking up, her face still quivering, +said gently, "I won't cry any more, uncle; I _will_ be good. +Indeed, I didn't mean to be naughty." + +"That's right," he answered, encouragingly. And then Rosy's mother +again held out her hand, and Beata took it timidly, and followed by +Rosy, whose mind was in a strange jumble, they went upstairs to the +room that was to be the little stranger's. + +It was as pretty a little room as any child could have wished +for--bright and neat and comfortable, with a pleasant look-out on the +lawn at the side of the house, while farther off, over the trees, the +village church, or rather its high spire, could be seen. For a moment +Beata forgot her new troubles. + +"Oh, how pretty!" she said, "Is this to be my room? I never had such a +nice one. But when they come home from India for always, papa and +mamma are going to get a pretty house, and choose all the +furniture--like here, you know, only not so pretty, I daresay, for a +house like this would cost such a great deal of money." + +She was chattering away to Rosy's mother quite in her old way, greatly +to Rosy's mother's pleasure, when she--Mrs. Vincent, opened a door +Beata had not before noticed. + +"This is Rosy's room," she said. "I thought it would be nice for you +to be near each other. And I know you are very tidy, Bee, so you will +set Rosy a good example--eh, Rosy?" + +She said it quite simply, and Beata would have taken it in the same +way half an hour before, but looking round the little girl caught an +expression on Rosy's face which brought back all her distress. It +seemed to say, "Oh, you're beginning to be praised already, I see," +but Rosy's mother had not noticed it, for Rosy had turned quickly +away. When, however, Mrs. Vincent, surprised at Beata's silence, +looked at her again, all the light had faded out of the little face, +and again she seemed on the point of tears. + +"How strangely changeable she is," thought Mrs. Vincent, "I am sure +she used not to be so; she was merry and pleased just as she seemed a +moment or two ago." + +"What is the matter, dear?" she said. "You look so distressed again. +Did it bring back your mother--what I said, I mean?" + +"I think--I suppose so," Beata began, but there she stopped. "'So," +she said bravely, "it wasn't that. But, please--I don't want to be +rude--but, please, would you not praise me--not for being tidy or +anything." + +How gladly at that moment would she have said, "I'm not tidy. Mamma +always says I'm not," had it been true. But it was not--she was a very +neat and methodical child, dainty and trim in everything she had to do +with, as Rosy's mother remembered. + +"What _shall_ I do?" she said to herself. "It seems as if only my +being naughty would make Rosy like me, and keep me from doing her +harm. What _can_ I do?" and a longing came over her to throw her +arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck, and tell her her troubles and ask her +to explain it all to her. But her faithfulness would not let her think +of such a thing. "That _would_ do Rosy harm," she remembered, "and +perhaps she meant to be kind when she spoke that way. It was kinder +than to have kept those feelings to me in her heart and never told me. +But I don't know what to do." + +For already she felt that Mrs. Vincent thought her queer and +changeable, _rude_ even, perhaps, though she only smiled at +Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she +said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite. + +"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised." + +Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and +telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon +be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and +she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. + +"Miss Rosy," she said, "will you please to go into the nursery and put +away your dolls' things before tea. They're all over the table. I'd +have done it in a minute, but you have your own ways and I was afraid +of doing it wrong." + +She spoke kindly and cheerfully. + +"What a nice nurse!" thought Beata, with a feeling of relief--a sort +of hope that Martha might help to make things easier for her somehow, +especially as there was something very kindly in the way the maid +began to help her to unfasten her jacket and lay aside her travelling +things. To her surprise, Rosy made no answer. + +"Miss Rosy, please," said Martha again, and then Rosy looked up +crossly. + +"'Miss Rosy, please,'" she said mockingly. "You're just putting on all +that politeness to show off. No, I won't please. You can put the dolls +away yourself, and, if you do them wrong, it's your own fault. You've +seen lots of times how I do them." + +"Miss Rosy!" said Martha, as if she wanted to beg Rosy to be good, and +her voice was still kind, though her face had got very red when Rosy +told her she was "showing off." + +Beata stood in shocked silence. She had had no idea that Rosy could +speak so, and, sad as it was, Martha did not seem surprised. + +"I wonder if she is often like that," thought little Bee, and in +concern for Rosy her own troubles began to be forgotten. + +They went into the nursery to tea. Martha had cleared away Rosy's +things and had done her best to lay them as the little girl liked. But +before sitting down to the table, Rosy would go to the drawer where +they were kept, and was in the middle of scolding at finding something +different from what she liked when Colin and Fixie came in to tea. + +"I say, Rosy," said Colin, "you might let us have one tea-time in +peace,--Bee's first evening." + +Rosy turned round upon him. + +"_I_'m not a pretender," she said. "_I_'m not going to sham +being good and all that, like Martha and you, because Bee has just +come." + +"I don't know what you've been saying to Martha," said Colin, "but I +can't see why you need begin at me about shamming before Bee. You've +not seen me for two minutes since she came. What's the matter, Fix? +Wait a minute and I'll help you," for Fixie was tugging away at his +chair, and could not manage to move it as he wanted. + +"I want to sit, aside Bee," he said. + +Rosy threw an angry look at him--he understood what she meant. + +"I'll sit, aside you again to-morrow, Losy," he hastened to say. But +it did no good. Rosy was now determined to find nothing right. There +came a little change in their thoughts, however, for the kitchen-maid +appeared at the door with a plate of nice cold ham and some of the +famous strawberry jam. + +"Cook thought the young lady would be hungry after her journey," she +said. + +"Yes, indeed," cried Colin, "the young lady's very hungry, and so are +the young gentlemen, and so is the other young lady--aren't you, +Rosy?" he said good-naturedly, turning to her. "He is really a very +kind boy," thought Beata. "Tell cook, with my best compliments, that +we are very much obliged to her, and she needn't expect to see any of +the ham or the strawberry jam again." + +It was later than the usual tea-hour, so all the children were hungry +and, thanks to this, the meal passed quietly. Beata said little, +though she could not help laughing at some of Colin's funny speeches. +But for the shock of Rosy's temper and the confusion in her mind that +Rosy's way of speaking had made, Bee would have been quite happy, as +happy at least, she would have said, "as I can be till mamma comes +home again," but Rosy seemed to throw a cloud over everybody. There +was never any knowing from one minute to another how she was going to +be. Only one thing became plainer to Bee. It was not only because +_she_ had come that Rosy was cross and unhappy. It was easy to +see that she was at all times very self-willed and queer-tempered, +and, though Bee was too good and kind to be glad of this, yet, as she +was a very sensible little girl, it made things look clearer to her. + +"I will not begin fancying it is because I am in her place, or +anything like that," she said to herself. "I will be as good as I can +be, and perhaps she will get to like me," and Rosy was puzzled and +perhaps, in her strange contradiction, a little vexed at the brighter +look that came over Bee's face, and the cheery way in which she spoke. +For at the first, when she saw how much Bee had taken to heart what +she said, though her _best_ self felt sorry for the little +stranger, she had liked the feeling that she would be a sort of master +over her, and that the fear of seeming to take _her_ place would +prevent Bee from making friends with the others more than she, Rosy, +chose to allow. + +Poor Rosy! She would have herself been shocked had she seen written +down in plain words all the feelings her jealous temper caused her. +But almost the worst of jealousy is that it hides itself in so many +dresses, and gives itself so many names, sometimes making itself seem +quite a right and proper feeling; often, very often making one think +oneself a poor, ill-treated martyr, when in reality, the martyrs are +the unfortunate people that have to live with the foolish person who +has allowed jealousy to become his master. + +Beata's uncle left that evening, but before he went away he had the +pleasure of seeing his little niece quite herself again. + +"That's right," he said, as he bade her good-bye, "I don't know what +came over you this afternoon." + +Beata did not say anything, but she just kissed her uncle, and +whispered, "Give my love to dear grandmother, and tell her I am going +to try to be very good." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +UPS AND DOWNS. + + + "Mary, Mary, quite contrary."--NURSERY RHYME. + +That night when Bee was in her little bed, though not yet asleep, for +the strangeness of everything, and all she had to think over of what +had happened in the day, had kept her awake longer than usual, she +heard some one softly open the door and look in. + +"Are you awake still, dear?" said a voice which Bee knew in a moment +was that of Rosy's mother. + +"Yes, oh yes. I'm quite awake. I'm not a bit sleepy," Beata answered. + +"But you must try to go to sleep soon," said Mrs. Vincent. "Rosy is +fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late +for little girls to be awake." + +"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the +first night--while everything is--different, you know--and new." + +"And a little strange and lonely, as it were--just at first. Don't be +afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so." + +"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking +at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with +you and Fixie again." + +"I'm very glad of that," said Mrs. Vincent. "And was it not then the +strange feeling that made you so unhappy this afternoon for a little?" + +Beata hesitated. + +"Tell me, dear," said Mrs. Vincent. "You know if I am to be a 'make-up +mother' for a while, you must talk to me as much as you _can_, as +if I were your own mother." + +She listened rather anxiously for Bee's answer, for two or three +little things--among them something Colin had said of the bad temper +Rosy had been in at tea-time--had made her afraid there had been some +reason she did not understand for Beata's tears. Bee lay still for a +minute or two. Then she said gently and rather shyly, + +"I am so sorry, but I don't know what's right to do. Isn't it +sometimes difficult to know?" + +"Yes, sometimes it is." Then Mrs. Vincent, in her turn, was silent for +a minute, and at last she said, + +"Would you very much rather I did not ask you why you cried?" + +"Oh yes," cried Bee, "much, much rather." + +"Very well then, but you will promise me that if the same thing makes +you cry again, you _will_ tell me?" + +"_Should_ I?" said Bee. "I thought--I thought it wasn't right to +tell tales," she added so innocently that Mrs. Vincent could not help +smiling to herself. + +"It is not right," she said. "But what I ask you to promise is not to +tell tales. It is to tell me what makes you unhappy, so that I may +explain it or put it right. I could not do my duty among you and my +other children unless I knew how things were. It is the _spirit/_ +that makes tell-tales--the telling over for the sake of getting others +blamed or punished--_that_ is what is wrong." + +"I see," said Beata slowly. "At least I think I see a little, and I'll +try to think about it. I'll promise to tell you if anything makes me +unhappy, _really_ unhappy, but I don't think it will now. I think +I understand better what things I needn't mind." + +"Very well, dear. Then good-night," and Rosy's mother kissed Bee very +kindly, though in her heart she felt sad. It was plain to her that +Rosy had made Bee unhappy, and as she passed through Rosy's room she +stopped a moment by the bed-side and looked at the sleeping child. +Nothing could be prettier than Rosy asleep--her lovely fair hair made +a sort of pale golden frame to her face, and her cheeks had a +beautiful pink flush. But while her mother was watching her, a frown +darkened her white forehead, and her lips parted sharply. + +"I won't have her put before me. I tell you I _won't_," she +called out angrily. Then again, a nicer look came over her face and +she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of. + +"I didn't mean"--"sorry"--"crying," she said, and her mother turned +away a little comforted. + +"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You _do_ know what is +right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy +temper?" + + * * * * * + +The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful +trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night +before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up +the window-blind to look out. And as soon as she was dressed she was +only too delighted to join Rosy and Colin for a run before breakfast. +Children are children all the world over--luckily for themselves and +luckily for other people too--and even children who are sometimes +ill-tempered and unkind are sometimes, too, bright and happy and +lovable. Rosy was after all only a child, and by no means +_always_ a disagreeable spoilt child. And this morning seeing Bee +so merry and happy, she forgot her foolish and unkind feelings about +her, and for the time they were all as contented and joyous as +children should be. + +"Where is Fixie?" asked Beata. "May he not come out a little before +breakfast too?" + +"Martha won't let him," said Rosy. "Nasty cross old thing. She says it +will make him ill, and I am sure it's much more likely to make him ill +keeping him poking in there when he wanted so much to come out with +us." + +"I don't see how you can call Martha cross," said Colin. "And +certainly she's never _cross_ to Fixie." + +"How do _you_ know?" said Rosy, sharply. "You don't see her half +as much as I do. And she can always pretend if she likes." + +Beata looked rather anxiously at Colin. He was on the point of +answering Rosy crossly in his turn, and again Bee felt that sort of +nervous fear of quarrels or disagreeables which it was impossible to +be long in Rosy's company without feeling. But Colin suddenly seemed +to change his mind. + +"Shall we run another race?" he said, without taking any notice of +Rosy's last speech. + +"Yes," said Bee, eagerly, "from here to the library window. But you +must give me a little start--I can't run half so fast as you and +Rosy." + +She said it quite simply, but it pleased Rosy all the same, and she +began considering how much of a start it was fair for Bee to have. + +When that important point was settled, off they set. Bee was the first +to arrive. + +"You must have given me too much of a start," she said, laughing. +"Look here, Colin and Rosy, there's the big cat on the window-seat. +Doesn't he look solemn?" + +"He looks very cross and nasty--he always does," said Rosy. Then, +safely sheltered behind the window, she began tapping on the pane. + +"Manchon, Manchon," she said, "you can't scratch me through the glass, +so I'll just tell you what I think of you for once. You're a cross, +mean, _pretending_ creature. You make everybody say you're so +pretty and so sweet when _really_ you're--" she stopped in a +fright--"Bee, Bee," she cried, "just look at his face. I believe he's +heard all I said." + +"Well, what if he did?" said Beata. "Cats don't understand what one +means." + +"_Manchon_ does," said Rosy. "Come away, Bee, do. Quick, quick. +We'd better go in to breakfast." + +The two little girls ran off, but Colin stayed behind at the library +window. + +"I've been talking to Manchon," he said when he came up to them. "He +told me to give you his compliments, Rosy, and to say he is very much +obliged to you for the pretty things you said to him, and the next +time he has the pleasure of seeing you he hopes to have the honour of +scratching you to show his gratitude." + +Rosy's face got red. + +"Colin, how _dare_ you laugh at me?" she called out in a fury. +She was frightened as well as angry, for she really had a strange fear +of the big cat. + +"I'm not laughing," Colin began again, looking quite serious. "I had +to give you Manchon's message." + + [Illustration: 'WHAT IS ZE MATTER WIF YOU, BEE?' HE SAID] + +Rosy looked at Bee. If there had been the least shadow of a smile on +Bee's face it would have made her still more angry. But Beata looked +grave, because she felt so. + +"Oh, I wish they wouldn't quarrel," she was thinking to herself. "It +does so spoil everything. I can't _think_ how Colin can tease +Rosy so." + +And sadly, feeling already tired, and not knowing what was best to do, +Beata followed the others to the nursery. _They_ did not seem to +care--Colin was already whistling, and though Rosy's face was still +black, no one paid any attention to it. + +But little Fixie ran to Bee and held up his fresh sweet face for a +kiss. + +"What is ze matter wif you, Bee?" he said. "You's c'ying. Colin, Losy, +Bee's c'ying," he exclaimed. + +"You're _not_, are you, Bee?" said Colin. + +"Are you, really?" said Rosy, coming close to her and looking into her +face. + +The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the +children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face. + +"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went +on, "what are you crying for?" + +Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck. + +"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, +oh, I do so wish--" and then she stopped. + +"What?" said Rosy. + +"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish +Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee. + +"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, _that_ wasn't anything--you +should hear us sometimes." + +"_Please_ don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear +Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and +not have anything like that." + +Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand. + +"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because +you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I +daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a +while here." + +"Oh, I _hope_ not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, +Rosy?" + +"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you +do a _little_. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be +better than other people, or _pretending_." + +"But I _don't_ want to do that," said Beata. "I want to _be_ +good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than +other people, and I'm _sure_ I don't want to pretend. I don't +ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? I don't know what +I can say to make you believe me. I can't see that you should think it +such a very funny thing for me to want to be good. Don't _you_ +want to be good?" + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I suppose I do. I do just now, just at this minute. +And just at this minute I believe what you say. But I daresay I won't +always. The first time Colin teases me I know I shall leave off +wanting to be good. I shall want nothing at all except just to give +him a good hard slap--really to hurt him, you know. I do want to +_hurt_ him when I am very angry--just for a little. And if you +were to say anything to me _then_ about being good, I'd very +likely not believe you a bit." + +Just then Martha's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast. + +"Be quiet, Martha," Rosy called back. "We'll come when we're ready. Do +leave us alone. Just when we're talking so nicely," she added, turning +to Bee. "What a bother she is" + +"_I_ think she's very kind," said Bee, "but I don't like to say +anything like that to you, for fear you should think I'm pretending or +'setting up,' or something like that." + +Rosy laughed. + +"I don't think that just now," she said. "Well, let's go into the +nursery, then," and, as they came in, she said to Martha with +wonderful amiability, "We aren't very hungry this morning, I don't +think, for we had each such a big hunch of bread and some milk before +we ran out." + +"That was quite right, Miss Rosy," said Martha, and by the sound of +her voice it was easy to see she was pleased. "It is never a good +thing to go out in the morning without eating something, even if it's +only a little bit." + +Breakfast passed most comfortably, and by good luck Fixie hadn't +forgotten his promise to sit "aside Losy." "It was her turn," he said, +and he seemed to think the honour a very great one. + +"Do you remember on the steamer, Fixie?" said Bee, "how we liked to +sit together, and how hot it was sometimes, and how we used to wish we +were in nice cool England?" + +"Oh ses," said Fixie, "oh it _were_ hot! And the poor young lady, +Bee, that was so ill?" + +"Oh, do you remember her, Fixie? What a good memory you have!" + +Fixie got rather red. + +"I'm not sure that I 'membered her all of myself," he said, "but mamma +telled me about her one day. Her's quite welldened now." + +Bee smiled a little at Fixie's funny way of speaking, but she thought +to herself it was very nice for him to be such an honest little boy. + +"How do you know she's got well?" said Rosy, rather sharply. + +"Mamma telled me," said Fixie. + +"Yes," said Colin, "it's quite true. And the young lady's father's +going to come to see us some day. I don't remember his name, do you, +Bee?" + +"Not quite," said Bee, "yes, I think it was something like +_furniture_." + +"Furniture," repeated Colin, "it couldn't be that. Was it 'Ferguson'?" + +"No," said Bee, "it wasn't that." + +"Well, never mind," said Colin. "It was something like it. We'll ask +mamma. He is going to come to see us soon. I'm sure of that." + +Later in the day Colin remembered about it, and asked his mother about +it. + +"What was the name of the gentleman that you said was coming to see us +soon, mamma?" he said--"the gentleman whose daughter was so ill in the +ship coming home from India." + +"Mr. Furnivale," replied his mother. "You must remember him and his +daughter, Bee. She is much better now. They have been all these months +in Italy, and they are going to stay there through next winter, but +Mr. Furnivale is in England on business and is coming to see us very +soon. He is a very kind man, and always asks for Fixie and Bee when he +writes." + +"That is very kind of him," said Bee, gratefully. + +But a dark look came over Rosy's face. + +"It's just as if _she_ was mamma's little girl, and not me," she +said to herself. "I hate people mamma knew when Bee was with her and I +wasn't." + +"Mr. Furnivale doesn't know you are with us," Mrs. Vincent went on; +"he will be quite pleased to see you. He says Cecilia has never +forgotten you; Cecilia is his daughter, you know." + +"Yes, I remember _her_ name," said Bee. "I wish she could come to +see us too. She was so pretty, wasn't she, Aunt--Lillias?" she added, +stopping a little and smiling. Lillias was Mrs. Vincent's name, and it +had been fixed that Beata should call her "aunt," for to say "Mrs. +Vincent" sounded rather stiff. "You would think her pretty, Rosy," she +went on again, out of a wish to make Rosy join in what they were +talking of. + +"No," said Rosy, with a sort of burst, "I shouldn't. I don't know +anything about what you're talking of, and I don't want to hear about +it," and she turned away with a very cross and angry face. + +Bee was going to run after her, but Mrs. Vincent stopped her. + +"No," she said. "When she is so very foolish, it is best to leave her +alone." + +But though she said it as if she did not think Rosy's tempers of very +much consequence, Beata saw the sad disappointed look on her face. + +"Oh," thought the little girl, "how I _do_ wish I could do +anything to keep Rosy from vexing her mother." + +It was near bed-time when they had been talking about Mr. Furnivale +and his daughter, and soon after the children all said good-night. +Rather to Bee's surprise, Rosy, who had hidden herself in the window +with a book, came out when she was called and said good-night quite +pleasantly. + +"I wonder she doesn't feel ashamed," thought Bee, "I'm sure I never +spoke like that to my mamma, but if ever I had, I couldn't have said +good-night without saying I was sorry." + +And it was with a slight feeling of self-approval that Beata went up +to bed. When she was undressed she went into the nursery for a moment +to ask Martha to brush her hair. Fixie was not yet asleep, and the +nurse looked troubled. + +"Is Fixie ill?" said Bee. + +"No, I hope not," said Martha, "but he's troubled. Miss Rosy's been in +to say good-night to him, and she's set him off his sleep, I'm sure." + +"I'm so unhappy, Bee," whispered Fixie, when Beata stooped over him to +say good-night. "Losy's been 'peaking to me, and she says nobody loves +her, not _nobody_. She's so unhappy, Bee." + +A little feeling of pain went through Bee. Perhaps Rosy _was_ +really unhappy and sorry for what she had said, though she had not +told any one so. And the thought of it kept Bee from going to sleep as +quickly as usual. "Rosy is so puzzling," she thought. "It is so +difficult to understand her." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +ROSY THINKS THINGS OVER. + + + "Whenever you find your heart despair + Of doing some goodly thing, + Con over this strain, try bravely again, + And remember the spider and king." +--TRY AGAIN. + +She did go to sleep at last, and she slept for a while very soundly. +But suddenly she awoke, awoke quite completely, and with the feeling +that something had awakened her, though what she did not know. She sat +up in bed and looked about her, if you can call staring out into the +dark where you can see nothing "looking about you." It seemed to be a +very dark night; there was no chink of moonlight coming in at the +window, and everything was perfectly still. Beata could not help +wondering what had awakened her, and she was settling herself to sleep +again when a little sound caught her ears. It was a kind of low, +choking cry, as if some one was crying bitterly and trying to stuff +their handkerchief into their mouth, or in some way prevent the sound +being heard. Beata felt at first a very little frightened, and then, +as she became quite sure that it was somebody crying, very sorry and +uneasy. What could be the matter? Was it Fixie? No, the sounds did not +come from the nursery side. Beata sat up in bed to hear more clearly, +and then amidst the crying she distinguished her own name. + +"Bee," said the sobbing voice, "Bee, I wish you'd come to speak to me. +Are you asleep, Bee?" + +In a moment Beata was out of bed, for there was no doubt now whose +voice it was. It was Rosy's. Bee was not a timid child, but the room +was very dark, and it took a little courage to feel her way among the +chairs and tables till at last she found the door, which she opened +and softly went into Rosy's room. For a moment she did not speak, for +a new idea struck her,--could Rosy be crying and talking in her sleep? +It was so very unlike her to cry or ask any one to go to her. There +was no sound as Beata opened the door; she could almost have believed +it had all been her fancy, and for a moment she felt inclined to go +back to her own bed and say nothing. But a very slight sound, a sort +of little sobbing breath that came from Rosy's bed, made her change +her mind. + +"Rosy," she said, softly, "are you awake? Were you speaking to me?" + +She heard a rustle. It was Rosy sitting up in bed. + +"Yes," she said, "I am awake. I've been awake all night. It's dedful +to be awake all night, Bee. I've been calling and calling you. I'm so +unhappy." + +"Unhappy?" said Bee, in a kind voice, going nearer the bed. "What are +you so unhappy about, Rosy?" + +"I'll tell you," said Rosy, "but won't you get into my bed a little, +Bee? There is room, if we scrudge ourselves up. One night Fixie slept +with me, and you're not so very much bigger." + +"I'll get in for a little," said Beata, "just while you tell me what's +the matter, and why you are so unhappy." + +She was quite surprised at Rosy's way of speaking. She seemed so much +gentler and softer, that Bee could not understand it. + +"I'll tell you why I'm so unhappy," said Rosy. "I can't be good, Bee. +I never have cared to be good. It's such a lot of trouble, and lots of +peoples that think they're very good, and that other peoples make a +fuss about, are very pretending. I've noticed that often. But when we +had been talking yesterday morning all of a sudden I thought it would +be nice to be good--not pretending, but _real_ good--never cross, +and all that. And so I fixed I would be quite good, and I thought how +pleased you'd be when I never quarrelled with Colin, or was cross to +Martha, or anything like that. And it was all right for a while; but +then when mamma began talking about Mr. Furniture, and how nice he +was, and his daughter, and you knew all about them and I didn't, it +_all went away_. I told you it would--all the wanting to be +good--and I was as angry as angry. And then I said that, you remember, +and then everybody thought I was just the same, and it was all no +use." + +"Poor Rosy," said Bee. "No, I don't think it was no use." + +"Oh yes," persisted Rosy, "it was all no use. But nobody knew, and I +didn't mean anybody to know. Mamma and Colin and nobody could see I +was sorry when I said good-night--_could_ they?" she said, with a +tone of satisfaction. "No, I didn't mean anybody to know, only after I +was in bed it came back to me, and I was so vexed and so unhappy. I +thought everybody would have been _so_ surprised at finding I +could be just as good as anybody if I liked. But I don't like; so just +remember, Bee, to-morrow morning I'm not going to try a bit, and it's +no use saying any more about it. It's just the way I'm made." + +"But you do care, Rosy," said Bee, "I know you care. If you didn't you +wouldn't have been thinking about it, and been sorry after you were in +bed." + +"Yes, I _did_ care," said Rosy, with again a little sob. "I had +been thinking it would be very nice, But I'm not going to care--that's +just the thing, Bee--that's what I wanted to tell you--I'm not going +to go on caring." + +"Don't you always say your prayers, Rosy?" asked Bee, rather solemnly. + +"Yes, _of course_ I do. But I don't think they're much good. I've +been just as naughty some days when I'd said them _beautifully_, +as some days when I'd been in a hurry." + +Beata felt puzzled. + +"I can't explain about it properly," she said. "But that isn't the +way, I don't think. Mother told me if I thought just saying my prayers +would make me good, it was like thinking they were a kind of magic, +and that isn't what we should think them." + +"What good are they then?" said Rosy. + +"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee. +"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives +us a sort of feeling that _He_, you know, Rosy, that God is +smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's _always_ +ready to help us." + +"_Is_ He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser +about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do +make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good." + +"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not +good and you don't care. But I think you _do_ care, only," with a +sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot." + +"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly. + +"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that +you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But +please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. _Do_ go on. It will get +easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the +piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier +for the next time." + +"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone. +"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning +what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again +to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to +be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the +naughty ones you could keep out of my way." + +"It wouldn't do at all," said Bee, decidedly. "It would be like going +up two steps and then tumbling back two steps. No, it would be worse, +it would be like going up two and tumbling back three, for every +naughty day would make it still harder to begin again on the good +day." + +"Well, I won't do that way, then," said Rosy, with wonderful +gentleness. "I'll either _go on_ trying to climb up the steps-- +how funnily you say things, Bee!--or I'll not try at all. I'll tell you +to-morrow morning. But remember you're not to tell anybody. +If I fix to be good I want everybody to be surprised." + +"But you won't get good all of a sudden, Rosy," said Bee, feeling +afraid that Rosy would again lose heart at the first break-down. + +"Well, I daresay I won't," returned Rosy. "But don't you see if nobody +but you knows it won't so much matter. But if I was to tell everybody +then it would all seem pretending, and there's nothing so horrid as +pretending." + +There was some sense in Rosy's ideas, and Bee did not go against them. +She went back to her own bed with a curious feeling of respect for +Rosy and a warm feeling of affection also. + +"And it was very horrid of me to be thinking of her that way +to-night," said honest Bee to herself. "I'll never think of her that +way again. Poor Rosy, she has had no mother all these years that I've +had my mother doing nothing but trying to make me good. But I am so +glad Rosy is getting to like me." + +For Rosy had kissed her warmly as they bade each other good-night for +the second time. + +"It was very nice of Bee to get out of bed in the dark to come to me," +she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is +pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's +friendship for Beata--_trust_. + +The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for +they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling +and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the +beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice +calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of +their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able +to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face +did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came +into the nursery. + +"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't +settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it." + +Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once +or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as +necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented +herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and +sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went +further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the +back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the +little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and +really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a +little scream, it is true--who could have helped it?--and then rushed +out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that +were running down her cheeks. + +"Colin," said Bee, and, for a moment or two, it almost seemed to the +boy as if Rosy's temper had passed into the quiet little girl, "I am +ashamed of you. You naughty, _cruel_ boy, just when poor Rosy +was----" + +She stopped suddenly--"just when poor Rosy was beginning to try to be +good," she was going to have said, forgetting her promise to tell no +one of Rosy's plans,--"just when we were all quiet and comfortable," +she said instead. + +Colin looked ashamed. + +"I won't do it any more," he said, "I won't really. Besides there's no +fun in only making her cry. It was only fun when it put her into a +rage." + +"Nice _fun_," said Bee, with scorn. + +"Well, you know what I mean. I daresay it wasn't right, but I never +meant really to hurt her. And all the fellows at school tease like +that--one can't help getting into the way of it." + +"I never heard such a foolish way of talking," answered Bee, who was +for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for +doing wrong things--that other people do them.'" + +"It's bad example--the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely +that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have +answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, +which put her on her guard. + +"You are trying to tease _me_ now, Colin," she said. "Well, I +don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone--any way for a +few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, +won't you?" + +She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her +honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease +me"--she went on--"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody." + +Colin could not help laughing. + +"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far +too good-natured. Well, I will promise you--I'll promise you more than +you ask--listen, what a grand promise--I'll promise you not to tease +Rosy for three whole months--now, what do you say to that, ma'am?" + +Bee's eyes glistened. + +"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. +Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to +tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me +about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it +wouldn't do half as well." + +"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went +on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I +promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to +school for three months." + +"_Are_ you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. +I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I +first came, you know." + +"Yes; and your lessons--yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a +little too--they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having +holidays just now." + +"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata. + +"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but +it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short." + +"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having +still another stranger to make friends with. + +"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy--she's afraid of her +tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy +is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee." + +"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In +three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said +again, smiling. + +"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee +thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, +for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good +plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, +and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad. + +Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the +other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked +at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about +_me_?" her look seemed to say. + +"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard +about her before." + +"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully. + +"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata. + +"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for +her--much. She's rather pretending." + +"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said +Bee. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that." + +"But if they _are_ pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy. + +Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue. + +"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's +way, for she thinks it of everybody." + +"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not _everybody_." + +"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some +people good who aren't good than think some people who _are_ good +_not_ good--wouldn't you, Bee?" + +Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin +meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always +very quick at doing so. + +"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there _are_ lots of +very kind and good people in the world--really kind and good, not +pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling +kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite +knowing how sometimes." + +Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in +saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I +think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want +_anybody_ to know--you remember, don't you?" + +"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody +will find out for themselves, without _my_ telling." + +And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they +fell asleep that night. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + "Multiplication's my vexation, + Division is as bad." + +Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. +The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he +had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the +little girls' lessons began. + +"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning. + +"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said. + +It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not +manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand +why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody +that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without +really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of +being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any +way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to +her. + +"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun +again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic." + +"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you +are grown-up if you cannot count--everybody needs to know how to +count, or else they can't manage their money." + +"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody +must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink." + +Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, +pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did +Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said +nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident. + +Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. +But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy +threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again. + +"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums--you'll +see." + +"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off +giving us sums for always." + +"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. _I_ won't do them." + +"I will," said Bee. + +"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?" + +"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if +she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning +arithmetic any more." + +"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very +fierce. + +"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me +to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell +your mother." + +"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. +"That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, +when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those +_horrible_ sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and +what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie +just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her +tempers off before her little brother. + +Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that +Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day +passed quietly. But the next morning it was the same thing. When they +came to the time at which they usually had their arithmetic, Rosy +looked up at Miss Pink with a determined air. + +"No arithmetic, Miss Pink, you know," she said. + +Miss Pink gave a sort of little laugh. + +"My dear Rosy," she said, "you are so very comical! Come now, get your +slate--see there is dear Beata all ready with hers. You shall not have +very hard sums to-day, I promise you." + +"Miss Pink," said Rosy, "I won't do _any_ sums. I told you so +yesterday, and you know I mean what I say. If Bee chooses to tell +tales, she may, but _I_ won't do any sums." + +Miss Pink looked from one to the other. + +"There is no use my doing sums without Rosy," said Bee. "We are at the +same place and it would put everything wrong." + +"Yes," said Miss Pink. "I cannot give you separate lessons. It would +put everything wrong. But I'm sure you're only joking, Rosy dear. We +won't say anything about the sums to-day, and then to-morrow we'll go +on regularly again, and dear Beata will see it will all be right." + +"No," said Rosy, "it won't be all right if you try to make me do any +sums to-morrow or any day." + +Bee said nothing. She did not know what to say. She could hardly +believe Rosy was the same little girl as the Rosy whom she had heard +crying in the night, who had made her so happy by talking about trying +to be good. And how many days the silly dispute might have gone on, +there is no telling, had it not happened that the very next morning, +just as they came to the time for the arithmetic lesson, the door +opened and Mrs. Vincent came in. + +"Good morning, Miss Pinkerton," she said. "I've come to see how you +are all getting on,"--for Miss Pinkerton did not live in the house, +she only came every morning at nine o'clock--"you don't find your new +pupil _very_ troublesome, I hope?" she went on, with a smile at +Beata. + +"Oh dear, no! oh, certainly not," said Miss Pinkerton nervously; "oh +dear, no--Miss Beata is very good indeed. Everything's very nice--oh +we're very happy, thank you--dear Rosy and dear Beata and I." + +"I am very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Vincent, but she spoke rather +gravely, for on coming into the room it had not looked to her as if +everything _was_ "very nice." Beata looked grave and troubled, +Miss Pinkerton flurried, and there was a black cloud on Rosy's face +that her mother knew only too well. "What lessons are you at now?" she +went on. + +"Oh, ah!" began Miss Pinkerton, fussing among some of the books that +lay on the table. "We've just finished a chapter of our English +history, and--and--I was thinking of giving the dear children a +dictation." + +"It's not the time for dictation," said Rosy. And then to Bee's +surprise she burst out, "Miss Pink, I wonder how you can tell such +stories! Everything is not quite nice, mamma, for I've just been +telling Miss Pink I won't do any sums, and it's just the time for +sums. I wouldn't do them yesterday, and I won't do them to-day, or any +day, because I hate them." + +"You 'won't' and you 'wouldn't,' Rosy," said her mother, so sternly +and coldly that Bee trembled for her, though Rosy gave no signs of +trembling for herself. "Is that a way in which I can allow you to +speak? You must apologise to Miss Pinkerton, and tell her you will be +ready to do _any_ lessons she gives you, or you must go upstairs +to your own room." + +"I'll go upstairs to my own room then," said Rosy at once. "I'd +'pologise to you, mamma, if you like, but I won't to Miss Pink, +because she doesn't say what's true." + +"Rosy, be silent," said her mother again. And then, turning to Miss +Pinkerton, she added in a very serious tone, "Miss Pinkerton, I do not +wish to appear to find fault with you, but I must say that you should +have told me of all this before. It is most mistaken kindness to Rosy +to hide her disobedience and rudeness, and it makes things much more +difficult for me. I am _particularly_ sorry to have to punish +Rosy to-day, for I have just heard that a friend is coming to see us +who would have liked to find all the children good and happy." + +Rosy's face grew gloomier and gloomier. Beata was on the point of +breaking in with a request that Rosy might be forgiven, but something +in Mrs. Vincent's look stopped her. Miss Pinkerton grew very red and +looked very unhappy--almost as if she was going to cry. + +"I'm--I'm very sorry--very distressed. But I thought dear Rosy was +only joking, and that it would be all right in a day or two. I'm sure, +dear Rosy, you'll tell your mamma that you did not mean what you said, +and that you'll do your best to do your sums nicely--now won't you, +dear?" + +"No," said Rosy, in a hard, cold tone, "I won't. And you might know by +this time, Miss Pink, that I always mean what I say. I'm not like +you." + +After this there was nothing for it but to send Rosy up to her own +room. Mrs. Vincent told Miss Pinkerton to finish the morning lessons +with Beata, and then left the schoolroom. + +Bee was very unhappy, and Miss Pink by this time was in tears. + +"She's so naughty--so completely spoilt;" she said. "I really don't +think I can go on teaching her. She's not like you, dear Beata. How +happily and peacefully we could go on doing our lessons--you and +I--without that self-willed Rosy." + +Bee looked very grave. + +"Miss Pink," she said, "I don't like you to speak like that at all. +You don't say to Rosy to her face that you think her so naughty, and +so I don't think you should say it to me. I think it would be better +if you said to Rosy herself what you think." + +"I couldn't," said Miss Pink. "There would be no staying with her if I +didn't give in to her. And I don't want to lose this engagement, for +it's so near my home, and my mother is so often ill. And Mr. and Mrs. +Vincent have been very kind--very kind indeed." + +"I think Rosy would like you better if you told her right out what you +think," said Bee, who couldn't help being sorry for Miss Pinkerton +when she spoke of her mother being ill. And Miss Pink was really +kind-hearted, only she did not distinguish between weak indulgence and +real sensible kindness. + +When lessons were over Mrs. Vincent called Bee to come and speak to +her. + +"It is Mr. Furnivale who is coming to see us to-day," she said. "It is +for that I am so particularly sorry for Rosy to be again in disgrace. +And she has been so much gentler and more obedient lately, I am really +_very_ disappointed, and I cannot help saying so to you, Bee, +though I don't want you to be troubled about Rosy." + +"I do think Rosy wants--" began Bee, and then she stopped, remembering +her promise. "Don't you think she will be sorry now?" she said. "Might +I go and ask her?" + +"No, dear, I think you had better not," said Mrs. Vincent. "I will see +her myself in a little while. Yes, I believe she is sorry, but she +won't let herself say so." + +Beata felt sad and dull without Rosy; for the last few days had really +passed happily. And Rosy shut up in her own room was thinking with a +sort of bitter vexation rather than sorrow of how quickly her +resolutions had all come to nothing. + +"It's not my fault," she kept saying to herself, "it's all Miss +Pink's. She knew I hated sums--that horrid kind of long rows worst of +all--and she just gave me them on purpose; and then when I said I +wouldn't do them, she went on coaxing and talking nonsense--that way +that just _makes_ me naughtier. I'd rather do sums all day than +have her talk like that--and then to go and tell stories to mamma--I +hate her, nasty, pretending thing. It's all her fault; and then she'll +be going on praising Bee, and making everybody think how good Bee is +and how naughty I am. I wish Bee hadn't come. I didn't mind it so much +before. I wonder if _she_ told mamma as she said she would, and +if that was why mamma came in to the schoolroom this morning. I +_wonder_ if Bee could be so mean;" and in this new idea Rosy +almost forgot her other troubles. "If Bee did do it I shall never +forgive her--never," she went on to herself; "I wouldn't have minded +her doing it right out, as she said she would, but to go and tell +mamma that sneaky way, and get her to come into the room just at that +minute, no, I'll never--" + +A knock at the door interrupted her, and then before she had time to +answer, she heard her mother's voice outside. "I'll take it in myself, +thank you, Martha," she was saying, and in a moment Mrs. Vincent came +in, carrying the glass of milk and dry biscuit which the children +always had at twelve, as they did not have dinner till two o'clock +with their father's and mother's luncheon. + +"Here is your milk, Rosy," said her mother, gravely, as she put it +down on the table. "Have you anything to say to me?" + +Rosy looked at her mother. + +"Mamma," she said, quickly, "will you tell me one thing? Was it Bee +that made you come into the schoolroom just at sums time? Was it +because of her telling you what I had said that you came?" + +Mrs. Vincent in her turn looked at Rosy. Many mothers would have +refused to answer--would have said it was not Rosy's place to begin +asking questions instead of begging to be forgiven for their naughty +conduct; but Rosy's mother was different from many. She knew that Rosy +was a strange character to deal with; she hoped and believed that in +her real true heart her little girl _did_ feel how wrong she was; +and she wished, oh, how earnestly, to _help_ the little plant of +goodness to grow, not to crush it down by too much sternness. And in +Rosy's face just now she read a mixture of feelings. + +"No, Rosy," she answered very gently, but so that Rosy never for one +instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not +said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then +quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy--you +seem to trust no one--not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee." + +Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad +to find Bee what she had always been--not to be obliged to keep to her +terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her +_worst_ self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that +her suspicions had no ground. + +"Bee _said_ she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she +said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you." + +"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother. +"You _know_ she would never have tried to get you into disgrace +in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must +tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I +will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of +ours--of your father's and mine----" + +"Mr. Furniture!" exclaimed Rosy, forgetting her tempers in the +excitement of the news. + +"Yes, Mr. Furnivale," said her mother, and she could not keep back a +little smile; "he is coming this afternoon. It would be punishing not +only you, but your father and Bee and myself--all of us indeed--if we +had to tell our old friend the moment he arrived that our Rosy was in +disgrace. So you may go now and ask Martha to dress you neatly. Mr. +Furnivale _may_ be here by luncheon-time, and no more will be +said about this unhappy morning. But Rosy, listen--I trust to your +honour to try to behave so as to please me. I will say no more about +your arithmetic lessons; will you act so as to show me I have not been +foolish in forgiving you?" + +The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she +was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her +mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were +not very far off, + +"Mamma, I _do_ thank you. I will try. I will do my sums as much +as you like to-morrow, only--" + +"Only what, Rosy?" + +"Can you tell Miss Pink that it is to please _you_ I want to do +them, not to please _her_, mamma--she isn't like you. I don't +believe what she says." + +"I will tell Miss Pink that you want to please me certainly, but you +must see, Rosy, that obeying her, doing the lessons she gives you by +my wish, _is_ pleasing me," said her mother, though at the same +time in her own mind she determined to have a little talk with Miss +Pink privately. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "I know that." + +She spoke gently, and her mother felt happier about her little girl +than for long. + +Mr. Furnivale did arrive in time for luncheon. He had just come when +the little girls and Fixie went down to the drawing-room at the sound +of the first gong. He came forward to meet the children with kindly +interest in his face. + +"Well, Fixie, my boy, and how are you?" he said, lifting the fragile +little figure in his arms. "Why, I think you are a little bit fatter +and a little bit rosier than this time last year. And this is your +sister that I _don't_ know," he went on, turning to Rosy, +"and--why, bless my soul! here's another old friend--my busy Bee. I +had no idea Mrs. Warwick had left her with you," he exclaimed to Mrs. +Vincent. + +Mrs. Warwick was Beata's mother. I don't think I have before told you +Bee's last name. + +"I was just going to tell you about it, when the children came in," +said Rosy's mother. "I knew Cecilia would be so glad to know Bee was +with us, and not at school, when her poor grandmother grew too ill to +have her." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Furnivale, "Cecy will be glad to hear it. She +had no idea of it. And so when you all come to pay us that famous +visit we have been talking about, Bee must come too--eh, Bee?" + +Bee's eyes sparkled. She liked kind, old Mr. Furnivale, and she had +been very fond of his pretty daughter. + +"Is Cecy much better?" she asked, in her gentle little voice. + +"_Much_ better. We're hoping to come back to settle in England +before long, and have a nice house like yours, and then you are all to +come to see us," said Mr. Furnivale. + +They went on talking for a few minutes about these pleasant plans, and +in the interest of hearing about Cecilia Furnivale, and hearing all +her messages, Rosy, who had never seen her, and who was quite a +stranger to her father too, was naturally left a little in the +background. It was quite enough to put her out again. + +"I might just as well have been left upstairs in my own room," she +said to herself. "Nobody notices me--nobody cares whether I am here or +not. _I_ won't go to stay with that ugly old man and his stupid +daughter, just to be always put behind Bee." + +And when Beata, with a slight feeling that Rosy might be feeling +herself neglected, and full of pleasure, too, at Mrs. Vincent's having +forgiven her, slipped behind the others and took Rosy's hand in hers, +saying brightly, "_Won't_ it be nice to go and stay with them, +Rosy?" Rosy pulled away her hand roughly, and, looking very cross, +went back to her old cry. + +"I wish you'd leave me alone, Bee. I hate that sort of pretending. You +know quite well nobody would care whether _I_ went or not." + +And poor Bee drew back quite distressed, and puzzled again by Rosy's +changeableness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MR. FURNITURE'S PRESENT. + + + "And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than these." +--SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. + +"Your little girl is very pretty, unusually pretty," Mr. Furnivale was +saying to Rosy's mother, as he sat beside her on the sofa during the +few minutes they were waiting for luncheon, "and she looks so strong +and well." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincent, "she is very strong. I am glad you think her +pretty," she went on. "It is always difficult to judge of one's own +children, I think, or indeed of any face you see constantly. I thought +Rosy very pretty, I must confess, when I first saw her again after our +three years' separation, but now I don't think I could judge." + +Mrs. Vincent gave a little sigh as she spoke, which made Mr. Furnivale +wonder what she was troubled about. The truth was that she was +thinking to herself how little she would care whether Rosy was pretty +or not, if only she could feel more happy about her really trying to +be a good little girl. + +"Your little girl was with Miss Vincent while you were away, was she +not?" said Mr. Furnivale. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother, "her aunt is very fond of her. She gave +herself immense trouble for Rosy's sake." + +"By-the-bye, she is coming to see you soon, is she not?" said Mr. +Furnivale. "She is, as of course you know, an old friend of ours, and +she writes often to ask how Cecy is. And in her last letter she said +she hoped to come to see you soon." + +"I have not heard anything decided about it," replied Mrs. Vincent. "I +had begun to think she would not come this year--she was speaking of +going to some seaside place." + +"Ah, but I rather think she has changed her mind, then," said Mr. +Furnivale, and then he went on to talk of something else to him of +more importance. But poor Mrs. Vincent was really troubled. + +"I should not mind Edith herself coming," she said to herself. "She is +_really_ good and kind, and I think I could make her understand +how cruel it is to spoil Rosy. But it is the maid--that Nelson--I +cannot like or trust her, and I believe she did Rosy more harm than +all her aunt's over-indulgence. And Edith is so fond of her; I cannot +say anything against her," for Miss Vincent was an invalid, and very +dependent on this maid. + +Little Beata noticed that during luncheon Rosy's mother looked +troubled, and it made her feel sorry. Rosy perhaps would have noticed +it too, had she not been so very much taken up with her own fancied +troubles. She was running full-speed into one of her cross jealous +moods, and everything that was said or done, she took the wrong way. +Her father helped Bee before her--that, she could not but allow was +right, as Bee was a guest--but now it seemed to her that he chose the +nicest bits for Bee, with a care he never showed in helping her. Rosy +was not the least greedy--she would have been ready and pleased to +give away anything, _so long_ as she got the credit of it, and +was praised and thanked, but to be treated second-best in the way in +which she chose to imagine she was being treated--_that_, she +could not and would not stand. She sat through luncheon with a black +look on her pretty face; so that Mr. Furnivale, whom she was beside, +found her much less pleasant to talk to than Bee opposite, though Bee +herself was less bright and merry than usual. + +Mrs. Vincent felt glad that no more was said about Aunt Edith's +coming. She felt that she did not wish Rosy to hear of it, and yet she +did not like to ask Mr. Furnivale not to mention it, as it seemed +ungrateful to think or speak of a visit from Miss Vincent except with +pleasure. After luncheon, when they were again in the drawing-room, +Mr. Furnivale came up to her with a small parcel in his hand. + +"I am so sorry," he began, with a little hesitation, "I am so sorry +that I did not know Beata Warwick was with you. Cecy had no idea of +it, and she begged me to give _your_ little girl this present we +bought for her in Venice, and now I don't half like giving it to the +one little woman when I have nothing for the other." + +He opened the parcel as he spoke; it contained a quaint-looking little +box, which in its turn, when opened, showed a necklace of glass beads +of every imaginable colour. They were not very large--each bead +perhaps about the size of a pea--of a large pea, that is to say. And +some of them were long, not thicker, but twice as long as the others. +I can scarcely tell you how pretty they were. Every one was different, +and they were beautifully arranged so that the colours came together +in the prettiest possible way. One was pale blue with little tiny +flowers, pink or rose-coloured raised upon it; one was white with a +sort of rainbow glistening of every colour through it; two or three +were black, but with a different tracery, gold or red or bright green, +on each; and some were a kind of mixture of colours and patterns which +seemed to change as you looked at them, so that you could _fancy_ +you saw flowers, or figures, or tiny landscapes even, which again +disappeared--and no two the same. + +"Oh how lovely," exclaimed Rosy's mother, "how very, very pretty." + +"Yes," said Mr. Furnivale, "they _are_ pretty. And they are now +rare. These are really old, and the imitation ones, which they make in +plenty, are not half so curious. Cecy thought they would take a +child's fancy." + +"More than a _child's_," said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. "I think +they are lovely--and what a pretty ornament they will be--fancy them +on a white dress!" + +"I am only sorry I have not two of them," said Mr. Furnivale, "or at +least _something_ else for the other little girl. You would not +wish me, I suppose, to give the necklace to Beata instead of to Rosy?" +he added. + +Now Mrs. Vincent's own feeling was almost that she _would_ better +like it to be given to Beata. She was very unselfish, and her natural +thought was that in anything of the kind, Bee, the little stranger, +the child in her care, whose mother was so far away, should come +first. But there was more to think of than this feeling of hers-- + +"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to +let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that +terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo +the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply +and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw +the children still more together." + +So she looked up at Mr. Furnivale with her pretty honest eyes--Rosy's +eyes were honest too--and like her mother's when she was sweet and +good--and said frankly, + +"You won't think me selfish I am sure--I think you will believe that I +do it from good motives--when I ask you not to change, but still to +give it to Rosy. I will take care that little Bee does not suffer for +it in the end." + +"And I too," said Mr. Furnivale, "If I _can_ find another +necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send +it--indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for +one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did +buy it for your own little girl." + +"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr. +Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the +lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy. + +"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked +towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and +Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were +playing, I should have said Beata and Felix--not Rosy). "I daresay she +will be going to scold me, now luncheon's over. I wish that ugly old +Mr. Furniture would go away," for all the cross, angry, jealous +thoughts had come back to poor Rosy since she had taken it into her +head again about Bee being put before her, and all her good wishes and +plans, which had grown stronger through her mother's gentleness, had +again flown away, like a flock of frightened white doves, looking back +at her with sad eyes as they flew. + +Rosy's good angel, however, was very patient with her that day. Again +she was to be tried with _kindness_ instead of harshness; surely +this time it would succeed. + +"Rosy dear," said her mother, quite brightly, for she had not noticed +Rosy's cross looks at dinner, and she felt a natural pleasure in the +thought of her child's pleasure, "Mr. Furnivale--or perhaps I should +say _Miss_ Furnivale--whom we all speak of as "Cecy," you know, +has sent you such a pretty present. See, dear--you have never, I +think, had anything so pretty," and she held up the lovely beads +before Rosy's dazzled eyes. + +"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed the little girl, her whole face lighting +up, "O mamma, how very pretty! And they are for _me_. Oh, how +very kind of Miss Furni--of Miss Cecy," she went on, turning to the +old gentleman, "Will you please thank her for me _very_ much?" + +No one could look prettier or sweeter than Rosy at this moment, and +Mr. Furnivale began to think he had been mistaken in thinking the +little Vincent girl a much less lovable child than his old friend +Beata Warwick. + +"How very, very pretty," she repeated, touching the beads softly with +her little fingers. And then with a sudden change she turned to her +mother. + +"Is there a necklace for Bee, too?" she said. + +Mrs. Vincent's first feeling was of pleasure that Rosy should think of +her little friend, but there was in the child's face a look that made +her not sure that the question _was_ quite out of kindness to +Bee, and the mother's voice was a little grave and sad, as she +answered. + +"No, Rosy. There is not one for Bee. Mr. Furnivale brought it for you +only." + +Then Rosy's face was a curious study. There was a sort of pleasure in +it--and this, I must truly say, was not pleasure that Bee had +_not_ a present also, for Rosy was not greedy or even selfish in +the common way, but it was pleasure at being put first, and joined to +this pleasure was a nice honest sorrow that Bee was left out. Now that +Rosy was satisfied that she herself was properly treated she found +time to think of Bee. And though the necklace had been six times as +pretty, though it had been all pearls or diamonds, it would not have +given Mrs. Vincent half the pleasure that this look of real unselfish +sorrow in Rosy's face sent through her heart. More still, when the +little girl, bending to her mother, whispered softly, + +"Mamma, would it be right of me to give it to Bee? I wouldn't mind +very much." + +"No, darling, no; but I am _very_ glad you thought of it. We will +do something to make up for it to Bee." And she added aloud, + +"Mr. Furnivale may _perhaps_ be able to get one something like it +for Bee, when he goes back to Italy." + +"Then I may show it to her. It won't be unkind to show it her?" asked +Rosy. And when her mother said "No, it would not be unkind," feeling +sure, with her faith in Bee's goodness that Rosy's pleasure would be +met with the heartiest sympathy--for "sympathy," dears, can be shown +to those about us in their joys as well as in their sorrows--Rosy ran +off in the highest spirits. Mr. Furnivale smiled as he saw her +delight, and Mrs. Vincent was, oh so pleased to be able to tell him, +that Rosy, of herself, had offered to give it to Bee, that that was +what she had been whispering about. + +"Not that Beata would have been willing to take it," she added, "she +is the most unselfish child possible." + +[Illustration: 'DID YOU EVER SEE ANYTHING SO PRETTY, BEE?' ROSY +REPEATED.] + +"And unselfishness is sometimes, catching, luckily for poor human +nature," said the old gentleman, laughing. And Mrs. Vincent laughed +too--the whole world seemed to have grown brighter to her since the +little gleam she believed she had had of true gold at the bottom of +Rosy's wayward little heart. + +And Rosy ran gleefully off to her friend. + +"Bee, Bee," she cried, "stop playing, do. I have something to show +you. And you too, Fixie, you may come and see it if you like. See," as +the two children ran up to her breathlessly, and she opened the box, +"see," and she held up the lovely necklace, lovelier than ever as it +glittered in the sunshine, every colour seeming to mix in with the +others and yet to stand out separate in the most beautiful way. "Did +you _ever_ see anything so pretty, Bee?" Rosy repeated. + +"_Never_," said Beata, with her whole heart in her voice. + +"Nebber," echoed Fixie, his blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual. + +"And is it _yours_, Rosy?" asked Bee. + +"Yes mine, my very own. Mr. Furniture brought it me from--from +somewhere. I don't remember the name of the place, but I know it's +somewhere in the country that's the shape of a boot." + +"Italy," said Bee, whose geography was not quite so hazy as Rosy's. + +"Yes, I suppose it's Italy, but I don't care where it came from as +long as I've got it. Oh, isn't it lovely? I may wear it for best. +Won't it be pretty with a quite white frock? And, Bee, they said +something, but perhaps I shouldn't tell." + +"Don't tell it then," said Bee, whose whole attention was given to the +necklace. "O Rosy, I _am_ so glad you've got such a pretty thing. +Don't you feel happy?" and she looked up with such pleasure in her +eyes that Rosy's heart was touched. + +"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the +least bit vexed, Bee, that _you_ haven't got it, or at least that +you haven't got one like it?" + +Beata looked up with real surprise. + +"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy +dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of +such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not +my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll +let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads +gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours! +Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?" + +"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly _pitty_. I could fancy I saw +fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly +kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them." + +"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of +calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and +the corners of his mouth went down. + +"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try +some day and see if we can hear any stories--any way we could fancy +them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I +think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right. +Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your +mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't _think_ how pretty it looks." + +Off ran the three children, and Mrs. Vincent, as she saw them coming, +was pleased to see, as she expected, the brightness of Rosy's face +reflected in Beata's. + +"Mother," whispered Rosy, "I didn't say anything to Bee about her +perhaps getting one too. It was better not, wasn't it? It would be +nicer to be a surprise." + +"Yes, I think it would. Any way it is better to say nothing about it +just yet, as we are not at all _sure_ of it, you know. Does Bee +think the beads very pretty, Rosy?" + +"_Very_," said Rosy, "but she isn't the least _bit_ vexed +for me to have them and not her. She's _quite_ happy, mamma." + +"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Vincent, "and so are you, my Rosy, +when you let yourself _be_ your best self. Rosy," she went on, "I +have a sort of feeling that this pretty necklace will be a kind of +_talisman_ to you--perhaps it is silly of me to say it, but the +idea came into my mind--I was so glad that you offered to give it up +to Bee, and I am so glad for you really to see for yourself how sweet +and unselfish Bee is about it. Do you know what a talisman is?" + +"Yes, mamma," said Rosy, with great satisfaction. "Papa explained it +to me one day when I read it in a book. It is a kind of charm, isn't +it, mamma?--a kind of nice fairy charm. You mean that I should be so +pleased with the necklace, mamma, that it should make me feel happy +and good whenever I see it, and that I should remember, too, how nice +Bee has been about it." + +"Yes, dear," said her mother. "If it makes you feel like that, it +_will_ be a talisman." + +And feeling remarkably pleased with herself and everybody else, Rosy +ran off. + +Mr. Furnivale left the next day, but not without promises of another +visit before very long. + +"When Cecy will come with you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"And give her my bestest love," said Fixie. + +"Yes, indeed, my little man," said Mr. Furnivale, "and I'll tell her +too that she would scarcely know you again--so fat and rosy!" + +"And my love, please," said Beata, "I would _so_ like to see her +again." + +"And mine," added Rosy. "And please tell her how _dreadfully_ +pleased I am with the beads." + +And then the kind old gentleman drove away. + +For some time after this it really seemed as if Rosy's mother's half +fanciful idea was coming true. There was such a great improvement in +Rosy--she seemed so much happier in herself, and to care so much more +about making other people happy too. + +"I really think the necklace _is_ a talisman," said Mrs. Vincent, +laughing, to Rosy's father one day. + +Not that Rosy always wore it. It was kept for dress occasions, but to +her great delight her mother let her take care of it herself, instead +of putting it away with the gold chain and locket her aunt had given +her on her last birthday, and the pearl ring her other godmother had +sent her, which was much too large for her small fingers at present, +and her ivory-bound prayer-book, and various other treasures to be +enjoyed by her when she should be "a big girl." And many an hour the +children amused themselves with the lovely beads, examining them till +they knew every one separately. They even, I believe, had a name for +each, and Fixie had a firm belief that inside each crystal ball a +little fairy dwelt, and that every moonlight night all these fairies +came out and danced about Rosy's room, though he never could manage to +keep awake to see them. + +Altogether, there was no end to the pretty fancies and amusement which +the children got from "Mr. Furniture's present." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HARD TO BEAR. + + + "Give unto me, made lowly-wise, + The spirit of self-sacrifice." +--ODE TO DUTY. + +For some weeks things went on very happily. Of course there were +little troubles among the children sometimes, but compared with a +while ago the nursery was now a very comfortable and peaceful place. + +Martha was quietly pleased, but she had too much sense to say much +about it. Miss Pink was so delighted, that if Bee had not been a +modest and sensible little girl, Miss Pink's over praise of her, as +the cause of all this improvement, might have undone all the good. Not +that Miss Pink was not ready to praise Rosy too, and in a way that +would have done her no good either, if Rosy had cared enough for her +to think much of her praise or her blame. But one word or look even +from her mother was getting to be more to Rosy than all the +good-natured little governess's chatter; a nice smile from Martha +even, she felt to mean _really_ more, and one of Beata's sweet, +bright kisses would sometimes find its way straight to Rosy's queerly +hidden-away heart. + +"You see, Rosy, it _does_ get easier," Bee ventured to say one +day. She looked up a little anxiously to see how Rosy would take it, +for since the night she had found Rosy sobbing in bed they had never +again talked together quite so openly. Indeed, Rosy was not a person +whose confidence was easy to gain. But she was honest--that was the +best of her. + +She looked up quickly when Bee spoke. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it's getting easier. But you see, Bee, there +have only been nice things lately. If anything was to come to vex me +very much, I daresay it would be just like it used to be again. +There's not even been Colin to tease me for a long time!" + +Rosy's way of talking of herself puzzled Bee, though she couldn't +quite explain it. It was right, she knew, for Rosy not to feel too +sure of herself, but still she went too far that way. She almost +talked as if she had nothing to do with her own faults, that they must +come or not come like rainy days. + +"What are you thinking, Bee?" she said, as Bee did not answer at once. + +"I can't tell you quite how I mean, for I don't know it myself," said +Bee. "Only I think you are a little wrong. You should try to say, 'If +things come to vex me, I'll _try_ not to be vexed.'" + +Rosy shook her head. + +"No," she said, "I can't say that, for I don't think I should +_want_ to try," and Beata felt she could not say any more, only +she very much hoped that things to vex Rosy would _not_ come! + +The first thing at all out of the common that did come was, or was +going to be, perhaps I should say, a very nice thing. A note came one +day to Rosy's mother to say that a lady, a friend of hers living a few +miles off, wanted to see her, to talk over a plan she had in her head +for a birthday treat to her two little daughters. These two children +were twins; they were a little younger than Rosy, and she did not know +them _very_ well, as they lived some way off; but Mrs. Vincent +had often wished they could meet oftener, as they were very nice and +good children. + +And when Lady Esther had been, and had had her talk with Rosy's +mother, she looked in at the schoolroom a moment in passing, and +kissed the little girls, smiling, and seeming very pleased, for she +was so kind that nothing pleased her so much as to give pleasure to +others. + +"Your mother will tell you what we have been settling," she said, +nodding her head and looking very mysterious. + +And that afternoon Mrs. Vincent told the children all about it. Lady +Esther was going to have a fête for the twins' birthday--a +garden-fête, for it was to be hoped by that time the weather could be +counted upon, and all the children were to have fancy dresses! That +was to be the best fun of it all. Not very grand or expensive dresses, +and nothing which would make them uncomfortable, or prevent their +running about freely. Lady Esther's idea was that the children should +be dressed in _sets_, which would look very pretty when they came +into the big hall to dance before leaving. Lady Esther had proposed +that Rosy and Bee should be dressed as the pretty French queen, Marie +Antoinette, whom no doubt you have heard of, and her sister-in-law the +good princess, Madame Elizabeth. Fixie was to be the little prince, +and Lady Esther's youngest little girl the young princess, while the +twins were to be two maids of honour. But Rosy's mother had said she +would like better for her little girls to be the maids of honour, and +the twins to be the queen and princess, which seemed quite right, as +the party was to be in their house. And so it was settled. + +A few days later Lady Esther sent over sketches of the dresses she +proposed to have, and the children were greatly pleased and +interested. + +"May I wear my beads, mamma?" asked Rosy. + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"I daresay you can," she said, and Rosy clapped her hands with +delight, and everything seemed as happy as possible. + +"But remember," said Mrs. Vincent, "it is still quite a month off. Do +not talk or think about it _too_ much, or you will tire yourselves +out in fancy before the real pleasure comes." + +This was good advice. Bee tried to follow it by doing her lessons as +usual, and giving the same attention to them. But Rosy, with some of +her old self-will, would not leave off talking about the promised +treat. She was tiresome and careless at her lessons, and Miss Pink was +not firm enough to check her. Morning, noon, and night, Rosy went on +about the fete, most of all about the dresses, till Bee sometimes +wished the birthday treat had never been thought of, or at least that +Rosy had never been told of it. + +One morning when the children came down to see Mr. and Mrs. Vincent at +their breakfast, which they often were allowed to do, though they +still had their own breakfast earlier than the big people, in the +nursery with Martha, Beata noticed that Rosy's mother looked grave and +rather troubled. Bee took no notice of it, however, except that when +she kissed her, she said softly, + +"Are you not quite well, auntie?" for so Rosy's mother liked her to +call her. + +"Oh yes, dear, I am quite well," she answered, though rather wearily, +and a few minutes after, when Mr. Vincent had gone out to speak to +some of the servants, she called Rosy and Bee to come to her. + +"Rosy and Bee," she said kindly but gravely, "do you remember my +advising you not to talk or to think too much about Lady Esther's +treat?" + +"Yes," said Bee, and "Yes," said Rosy, though in a rather sulky tone +of voice. + +"Well, then, I should not have had to remind you both of my advice. I +am really sorry to have to find fault about anything to do with the +birthday party. I wanted it to have been nothing but pleasure to you. +But Miss Pink has told me she does not know what to do with you--that +you are so careless and inattentive, and constantly chattering about +Lady Esther's plan, and that at last she felt she must tell me." + +Bee felt her cheeks grow red. Mrs. Vincent thought she felt ashamed, +but it was not shame. Poor Bee, she had _never_ before felt as +she did just now. It was not true--how could Miss Pink have said so of +her? She knew it was not true, and the words, "I _haven't_ been +careless--I did do just what you said," were bursting out of her lips +when she stopped. What good would it do to defend herself except to +make Mrs. Vincent more vexed with Rosy, and to cause fresh bad +feelings in Rosy's heart? Would it not be better to say nothing, to +bear the blame, rather than lose the kind feelings that Rosy was +getting to have to her? All these thoughts were running through her +mind, making her feel rather puzzled and confused, for Bee did not +always see things very quickly; she needed to think them over, when, +to her surprise, Rosy looked up. + +"It isn't true," she said, not very respectfully it must be owned, "it +isn't true that Bee has been careless. If Miss Pink thinks telling +stories about Bee will make me any better, she's very silly, and I +shall just not care what she says about anything." + +"Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent sternly, "you shall care what _I_ say. +Go to your room and stay there, and you, Beata, go to yours. I am +surprised that you should encourage Rosy in her naughty contradiction, +for it is nothing else that makes her speak so of what Miss Pink felt +obliged to say of you." + +Rosy turned away with the cool sullen manner that had not been seen +for some time. Bee, choking with sobs--never, _never_, she said +to herself, not even when her mother went away, had she felt so +miserable, never had Aunt Lillias spoken to her like that before--poor +Bee rushed off to her room, and shutting the door, threw herself on +the floor and wondered _what_ she should do! + +Mrs. Vincent, if she had only known it, was nearly as unhappy as she. +It was not often she allowed herself to feel worried and vexed, as she +had felt that morning, but everything had seemed to go wrong--Miss +Pink's complaints, which were _not_ true, about Bee had really +grieved her. For Miss Pink had managed to make it seem that it was +mostly Bee's fault---and she had said little things which had made +Mrs. Vincent really unhappy about Bee being so very sweet and good +before people, but not _really_ so good when one saw more of her. + +Mrs. Vincent would not let Miss Pink see that she minded what she +said; she would hardly own it to herself. But for all that it had left +a sting. + +"_Can_ I have been mistaken in Bee?" was the thought that kept +coming into her mind. For Miss Pink had mixed up truth with untruths. + +"_Rosy,_" she had said, "whatever her faults, is so very honest," +which her mother knew to be true, but Mrs. Vincent did not--for she +was too honest herself to doubt other people--see that Miss Pink liked +better to throw the blame on Bee, not out of ill-will to Bee, but +because she was so very afraid that if there was any more trouble +about Rosy, she would have to leave off being her governess. + +Then this very morning too had brought a letter from Rosy's aunt, +proposing a visit for the very next week, accompanied, of course, by +the maid who had done Rosy so much harm! Poor Mrs. Vincent--it really +was trying--and she did not even like to tell Rosy's father how much +she dreaded his sister's visit. For Aunt Edith had meant and wished to +be so truly kind to Rosy that it seemed ungrateful not to be glad to +see her. + +Rosy and Bee were left in their rooms till some time later than the +usual school-hour, for Mrs. Vincent, wanting them to think over what +she had said, told Miss Pink to give Fixie his lessons first, and +then, before sending for the little girls to come down, she had a talk +with Miss Pink. + +"I have spoken to both Rosy and Bee very seriously, and told them of +your complaints," she said. + +Miss Pink grew rather red and looked uncomfortable. + +"I should be sorry for them to think I complained out of any +unkindness," she said. + +"It is not unkindness. It is only telling the truth to answer me when +I ask how they have been getting on," said Mrs. Vincent, rather +coldly. "Besides I myself saw how very badly Rosy's exercises were +written. I am very disappointed about Beata," she added, looking Miss +Pink straight in the face, and it seemed to her that the little +governess grew again red. "I can only hope they will both do better +now." + +Then Rosy and Bee were sent for. Rosy came in with a hard look on her +face. Bee's eyes were swollen with crying, and she seemed as if she +dared not look at her aunt, but she said nothing. Mrs. Vincent +repeated to them what she had just said about hoping they would do +better. + +"I will do my best," said Beata tremblingly, for she felt as if +another word would make her burst out crying again. + +"Oh, I am sure they are both going to be very good little girls now," +said Miss Pink, in her silly, fussy way, as if she was in a hurry to +change the subject, which indeed she was. + +Bee raised her poor red eyes, and looked at her quietly, and Mrs. +Vincent saw the look. Rosy, who had not yet spoken, muttered +something, but so low that nobody could quite hear it; only the words +"stories" and "not true" were heard. + +"Rosy," said her mother very severely, "be silent!" and soon after she +left the room. + +The schoolroom party was not a very cheerful one this morning, but +things went on quietly. Miss Pink was plainly uncomfortable, and made +several attempts to make friends, as it were, with Bee. Bee answered +gently, but that was all, and as soon as lessons were over she went +quietly upstairs. + +Two days after, Miss Vincent arrived. Rosy was delighted to hear she +was coming, and her pleasure in it seemed to make her forget about +Bee's undeserved troubles. So poor Bee had to try to forget them +herself. Her lessons were learnt and written without a fault--it was +impossible for Miss Pink to find anything to blame; and indeed she did +not wish to do so, or to be unkind, to Beata, so long as things went +smoothly with Rosy. And for these two days everything was very smooth. +Rosy did not want to be in disgrace when her aunt came, and she, too, +did her best, so that the morning of the day when Miss Vincent was +expected, Miss Pink told the children, with a most amiable face, that +she would be able to give a very good report of them to Rosy's mother. + +Bee said nothing. Rosy, turning round, saw the strange, half-sad look +on Bee's face, and it came back into her mind how unhappy her little +friend had been, and how little she had deserved to be so. And in her +heart, too, Rosy knew that in reality it was owing to _her_ that +Beata had suffered, and a sudden feeling of sorrow rushed over her, +and, to Miss Pink's and Bee's astonishment, she burst out, + +"You may say what you like of me to mamma, Miss Pink. It is true I +have done my lessons well for two days, and it is true I did them +badly before. But if you can't tell the truth about Bee, it would be +much better for you to say nothing at all." + +Miss Pink grew pinker than usual, and she was opening her lips to +speak, when Beata interrupted her. + +"Don't say anything, Miss Pink," she said. "It's no good. _I_ +have said nothing, and--and I'll try to forget--you know what. I don't +want there to be any more trouble. It doesn't matter for me. O Rosy +dear," she went on entreatingly, "_don't_ say anything more that +might make more trouble, and vex your mamma with you, just as your +aunt's coming. Oh, _don't_." + +She put her arms round Rosy as if she would have held her back, Rosy +only looking half convinced. But in her heart Rosy _was_ very +anxious not to be in any trouble when her aunt came. She didn't quite +explain to herself why. Some of the reasons were good, and some were +not very good. One of the best was, I think, that she didn't want her +mother to be more vexed, or to have the fresh vexation of her aunt +seeming to think--as she very likely would, if there was any excuse +for it--that Rosy was less good under her mother's care than she had +been in Miss Vincent's. + +Rosy was learning truly to love, and what, for her nature, was almost +of more consequence, really to _trust_ her mother, and a feeling +of _loyalty_--if you know what that beautiful word means, dear +children,--I hope you do--was beginning for the first time to grow in +her cross-grained, suspicious little heart. Then, again, for her own +sake, Rosy wished all to be smooth when her aunt and Nelson arrived, +which was not a _bad_ feeling, if not a very good or unselfish +one. And then, again, she did not want to have any trouble connected +with Bee. She knew her Aunt Edith had not liked the idea of Bee +coming, and that if she fancied the little stranger was the cause of +any worry to her darling she would try to get her sent away. And Rosy +did not now _at all_ want Bee to be sent away! + +These different feelings were all making themselves heard rather +confusedly in her heart, and she hardly knew what to answer to Bee's +appeal, when Miss Pink came to the rescue. + +"Bee is right, Rosy," she said, her rather dolly-looking face flushing +again. "It is much better to leave things. You may trust me to--to +speak very kindly of--of you _both_. And if I was--at all +mistaken in what I said of you the other day, Bee--perhaps you had +been trying more than I--than I gave you credit for--I'm very sorry. +If I can say anything to put it right, I will. But it is very +difficult to--to tell things quite correctly sometimes. I had been +worried and vexed, and then Mrs. Vincent rather startled me by asking +me about you, Rosy, and by something she said about my not managing +you well. And--oh, I don't know _what_ we would do, my mother and +I, if I lost this nice situation!" she burst out suddenly, forgetting +everything else in her distress. "And poor mamma has been _so_ +ill lately, I've often scarcely slept all night. I daresay I've been +cross sometimes"--and Miss Pink finished up by bursting into tears. +Her distress gave the finishing touch to Bee's determination to bear +the undeserved blame. + +"No, poor Miss Pink," she said, running round to the little +governess's side of the table, "I _don't_ think you are cross. I +shouldn't mind if you were a little sometimes. And I know we are often +troublesome--aren't we, Rosy?" Rosy gave a little grunt, which was a +good deal for her, and showed that her feelings, too, were touched. +"But just then I _had_ been trying. Aunt Lillias had spoken to us +about it, and I _did_ want to please her"--and the unbidden tears +rose to Bee's eyes. "Please, Miss Pink, don't think I don't know when +I _am_ to blame, but--but you won't speak that way of me another +time when I've not been to blame." A sort of smothered sob here came +from Miss Pink, as a match to Rosy's grunt. "And _please_," Bee +went on, "don't say _anything_ more about that time to Aunt +Lillias. It's done now, and it would only make fresh trouble." + +That it would make trouble for _her_, Miss Pink felt convinced, +and she was not very difficult to persuade to take Bee's advice. + +"It would indeed bring _me_ trouble," she thought, as she walked +home more slowly than usual that the fresh air might take away the +redness from her eyes before her mother saw her. "I know Mrs. Vincent +would never forgive me if she thought I had exaggerated or +misrepresented. I'm sure I didn't want to blame Bee; but I was so +startled; and Mrs. Vincent seemed to think so much less of it when I +let her suppose they had _both_ been careless and tiresome. But +it has been a lesson to me. And Beata is _very_ good. I could +never say a word against her again." + +Miss Vincent arrived, and with her, of course, her maid Nelson. +Everything went off most pleasantly the first evening. Aunt Edith +seemed delighted to see Rosy again, and that was only kind and +natural. And she said to every one how well Rosy was looking, and how +much she was grown, and said, too, how nice it was for her to have a +companion of her own age. She had been so pleased to hear about little +Miss Warwick from Cecy Furnivale, whom she had seen lately. + +Bee stared rather at this. She hardly knew herself under the name of +little Miss Warwick; but she answered Miss Vincent's questions in her +usual simple way, and told Rosy, when they went up to bed, that she +did not wonder she loved her aunt--she seemed so very kind. + +"Yes," said Rosy. Then she sat still for a minute or two, as if she +was thinking over something very deeply. "I don't think I'd like to go +back to live with auntie," she said at last. + +"To leave your mother! No, _of course_ you wouldn't," exclaimed +Bee, as if there could be no doubt about the matter. + +"But I did think once I would," said Rosy, nodding her head--"I did." + +"I don't believe you really did," said Bee calmly. "Perhaps you +_thought_ you did when you were vexed about something." + +"Well, I don't see much difference between wanting a thing, and +_thinking_ you want it," said Rosy. + +This was one of the speeches which Bee did not find it very easy to +answer all at once, so she told Rosy she would think it over in her +dreams, for she was very sleepy, and she was sure Aunt Lillias would +be vexed if they didn't go to bed quickly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR. + + + "And the former called the latter 'little Prig.'"--EMERSON. + +"And how well that sweet child is looking, Nelson," said Miss Vincent +that evening to her maid as she was brushing her hair. + +"I am glad you think so, ma'am," replied Nelson, in a rather queer +tone of voice. + +"Why, what do you mean?" said Miss Vincent. "Do _you_ not think +so? To be sure it was by candlelight, and I am very near-sighted, but +I don't think any one could say that she looks ill. She is both taller +and stouter." + +"Perhaps so, ma'am. I wasn't thinking so much of her healthfulness. +With the care that _was_ taken of her, she couldn't but be a fine +child. But it's her _feelin's_, ma'am, that seems to be so +changed. All her spirits, her lovely high spirits, gone! Why, this +evening, that Martha--or whatever they call her--a' upsetting thing +_I_ call her--spoke to her that short about having left the +nursery door open because Master Fixie chose to fancy he was cold, +that I wonder any young lady would take it. And Miss Rosy, bless her, +up she got and shut it as meek as meek, and 'I'm very sorry, Martha--I +forgot,' she said. I couldn't believe my ears. I could have cried to +see her so kept down like. And she's so quiet and so grave." + +"She is certainly quieter than she used to be," said Miss Vincent, +"but surely she can't be unhappy. She would have told me--and I +thought it was so nice for her to have that little companion." + +"Umph," said Nelson. She had a way of her own of saying "umph" that it +is impossible to describe. Then in a minute or two she went on again. +"Well, ma'am, you know I'm one as must speak my mind. And the truth is +I _don't_ like that Miss Bee, as they call her, at all. She's far +too good, by way of being too good, I mean, for a child. Give me Miss +Rosy's tempers and fidgets--I'd rather have them than those +smooth-faced ways. And she's come round Miss Rosy somehow. Why, ma'am, +you'd hardly believe it, she'd hardly a word for me when she first saw +me. It was 'Good-evening, Nelson. How do you do?' as cool like as +could be. And it was all that Miss Bee's doing. I saw Miss Rosy look +round at her like to see what she thought of it." + +"Well, well, Nelson," said Miss Vincent, quite vexed and put out, "I +don't see what is to be done. We can't take the child away from her +own parents. All the same, I'm very glad to have come to see for +myself, and if I find out anything not nice about that child, I shall +stand upon no ceremony, I assure you," and with this Nelson had to be +content. + +It was true that Rosy had met Nelson very coldly. As I have told you +before, Rosy was by no means clever at _pretending_, and a very +good thing it is _not_ to be so. She had come to take a dislike +to Nelson, and to wonder how she could ever have been so under her. +Especially now that she was learning to love and trust Beata, she did +not like to let her know how many wrong and jealous ideas Nelson had +put in her head, and so before Beata she was very cold to the maid. +But in this Rosy was wrong. Nelson had taught her much that had done +her harm, but still she had been, or had meant to be, very good and +kind to Rosy, and Rosy owed her for this real gratitude. It was a +pity, too, for Bee's sake that Rosy had been so cold and stiff to +Nelson, for on Bee, Nelson laid all the blame of it, and the harm did +not stop here, as you will see. + +Miss Vincent never got up early, and the next morning passed as usual. +But she sent for Rosy to come to her room while she was dressing, +after the morning lessons were over, which prevented the two little +girls having their usual hour's play in the garden, and Beata wandered +about rather sadly, feeling as if Rosy was being taken away from her. +At luncheon Rosy came in holding her aunt's hand and looking very +pleased. + +"You don't know what lovely things auntie's been giving me," she said +to Bee as she passed her. "And Nelson's making me such a +_beautiful_ apron--the newest fashion." + +Nelson had managed to get into Rosy's favour again--that was clear. +Beata did not think this to herself. She was too simple and +kind-hearted to think anything except that it was natural for Rosy to +be glad to see her old nurse again, though Bee had a feeling somehow +that she didn't much care for Nelson and that Nelson didn't care for +her! + +"By-the-bye, Rosy," said Mrs. Vincent, in the middle of luncheon, "did +you show your aunt your Venetian beads?" + +"Yes," said Miss Vincent, answering for Rosy, "she did, and great +beauties they are." + +"_Nelson_ didn't think so--at least not at first," said Rosy, +rather spitefully. She had always had a good deal of spite at Nelson, +even long ago, when Nelson had had so much power of her. "Nelson said +they were glass trash, till auntie explained to her." + +"She didn't understand what they were," said Miss Vincent, seeming a +little annoyed. "She thinks them beautiful now." + +"Yes _now_, because she knows they must have cost a lot of +money," persisted Rosy. "Nelson never thinks anything pretty that +doesn't cost a lot." + +These remarks were not pleasant to Miss Vincent. She knew that Mrs. +Vincent thought Nelson too free in her way of speaking, and she did +not like any of her rather impertinent sayings to be told over. + +"Certainly," she thought to herself, "I think it is quite a mistake +that Rosy is too much kept down," but just as she was thinking this, +Rosy's mother looked up and said to her quietly, "Rosy, I don't think +you should talk so much. And you, Bee, are almost too silent!" she +added, smiling at Beata, for she had a feeling that since Miss +Vincent's arrival Bee looked rather lonely. + +"Yes," said Rosy's aunt, "we don't hear your voice at all, Miss Beata. +You're not like my chatter-box Rosy, who always must say out what she +thinks." + +The words sounded like a joke--there was nothing in them to vex Bee, +but something in the tone in which they were said made the little girl +grow red and hot. + +"I--I was listening to all of you," she said quietly. She was anxious +to say something, not to seem to Mrs. Vincent as if she was cross or +vexed. + +"Yes," said Rosy's mother. "Rosy and her aunt have a great deal to say +to each other after being so long without meeting," and Miss Vincent +looked pleased at this, as Rosy's mother meant her to be. + +"By-the-bye," continued Mrs. Vincent, "has Rosy told you all about the +fête there is going to be at Summerlands?" Summerlands was the name of +Lady Esther's house. + +"Oh yes," said Miss Vincent, "and very charming it will be, no doubt, +only _I_ should have liked my pet to be the queen, as she tells +me was at first proposed." + +This was what Mrs. Vincent thought one of Aunt Edith's silly speeches, +and Rosy could not help wishing when she heard it that she had not +told her aunt that her being the queen had been thought of at all. She +looked a little uncomfortable, and her mother, glancing at her, +understood her feelings and felt sorry for her. + +"I think it is better as it is," she said. "Would you like to hear +about the dresses Rosy and Bee are to wear?" she went on. "I think +they will be very pretty. Lady Esther has ordered them in London with +her own little girls'." And then she told Miss Vincent all about the +dresses, so that Rosy's uncomfortable feeling went away, and she felt +grateful to her mother. + +After luncheon the little girls went out together in the garden. + +"I'm so glad to be together again," said Bee, "it seems to me as if I +had hardly seen you to-day, Rosy." + +"What nonsense!" said Rosy. "Why, I was only in auntie's room for +about a quarter of an hour after Miss Pink went." + +"A quarter of an hour," said Bee. "No indeed, Rosy. You were more than +an hour, I am sure. I was reading to Fixie in the nursery, for he's +got a cold and he mayn't go out, and you don't know what a great lot I +read. And oh, Rosy, Fixie wants so to know if he may have your beads +this afternoon, just to hold in his hand and look at. He can't hurt +them." + +"Very well," said Rosy. "He may have them for half an hour or so, but +not longer." + +"Shall I go and give them to him now?" said Bee, ready to run off. + +"Oh no, he won't need them just yet. Let's have a run first. Let's see +which of us will get to the middle bush first--you go right and I'll +go left." + +This race round the lawn was a favourite one with the children. They +were playing merrily, laughing and calling to each other, when a +messenger was seen coming to them from the house. It was Samuel the +footman. + +"Miss Rosy," he said as he came within hearing, "you must please to +come in _at onst_. Miss Vincent is going a drive and you are to +go with her." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Rosy, "I don't think I want to go." + +"I think you must," said Bee, though she could not help sighing a +little. + +"Miss Vincent is going to Summerlands," said Samuel. + +"Oh, then I _do_ want to go," said Rosy. "Never mind, Bee--I wish +you were going too. But I'll tell you all I hear about the party when +I come' back. But I'm sorry you're not going." + +She kissed Bee as she ran off. This was a good deal more than Rosy +would have done some weeks ago, and Bee, feeling this, tried to be +content. But the garden seemed dull and lonely after Rosy had gone, +and once or twice the tears would come into Bee's eyes. + +"After all," she said to herself, "those little girls are much the +happiest who can always live with their own mammas and have sisters +and brothers of their own, and then there can't be strange aunts who +are not their aunts." But then she thought to herself how much better +it was for her than for many little girls whose mothers had to be away +and who were sent to school, where they had no such kind friend as +Mrs. Vincent. + +"I'll go in and read to Fixie," she then decided, and she made her way +to the house. + +Passing along the passage by the door of Rosy's room, it came into her +mind that she might as well get the beads for Fixie which Rosy had +given leave for. She went in--the room was rather in confusion, for +Rosy had been dressing in a hurry for her drive--but Bee knew where +the beads were kept, and, opening the drawer, she found them easily. +She was going away with them in her hand when a sharp voice startled +her. It was Nelson. Bee had not noticed that she was in a corner of +the room hanging up some of Rosy's things, for, much to Martha's +vexation, Nelson was very fond of coming into Rosy's room and helping +her to dress. + +"What are you doing in Miss Rosy's drawers?" said Nelson; and Bee, +from surprise at her tone and manner, felt herself get red, and her +voice trembled a little as she answered. + +"I was getting something for Master Fixie--something for him to play +with." And she held up the necklace. + +Nelson looked at her still in a way that was not at all nice. "And who +said you might?" she said next. + +"Rosy--_of course_, Miss Rosy herself," said Bee, opening her +eyes, "I would not take anything of hers without her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of grunt. But she had an ill-will at the pretty +beads, because she had called them rubbish, not knowing what they +were; so she said nothing more, and Bee went quietly away, not hearing +the words Nelson muttered to herself, "Sly little thing. I don't like +those quiet ways." + +When Bee got to the nursery, she was very glad she had come. Fixie was +sitting in a corner looking very desolate, for Martha was busy looking +over the linen, as it was Saturday, and his head was "a'ting +dedfully," he said. He brightened up when he saw Bee and what she had +brought, and for more than an hour the two children sat perfectly +happy and content examining the wonderful beads, and making up little +fanciful stories about the fairies who were supposed to live in them. +Then when Fixie seemed to have had enough of the beads, Bee and he +took them back to Rosy's room and put them carefully away, and then +returned to the nursery, where they set to work to make a house with +the chairs and Fixie's little table. The nursery was not carpeted all +over--that is to say, round the edge of the room the wood of the floor +was left bare, for this made it more easy to lift the carpet often and +shake it on the grass, which is a very good thing, especially in a +nursery. The house was an old one, and so the wood floor was not very +pretty; here and there it was rather uneven, and there were queer +cracks in it. + +"See, Bee," said Fixie, while they were making their house, "see what +a funny place I've found in the f'oor," and he pointed to a small, +dark, round hole. It was made by what is called a knot in the wood +having dried up and dropped out long, long ago probably, for, as I +told you, the house was very old. + +"What is there down there, does you fink?" said Fixie, looking up at +Bee and then down again at the mysterious hole. "Does it go down into +the middle of the world, p'raps?" + +Beata laughed. + +"Oh no, Fixie, not so far as that, I am sure," she said. "At the most, +it can't go farther than the ceiling of the room underneath." + +Fixie looked puzzled, and Bee explained to him that there was a small +space left behind the wood planking which make the floor of one room +and the thinner boards which are the ceiling of an under room. + +[Illustration: 'WHAT IS THERE DOWN THERE, DOES YOU FINK?' SAID FIXIE] + +"The ceiling doesn't need to be so strong, you see," she said. "We +don't walk and jump on the ceiling, but we do on the floor, so the +ceiling boards would not be strong enough for the floor." + +"Yes," said Fixie, "on'y the flies walks on the ceiling, and they's +not very heavy, is they, Bee? But," he went on, "I would like to see +down into this hole. If I had a long piece of 'ting I could +_fish_ down into it, couldn't I, Bee? You don't fink there's +anything dedful down there, do you? Not fogs or 'nakes?" + +"No," said Bee, "I'm sure there are no frogs or snakes. There +_might_ be some little mice." + +"Is mice the same as mouses?" said Fixie; and when Bee nodded, "Why +don't you say mouses then?" he asked, "it's a much samer word." + +"But I didn't make the words," said Bee, "one has to use them the way +that's counted right." + +But Fixie seemed rather grumbly and cross. + +"_I_ like mouses," he persisted; and so, to change his ideas, Bee +went on talking about the knot hole. "We might get a stick to-morrow," +she said, "and poke it down to see how far it would go." + +"Not a 'tick," said Fixie, "it would hurt the little mouses. I didn't +say a 'tick--I said a piece of 'ting. I fink you'se welly unkind, Bee, +to hurt the poor little mouses," and he grew so very doleful about it +that Bee was quite glad when Martha called them to tea. + +"I don't know what's the matter with Fixie," she said to Martha, in a +low voice. + +"He's not very well," said Martha, looking at her little boy +anxiously. But tea seemed to do Fixie good, and he grew brighter +again, so that Martha began to think there could not be much wrong. + +Nursery tea was long over before Rosy came home, and so she stayed +down in the drawing-room to have some with her mother and aunt. And +even after that she did not come back to the other children, but went +into her aunt's room to look over some things they had bought in the +little town they had passed, coming home. She just put her head in at +the nursery door, seeming in very high spirits, and called out to Bee +that she would tell her how nice it had been at Summerlands. + +But the evening went on. Fixie grew tired and cross, and Martha put +him to bed; and it was not till nearly the big people's dinner-time +that Rosy came back to the nursery, swinging her hat on her arm, and +looking rather untidy and tired too. "I think I'll go to bed," she +said. "It makes me feel funny in my head, driving so far." + +"Let me put away your hat, Miss Rosy," said Martha, "it's getting all +crushed and it's your best one." + +"Oh, bother," said Rosy, and the tone was like the Rosy of some months +ago. "What does it matter? _You_ won't have to pay for a new +one." + +Martha said nothing, but quietly put away the hat, which had fallen on +the floor. Bee, too, said nothing, but her heart was full. She had +been alone, except for poor little Fixie, all the afternoon; and the +last hour or so she had been patiently waiting for Rosy to come to the +nursery to tell her, as she had promised, all her adventures. + +"I'm going to bed," repeated Rosy. + +"Won't you stay and talk a little?" said Bee; "you said you would tell +me about Summerlands." + +"I'm too tired," said Rosy. Then suddenly she added, sharply, "What +were you doing in my drawers this afternoon?" + +"In your drawers?" repeated Bee, half stupidly, as it were. She was +not, as I have told you, very quick in catching up a meaning; she was +thoughtful and clear-headed but rather slow, and when any one spoke +sharply it made her still slower. "In your drawers, Rosy?" she said +again, for, for a moment, she forgot about having fetched the +necklace. + +"Yes," said Rosy, "you were in my drawers, for Nelson told me. She +said I wasn't to tell you she'd told me, but I told her I would. I +don't like mean ways. But I'd just like to know what you were doing +among my things." + +It all came back to Bee now. + +"I only went to fetch the beads for Fixie," she said, her voice +trembling. "You said I might." + +"And did you put them back again? And did you not touch anything +else?" Rosy went on. + +"Of course I put them back, and--_of course_ I didn't touch +anything else," exclaimed Bee. "Rosy, how can you, how dare you speak +to me like that? As if I would steal your things. You have no +_right_ to speak that way, and Nelson is a bad, horrible woman. I +will tell your mother all about it to-morrow morning." + +And bursting into tears, Beata ran out of the nursery to take refuge +in her own room. Nor would she come out or speak to Rosy when she +knocked at the door and begged her to do so. But she let Martha in to +help her to undress, and listened gently to the good nurse's advice +not to take Miss Rosy's unkindness to heart. + +"She's sorry for it already," said Martha. "And, though perhaps I +shouldn't say it, you can see for yourself, Miss Bee dear, that it's +not herself, as one may say." And Martha gave a sigh. "I'm sorry for +Miss Rosy's mamma," she added, as she bid Bee good-night. And the +words went home to Bee's loving, grateful little heart. It was very +seldom, very seldom indeed, that unkind or ungentle thoughts or +feelings rested there. Never hardly in all her life had Beata given +way to anger as she had done that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +STINGS FOR BEE. + + + "And I will look up the chimney, + And into the cupboard to make quite sure." +--AUTHOR OF LILLIPUT LEVEE. + +Fixie was not quite well the next morning, as Martha had hoped he +would be. Still he did not seem ill enough to stay in bed, so she +dressed him as usual. But at breakfast he rested his head on his hand, +looking very doleful, "very sorry for himself," as Scotch people say. +And Martha, though she tried to cheer him up, was evidently anxious. + +Mother came up to see him after breakfast, and she looked less uneasy +than Martha. + +"It's only a cold, I fancy," she said, but when Martha followed her +out of the room and reminded her of all the children's illnesses Fixie +had _not_ had, and which often look like a cold at the beginning, +she agreed that it might be better to send for the doctor. + +"Have you any commissions for Blackthorpe?" she said to Miss Vincent +when she, Aunt Edith, came down to the drawing-room, a little earlier +than usual that morning. "I am going to send to ask the doctor to come +and see Fixie." + +Aunt Edith had already heard from Nelson about Felix not being well, +and that was why she had got up earlier, for she was in a great +fright. + +"I am thankful to hear it," she said; "for there is no saying what his +illness may be going to be. But, Lillias, _of course_ you won't +let darling Rosy stay in the nursery." + +"I hadn't thought about it," said Rosy's mother. "Perhaps I am a +little careless about these things, for you see all the years I was in +India I had only Fixie, and he was quite out of the way of infection. +Besides, Rosy has had measles and scarlet fever, and----" + +"But not whooping-cough, or chicken-pox, or mumps, or even smallpox. +Who knows but what it may be smallpox," said Aunt Edith, working +herself up more and more. + +Mrs. Vincent could hardly help smiling. "I _don't_ think that's +likely," she said. "However, I am glad you mentioned the risk, for I +think there is much more danger for Bee than for Rosy, for Bee, like +Fixie, has had none of these illnesses. I will go up to the nursery +and speak to Martha about it at once," and she turned towards the +door. + +"But you will separate Rosy too," insisted Miss Vincent, "the dear +child can sleep in my room. Nelson will be only too delighted to have +her again." + +"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would +be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head +again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped +Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so +much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave +Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in +the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." + +The doctor came in the afternoon, but he was not able to say much. It +would take, he said, a day or two to decide what was the matter with +the little fellow. But Fixie was put to bed, and Rosy and Bee were +told on no account to go into either of the nurseries. Fixie was not +sorry to go to bed; he had been so dull all the morning, playing by +himself in a comer of the nursery, but he cried a little when he was +told that Bee must not come and sit by him and read or tell him +stories as she always was ready to do when he was not quite well. And +Bee looked ready to cry too when she saw his distress! + +It was not a very cheerful time. The children felt unsettled by being +kept out of their usual rooms and ways. Rosy was constantly running +off to her aunt's room, or to ask Nelson about something or other, and +Bee did not like to follow her, for she had an uncomfortable feeling +that neither Nelson nor her mistress liked her to come. Nelson was in +a very gloomy humour. + +"It will be a sad pity to be sure," she said to Rosy, "if Master +Fixie's gone and got any sort of catching illness." + +"How do you mean?" said Rosy. "It won't much matter except that Bee +and I can't go into the nursery or my room. Bee's room has a door out +into the other passage, I heard mamma saying we could sleep there if +the nursery door was kept locked. I think it would be fun to sleep in +Bee's room. I shouldn't mind." + +Nelson grunted. She did not approve of Rosy's liking Beata. + +"Ah, well," she said, "it isn't only your Aunt Edith that's afraid of +infection. If it's measles that Master Fixie's got, you won't go to +Lady Esther's party, Miss Rosy." + +Rosy opened her eyes. "Not go to the party! we _must_ go," she +exclaimed, and before Nelson knew what she was about, off Rosy had +rushed to confide this new trouble to Bee, and hear what she would say +about it. Bee, too, looked grave, for her heart was greatly set on the +idea of the Summerlands fete. + +"I don't know," she replied. "I hope dear little Fixie is not going to +be very ill. Any way, Rosy, I don't think Nelson should have said +that. Your mother would have told us herself if she had wanted us to +know it." + +"Indeed," said a harsh voice behind her, "I don't require a little +chit like you, Miss Bee, to teach me my duty," and turning round, +Beata saw that Nelson was standing in the doorway, for she had +followed Rosy, a little afraid of the effect of what she had told her. +Bee felt sorry that Nelson had overheard what she had said, though +indeed there was no harm in it. + +"I did not mean to vex you, Nelson," she said, "but I'm sure it is +better to wait till Aunt Lillias tells us herself." + +Nelson looked very angry, and walked off in a huff, muttering +something the children could not catch. + +"I wish you wouldn't always quarrel with Nelson," said Rosy crossly. +"She always gets on with _me_ quite well. I shall have to go and +get her into a good humour again, for I want her to finish my apron." + +Rosy ran off, but Bee stayed alone, her eyes filled with tears. + +"It _isn't_ my fault," she said to herself. "I don't know what to +do. Nothing is the same since they came. I'll write to mother and ask +her not to leave me here any longer. I'd rather be at school or +anywhere than stay here when they're all so unkind to me now." + +But then wiser thoughts came into her mind. They weren't "all" unkind, +and she knew that Mrs. Vincent herself had troubles to bear. +Besides--what was it her mother had always said to her?--that it was +at such times that one's real wish to be good was tried; when all is +smooth and pleasant and every one kind and loving, what is easier than +to be kind and pleasant in return? It is when others are _not_ +kind, but sharp and suspicious and selfish, that one _has_ to +"try" to return good for evil, gentleness for harshness, kind thoughts +and ways for the cold looks or angry words which one cannot help +feeling sadly, but which lose half their sting when not treasured up +and exaggerated by dwelling upon them. + +And feeling happier again, Bee went back to what she was busy +at--making a little toy scrap-book for Fixie which she meant to send +in to him the next morning as if it had come by post. And she had need +of her good resolutions, for she hardly saw Rosy again all day, and +when they were going to bed Nelson came to help Rosy to undress and +went on talking to her so much all the time about people and places +Bee knew nothing about, that it was impossible for her to join in at +all. She kissed Rosy as kindly as usual when Nelson had left the room, +but it seemed to her that her kiss was very coldly returned. + +"You're not vexed with me for anything, are you, Rosy?" she could not +help saying. + +"Vexed with you? No, I never said I was vexed with you," Rosy +answered. "I wish you wouldn't go on like that, Bee, it's tiresome. I +can't be always kissing and petting you." + +And that was all the comfort poor Bee could get to go to sleep with! + +For a day or two still the doctor could not say what was wrong with +Fixie, but at last he decided that it was only a sort of feverish +attack brought on by his having somehow or other caught cold, for +there had been some damp and rainy weather, even though spring was now +fast turning into summer. + +The little fellow had been rather weak and out of sorts for some time, +and as soon as he was better, Mrs. Vincent made up her mind to send +him off with Martha for a fortnight to a sheltered seaside village not +far from their home. Beata was very sorry to see them go. She almost +wished she was going with them, for though she had done her best to be +patient and cheerful, nothing was the same as before the coming of +Rosy's aunt. Rosy scarcely seemed to care to play with her at all. Her +whole time, when not at her lessons, was spent in her aunt's room, +generally with Nelson, who was never tired of amusing her and giving +in to all her fancies. Bee grew silent and shy. She was losing her +bright happy manner, and looked as if she no longer felt sure that she +was a welcome little guest. Mrs. Vincent saw the change in her, but +did not quite understand it, and felt almost inclined to be vexed with +her. + +"She knows it is only for a short time that Rosy's aunt is here. She +might make the best of it," thought Mrs. Vincent. For she did not know +fully how lonely Bee's life now was, and how many cold or unkind words +she had to bear from Rosy, not to speak of Nelson's sharp and almost +rude manner; for, though Rosy was not cunning, Nelson was so, and she +managed to make it seem always as if Bee, and not Rosy, was in fault. + +"Where is Bee?" said Mrs. Vincent one afternoon when she went into the +nursery, where, at this time of day, Nelson was now generally to be +found. + +"I don't know, mamma," said Rosy. Then, without saying any more about +Bee, she went on eagerly, "Do look, mamma, at the lovely opera-cloak +Nelson has made for my doll? It isn't _quite_ ready--there's a +little white fluff----" + +"Swansdown, Miss Rosy, darling," said Nelson. + +"Well, swansdown then--it doesn't matter--mamma knows," said Rosy +sharply, "there's white stuff to go round the neck. Won't it be +lovely, mother?" + +She looked up with her pretty face all flushed with pleasure, for +nobody could be prettier than Rosy when she was pleased. + +"Yes dear, _very_ pretty," said her mother. It was impossible to +deny that Nelson was very kind and patient, and Mrs. Vincent would +have felt really pleased if only she had not feared that Nelson did +Rosy harm by her spoiling and flattery. "But where can Bee be?" she +said again. "Does she not care about dolls too?" + +"She used to," said Rosy. "But Bee is very fond of being alone now, +mamma. And I don't care for her when she looks so gloomy." + +"But what makes her so?" said Mrs. Vincent. "Are you quite kind to +her, Rosy?" + +"Oh indeed, yes, ma'am," interrupted Nelson, without giving Rosy time +to answer. "Of that you may be very sure. Indeed many's the time I say +to myself Miss Rosy's patience is quite wonderful. Such a free, +outspoken young lady as she is, and Miss Bee _so_ different. I +don't like them secrety sort of children, and Miss Rosy feels it +too--she--" + +"Nelson, I didn't ask for your opinion of little Miss Warwick," said +Mrs. Vincent, very coldly. "I know you are very kind to Rosy. But I +cannot have any interference when I find fault with her." + +Nelson looked very indignant, but Mrs. Vincent's manner had something +in it which prevented her answering in any rude way. + +"I'm sure I meant no offence," she said sourly, but that was all. + +Beata was alone in the schoolroom, writing, or trying to write, to her +mother. Her letters, which used to be such a pleasure, had grown +difficult. + +"Mamma said I was to write everything to her," she said to herself, +"but I _can't_ write to tell her I'm not happy. I wonder if it's +any way my fault." + +Just then the door opened and Mrs. Vincent looked in. + +"All alone, Bee," she said. "Would it not be more cheerful in the +nursery with Rosy? You have no lessons to do now? + +"No" said Bee, "I was beginning a letter to mamma. But it isn't to go +just yet." + +"Well, dear, go and play with Rosy. I don't like to see you moping +alone. You must be my bright little Bee--you wouldn't like any one to +think you are not happy with us?" + +"Oh no," said Bee. But there was little brightness in her tone, and +Mrs. Vincent felt half provoked with her. + +"She has not really anything to complain of," + +she said to herself, "and she cannot expect me to speak to her against +Aunt Edith and Nelson. She should make the best of it for the time." + +As Bee was leaving the schoolroom Mrs. Vincent called her back. + +"Will you tell Rosy to bring me her Venetian necklace to the +drawing-room?" she said; "I want it for a few minutes." She did not +tell Beata why she wanted it. It was because she had had a letter that +morning from Mr. Furnivale asking her to tell him how many beads there +were on Rosy's necklace and their size, as he had found a shop where +there were two or three for sale, and he wanted to get one as nearly +as possible the same for Beata. + +Beata went slowly to the nursery. She would much rather have stayed in +the schoolroom, lonely and dull though it was. When she got to the +nursery she gave Rosy her mother's message, and asked her kindly if +she might bring her dolls so that they could play with them together. + +"I shan't get no work done," said Nelson crossly, "if there's going to +be such a litter about." + +"I'm going to take my necklace to mamma," said Rosy. "You may play +with my doll till I come back, Bee." + +She ran off, and Bee sat down quietly as far away from Nelson as she +could. Five or ten minutes passed, and then the door suddenly opened +and Rosy burst in with a very red face. + +"Bee, Nelson," she exclaimed, "my necklace is _gone_. It is +indeed. I've hunted _everywhere_. And somebody must have taken +it, for I always put it in the same place, in its own little box. You +know I do--don't I, Bee?" + +Bee seemed hardly able to answer. Her face looked quite pale with +distress. + +"Your necklace gone, Rosy," she repeated. Nelson said nothing. + +"Yes, _gone,_ I tell you," said Rosy. "And I believe it's stolen. +It couldn't go of itself, and I _never_ left it about. I haven't +had it on for a good while. You know that time I slept in your room, +Bee, while Fixie was ill, I got out of the way of wearing it. But I +always knew where it was, in its own little box in the far-back corner +of the drawer where I keep my best ribbons and jewelry." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I know. It was there the day I had it out to amuse +Fixie." + +Rosy turned sharply upon her. + +"Did you put it back that day, Bee?" she said, "I don't believe I've +looked at it since. Answer, _did_ you put it back?" + +"Yes," said Bee earnestly, "yes, indeed; _indeed_ I did. O Rosy, +don't get like that," she entreated, clasping her hands, for Rosy's +face was growing redder and redder, and her eyes were flashing. "O +Rosy, _don't_ get into a temper with me about it. I did, _did_ +put it back." + +But it is doubtful if Rosy would have listened to her. She was fast +working herself up to believe that Bee had lost the necklace the day +she had had it out for Pixie, and she was so distressed at the loss +that she was quite ready to get into a temper with _somebody_ +--when, to both the children's surprise, Nelson's voice interrupted +what Rosy was going to say. + +"Miss Warwick," she said, with rather a mocking tone--she had made a +point of calling Bee "Miss Warwick" since the day Mrs. Vincent had +spoken of the little girl by that name--"Miss Warwick did put it back +that day, Miss Rosy dear," she said. "For I saw it late that evening +when I was putting your things away to help Martha as Master Fixie was +ill." She did not explain that she had made a point of looking for the +necklace in hopes of finding Bee had _not_ put it back, for you +may remember she had been cross and rude to Bee about finding her in +Rosy's room. + +"Well, then, where has it gone? Come with me, Bee, and look for it," +said Rosy, rather softening down,--"though I'm _sure_ I've looked +everywhere." + +"I don't think it's any use your taking Miss Warwick to look for it," +said Nelson, getting up and laying aside her work. "I'll go with you, +Miss Rosy, and if it's in your room I'll undertake to find it. And +just you stay quietly here, Miss Bee. Too many cooks spoil the broth." + +So Bee was left alone again, alone, and even more unhappy than before, +for she was _very_ sorry about Rosy's necklace, and besides, she +had a miserable feeling that if it was never found she would somehow +be blamed for its loss. A quarter of an hour passed, then half an +hour, what could Rosy and Nelson be doing all this time? The door +opened and Bee sprang up. + +"Have you found it, Rosy?" she cried eagerly. + +But it was not Rosy, though she was following behind. The first person +that came in was Mrs. Vincent. She looked grave and troubled. + +"Beata," she said, "you have heard about Rosy's necklace. Tell me all +about the last time you saw it." + +"It was when Rosy let Fixie have it to play with," began Bee, and she +told all she remembered. + +"And you are sure--_quite_ sure--you never have seen it since?" + +"_Quite_ sure," said Bee. "I never touch Rosy's things without +her leave." + +Nelson gave a sort of cough. Bee turned round on her. "If you've +anything to say you'd better say it now, before Mrs. Vincent," said +Bee, in a tone that, coming from the gentle kindly little girl, +surprised every one. + +"Bee!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, "What do you mean? Nelson has said +_nothing_ about you." This was quite true. Nelson was too clever +to say anything right out. She had only hinted and looked wise about +the necklace to Rosy, giving her a feeling that Bee was more likely to +have touched it than any one else. + +Bee was going to speak, but Rosy's mother stopped her. "You have told +us all you know," she said. "I don't want to hear any more. But I am +surprised at you, Bee, for losing your temper about being simply asked +if you had seen the necklace. You might have forgotten at first if you +had had it again for Fixie, and you _might_ the second time have +forgotten to put it back. But there is nothing to be offended at, in +being asked about it." + +She spoke coldly, and Bee's heart swelled more and more, but she dared +not speak. + +"There is nothing to do," said Mrs. Vincent, "that I can see, except +to find out if Fixie could have taken it. I will write to Martha at +once and tell her to ask him, and to let us know by return of post." + +The letter was written and sent. No one waited for the answer more +anxiously than Beata. It came by return of post, as Mrs. Vincent had +said. But it brought only disappointment. "Master Fixie," Martha +wrote, "knew nothing of Miss Rosy's necklace." He could not remember +having had it to play with at all, and he seemed to get so worried +when she kept on asking about it, that Martha thought it better to say +no more, for it was plain he had nothing to tell. + +"It is very strange he cannot remember playing with it that +afternoon," said Mrs. Vincent. "He generally has such a good memory. +You are sure you _did_ give it to him to play with, Bee?" + +"We played with it together. I told him stories about each bead," the +little girl replied. And her voice trembled as if she were going to +burst into tears. + +"Then his illness since must have made him forget it," said Mrs. +Vincent. But that was all she said. She did not call Bee to her and +tell her not to feel unhappy about it--that she knew she could trust +every word she said, as she once would have done. But she did give +very strict orders that nothing more was to be said about the +necklace, for though Nelson had not dared to hint anything unkind +about Bee to Mrs. Vincent herself, yet Rosy's mother felt sure that +Nelson blamed Bee for the loss, and wished others to do so, and she +was afraid of what might be said in the nursery if the subject was +still spoken about. + +So nothing unkind was actually said to Beata, but Rosy's cold manner +and careless looks were hard to bear. + +And the days were drawing near for the long looked forward to fete at +Summerlands. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A PARCEL AND A FRIGHT. + + + "She ran with wild speed, she rushed in at the door, + She gazed in her terror around." +--SOUTHEY. + +But Beata could not look forward to it now. The pleasure seemed to +have gone out of everything. + +"Nobody loves me now, and nobody trusts me," she said sadly to +herself. "And I don't know why it is. I can't think of anything I have +done to change them all." + +Her letter to her mother was already written and sent before the +answer came from Martha. Bee had hurried it a little at the end +because she wanted to have an excuse to herself for not telling her +mother how unhappy she was about the loss of the necklace. + +"If an answer comes from Martha that Fixie had taken it away or put it +somewhere, it will be all right again and I shall be quite happy, and +then it would have been a pity to write unhappily to poor mother, so +far away," she said to herself. And when Martha's letter came and all +was not right again, she felt glad that she could not write for +another fortnight, and that perhaps by that time she would know better +what to say, or that "somehow" things would have grown happier again. +For she had promised, "faithfully" promised her mother to tell her +truly all that happened, and that if by any chance she was unhappy +about anything that she could not speak easily about to Mrs. +Vincent,--though Bee's mother had little thought such a thing +likely,--she would still write all about it to her own mother. + +But a week had already passed since that letter was sent. It was +growing time to begin to think about another. And no "somehow" had +come to put things right again. Bee sat at the schoolroom window one +day after Miss Pink had left, looking out on to the garden, where the +borders were bright with the early summer flowers, and everything +seemed sunny and happy. + +"I wish I was happy too," thought Bee. And she gently stroked +Manchon's soft coat, and wondered why the birds outside and the cat +inside seemed to have all they wanted, when a little girl like her +felt so sad and lonely. Manchon had grown fond of Bee. She was gentle +and quiet, and that was what he liked, for he was no longer so young +as he had been. And Rosy's pullings and pushings, when she was not in +a good humour and fancied he was in her way, tried his nerves very +much. + +"Manchon," said Bee softly, "you look very wise. Why can't you tell me +where Rosy's necklace is?" + +Manchon blinked his eyes and purred. But, alas, that was all he could +do. + +Just then the door opened and Rosy came in. She was dressed for going +out. She had her best hat and dress on, and she looked very well +pleased with herself. + +"I'm going out a drive with auntie," she said. "And mamma says you're +to be ready to go a walk with her in half an hour." + +She was leaving the room, when a sudden feeling made Bee call her +back. + +"Rosy," she said, "do stay a minute. Rosy, I am so unhappy. I've been +thinking if I can't write a letter to ask mother to take me away from +here. I would, only it would make her so unhappy." + +Rosy looked a little startled. + +"Why would you do that?" she said. "I'm sure I've not done anything to +you." + +"But you don't love me any more," said Bee. "You began to leave off +loving me when your aunt and Nelson came,--I know you did,--and then +since the necklace was lost it's been worse. What can I do, Rosy, what +can I say?" + +"You might own that you've lost it--at least that you forgot to put it +back," said Rosy. + +"But I _did_ put it back. Even Nelson says that," said Bee. "I +can't say I didn't when I know I did," she added piteously. + +"But Nelson thinks you took it another time, and forgot to put it +back. And I think so too," said Rosy. To do her justice, she never, +like Nelson, thought that Bee had taken the necklace on purpose. She +did not even understand that Nelson thought so. + +"Rosy," said Bee very earnestly, "I did _not_ take it another +time. I have never seen it since that afternoon when Fixie had had it +and I put it back. Rosy, _don't_ you believe me?" + +Rosy gave herself an impatient shake. + +"I don't know," she said. "You might have forgotten. Anyway it was you +that had it last, and I wish I'd never given you leave to have it; I'm +sure it wouldn't have been lost." + +Bee turned away and burst into tears. + +"I _will_ write to mamma and ask her to take me away," she said. + +Again Rosy looked startled. + +"If you do that," she said, "it will be very unkind to _my_ +mamma. Yours will think we have all been unkind to you, and then +she'll write letters to my mamma that will vex her very much. And I'm +sure _mamma's_ never been unkind to you. I don't mind if you say +_I'm_ unkind; perhaps I am, because I'm very vexed about my +necklace. I shall get naughty now it's lost--I know I shall," and so +saying, Rosy ran off. + +Bee left off crying. It was true what Rosy had said. It _would_ +make Mrs. Vincent unhappy and cause great trouble if she asked her +mother to take her away. A new and braver spirit woke in the little +girl. + +"I won't be unhappy any more," she resolved. "I know I didn't touch +the necklace, and so I needn't be unhappy. And then I needn't write +anything to trouble mother, for if I get happy again it will be all +right." + +Her eyes were still rather red, but her face was brighter than it had +been for some time when she came into the drawing-room, ready dressed +for her walk. + +"Is that you, Bee dear?" said Mrs. Vincent kindly. She too was ready +dressed, but she was just finishing the address on a letter. "Why, you +are looking quite bright again, my child!" she went on when she looked +up at the little figure waiting patiently beside her. + +"I'm very glad to go out with you," said Bee simply. + +"And I'm very glad to have you," said Mrs. Vincent. + +"Aunt Lillias," said Bee, her voice trembling a little, "may I ask you +one thing? _You_ don't think I touched Rosy's necklace?" + +Mrs. Vincent smiled. + +"_Certainly_ not, dear," she said. "I did at first think you +might have forgotten to put it back that day. But after your telling +me so distinctly that you _had_ put it back, I felt quite +satisfied that you had done so." + +"But," said Bee, and then she hesitated. + +"But what?" said Mrs. Vincent, smiling. + +"I don't think--I _didn't_ think," Bee went on, gaining courage, +"that you had been quite the same to me since then." + +"And you have been fancying all kinds of reasons for it, I suppose!" +said Mrs. Vincent. "Well, Bee, the only thing I have been not quite +pleased with you for _has_ been your looking so unhappy. I was +surprised at your seeming so hurt and vexed at my asking you about the +necklace, and since then you have looked so miserable that I had begun +seriously to think it might be better for you not to stay with us. If +Rosy or any one else has disobeyed me, and gone on talking about the +necklace, it is very wrong, but even then I wonder at your allowing +foolish words to make you so unhappy. _Has_ any one spoken so as +to hurt you?" + +"No," said Bee, "not exactly, but--" + +"But you have seen that there were unkind thoughts about you. Well, I +am very sorry for it, but at present I can do no more. You are old +enough and sensible enough to see that several things have not been as +I like or wish lately. But it is often so in this world. I was very +sorry for Martha to have to go away, but it could not be helped, Now, +Bee, think it over. Would you rather go away, for a time any way, or +will you bravely determine not to mind what you know you don't +deserve, knowing that _I_ trust you fully?" + +"Yes," said Bee at once, "I will not mind it any more. And Rosy +perhaps," here her voice faltered, "Rosy perhaps will like me better +if I don't seem so dull." + +Mrs. Vincent looked grave when Bee spoke of Rosy, so grave that Bee +almost wished she had not said it. + +"It is very hard," she heard Rosy's mother say, as if speaking to +herself, "just when I thought I had gained a better influence over +her. _Very_ hard." + +Bee threw her arms round Mrs. Vincent's neck. + +"Dear auntie," she said, "_don't_ be unhappy about Rosy. I will +be patient, and I know it will come right again, and I won't be +unhappy any more." + +Mrs. Vincent kissed her. + +"Yes, dear Bee," she said, "we must both be patient and hopeful." + +And then they went out, and during the walk Beata noticed that Mrs. +Vincent talked about other things--old times in India that Bee could +remember, and plans for the future when her father and mother should +come home again to stay. Only just as they were entering the house on +their return, Bee could not help saying, + +"Aunt Lillias, I _wonder_ if the necklace will never be found." + +"So do I," said Mrs. Vincent. "I really cannot understand where it can +have gone. We have searched so thoroughly that even if Fixie +_had_ put it somewhere we would have found it. And, if possibly, +he had taken it away with him by mistake, Martha would have seen it." + +But that was all that was said. + +A day or two later Rosy came flying into the schoolroom in great +excitement. Miss Pinkerton was there at the time, for it was the +middle of morning lessons, and she had sent Rosy upstairs to fetch a +book she had left in the nursery by mistake. "Miss Pink, Bee!" she +continued, "our dresses have come from London. I'm sure it must be +them. Just as I passed the backstair door I heard James calling to +somebody about a case that was to be taken upstairs, and I peeped over +the banisters, and there was a large white wood box, and I saw the +carter's man standing waiting to be paid. Do let me go and ask about +them, Miss Pink." + +"No, Rosy, not just now," said Miss Pink. She spoke more firmly than +she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was +beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it +to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down +to her lessons. + +"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you +had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem +better than any one else." + +"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the +dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this +afternoon." + +Rosy looked at her with surprise. Lately Beata had never answered her +cross speeches like this, but had looked either ready to cry, or had +told her she was very unkind or very naughty, which had not mended +matters! + +Rosy was right. The white wood box did contain the dresses, and though +Mrs. Vincent was busy that day, as she and Aunt Edith were going a +long drive to spend the afternoon and evening with friends at some +distance, she understood the little girls' eagerness to see them, and +had the box undone and the costumes fully exhibited to please them. +They were certainly very pretty, for though the material they were +made of was only cotton, they had been copied exactly from an old +picture Lady Esther had sent on purpose. The only difference between +them was that one of the quilted under skirts was sky blue to suit +Rosy's bright complexion and fair hair, and the other was a very +pretty shade of rose colour, which, went better with Bee's dark hair +and paler face. + +The children stood entranced, admiring them. + +"Now, dears, I must put them away," said Mrs. Vincent. "It is really +time for me to get ready." + +"O mamma!" exclaimed Rosy, "do leave them out for us to try on. I can +tell Nelson to take them to my room." + +"No, Rosy," said her mother decidedly. "You must wait to try them on +till to-morrow. I want to see them on myself. Besides, they are very +delicate in colour, and would be easily soiled. You must be satisfied +with what you have seen of them for to-day. Now run and get ready. It +is already half-past three." + +For it had been arranged that Rosy and Bee, with Nelson to take care +of them, were to drive part of the way with Mrs. Vincent and her +sister-in-law, and to walk back, as it was a very pretty country road. + +Rosy went off to get ready, shaking herself in the way she often did +when she was vexed; and while she was dressing she recounted her +grievances to Nelson. + +"Never mind, Miss Rosy," said that foolish person, "we'll perhaps have +a quiet look at your dress this evening when we're all alone. There's +no need to say anything about it to Miss Bee." + +"But mamma said we were not to try them on till to-morrow," said Rosy. + +"No, not to try them on by yourselves, very likely you would get them +soiled. But we'll see." + +It was pretty late when the children came home. They had gone rather +farther than Mrs. Vincent had intended, and coming home they had made +the way longer by passing through a wood which had tempted them at the +side of the road. They were a little tired and very hungry, and till +they had had their tea Rosy was too hungry to think of anything else. +But tea over, Bee sat down to amuse herself with a book till bed-time, +and Rosy wandered about, not inclined to read, or, indeed, to do +anything. Suddenly the thought of the fancy dresses returned to her +mind. She ran out of the nursery, and made her way to her aunt's room, +where Nelson was generally to be found. She was not there, however. +Rosy ran down the passages at that part of the house where the +servants' rooms were, to look for her, though she knew that her mother +did not like her to do so. + +"Nelson, Nelson," she cried. + +Nelson's head was poked out of her room. + +"What is it, Miss Rosy? It's not your bed-time yet." + +"No, but I want to look at my dress again. You promised I should." + +"Well, just wait five minutes. I'm just finishing a letter that one of +the men's going to post for me. I'll come to your room, Miss Rosy, and +bring a light. It's getting too dark to see." + +"Be quick then," said Rosy, imperiously. + +She went back to her room, but soon got tired of waiting there. She +did not want to go to the nursery, for Bee was there, and would begin +asking her what she was doing. + +"I'll go to mamma's room," she said to herself, "and just look about +to see where she has put the frocks. I'm _almost_ sure she'll +have hung them up in her little wardrobe, where she keeps new things +often." + +No sooner said than done. Off ran Rosy to her mother's room. It was +getting dusk, dark almost, any way too dark to see clearly. Rosy +fumbled about on the mantelpiece till she found the match-box, and +though she was generally too frightened of burning her fingers to +strike a light herself, this time she managed to do so. There were +candles on the dressing-table, and when she had lighted them she +proceeded to search. It was not difficult to find what she wanted. The +costumes were hanging up in the little wardrobe, as she expected, but +too high for her to reach easily. Rosy went to the door, and a little +way down the passage, and called Nelson. But no one answered, and it +was a good way off to Nelson's room. + +"Nasty, selfish thing," said Rosy; "she's just going on writing to +tease me." + +But she was too impatient, to go back to her own room and wait there. +With the help of a chair she got down the frocks. Bee's came first, of +course, because it wasn't wanted--Rosy flung it across the back of a +chair, and proceeded to examine her own more closely than she had been +able to do before. It _was_ pretty! And so complete--there was +even the little white mob-cap with blue ribbons, and a pair of blue +shoes with high, though not very high, heels! These last she found +lying on the shelf, above the hanging part of the wardrobe. + +"It is _too_ pretty," said Rosy. "I _must_ try it on." + +And, quick as thought, she set to work--and nobody could be quicker or +cleverer than Rosy when she chose--taking off the dress she had on, +and rapidly attiring herself in the lovely costume. It all seemed to +fit beautifully,--true, the pale blue shoes looked rather odd beside +the sailor-blue stockings she was wearing, and she wondered what kind +of stockings her mother intended her to wear at Summerlands--and she +could not get the little lace kerchief arranged quite to her taste; +but the cap went on charmingly, and so did the long mittens, which +were beside the shoes. + +"There must be stockings too," thought Rosy, "for there seems to be +everything else; perhaps they are farther back in the shelf." + +[Illustration: BY STRETCHING A GOOD DEAL SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD REACH +THEM.] + +She climbed up on the chair again, but she could not see farther into +the shelf, so she got down and fetched one of the candles. Then up +again--yes--there were two little balls, a pink and a blue, farther +back-by stretching a good deal she thought she could reach them. Only +the candle was in the way, as she was holding it in one hand. She +stooped and set it down on the edge of the chair, and reached up +again, and had just managed to touch the little balls she could no +longer see, when--what was the matter? What was that rush of hot air +up her left leg and side? She looked down, and, in her fright, +fell--chair, Rosy, and candle, in a heap on the floor--for she had +seen that her skirts were on fire! and, as she fell, she uttered a +long piercing scream. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +GOOD OUT OF EVIL. + + + "Sweet are the uses of adversity."--SHAKESPEARE. + +A scream that would probably have reached the nursery, which was not +very far from Mrs. Vincent's room, had there been any one there to +hear it! But as it was, the person who had been there--little Bee--was +much nearer than the nursery at the time of Rosy's accident. The house +was very silent that evening, and Nelson had not thought of bringing a +light; so when it got too dark to read, even with the book pressed +close against the window-panes, Bee grew rather tired of waiting there +by herself, with nothing to do. + +"I wonder where Rosy is," she thought, opening the door, and looking +out along the dusky passages. + +And just then she heard Rosy's voice, at some little distance, +calling, "Nelson, Nelson." + +"If she is with Nelson I won't go," thought Bee. "I'll wait till she +comes back;" and she came into the empty nursery again, and wished +Martha was home. + +"She always makes the nursery so comfortable," thought Bee. Then it +struck her that perhaps it was not very kind of her not to go and see +what Rosy wanted--she had not heard any reply to Rosy's call for +Nelson. + +"Her voice sounded as if she was in Aunt Lillias's room," she said to +herself. "What can she be wanting? perhaps I'd better go and see." + +And she set off down the passage. The lamps were not yet lighted; +perhaps the servants were less careful than usual, knowing that the +ladies would not be home till late, but Bee knew her way about the +house quite well. She was close to the door of Mrs. Vincent's room, +and had already noticed that it stood slightly ajar, for a light was +streaming out, when--she stood for a second half-stupefied with +terror--what was it?--what could be the matter?--as Rosy's fearful +scream reached her ears. Half a second, and she had rushed into the +room--there lay a confused heap on the floor, for Rosy, in her fall, +had pulled over the chair; but the first glance showed Bee what was +wrong--Rosy was on fire! + +It was a good thing she had fallen, otherwise, in her wild fright, she +would probably have made things worse by rushing about; as it was, she +had not had time to get up before Bee was beside her, smothering her +down with some great heavy thing, and calling to her to keep still, to +"squeeze herself down," so as to put out the flames. The "great thing" +was the blankets and counterpane of the bed, which somehow Bee, small +as she was, had managed to tear off. And, frightened as Rosy was, the +danger was not, after all, so very great, for the quilted under skirt +was pretty thick, and her fall had already partly crushed down the +fire. It was all over more quickly than it has taken me to tell it, +and Rosy at last, half choked with the heavy blankets, and half soaked +with the water which Bee had poured over her to make sure, struggled +to her feet, safe and uninjured, only the pretty dress hopelessly +spoilt! + +And when all the danger was past, and there was nothing more to do, +Nelson appeared at the door, and rushed at her darling Miss Rosy, +screaming and crying, while Beata stood by, her handkerchief wrapped +round one of her hands, and nobody paying any attention to her. +Nelson's screams soon brought the other servants; among them, they got +the room cleared of the traces of the accident, and Rosy undressed and +put to bed. She was crying from the fright, but she had got no injury +at all; her tears, however, flowed on when she thought of what her +mother would have to be told, and Bee found it difficult to comfort +her. + +"You saved me, Bee, dear Bee," she said, clinging to her. "And it was +because I disobeyed mamma, and I might have been burnt to death. O +Bee, just think of it!" and she would not let Beata leave her. + +It was like this that Mrs. Vincent found them on her return late in +the evening. You can fancy how miserable it was for her to be met with +such a story, and to know that it was all Rosy's own fault. But it was +not all miserable, for never had she known her little girl so +completely sorry and ashamed, and so truly grateful to any one as she +was now feeling to Beata. + +And even Aunt Edith's prejudice seemed to have melted away, for she +kissed Bee as she said goodnight, and called her a brave, good child. + +So it was with a thankful little heart that Beata went to bed. Her +hand was sore--it had got badly scorched in pressing down the +blankets--but she did not think it bad enough to say anything about it +except to the cook, who was a kind old woman, and wrapped it up in +cotton wool, after well dredging it with flour, and making her promise +that if it hurt her in the night she would call her. + +It did not hurt her, and she slept soundly; but when she woke in the +morning her head ached, and she wished she could stay in bed! Rosy was +still sleeping--the housemaid, who came to draw the curtains, told +her--and she was not to be wakened. + +"After the fright she had, it is better to sleep it off," the servant +said, "though, for some things, it's to be hoped she won't forget it. +It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she +went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" + +"Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. +What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" + +"Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." + +"I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head +worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed. + +"Shall I tell any one that you're not well, Miss Bee?" asked Phoebe. + +"Oh no, thank you," said Bee, "I daresay it will get better when I'm +up." + +It did seem a little better, but she was looking pale when Mrs. +Vincent came to the nursery to see her and Rosy, who had wakened up, +none the worse for her fright, but anxious to do all she could for +poor Bee when she found out about her sore hand and headache, + +"Why did you not tell me about your hand last night, dear Bee?" Mrs. +Vincent asked. + +"It didn't hurt much. It doesn't hurt much now," said Bee, "and Fraser +looked at it and saw that it was not very bad, and--and--you had had +so many things to trouble you, Aunt Lillias," she added, +affectionately. + +"Yes, dear; but, when I think how much worse they might have been, I +dare not complain," Rosy's mother replied. + +Bee did not go to church that day. Her headache was not very bad, but +it did not seem to get well, and it was still rather bad when she woke +the next morning. + +And that next morning brought back to all their minds what, for the +moment, had been almost forgotten--that it was within three days of +the fete at Summerlands!--for there came a note from Lady Esther, +giving some particulars about the hour she hoped they would all come, +and rejoicing in the promise of fine weather for the children's treat. + +Rosy's mother read the note aloud. Then she looked at Aunt Edith, and +looked at the little girls. They were all together when the letter +came. + +"What is to be done?" said Miss Vincent; "I had really forgotten the +fête was to be on Wednesday. Is it impossible to have a new dress made +in time?" + +"Quite impossible," said Mrs. Vincent, "Rosy must cheerfully, or at +least patiently, bear what she has brought on herself, and be, as I am +sure she is, very thankful that it was no worse." + +Rosy glanced up quickly. She seemed as if she were going to say +something, and the look in her face was quite gentle. + +"I--I--I _will_ try to be good, mamma," she broke out at last. +"And I know I might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for +Bee. And--and--I hope Bee will enjoy the fête." + +But that was all she could manage. She hurried over the last words; +then, bursting into tears, she rushed out of the room. + +"Poor darling!" said Aunt Edith. "Lillias, are you sure we can do +nothing? Couldn't one of her white dresses be done up somehow?" + +"No," said Mrs. Vincent. "It would only draw attention to her if she +was to go dressed differently from the others, and I should not wish +that. Besides--oh no--it is much better not." + +She had hardly said the words when she felt something gently pulling +her, and, looking down, there was Bee beside her, trying to whisper +something. + +"Auntie," she said, "would you, oh! _would_ you let Rosy go +instead of me, wearing my dress? It would fit her almost as well as +her own. And, do you know, I _wouldn't_ care to go alone. It +wouldn't be _any_ happiness to me, and it would be such happiness +to know that Rosy could go. And I'm afraid I've got a little cold or +something, for I've still got a headache, and I'm not sure that it +will be better by Wednesday." + +She looked up entreatingly in Mrs. Vincent's face, and then Rosy's +mother noticed how pale and ill she seemed. + +"My dear little Bee," she said, "you must try to be better by +Wednesday. And, you know, dear, though we are all very sorry for Rosy, +it is only what she has brought on herself. I hope she has learnt a +lesson--more than one lesson--but, if she were to have the pleasure of +going to Summerlands, she might not remember it so well." + +Beata said no more--she could not oppose Rosy's mother--but she shook +her head a little sadly. + +"I don't think Rosy's like that, Aunt Lillias," she said; "I don't +think it would make her forget." + +Beata's headache was not better the next day; and, as the day went on, +it grew so much worse that Mrs. Vincent at last sent for the doctor. +He said that she was ill, much in the same way that Fixie had been. +Not that it was anything she could have caught from him--it was not +that kind of illness at all--but it was the first spring either of +them had been in England, and he thought that very likely the change +of climate had caused it with them both. He was not, he said, anxious +about Bee, but still he looked a little grave. She was not strong, and +she should not be overworked with lessons, or have anything to trouble +or distress her. + +"She has not been overworked," Mrs. Vincent said. + +"And she seems very sweet-tempered and gentle. A happy disposition, I +should think," said the doctor, as he hastened away. + +His words made Mrs. Vincent feel rather sad. It was true--Bee had a +happy disposition--she had never, till lately, seen her anything but +bright and cheery. + +"My poor little Bee," she thought, "I was hard upon her. I did not +quite understand her. In my anxiety about Rosy when her aunt and +Nelson came I fear I forgot Bee. But I do trust all that is over, and +that Rosy has truly learnt a lesson. And we must all join to make +little Bee happy again." + +She returned to Bee's room. The child was sitting up in bed, her eyes +sparkling in her white face--she was very eager about something. + +"Auntie," she said, "you see I cannot possibly go to-morrow. And you +must go, for poor Lady Esther is counting on you to help her. Auntie, +you _will_ forgive poor Rosy now _quite_, won't you, and let +her go in my dress?" + +The pleading eyes, the white face, the little hot hands laid coaxingly +on hers--it would not have been easy to refuse! Besides, the doctor +had said she was neither to be excited nor distressed. + +The tears were in Mrs. Vincent's eyes as she bent down to kiss the +little girl, but she did not let her see them. + +"I will speak to Rosy, dear," she said. "I will tell her how much you +want her to go in your place; and I think perhaps you are right--I +don't think it will make her forget." + +"_Thank_ you, dear auntie," said Bee, as fervently as if Mrs. +Vincent had promised her the most delightful treat in the world. + +That afternoon Bee fell asleep, and slept quietly and peacefully for +some time. When she woke she felt better, and she lay still, thinking +it was nice and comfortable to be in bed when one felt tired, as she +had always done lately; then her eyes wandered round her little room, +and she thought how neat and pretty it looked, how pleased her mother +would be to see how nice she had everything; and, just as she was +thinking this, her glance fell on a little table beside her bed, which +had been placed there with a little lemonade and a few grapes. There +was something there that had not been on the table before she went to +sleep. In a delicate little glass, thin and clear as a soap-bubble, +was the most lovely rose Bee had ever seen--rich, soft, _rose_ +colour, glowing almost crimson in the centre, and melting into a +somewhat paler shade at the edge. + +[Illustration: 'IT'S A ROSE FROM ROSY.'] + +"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Bee, "I wonder who put you there. I would +like to scent you"--Bee, like other children I know, always talked of +"scenting" flowers; she said "smell" was not a pretty enough word for +such pretty things--"but I am afraid of knocking over that lovely +glass. It must be one of Aunt Lillias's that she has lent." + +A little soft laugh came from the side of her bed, and, leaning over, +Bee caught sight of a tangle of bright hair. It was Rosy. She had been +watching there for Bee to wake. Up she jumped, and, carefully lifting +the glass, held it close to Bee. + +"It isn't mother's glass," she said; "it's your own. It _was/_ +mother's, but I've bought it for you. Mother let me, because I +_did_ so want to do something to please you; and she let me +choose the beautifullest rose for you, Bee. I am so glad you like it; +It's a rose from Rosy. I've been sitting by you such a time. And +though I'm so pleased you like the rose, I _have_ been crying a +little, Bee, truly, because you are so good, and about my going +to-morrow." + +"You _are_ going?" said Bee, anxiously. In Rosy's changed way of +thinking she became suddenly afraid that she might not wish to go. + +"Yes," said Rosy, rather gravely, "I am going. Mother is quite pleased +for me to go, to please you. In one way I would rather not go, for I +know I don't deserve it; and I can't help thinking you wouldn't have +been ill if I hadn't done that, and made you have a fright. And it +seems such a shame for me to wear _your_ dress, when you've been +quite good and _deserve_ the pleasure, and just when I've got to +see how kind you are, and we'd have been so happy to go together. And +then I've a feeling, Bee, that I _shall_ enjoy it when I get +there, and perhaps I shall forget a little about you, and it will be +so horrid of me, if I do--and that makes me, wish I wasn't going." + +"But I want you to enjoy it," said Bee, simply, in her little weak +voice. "It wouldn't be nice of me to want you to go if I thought you +wouldn't enjoy it. And it's nice of you to tell me how you feel. But I +would like you to think of me _this_ way--every time you are +having a very nice dance, or that any one says you look so nice, just +think, "I wish Bee could see me," or "How nice it will be to tell Bee +about it," and, that way, the more you enjoy it the more you'll think +of me." + +"Yes," said Rosy, "that's putting it a very nice way; or, Bee, if +there are very nice things to eat, I might think of you another way. I +might, perhaps, bring you back some nice biscuits or bonbons--any kind +that wouldn't squash in my pocket, you know. I might ask mamma to ask +Lady Esther." + +"Yes," said Bee, "I'm not very hungry, but just a few very nice, +rather dry ones, you know, I would like." "I could keep them for Fixie +when he comes back," was the thought in her mind. + +She had not heard anything about when Fixie and Martha were coming +back, but she was to have a pleasant surprise the next day. It was a +little lonely; for, though Rosy meant to be very, very kind, she was +rather too much of a chatterbox not to tire Bee after a while. + +"Mamma said I wasn't to stay very long," she said; "but don't you mind +being alone so much?" + +"No, I don't think so," said Bee, "and, you know, Phoebe is in the +next room if I want her." + +"I know what you'd like," said Rosy, and off she flew. In two minutes +she was back again with something in her arms. It was Manchon! She +laid him gently down at the foot of Bee's bed. "He's so 'squisitely +clean, you know," she went on, "and I know you're fond of him." + +"_Very_" said Bee, with great satisfaction. + +"I like him better than I did," said Rosy, "but still I think he's a +sort of a fairy. Why, it shows he is, for now that I'm so good--I mean +now that I'm going to be good always--he seems to like me ever so much +better. He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said +'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon,' he let me take him as good +as good." + +But that evening brought still better company for Bee. + +She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the +morning who do you think was standing beside her? Dear little Fixie, +his white face ever so much rounder and rosier, and kind Martha, both +smiling with pleasure at seeing her again, though feeling sorry, too, +that she was ill. + +"Zou'll soon be better, Bee, and Fixie will be so good to you, and +then p'raps we'll go again to that nice place where we've been, for +you to get kite well." + +So Bee, after all, did not feel at all dull or lonely when Rosy came +in to say good-bye, in Bee's pretty dress. And Mrs. Vincent, and even +Miss Vincent, kissed her so kindly! Even Nelson, I forgot to say, had +put her head in at the door to ask how she was; and when Bee answered +her nicely, as she always did, she came in for a moment to tell her +how sorry she was Bee could not go to the fete. "For I must say, Miss +Bee," she added, "I must say as I think you've acted very pretty, very +pretty, indeed, about lending your dress to dear Miss Rosy, bless her." + +"And, if there's anything I can do for you--" Here Bee's breakfast +coming in interrupted her, which Bee, on the whole, was not sorry for. + +She did not see Rosy that evening, for it was late when they came +home, and she was already asleep. But the next morning Bee woke much +better, and quite able to listen to Rosy's account of it all. She had +enjoyed it very much--of course not _as_ much as if Bee had been +there too, she said; but Lady Esther had thought it so sweet of Bee to +beg for Rosy to go, and she had sent her the loveliest little basket +of bonbons, tied up with pink ribbons, that ever was seen, and still +better, she had told Rosy that she had serious thoughts of having a +large Christmas-tree party next winter, at which all the children +should be dressed out of the fairy tales. + +"Wouldn't it be lovely?" said Rosy. "We were thinking perhaps you +would be Red Riding Hood, and I the white cat. But we can look over +all the fairy tales and think about it when you're better, can't we, +Bee?" + +Beata got better much more quickly than Fixie had done. The first day +she was well enough to be up she begged leave to write two little +letters, one to her mother and one to Colin, who had been very kind; +for while she was ill he had written twice to her, which for a +schoolboy was a great deal, I think. His letters were meant to be very +amusing; but, as they were full of cricket and football, Bee did not +find them very easy to understand. She was sitting at the +nursery-table, thinking what she could say to show Colin she liked to +hear about his games, even though the names puzzled her a little, when +Fixie came and stood by her, looking rather melancholy. + +"What's the matter?" she said. + +"Zou's writing such a long time," said Fixie, "and Rosy's still at her +lessons. I zought when zou was better zou'd play wif me." + +"I can't play much," said Bee, "for I've still got a funny buzzy +feeling in my head, and I'm rather tired." + +"Yes, I know," said Fixie, with great sympathy, "mine head was like +fousands of trains when I was ill. We won't play, Bee, we'll only +talk." + +"Well, I'll just finish my letter," said Bee. "I'll just tell Colin he +must tell me all about innings and outings, and all that, when he +comes home. Yes--that'll do. "Your affectionate--t-i-o-n-a-t-e--Bee." +Now I'll talk to you, Fixie. What a pity we haven't got Rosy's beads +to tell stories about!" + +A queer look came into Fixie's face. + +"Rosy's beads," he said. + +"Yes, Rosy's necklace that was lost. And you didn't know where it was +gone when Martha asked you--when your mother wrote a letter about it." + +As she spoke, she drew their two little chairs to what had always been +their favourite corner, near a window, which was low enough for them +to look out into the pretty garden. + +"Don't sit there," said Fixie, "I don't like there." + +"Why not? Don't you remember we were sitting here the last afternoon +we were in the nursery--before you went away. You liked it then, when +I told you stories about the beads, before they were lost." + +"Before _zem_ was lost," said Fixie, his face again taking the +troubled, puzzled look; "I didn't know it was _zem_--I mean it +was somefin else of Rosy's that was lost--lace for her neck, that I'd +_never_ seen." + +Bee's heart began to beat faster with a strange hope. She had seen +Fixie's face looking troubled, and she remembered Martha saying how +her questioning about the necklace had upset him, and it seemed almost +cruel to go on talking about it. But a feeling had come over her that +there was something to find out, and now it grew stronger and +stronger. + +"Lace for Rosy's neck," she repeated, "no, Fixie, you must be +mistaken. Lace for her neck--" and then a sudden idea struck her,--"can +you mean a _necklace?_ Don't you know that a necklace means +beads?" + +Fixie stared at her for a moment, growing very red. Then the redness +finished up, like a thundercloud breaking into rain, by his bursting +into tears, and hiding his face in Bee's lap. + +"I didn't know, I didn't know," he cried, "I thought it was some lace +that Martha meant. I didn't mean to tell a' untrue, Bee. I didn't like +Martha asking me, 'cos it made me think of the beads I'd lost, and I +thought p'raps I'd get them up again when I came home, but I can't. +I've poked and poked, and I think the mouses have eatened zem." + +By degrees Bee found out what the poor little fellow meant. The +morning after the afternoon when Bee and he had had the necklace, and +Bee had put it safely back, he had, unknown to any one, fetched it +again for himself, and sat playing with it by the nursery-window, in +the corner where the hole in the floor was. Out of idleness, he had +amused himself by holding the string of beads at one end, and dropping +them down the mysterious hole, "like fishing," he said, till, +unluckily, he had dropped them in altogether; and there, no doubt, +they were still lying! He was frightened at what he had done, but he +meant to tell Bee, and ask her advice. But that very afternoon the +doctor came, and he was separated from the other children; and, while +he was ill, he seemed to have forgotten about it. When Martha +questioned him at the seaside, he had no idea she was speaking of the +beads; but he did not like her questions, because they made him +remember what he _had_ lost. And then he thought he would try to +get the beads out of the hole by poking with a stick when he came +home; but he had found he could not manage it, and then he had taken a +dislike to that part of the room. + +All this was told with many sobs and tears, but Bee soothed him as +well as she could; and when his mother soon after came to the nursery +and heard the story, she was very kind indeed, and made him see how +even little wrong-doings, like taking the beads to play with without +leave, always bring unhappiness; and still more, how wise and right it +is for children to tell at once when they have done wrong, instead of +trying to put the wrong right themselves. That was all she said, +except that, as she kissed her poor little boy, she told him to tell +no one else about it, except Martha, and that she would see what could +be done. + +Bee and Fixie said no more about it; but on that account, I daresay, +like the famous parrot, "they thought the more." And once or twice +that afternoon, Fixie _could_ not help whispering to Bee, +"_Do_ you fink mamma's going to get the beads hooked out?" or, "I +hope they won't hurt the mouses that lives down in the hole. _Do_ +you fink the mouses has eaten it, p'raps?" + +Beata was sent early to bed, as she was not yet, of course, counted as +quite well; and both she and Fixie slept very soundly--whether they +dreamt of Rosy's beads or not I cannot tell. + +But the next morning Bee felt so much better that she begged to get up +quite early. + +"Not till after you've had your breakfast, Miss Bee," said Martha. +"But Mrs. Vincent says you may get up as soon as you like after that, +and then you and Miss Rosy and Master Fixie are all to go to her room. +She has something to show you." + +Bee and Fixie looked at each other. They felt sure _they_ knew +what it was! But Rosy, who had also come to Bee's room to see how she +was, looked very mystified. + +"I wonder what it can be," she said. "Can it be a parcel come for us? +And oh, Martha, by-the-bye, what was that knocking in the nursery last +night after we were in bed? I heard Robert's voice, I'm sure. What was +he doing?" + +"He came up to nail down something that was loose," said Martha, +quietly; but that was all she would say. + +They all three marched off to Mrs. Vincent's room as soon as Beata was +up and dressed. She was waiting for them. + +"I am so glad you are so much better this morning, Bee," she said, as +she kissed them all; "and now" she went on, "look here, I have a +surprise for you all." She lifted a handkerchief which she had laid +over something on a little table; and the three children, as they +pressed forward, could hardly believe their eyes. For there lay Rosy's +necklace, as bright and pretty as ever, and there beside it lay +another, just like it at the first glance, though, when it was closely +examined, one could see that the patterns on the beads were different; +but any way it was just as pretty. + +"Two," exclaimed Fixie, "_two_ lace-beads, what _is_ the +name? Has the mouses made a new one for Bee, dear Bee?" + +"Yes, for dear Bee," said his mother, smiling, "it is for Bee, though +it didn't come from the mouses;" and then she explained to them how +"Mr. Furniture" had sent the second necklace for Bee, but that she had +thought it better to keep it a while in hopes of Rosy's being found, +as she knew that Bee's pleasure in the pretty beads would not have +been half so great if Rosy were without hers. + +How happy they all looked! + +"What lotses of fairy stories we can make now!" said Fixie--"one for +every bead-lace, Bee!" + +"And, mamma," said Rosy, "I'll keep on being very good now. I daresay +I'll be dreadfully good soon; and Bee will be always good too, now, +because you know we've got our talismans." + +Mrs. Vincent smiled, but she looked a little grave. + +"What is it, mamma?" said Rosy. "Should I say talis_men_, not +talismans?" + +Her mother smiled more this time. + +"No, it wasn't that. 'Talismans' is quite right. I was only thinking +that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your +head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any +little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your +own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can +really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes +from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't +you, Rosy?" + +Rosy got a little red, and looked rather grave. + +"I _nearly_ always remember to say my prayers," she answered. + +"Well, let the 'talisman' help you to remember, if ever you are +inclined to forget. And it isn't _only_ at getting-up time and +going-to-bed time that one may _pray_, as I have often told you, +dear children. I really think, Rosy," she went on more lightly, "that +it would be nice for you and Bee to wear your necklaces always. I +shall like to see them, and I believe it would be almost impossible to +spoil or break them." + +"Only for my fairy stories," said Fixie, "I should have to walk all +round Bee and Rosy to see the beads. You will let them take them off, +_sometimes_, won't you, mamma?" + +"Yes, my little man, provided you promise not to send them visits down +the 'mouses' holes,'" said his mother, laughing. + +This is all I can tell you for the present about Rosy and her brothers +and little Bee. There is more to tell, as you can easily fancy, for, +of course, Rosy did not grow "quite good" all of a sudden, though +there certainly was a great difference to be seen in her from the time +of her narrow escape--nor was Beata, in spite of _her_ talisman, +without faults and failings. Nor was either of them without sorrows +and disappointments and difficulties in their lives, bright and happy +though they were. If you have been pleased with what I have told you, +you must let me know, and I shall try to tell you some more. + +And again, dear children,--little friends, whom I love so much, though +I may never have seen your faces, and though you only know me as +somebody who is _very_ happy, when her little stories please +you--again, my darlings, I wish you the merriest of merry Christmases +for 1882, and every blessing in the new year that will soon be coming! + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSY *** + +This file should be named rsyml10.txt or rsyml10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rsyml11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rsyml10a.txt + +Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. +This file was produced from images generously made available by the CWRU +Preservation Department Digital Library + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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