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.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29