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Molesworth, Mrs., 1839-1921

"Rosy"

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.


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