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Molesworth, Mrs., 1839-1921

"Rosy"


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.


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