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Updated: June 11, 2025
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
"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.
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.
"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.
This same James Furnivale Woolsen, being an ambitious person, was not to be so easily put down.
"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.
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