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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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?"
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.
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.
"As I say, I don't know how the succession runs in this particular instance. There are, as you are aware, several peeresses in their own rights twenty-four or five, at least. Some are very ancient peerages. I know that three Furnivale and Fauconberg and Conyers go right back to the thirteenth century; three others Beaumont, Darcy da Knayth, and Zorch of Haryngworth date from the fourteenth.
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