Rosy

“ 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?"
The red flush came back to Rosy's face, and her eyes grew bright; she was not a child that cried easily. She threw her arms round her mother's neck, and whispered in a voice which sounded as if tears were not very far off,
"Mamma, I do thank you. I will try. ”

“ I saw a door in the Tower and the stone steps, and the square space, and in the chill clear, early morning a little slender, helpless girl led out, a little, fair, real thing like Rosy, all alone—everyone she belonged to far away, not a man near who dared utter a word of pity when she turned her awful, meek, young, desperate eyes upon him. ”

“ She turned her eyes back to Rosy and the deep dimple near her mouth showed itself delightfully. “It is a throwing away of capital,” she added.
“Oh!” cried Lady Anstruthers, “how clever you are! And you look so different, Betty.”
“Do I look stupid?” the dimple deepening. “I must try to alter that.”
“Don't try to alter your looks,” said Rosy. “It is your looks that make you so—so wonderful. But usually women—girls——” Rosy paused.
“Oh, I have been trained,” laughed Betty. “I am the spoiled daughter of a business man of genius. His business is an art and a science. ”

“ She looked up at me with her big, yellowish eyes shining through the gray light, and if ever I was sorry for a woman it was for her. I wished that Rosy wasn't so down on her and I'd have taken her to our rooms and given her a good meal. ”

“ Rosy's mother felt very disappointed, but she saw it was better to say no more. She had told Colin about Beata coming, but not Felix, for as he knew and loved the little girl already, she was afraid that his delight might rouse Rosy's jealous feelings. For the prettiest thing in Rosy was her love for her little brother, only it was often spoilt by her exactingness. Fixie must love her as much or better than anybody—he must be all hers, or else she would not love him at all. ”

“ Rosy came back into the nursery with her eyes rather red, but the other children saw that she did not want any notice taken. She looked at Colin and Bee rather suspiciously. "Have you been talking about me?" her look seemed to say.
"I've been telling Bee about Miss Pink," said Colin. "She hadn't heard about her before."
"She's a stupid old thing," said Rosy respectfully.
"But she's kind, isn't she?" asked Beata.
"Oh yes; I daresay you'll think her kind. But I don't care for her—much. She's rather pretending."
"I can't understand why you think so many people pretending," said Bee. ”

“ She was sixteen. What is more wonderful than being sixteen? Besides, her mother had given her a new dress. It was real silk, the color of very old Italian wine, this dress was, and trimmed with such silk flowers as only the skillful fingers of Mother Ramacciotti could form.
There were other reasons for happiness. Rosy’s life had known misery and sadness. Now she had a home; very plain, it is true, but comfortable. She had friends. Were not Johnny and Drew her friends? Many more there were at the radio studio. ”

“ Then again, a nicer look came over her face and she murmured some words which her mother only caught two or three of.
"I didn't mean"—"sorry"—"crying," she said, and her mother turned away a little comforted.
"O Rosy, poor Rosy," she said to herself. "You do know what is right and sweet. When will you learn to keep down that unhappy temper?"
* * * * *
The next morning was bright and sunny, the garden with its beautiful trees and flowers, which Beata had only had a glimpse of the night before, looked perfectly delicious in the early light when she drew up the window-blind to look out. ”

“ But—one man may bring a horse to the water, but twenty can't make him drink, says the old proverb—Rosy made up her mind on the spot, at the very first instant, that she wouldn't like Beata, and that her coming was on purpose to vex her, Rosy, as it seemed to her that most things which she had to do with in the world were. And this was what had put her in such a temper the first time we saw her—when she would have liked to put out her vexation on Manchon even, if she had dared! ”

“ Vincent thought her queer and changeable, rude even, perhaps, though she only smiled at Beata's begging not to be praised, and Rosy, who had heard what she said, gave her no thanks for it, but the opposite.
"That's all pretence," thought Rosy. "Everybody likes to be praised."
Mrs. Vincent went downstairs, leaving the children together, and telling Rosy to help Beata to take off her things, as tea would soon be ready. Beata had a sort of fear of what next Rosy would say, and she was glad when Martha just then came into the room. ”

“ I daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a while here."
"Oh, I hope not," said Bee. "Do you really think I shall, Rosy?"
"I shall like you just as well if you do," said Rosy, "at least if you do a little. Anyway, it would be better than setting up to be better than other people, or pretending."
"But I don't want to do that," said Beata. "I want to be good. I don't want to think about being better or not better than other people, and I'm sure I don't want to pretend. I don't ever pretend like that, Rosy. Won't you believe me? ”

“ 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. ”

“ The little girl was growing a misery to herself, and a constant trouble to other people. And then happened what her mother had told her about, and what Rosy, in her selfishness and silliness, made a new trouble of, instead of a pleasure the more, in what should have been her happy life. I will soon tell you what it was.
Rosy lay on the floor crying for a good long while. Her fits of temper tired her out, though she was a very strong little girl. There is nothing more tiring than bad temper, and it is such a stupid kind of tiredness; nothing but a waste of time and strength. ”

“ You're always saying you're not good and you don't care. But I think you do care, only," with a sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot."
"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly.
"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. Do go on. It will get easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier for the next time." ”

“ And mother had never told him that loving other people too made his love for her less, as Rosy did! I think Rosy's first dislike to Beata had begun one day when Fixie, wanting to please her, and yet afraid to say what was not true, had spoken of Beata as one of the people Rosy must let him love, and it had vexed Rosy so that ever since he had been afraid to mention his little friend's name to her. ”

“ I was only thinking that perhaps it was not very wise of me to have put the idea into your head, Rosy dear, for I want you to learn and feel that, though any little outside help may be a good thing as a reminder, it is only your own self, your own heart, earnestly wishing to be good, that can really make you succeed; and you know where the earnest wishing comes from, and where you are always sure to get help if you ask it, don't you, Rosy? ”

“ She spoke more firmly than she used to do now, for I think she had learnt a lesson, and Rosy was beginning to understand that when Miss Pink said a thing she meant it to be done. Rosy muttered something in a grumbling tone, and sat down to her lessons.
"You are always so ill-natured," she half whispered to Bee. "If you had asked too she would have let us go, but you always want to seem better than any one else."
"No, I don't," said Bee, smiling. "I want dreadfully to see the dresses. We'll ask your mother to let us see them together this afternoon." ”

“ Everybody is a little pretty who is sweet and good, for though being sweet and good doesn't alter the colour of one's hair or the shape of one's nose, it does a great deal; it makes the cross lines smooth away, or, rather, prevents their coming, and it certainly gives the eyes a look that nothing else gives, does it not? But Rosy's face, alas! was very often spoilt by frowns, and dark looks often took away the prettiness of her eyes, and this was the more pity as the good fairies who had welcomed her at her birth had evidently meant her to be pretty. ”

“ ROSY.
"Rosy, like all the rest of her stories, is bright and pure and utterly free from cant,—a book that children will read with pleasure and lasting profit."—Boston Traveller.
"There is no one who has a genius better adapted for entertaining children than Mrs. Molesworth, and her latest story, Rosy, is one of her best. It is illustrated with eight woodcuts from designs by Walter Crane."—Philadelphia Press. ”

“ But Rosy was not to be found anywhere—her aunt had called her into the conservatory to help her with some flowers she was arranging there, and after searching for her sister everywhere she could think of, Paula had to go upstairs to dress, as the first gong sounded.
"As soon as I have done my hair, I'll run to Rosy's room," she thought to herself, but then another idea struck her, she would give Rosy [96] a pleasant surprise. "I'll put on the pink frock without telling her," she thought, "she will be pleased when she sees me with it on." ”

“ Rosy! I hope you never would, whatever comes or goes. You would always let me be your friend.'
'While some other woman had you? That's likely! Oh, you don't know what love is!'
'I don't,' I said, 'but you know quite well that I never would leave you, however much I loved any one else.'
'But I would leave you, if I thought you loved any one else.'
'But I wouldn't let you know.'
'But you couldn't help it.'
'But I never shall love any one.'
'How do you know that? I thought I never should love any one; but, you see, I do. ”

“ Rosy jumped up in a minute, crying out,—
"The cows! the cows! Shall we go and see them?"
"If you will make great haste," said the nurse; "but it is getting late."
Rosy never got dressed more [38] quickly. She did not much like even to wait for her morning splash; and while her curls were being combed, she kept saying, "Won't it do, nurse?" and then rather hindering by holding up her little face for a kiss.
As soon as she was quite ready she bustled off, and got down stairs first. Whom should she see there but papa himself, with his hat on? ”

“ 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." ”

“ Nelson will be only too delighted to have her again."
"Thank you," said Rosy's mother rather coldly. She knew Nelson would be only too glad to have the charge of Rosy, and to put into her head again a great many foolish thoughts and fancies which she had hoped Rosy was beginning to forget. "It will not be necessary to settle so much till we hear what the doctor says. Of course I would not leave Rosy with Fixie and Bee by herself. But for to-day they can stay in the schoolroom, and I will ask Miss Pinkerton to remain later." ”

“ Vincent. "Rosy is fast asleep. I have just been in to look at her. It is getting late for little girls to be awake."
"Yes, I know," said Bee. "But I often can't go to sleep so quick the first night—while everything is—different, you know—and new."
"And a little strange and lonely, as it were—just at first. Don't be afraid I would be vexed with you for feeling it so."
"But I don't think I do feel lonely," said Bee, sitting up and looking at Rosy's mother quite brightly. "It seems quite natural to be with you and Fixie again." ”

“ She thought I was quite good," and Rosy reared up her head as if she thought so too.
"I am very sorry to hear you speak so," said her mother. "I think if you ask yourself, Rosy, you will very often find that you are not good, and if you see and understand that when you are not good it is nobody's fault but your own, you will surely try to be better. You must not say it was your aunt's fault, or anybody's fault. Your aunt was only too kind to you, and I will never allow you to blame her."
"I wasn't good last night," said Rosy. "I doubled up my hand and I hit Colin, 'cos I got in a temper. ”

“ Now, see here, Rosy, I don't pretend to set myself up for a model in anything, and you may come down on my grammar, manners or morals as often as you think I'm wrong, and I'll thank you. I've been knocking about the world for years, and have got careless, but I want my girl to be what I call well-educated, even if she studies nothing but the three 'Rs' for a year to come. ”