for once quite vexed with Colin. "I don't think that's a reason for doing wrong things--that other people do them.'"

"It's bad example--the force of bad example," said Colin so gravely that Beata, who was perhaps a little matter-of-fact, would have answered him gravely had she not seen a little twinkle in his eyes, which put her on her guard.

"You are trying to tease _me_ now, Colin," she said. "Well, I don't mind, if you'll promise me to leave Rosy alone--any way for a few days; I've a very particular reason for asking it. Do promise, won't you?"

She looked up at him with her little face glowing with eagerness, her honest gray eyes bright with kindly feeling for Rosy. "You may tease me"--she went on--"as much as you like, if you must tease somebody."

Colin could not help laughing.

"There wouldn't be much fun in teasing you, Bee," he said. "You're far too good-natured. Well, I will promise you--I'll promise you more than you ask--listen, what a grand promise--I'll promise you not to tease Rosy for three whole months--now, what do you say to that, ma'am?"

Bee's eyes glistened.

"Three whole months!" she exclaimed. "Yes, that is a good promise. Why, by the end of the three months you'll have forgotten how to tease! But, Colin, please, it must be a secret between you and me about you promising not to tease Rosy. If she knew I had asked you it wouldn't do half as well."

"Oh, it's easy enough to promise that," said Colin. "Poor Bee," he went on, half ashamed of having taken her in, "you don't understand why I promised for three months. It's because to-morrow I'm going back to school for three months."

"_Are_ you?" said Beata, in a disappointed tone. "I'm very sorry. I had forgotten about you going to school with your being here when I first came, you know."

"Yes; and your lessons--yours and Rosy's and Fixie's, for he does a little too--they'll be beginning again soon. We've all been having holidays just now."

"And who will give us lessons?" asked Beata.

"Oh, Miss Pink, Rosy's governess. Her real name's Miss Pinkerton, but it's so long, she doesn't mind us saying Miss Pink, for short."

"Is she nice?" asked Bee. She felt a little dull at the idea of having still another stranger to make friends with.

"Oh yes, she's nice. Only she spoils Rosy--she's afraid of her tempers. You'll see. But you'll get on all right. I really think Rosy is going to be nicer, now you've come, Bee."

"I'm so glad," said Bee. "But I'm sorry you're going away, Colin. In three months you'll have forgotten how to tease, won't you?" she said again, smiling.

"I'm not so sure of that," he answered laughingly. In her heart Bee thought perhaps it was a good thing Colin was going away for a while, for Rosy's sake. It might make it easier for her to carry out her good plans. But for herself Bee was sorry, for he was a kind, merry boy, and even his teasing did not seem to her anything very bad.

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. "I think it must be very uncomfortable to feel like that."

"But if they _are_ pretending, it's best to know it," said Rosy.

Beata felt herself getting puzzled again. Colin came to the rescue.

"I don't think it is best to know it," he said, "at least not Rosy's way, for she thinks it of everybody."

"No, I don't," said Rosy, "not _everybody_."

"Well, you think it of great lots, any way. I'd rather think some people good who aren't good than think some people who _are_ good _not_ good--wouldn't you, Bee?"

Beata had to consider a moment in order to understand quite what Colin meant; she liked to understand things clearly, but she was not always very quick at doing so.

"Yes," she said, "I think so too. Besides, there _are_ lots of very kind and good people in the world--really kind and good, not pretending a bit. And then, too, mother used to tell me that feeling kind ourselves made others feel kind to us, without their quite knowing how sometimes."

Rosy listened, though she said nothing; but when she kissed Beata in saying good-night, she whispered, "I did go on trying, Bee, and I think it does get a very little easier. But I don't want _anybody_ to know--you remember, don't you?"

"Yes, I won't forget," said Bee. "But if you go on, Rosy, everybody will find out for themselves, without _my_ telling."

And in their different ways both little girls felt very happy as they fell asleep that night.

CHAPTER VI.

A STRIKE IN THE SCHOOLROOM.

"Multiplication's my vexation, Division is as bad."

Colin went off to school "the day after to-morrow," as he had said. The house seemed very quiet without him, and everybody felt sorry he had gone. The day after he left Miss Pinkerton came back, and the little girls' lessons began.

"How do you like her?" said Rosy to Beata the first morning.

"I think she is kind," said Bee, but that was all she said.

It was true that Miss Pinkerton meant to be kind, but she did not manage to gain the children's hearts, and Bee soon came to understand why Rosy called her "pretending." She was so afraid of vexing anybody that she had got into the habit of agreeing with every one without really thinking over what they meant, and she was so afraid also of being blamed for Rosy's tempers that she would give in to her in any way. So Rosy did not respect her, and was sometimes really rude to her.

"Miss Pink," she said one morning a few days after lessons had begun again, "I don't want to learn any more arithmetic."

"No, my dear?" said Miss Pink, mildly. "But what will you do when you are grown-up if you cannot count--everybody needs to know how to count, or else they can't manage their money."

"I don't want to know how to manage my money," replied Rosy, "somebody must do it for me. I won't learn any more arithmetic, Miss Pink."

Miss Pink, as was a common way of hers in a difficulty with Rosy, pretended not to hear, but Beata noticed, and so, you may be sure, did Rosy, that they had no arithmetic that morning, though Miss Pink said nothing about it, leaving it to seem as if it were by accident.

Beata liked sums, and did them more quickly than her other lessons. But she said nothing. When lessons were over and they were alone, Rosy threw two or three books up in the air, and caught them again.

"Aha!" she said mischievously, "we'll have no more nasty sums--you'll see."

"Rosy," said Bee, "you can't be in earnest. Miss Pink won't leave off giving us sums for always."

"Won't she?" said Rosy. "She'll have to. _I_ won't do them."

"I will," said Bee.

"How can you, if she doesn't give you any to do?"

"If she really doesn't give us any to do I'll ask her for them, and if she still doesn't, then I'll tell your mother that we're not learning arithmetic any more."

"You'll tell mamma," said Rosy, standing before her and looking very fierce.

"Yes," said Beata. "Arithmetic is one of the things my mother wants me to learn very well, and if Miss Pink doesn't teach it me I shall tell your mother."

"You mean tell-tale," cried Rosy, her face getting red with anger. "That's what you call being a friend to me and helping me to be good, when you know there's nothing puts me in such a temper as those _horrible_ sums. I know now how much your kindness is worth," and what she would have gone on to say there is no knowing had not Fixie just then come into the room, and Rosy was not fond of showing her tempers off before her little brother.

Beata was very sorry and unhappy. She said nothing more, hoping that Rosy would come to see how mistaken she was, and the rest of the day