she said to herself. "She is good, but I don't think she is
pretending," and it was this feeling that made the beginning of Rosy's
friendship for Beata--_trust_.

The little girls slept till later than usual the next morning, for
they had been a good while awake in the night. Rosy began grumbling
and declaring she would not get up, and there was very nearly the
beginning of a stormy scene with Martha when the sound of Bee's voice
calling out "Good-morning, Rosy," from the next room reminded her of
their talk in the night, and though she did not feel all at once able
to speak good-naturedly to Martha, she left off scolding. But her face
did not look as pleasant as Beata had hoped to see it when she came
into the nursery.

"Don't speak to me, please," she said in a low voice, "I haven't
settled yet what I'm going to do. I'm still thinking about it."

Bee did not say any more, but the morning passed peacefully, and once
or twice when Colin began some of the teasing which seemed as
necessary to him as his dinner or his breakfast, Rosy contented
herself with a wriggle or a little growl instead of fiery words and
sometimes even blows. And when Colin, surprised at her patience went
further and further, ending by tying a long mesh of her hair to the
back of her chair, while she was busy fitting a frock on to one of the
little dolls, and then, calling her suddenly, made her start up and
really hurt herself, Beata was astonished at her patience. She gave a
little scream, it is true--who could have helped it?--and then rushed
out of the room, but not before the others had seen the tears that
were running down her cheeks.