instant doubted the exact truth of what she said, "no, Beata had not
said one word about you or your lessons to me. I came in just then
quite by accident. I am very sorry you are so suspicious, Rosy--you
seem to trust no one--not even innocent-hearted, honest little Bee."

Rosy drew a long breath, and grew rather red. Her best self was glad
to find Bee what she had always been--not to be obliged to keep to her
terrible resolutions of "never forgiving," and so on; but her
_worst_ self felt a strange kind of crooked disappointment that
her suspicions had no ground.

"Bee _said_ she would tell you," she murmured, confusedly, "she
said if I wouldn't go on with sums she'd complain to you."

"But she would have done it in an open, honest way," said her mother.
"You _know_ she would never have tried to get you into disgrace
in any underhand way. But I won't say any more about Bee, Rosy. I must
tell you that I have decided not to punish you any more to-day, and I
will tell you that the reason is greatly that an old friend of
ours--of your father's and mine----"

"Mr. 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. 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