"It would be doing no real kindness to Bee," she said to herself, "to
let Mr. Furnivale give it to her. It would certainly rouse that
terrible jealousy of Rosy's, and it might grow beyond my power to undo
the harm it would do. As it is, seeing, as I know she will, how simply
and sweetly Beata behaves about it may do her lasting good, and draw
the children still more together."

So she looked up at Mr. 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. Furnivale, "If I _can_ find another
necklace when I go back to Venice. I shall not forget to send
it--indeed, I might write to the dealer beforehand to look out for
one. I am sure you are right, and on the whole I am glad, for Cecy did
buy it for your own little girl."

"Would you like to give it her now?" said Mrs. Vincent, and as Mr.
Furnivale said "Yes," she went to the window opening out on to the
lawn where the three children were now playing, and called Rosy.

"I wonder what mamma wants," thought Rosy to herself, as she walked
towards the drawing-room rather slowly and sulkily, leaving Bee and
Fixie to go on running races (for when I said "the children" were