"Bee," she said quickly, "I do think you're very good. Are you not the
least bit vexed, Bee, that _you_ haven't got it, or at least that
you haven't got one like it?"

Beata looked up with real surprise.

"Vexed that I haven't got one too," she repeated, "of course not, Rosy
dear. People can't always have everything the same. I never thought of
such a thing. And besides it is a pleasure to me even though it's not
my necklace. It will be nice to see you wearing it, and I know you'll
let me look at it in my hand sometimes, won't you?" touching the beads
gently as she spoke. "See, Fixie," she went on, "what lovely colours!
Aren't they like fairy beads, Fixie?"

"Yes," said Fixie, "they is welly _pitty_. I could fancy I saw
fairies looking out of some of them. I think if we was to listen welly
kietly p'raps we'd hear fairy stories coming out of them."

"Rubbish, Fixie," said Rosy, rather sharply. She was too fond of
calling other people's fancies "rubbish." Fixie's face grew red, and
the corners of his mouth went down.

"Rosy's only in fun, Fixie," said Bee. "You shouldn't mind. We'll try
some day and see if we can hear any stories--any way we could fancy
them, couldn't we? Are you going to put on the beads now, Rosy? I
think I can fasten the clasp, if you'll turn round. Yes, that's right.
Now don't they look lovely? Shall we run back to the house to let your
mother see it on? O Rosy, you can't _think_ how pretty it looks."