"Oh, how I should like a new brooch," Celia said, earnestly. "Oh, mother, look at some of these! Are they not lovely? Don't you think you might buy me one?" she asked, coaxingly.
"You do not want a new brooch, my dear. You have the little gold one, like Joy's, which I gave you last Christmas."
"The pin is out, mother."
"It can easily be put in again. That is a matter that will only cost a few coppers to rectify."
"But I should so like to have a brooch with stones in it," Celia sighed. "The one I saved my money to buy is quite unfit to wear because several of the brilliants have come out."
"I never liked it," Mrs. Wallis said, decidedly, "but as you bought it with your own money I did not say anything against it; I confess, though, I am not sorry to hear it is unwearable. Showy jewellery, in my opinion, ought never to be worn by young girls."
Celia did not pursue the subject, but she could not help thinking her mother might have gratified her desire, and she was very discontented.
"It is not as though it was her money," the little girl mused, "it is Uncle Jasper's, and he gave it to her to spend for me. I am sure he would not mind if she bought me a new brooch. The one she gave me at Christmas is all very well in its way, but it's so plain, no one notices it, I am sure."
"Are you not pleased with our purchases?" Mrs. Wallis asked, in a slightly reproachful tone, as they were being driven home, observing Celia's overcast countenance, and guessing the cause. "Uncle Jasper has been most generous, and you ought to be very grateful to him. What is the meaning of your discontented face?"
"I did not know I was looking discontented," Celia answered, rather ashamed of herself, "and indeed I am very pleased all the pretty things we have bought, but—but—"