'It will be of no use to me, mother.'
'That I cannot help.'
'But I must pour it out, and fill the flower-pot with water.'
'As you please, my dear.'
'Will you lend me a bowl to pour it into, mother?'
'That was more than I promised you, my dear, but I will lend you a bowl.'
The bowl was produced, and Rosamond proceeded to empty the blue vase. But she experienced much surprise and disappointment on finding, when it was entirely empty, that it was no longer a blue vase. It was a plain white glass jar, which had appeared to have that beautiful colour merely from the liquor with which it had been filled.
Little Rosamond burst into tears.
'Why should you cry, my dear?' said her mother; 'it will be of as much use to you now as ever for a flower-pot.'
'But it won't look so pretty on the chimney-piece. I am sure, if I had known that it was not really blue, I should not have wished to have it so much.'