"Do you mean that it was Rosy that struck you—that hit you in the eye?" she said.
Colin looked vexed. "I thought Martha had told you," he said. "And I teased her, mother. I told her she was afraid of having her nose put out of joint when Be—I can't say her name—when the little girl comes."
"O Colin, how could you?" said his mother sadly. "When I had explained to you about Beata coming, and that I hoped it might do Rosy good! I thought you would have tried to help me, Colin."
Colin felt very vexed with himself.
"I won't do it any more, mother, I won't indeed," he said. "I wish I could leave off teasing; but at school, you know, one gets into the way, and one has to learn not to mind it."
"Yes," said his mother, "I know, and it is a very good thing to learn not to mind it. But I don't think teasing will do Rosy any good just now, especially not about little Beata."
"Mother," said Colin.
"Well, my boy," said his mother.
"I wish she hadn't such a stupid name. It's so hard to say."
"I think they sometimes have called her Bee," said his mother; "I daresay you can call her so."