The taking notice of it made Bee's tears come more quickly. All the children looked sorry, and a puzzled expression came into Rosy's face.
"Come into my room a minute, Bee," she said. "Do tell me," she went on, "what are you crying for?"
Beata put her arms round Rosy's neck.
"I can't quite tell you," she said, "I'm afraid of vexing you. But, oh, I do so wish—" and then she stopped.
"What?" said Rosy.
"I wish you would never get vexed with Colin or anybody, and I wish Colin wouldn't tease you," said Bee.
"Was that all?" said Rosy. "Oh, that wasn't anything—you should hear us sometimes."
"Please don't," entreated Beata. "I can't bear it. Oh, dear Rosy, don't be vexed with me, but please do let us be all happy and not have anything like that."
Rosy did not seem vexed, but neither did she seem quite to understand.
"What a funny girl you are, Bee," she said. "I suppose it's because you've lived alone with big people always that you're like that. I daresay you'll learn to tease too and to squabble, after you've been a while here."