Twenty-one pearls!—no, twenty-two; thirteen in the B, and nine in the V of the monogram, besides the six little nails with heads of real diamonds! Beata had never seen such a locket, no, not even in a shop window, and to have had it for her very own for four whole days, and not be able so much as to wear it!
It had come on Christmas-day—come in a little case all packed with cotton-wool, and lined with silver paper—a case which Beata's fingers could hardly open, they shook so with excitement and eagerness; and it came all the way from Germany and her German godmother, Madame Von Thausandmal.
"A beautiful locket, certainly, my dear," said Mrs. Vyner, Beata's mamma, in confidence, to Beata's papa, when locket and case, and Beata—rosy and joyful and proud—had all vanished with a rush out of mamma's pretty blue morning-room. "But so utterly unsuitable to a child! What can Helga von Thausandmal have been thinking of to send her such a thing? Of course it was exceedingly kind of her, but I'm afraid it will turn Beata's head, and it won't be the least use to her for years to come."
"Why not, eh?" asked the Squire, who was deep in the morning paper, and perhaps wasn't attending as he might have been. "I thought it pretty enough."
"It's lovely; that's just it. It's too bad to tantalize her with a thing she can't wear, and no properly brought up little girls wear such jewelry; even if they did, I should not let Beata do anything so silly and improper. No; it must be put away for her till she is eighteen, and 'comes out.' Poor child! I won't take it away for a week or two; it would be cruel; but go it must. Why couldn't Helga have sent her some books, or a doll, or anything sensible?"
But of all this Beata heard not a word, and her cup of bliss seemed as if it would run over. Such a locket! as grand as a grown-up young lady's, and for her very own! She had shown it at least three times over to every servant in the house, down to Elizabeth Jane, the kitchen-maid, who had won Beata's genuine respect by her "Law, miss, if it ain't fit for a duchess at the very least!" and she only sighed to think her governess had gone home for the holidays, and could not see it for a whole fortnight.
But now a little shadow, like a small cloud, had come over the sunshine. What was the good of a locket, and such a locket as Beata's, if other people didn't see and admire? And how could they see it, if it were not worn? And what chance had she to wear it?
To be sure, the house was full of visitors, who had come the very day after Christmas, and Rex and she went down to dessert every night, and into the drawing-room for half an hour afterward; but somehow Beata never quite ventured to suggest "Locket," as nurse dressed her in her well-worn little frock of black velvet, and tied her plain red silk sash; indeed, she rather fancied she could see nurse's face if she did; and as to wearing it to church on Sunday—well, even Beata's little head could dimly understand somehow that God's house wasn't the place for finery and display; and so—
"But now, to-day, there is a chance," she thought, with a gasp which was half exultation and half pure fright at her own daring; for Rex and she were going skating.
Down in the park at Dene Hall there is a beautiful little lake, where the wild fowl swim in summer, and where Beata and Rex were wont to paddle about in a flat-bottomed boat, a "tub," Rex called it. But now the water was covered with firm smooth ice, and the ladies and gentlemen staying at the Hall had gone down there to skate, and Cousin Cecil had promised to look after the children if they might come too; and Beata was tempted.