sleep.

"What is it, Fix?" said Rosy, stooping down to listen. His ears caught
the sound of her voice.

"Poor Losy," he murmured, and Rosy's face softened again.

And half an hour later Martha found them lying there together.




CHAPTER II.

BEATA.


"How will she be--fair-haired or dark,
Eyes bright and piercing, or rather soft and sweet?
--All that I care not for, so she be no phraser."
--OLD PLAY.

"What was it all about?" said Rosy's mother the next morning to Colin,
She had heard of another nursery disturbance the evening before, and
Martha had begged her to ask Colin to tell her all about it. "And
what's the matter with your eye, my boy?" she went on to say, as she
caught sight of the bluish bruise, which showed more by daylight.

"Oh, that's nothing," said Colin. "It doesn't hurt a bit, mother, it
doesn't indeed. I've had far worse lumps than that at school hundreds