aches, and my legs are so tired," said little Button, when her tap had been answered by a sharp "What do you want, child?"
"No, I'm going to lie there myself and have a nap as soon as I'm done here. It's cooler than the bed, and I must be fresh for to-night," said Cicely, too intent on her own affairs to see how used up Rosy looked.
"Then could I look at your pretty things if I don't touch 'em?" asked the child, longing to peep into the interesting boxes scattered on the table.
"No, you can't! I'm busy, and don't want you asking questions and meddling. Go away and let me alone."
Cicely spoke crossly, and waved her hand with a warning gesture, thereby upsetting the tray which held the beads of the necklace she had decided to wear for want of something better.
"There, now see what you've done! Pick up every one, and be quick, for I'm in a hurry."
"But I didn't touch 'em," began poor Button, as she crept about hunting for the black and white beads that looked like very ugly marbles.
"Don't talk; pick them up and then scamper; you are always in mischief!" scolded Cis, vexed with herself, and the heat, and the accident, and the whole world just then.
Rosy said no more, but several great tears dropped on the carpet as she groped in corners, under the bed, and behind the chairs for the runaways; and when the last was found she put it in her tyrant's hand, saying, with a wistful look,—