Dick took many days to get well, and all the time his crib remained in the corner of his mother's room. The red pail and spade were tidied away, and his knickerbocker suit was put out of sight; and in the afternoon, when the house was empty, and nurse, and Susie, and Amy, and Tom, and baby were all out on the sands, his mother used to read delightful stories to him, whilst he lay and watched her with round, wondering eyes. His cough was troublesome at night, but however often he twisted, and turned, and choked, there was the familiar face bending over him, her arm beneath his head.

Dick was a very kind little boy, and he tried always to cough under the bed-clothes, so as not to wake her, but it was no use. However carefully he coughed, her eyes always opened at once.

"I am taking away your peace-time," he said, over and over again. And she always answered, "Never mind, darling; I could not sleep if you wanted me."

"You look so funny," he said once.

"Perhaps I am tired, Dickie."

But she smiled as she spoke, and he felt relieved. It was when she was too tired to smile that her face was strange.

And Susie's behaviour was quite angelic. She was happy and busy, and brimful of good resolutions. She gave up many and many a morning on the sands to play with Dick, and to let her mother go out to walk or shop. Her astonishing meekness was a constant surprise to Tom, and he was relieved by occasional flashes of temper, which showed him that the old Susie was only sleeping, not dead!

But at last Dick was able to be wheeled down to the sands in Alick's perambulator, and perhaps it was the joy of his recovery that turned Susie's head, or perhaps she was tired of her long spell of goodness, but whatever the reason, she was particularly teasing and tiresome. She did not like to see her mother sitting close to Dick, ready to wheel him home if he was tired; and she would not allow her to read in peace, but kept breaking in with silly questions and remarks.

"You never let me sit in your pocket," she said at last crossly.

"My dear Susie"—mother shut her book with a very faint sigh—"there is not room for all of you on my lap. I should have to nurse an arm or a leg at a time."

"You could make room," said Susie.

"She would be like the donkey that wanted to be a lap-dog, wouldn't she, mother?" said Tom. "It sat upon its master's lap."

Every one laughed, except Susie.

"Well, I'm not a donkey," she said, "and I'm not a lap-dog; and, besides, you want to yourself."

"No, I don't," said Tom stoutly. "I hate to sit on any one's lap; if you are so anxious you can sit on nurse's."

Susie's eyes threatened to overflow.

"Oh, don't cry, Susie," said her mother, in alarm, "or I shall have to put up my umbrella. Go and build a castle with Tom, and take Amy. I trust her to you. Nurse and I must get the babies home."

Susie always rose to any demand made upon her, and was proud of being trusted. She gathered Dick's shells and seaweed and glittering stones skilfully into his pail, and was really helpful in rolling up the rugs and cushions. She was so pleased to see his rather thin, unsteady legs gathering strength as they wobbled slowly over the sand. When she put her arm round him, she was proud to feel that he really needed support. At the foot of the wooden steps leading up the cliff his mother took him in her arms. She was looking tired and pale, but she smiled very sweetly at Susie.

"My kind little daughter," she said; and Susie beamed.

When she got back to Tom and Amy she found that they were not alone: two other children, a boy and a girl, with bare feet and tucked-up skirts, were standing talking to them.

The boy had black eyes and black hair, and the girl was the image of him; her long, thin legs were like pipe stems, and she spoke in a loud, domineering voice.

"We have watched you all the week," she said, "and we made up our minds to know you. We thought we had better wait until your mother and nurse were out of sight, in case they forbid us to come. Us two are twins."

"Oh, they wouldn't forbid you," said Amy, with hasty politeness.

The boy smiled in a superior way. "They might" he said. "Nurses generally do. We are not particularly good, and nurses are so narrow-minded."

"We are reckless," said the girl. "Our names are Dot and Dash."

"They're pretty good names," said Tom.

"They fit us," said the twins in a breath.

"Both of we were taken out of church last Sunday," said Dot, in an explanatory way and with an air of pride. "When the clergyman came from inside the railings, Dash forgot he was in church, and he jumped up and said quite loud, 'Shut the gate.'"

"Whatever for?" said Tom.

"You see," said Dash, with his air of modest pride, "I always spend the time thinking how many sheep I could pen into the pews, and how many cows I could get behind the railings. I think it could be seventeen with a squash, but of course, if you left the gate open, the cows would get into the sheep pens; so, when I saw him go out and leave the bar up, I felt I must run and shut it, and I spoke out loud. I didn't really mean to, but father marched us out of church, and he wouldn't let me explain."

"I suppose you oughtn't to have been thinking of cows and sheep in church," said Amy, in her surprised little voice.

"Shut up, Miss Prig," said Dash; and Amy was obediently silent.

"Shall we play together?" said the twins, with one voice.

"It would be jolly," said Tom.—"Wouldn't it, Susie?"

"Well, you mustn't tell your people," they said, "but every morning after your babies go in we might have a jolly game."

"Mother wouldn't mind, would she, Susie?" said Amy.

"We don't want your opinion," said Tom loftily.

Amy blushed till the tears came. "Would she?" she repeated desperately.

"There's no harm in playing," said Susie.

All her good resolutions were slipping away, and her voice grew excited. Susie was always so carried away by the spirit of adventure, and she forgot so easily. These sands, and the silver sea full of monsters! The black rocks and seaweed—no nurse to bother about wet stockings—no babies who needed a good example! Susie's spirits rose.

"There wouldn't be any harm," she cried eagerly, "and we might have some jolly games. We only wouldn't tell mother, because it might worry her."

"Mother can walk on the rocks," cried Amy eagerly.

"I don't believe it," said Dash. "I don't believe an old woman like that can walk a bit—not like we can."

"Not as fast as us," said Susie.—"Don't be tiresome, Amy; it isn't mother who is tiresome—it's nurse."

"Well, we'll meet to-morrow," said the twins, speaking together, as they generally did, at the top of rather squeaky voices.

They pulled Susie to one side.

"Don't tell the other one," they said, in hoarse whispers; "she'd go and tell."

"She's very young," said Susie, in quick apology, as she ran off.

"Both of we has pails," shouted the twins after her, "and we can bring cake."

"We are not allowed curranty cake," said Susie reluctantly.

"Bosh," said the twins. "Who's to know? We come of a very gouty family, and we may eat curranty cake."

"I dare say a little piece wouldn't matter," said Susie.

"O Susie," said Amy, as she plodded breathlessly over the sand to the steps, "she called mother an old woman!"

"Well?" said Susie.

"She is the most young and the most beautiful lady I have ever seen," said Amy, with flushed cheeks.

"Yes, of course," said Susie.

"They seemed rather rude," said Amy.

"It isn't being rude, it's being reckless. Didn't you hear them say so?"

"Aren't they the same, Susie?"

"Not at all," said Susie, with her nose in the air. "It's older to be reckless; it's much easier to be rude. But you mustn't tell, Amy."

"O Susie, I'll try not," said Amy; "but when mother asks me I don't know what to do."

"Well, you can hold your tongue," said Susie sharply.