And the wonderful part of it all was that Susie was not even ill! She slept "into the middle of next week," as nurse expressed it; but it was a deep, steady, peaceful sleep, quite undisturbed by any commotion around her. Amy sat most of the morning crouched up on the floor, just inside the room, and waited for the opening of those brown eyes; whilst nurse had even got Dick and baby safely dressed and out on the sands before Susie's eyelids quivered, and she stretched her stiff limbs, and started up with a cry, "Mother!"

"My darling Susie!"

"O mother! I was so afraid you were a dream."

"Then what are you?"

"A troublesome comfort. Nurse said so, and it is true."

She sat straight up in bed, with her knees drawn up and her hands clasped round them. Her hair was rough, and there were no little stiff pigtails telling of nurse's energetic brushing. On her hands there were bruises and scratches that hurt her; but nothing mattered now that she was within reach of the comfortable arms, and could lay her head on the blue serge knee.

"Mummy, is Dick well?"

"Quite well, darling."

"Mother"—she pressed closer and hid her face—"I am sorry, but I don't know how to say it. I didn't like the twins to think me a baby, and I felt quite certain that I could get back."

"Perhaps you are too certain, darling."

"You mean," said Susie, "that there is too much talk and too little do."

"Perhaps that is what I mean, Susie; but when I try to think about it clearly I only see a poor little cold, frightened child, and Dick as warm as toast."

"I never thought about it, mother. I only prayed and prayed that he might not get bronchitis."

"It is because you did not think about it that I love you, Susie."

"I will try and be better," said Susie humbly.

Straight across the room she caught sight of a reflection in the glass, and she sat suddenly more upright and gazed at it. It reminded her of that reflection in the train; but this mouth was smiling, not set into sulky lines—these eyes were not full of angry tears!

"Oh, I am perfectly certain I can be good," cried Susie eagerly.

The reflection in the glass seemed to hesitate; the sparkling eyes fell, and Susie's face went down upon her knees.

She groaned in despair.

"It seems as if I couldn't help it," she said. "I am always perfectly certain."

"And I am perfectly certain that I hear your breakfast on the stairs," said Mrs. Beauchamp, "and that is the important thing."

She raised Susie's crimson face, and smoothed the rebellious hair, and patted the pillow into a comfortable shape. Every good nurse knows that tears and protestations must wait their time, and that little patients cannot be allowed the luxury of repentance!

Susie would have liked to pour out volumes of self-reproach and ease her burdened heart, so it was perhaps one little step in the right direction when she resolutely closed her lips and welcomed Amy and the breakfast with a smile.

She came downstairs in the afternoon and lay on the horsehair sofa in the sitting-room, and held a sort of levÉe of her visitors. Tom was subdued, and the twins were envious—nothing uncommon ever happened to them! They knew too much or were too cautious, but they sat on two stools by the window and followed Mrs. Beauchamp's movements with their uncanny eyes, until the concentrated gaze made her nervous.

"Both of we would like to be your children," said Dash suddenly.

Mrs. Beauchamp tried to feel grateful for the compliment, and to hide the dismay it inspired.

"It seems rather hard," Dot added, "that Susie should have everything—and a mother too—and we haven't."

"Perhaps you may share me," she suggested.

But the twins viewed the position gloomily. "Us two like things of our own," they said.

"Well, you can't have mother," said Dick doggedly. "You can have our buckets when we leave, and my boat, and Amy's shells."

"Oh, not my shells," cried Amy, aggrieved.

"That's selfish of you," said Tom; "but I have a proper collection, and you haven't. You can have nurse," he generously added.

"Oh no, not nurse," said Dick.

"And that's greedy," said Tom: "you want every one."

"Yes, I do," said Dick sturdily.

"Us two," said Dot suddenly, "have adopted you for our mother. It is the only way we can have you for our own."

"You can't have her," cried Tom indignantly; "she's ours."

"That doesn't matter," said Dot; "us two have settled it. She can't help us adopting her. We are her kind of children now.—Aren't we, father?"

Mr. Amherst removed the twins before it came to blows, and left the excited family sitting silently in the dusky room.

Mrs. Beauchamp, very tired and peaceful, was drawing a dispirited darning needle through very worn stockings, and by Susie's sofa sat an upright figure with keen eyes and silver hair.

"The little lady will be sleeping soon," he said. He rose and held out a horny hand.

"In a softer bed than she had last night," said Mrs. Beauchamp gently.

"Well, as we make our bed so we lie in it," he said.

"Yes," said Susie, in a subdued voice.

He paused and smiled at her.

"But so much we didn't know of went to the making of the bed," he said, "that perhaps little missy lay softly enough after all."

"It is a pity about Miss Susie's boot," nurse said regretfully. "Of course it's a mercy the poor child was brought back safe; and never shall I forget what we suffered unknowing. But talking of beds brings back that boot to me, and it's no use telling me it doesn't matter, for it's sheer waste of the pair."

Life in London seemed rather tame to the little Beauchamps after that summer holiday, with the paddling and the boats, the rocks and the island! They took as much of it all home as they could convey in biscuit tins, and buckets, and cardboard boxes. But, after all, one cannot shut the ocean into a glass aquarium or hold the sunset on a palette, and there were many things that only memory could bring back to them—the sea-birds wheeling against the blue sky, for instance, the ebbing and flowing tide, the miles of seaweed on the beach, and one night the memory of which will only die with Susie.

Dick has long forgotten it, for he lay "very softly" in the bed that Susie made for him; but at any moment Susie can shut her eyes and hear the trampling of the surf and the beating of the rain, and see the misty stars!

The twins have taken their adopted mother very seriously, and have established her in the citadel of their hearts. Like the pirates that they are, they have stolen her love, and love her passionately in return. Their undivided affection does not give her a very peaceful life, but it is certainly never dull, and the bold black eyes have grown very dear to her.

The traditions of the Royal Navy are always the mainspring of life in the Beauchamps' nursery; they "carry on" under the auspices of Nelson, and in obedience to his signal they do what England expects! Duty is their watchword, and Ben is their model. Nurse often stands amazed at an obedience that is almost alarming; but when she begins to think that Miss Susie or Master Tom is growing too good to live, she is generally reassured by some quite unlooked-for crime, and, to her relief, the "troublesome comforts" remain troublesome.