Amy was a good little girl, and she tried very hard not to cry; but she
sat pressed very close to her mother's side, with her large blue eyes
full and overflowing with tears. Dick, who was very tender-hearted,
begged her to eat his toffee, which would have been comforting; but nurse
would not allow it at any price.
"No, Miss Amy," she said, "I won't hear of it--not in your pretty blue
dress. And don't lean upon your mamma; you'll wear the life out of her."
Amy pressed her soft cheek against her mother's arm, and looked up in her
face with her tearful blue eyes. She was relieved to see just the shadow
of a smile.
"Give me Master Alick, nurse," said Mrs. Beauchamp; "I am afraid he has
toothache.--There! see, Alick, all the pretty green fields going past
outside."
"It's _us_ that is going past," said Dick.
"Hold me too, mother," said Amy suddenly; "take me in your arms like you
do Alick."
"But Alick will cry if I put him down. See, I can manage like that; there
is room for both of you."
She made a large lap, and Amy scrambled on to it. It was like a nest with
two birds in it--not very restful, perhaps, to the nest, but quite
delightful for the birds. They were very good little birds, too, and they
did not quarrel; and presently Amy nudged mother's arm, and spoke in the
tiniest whisper. "One of the birds has gone to sleep," she said.
Alick's eyes were shut, and his round, flushed face was lying on mother's
hand. When she tried to take it gently away he stirred, and squeaked
restlessly.
"Let's pretend he's a cuckoo and push him out," suggested Tom.
"Tommy!" said his mother.
"Oh, I didn't mean him to fall far," said Tommy--"just a kind of roll."
"Not the kind you eat," said his mother.
"No, dear, I couldn't let you; he would be startled even if he wasn't
hurt."
"A train's so stupid," said Tommy, yawning.
Susie was on the alert in an instant.
"There! I knew he was going to be naughty," she said delightedly. "Soon
he'll be pulling the cord, or trying to break the glass, or doing
something else he oughtn't to. When he begins like that he's generally
very tiresome."
"Hush, Susie," said her mother; "see how good Dick is."
"And me!" cried Tommy.
"Yes, you are good too."
"When you're sleeping," added nurse.
"There, Miss Prig!" said Tom.
"There, mother!" cried Susie, in the same breath.
"Well, Susie, it is your own fault."
Susie flounced away to the farther end of the carriage, and sat looking
at the reflection of herself in the glass. She saw a little girl with
short blue skirts and a shady hat. When she took off the hat she could
see very large, brown eyes and a cross mouth, and the more she looked the
crosser it got. There was a fascination about that cross little mouth.
It seemed to Susie that she sat there a long while, whilst nobody took
any notice of her. In the reflection she could see baby asleep on
mother's lap, with mother's hand tucked under his cheek. He looked a
darling; but Susie frowned and looked away. Amy was sitting "in mother's
pocket"--that was what nurse called it--and Susie felt unreasonably
vexed. Dick and Tommy were leaning out of the window buying buns--Tommy
was paying. They were at a station, and there were heaps of buns. Susie
saw the cross mouth in the reflection quiver and close tightly; the brown
eyes blinked--she almost thought the Susie in the reflection was going to
cry.
"Nobody cares," she said to herself miserably. "Mother doesn't care; she
loves Amy and Alick more than me. The boys hate me; they will eat all the
buns, and I shall die of hunger. I wish--"
"Susie," said mother's voice, "the children are stifling me. Come and
have tea; we have bought such a lot of buns. Will you help me put baby
down in your corner? and you might give him your jacket for a pillow."
Susie could see nothing, but she kept her eyes on the reflection in the
window, with a fascinated stare.
"Susie, I _want_ you," said her mother gently.
In a minute Susie had swept the tears away with her sleeve, and had
launched herself across the rocking carriage, and flung her arms round
her mother's neck.
"Gently, gently, darling," said mother, smiling. "I haven't got a
hand--Alick is holding it so fast--but I missed you, Susie. There is
something there, outside, that I wanted to be the first to show you."
Susie, still rather subdued, leant as far out of the window as the bars
allowed, and let the wind from the engine blow the curls about her face.
Away, far on the horizon, was a silver line, as straight as if it had
been ruled with a ruler, and a shining white speck showed against the
yellow evening sky.
"What is it?" said Susie, breathlessly.
"It is the _sea_," her mother told her, "and the white sails of the ships
are going out with the tide."
"Mother, I mean never to be naughty again," said Susie suddenly; "only I
know that to-morrow I shall forget, and be as horrid as I was to-day."
Susie was tired, and more tears seemed imminent. The train was slowing
down, and the screeching of the engine almost drowned her voice.
"Pick up the parcels, and be quite ready to jump out," said Mrs.
Beauchamp hastily. "Susie, you must not grow perfect _too_ suddenly;
I shouldn't know you!"