ked--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!"

CHAPTER III.

The next day was radiantly beautiful, and Susie started well. Directly
after breakfast the four elder ones trooped down to the sands with spades
and buckets, whilst Alick, left alone with nurse, waved his good-byes
from the balcony. Mrs. Beauchamp looked after them a little anxiously;
but Susie in her best mood was so very trustworthy that she smoothed the
anxious line out of her forehead, and turned back with a restful sigh to
the empty room and the silence.

And out on the beach things went swimmingly. They made sand castles and