“I’ve questioned them,” said nurse, “but they don’t seem to know anything.  They’ll be ready enough to tell if they do; they are very upset.”

Mrs. Beauchamp sat upon the lowest stair, with her anxious eyes fixed on the nursery door.  They were curiously like Susie’s eyes, but with a sweeter expression.  They were smiling still, but it was such a sad smile that after one look Amy flew helter-skelter downstairs and flung herself into the welcoming arms.

“Amy,” said her mother gently, “don’t cry now; I haven’t time.  I am anxious about Dickie’s bronchitis”—­it was curious how she clung to the belief that it was only the bronchitis that troubled her—­“it is so rainy and cold!  Do you know where Susie has gone?”

“No, mother,” said Amy.  She knelt upon the stair with her pale little face pressed against her mother’s cheek.

“Think, Amy,” Mrs. Beauchamp urged.

“I have thoughted and thoughted,” said Amy, “and I can only remember that once, a long time ago, the twins said—­”

“What twins?”

“Oh, I forgot you didn’t know.  They are twins, and they are friends of Susie’s.  They are very reckless on the rocks, and sometimes Susie went too.”

“But when, Amy?”

“I don’t know,” said Amy, with literal truthfulness.  “They didn’t tell me; they said I was a baby.”  Amy’s eyes filled.  “I wish Susie could be found,” she said.

“But you are helping me to find her,” said her mother.  “Now I have something to go on.—­Did you know, Tom?  Have you ever been on the rocks with the twins?”

“They told me not to tell,” said Tom sturdily.

“But, Tom, that does not matter; it is right to break such a promise.”

“If you break your promise you go to hell,” said Tom.

“No, no, Tom—­not when it is a matter—­a matter of life and death.  Do you think they went on the rocks to-night?”

“I will tell you if you want me to,” said Tom, “but Susie will be angry.  I don’t know if she went to-day; so there!”

“Did you ever go?”

“Heaps and heaps of times,” said Tom.

“And who are the twins?”

“I don’t know.”

“But their name, Tom?” she urged.

“I truly don’t know, mummy.”

“O Tom!”

Tom too had broken down, and his arms were round her neck.

“O mother, Susie didn’t mean to go.  She often and often didn’t want to.  Don’t be angry with Susie.  Nurse often said, ’I can’t think where you get your stockings in such a mess.’  But the twins asked Susie, and she went; often and often she didn’t want to—­”

“Poor Susie,” said Mrs. Beauchamp.

“And you needn’t think she’s drowned,” said Tom, “because Susie knows quite well how to walk on seaweed.  She wouldn’t be such a silly as to be drowned.”

Tom’s testimony and the policeman’s!  She alone—­Susie’s mother—­had been faithless and unbelieving.  She began to regain her confidence in Susie.  She got up a minute later with a more hopeful smile.  As she shook out her wet umbrella she stooped to kiss Amy’s eager face.