“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.