“Why weren’t one of you the eldest?” said Susie crossly.  “I’ve been the eldest all my life, and I’m tired of it.  Mother knows I can’t manage them.”

Without turning her head she knew that Amy was creeping again across the strip of pebbles.  She heard her foot slipping, and the shouts of the boys when she reached them; then Amy’s soft little frightened voice—­and then silence.

* * * * *

An hour later Mrs. Beauchamp was sitting on the little balcony outside the drawing-room window.  The sky was divinely blue, and the sun was dazzling.  Close to her feet was a basket of stockings that needed darning, but she felt as if she must lay her needle down every now and then, to look at the gray, glittering sea, and the shifting crowd upon the beach.  Her feet ached with perpetual running up and down stairs; but she was glad to think that the children were happy and good.  In the room across the passage she could hear nurse singing Alick to sleep, and down in the street below a funny little procession was winding up from the sea.  She rose and looked over the balcony on to the tops of two sailor hats, and what looked like two soaking mushrooms.  She stared at them stupidly, wondering why the box they dragged behind them was so familiar, and why they left such a long wet trail behind them.

After them sauntered a few idle fishermen; but just for a minute she could not grasp what had happened.  Then she pushed the basket on one side and ran to the drawing-room door.

Up the stairs came the hurried rush of feet, with the box bumping from stair to stair.  Then the dripping family clung about her with soaked garments, and hair that looked like seaweed.

“Mother, change us, please, before nurse sees us.”

“But what is it?” she cried.  “How did it happen?”

“It was Tom’s fault,” said Susie, whimpering.  “He sent Dick out to sea in the uniform case, and it has a hole in it, and it went down.”

“Oh, run upstairs and change; Dick has a cough.”

“He didn’t drown,” said Tom, “because we had tied a rope to it, and a fisherman pulled it up.”

“And where is Dickie?”

“I told him to go up on the roof and dry—­he’s on the leads by now.  It’s awfully nice there; we went this morning.”

“On the roof!—­Susie, tell him to come down, whilst I get their clothes.—­Tom, how can you do such things?”

“Why, you never told us not to,” said Tom, with innocent eyes.

Susie crept upstairs, very white and quiet.  She had been really frightened, and she had an uncomfortable feeling at the back of her mind that somehow it was her fault.  She found Dick scrambling on to the roof, and hauled him in with unnecessary vigour.  When she got downstairs she was sulky because her mother had not time to listen to her eager excuses, but put her hastily on one side.

“Never mind now, Susie.  The first thing is to slip off your wet clothes and get dry, and then help me with the others.  Give me the big towel, and untie Amy’s frock.”