With angry tears blinding her she ran across to the nursery, and stood
looking out at the silver line of sea and the bobbing ships. Alick was
stretching in his cradle, and it creaked under his weight. She could see
his curly head and his outstretched fat legs. He was so accustomed to
having his legs admired that he always pulled up his petticoats solemnly
to exhibit them, as though pathetically hoping to get it over and have
done with it.

Susie's ill-temper evaporated like smoke. She flung herself beside the
cradle, and hugged Alick in her arms, leaning so closely over him that
nurse, in hurrying to and fro, paused to expostulate.

"Not so close, Miss Susie, please--the child can't breathe; and I don't
want you putting any of your naughtiness into his head."

"How can I, when he can't walk?" said Susie indignantly.

"Well, I wouldn't put it beyond you," said nurse. "I know you've been up
to something, or you wouldn't be here now, looking as if butter wouldn't
melt in your mouth."

"I'm trying to be good," said Susie, still indignant.

"Well, we shan't see the result yet awhile," said nurse, "for the way
you've devil-oped these holidays is past imagining."

She always pronounced it in that way, and the word held a dreary
significance for Susie.