too tired to smile that her face was strange.

And Susie's behaviour was quite angelic. She was happy and busy, and
brimful of good resolutions. She gave up many and many a morning on the
sands to play with Dick, and to let her mother go out to walk or shop.
Her astonishing meekness was a constant surprise to Tom, and he was
relieved by occasional flashes of temper, which showed him that the old
Susie was only sleeping, not dead!

But at last Dick was able to be wheeled down to the sands in Alick's
perambulator, and perhaps it was the joy of his recovery that turned
Susie's head, or perhaps she was tired of her long spell of goodness, but
whatever the reason, she was particularly teasing and tiresome. She did
not like to see her mother sitting close to Dick, ready to wheel him home
if he was tired; and she would not allow her to read in peace, but kept
breaking in with silly questions and remarks.

"You never let _me_ sit in your pocket," she said at last crossly.

"My dear Susie"--mother shut her book with a very faint sigh--"there is
not room for all of you on my lap. I should have to nurse an arm or a leg
at a time."

"You could _make_ room," said Susie.

"She would be like the donkey that wanted to be a lap-dog, wouldn't she,
mother?" said Tom. "It sat upon its master's lap."

Every one laughed, except Susie.