"My kind little daughter," she said; and Susie beamed.
When she got back to Tom and Amy she found that they were not alone: two other children, a boy and a girl, with bare feet and tucked-up skirts, were standing talking to them.
The boy had black eyes and black hair, and the girl was the image of him; her long, thin legs were like pipe stems, and she spoke in a loud, domineering voice.
"We have watched you all the week," she said, "and we made up our minds to know you. We thought we had better wait until your mother and nurse were out of sight, in case they forbid us to come. Us two are twins."
"Oh, they wouldn't forbid you," said Amy, with hasty politeness.
The boy smiled in a superior way. "They might" he said. "Nurses generally do. We are not particularly good, and nurses are so narrow-minded."
"We are reckless," said the girl. "Our names are Dot and Dash."
"They're pretty good names," said Tom.
"They fit us," said the twins in a breath.
"Both of we were taken out of church last Sunday," said Dot, in an explanatory way and with an air of pride. "When the clergyman came from inside the railings, Dash forgot he was in church, and he jumped up and said quite loud, 'Shut the gate.'"