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first words tell all.

      'Quick, Tink,' he whispered, 'close the window; bar it. That's right. Now you and I must get away by the door; and when Wendy comes she will think her mother has barred her out; and she will have to go back with me.'

      Now I understand what had hitherto puzzled me, why when Peter had exterminated the pirates he did not return to the island and leave Tink to escort the children to the mainland. This trick had been in his head all the time.

      Instead of feeling that he was behaving badly he danced with glee; then he peeped into the day-nursery to see who was playing. He whispered to Tink, 'It's Wendy's mother. She is a pretty lady, but not so pretty as my mother. Her mouth is full of thimbles, but not so full as my mother's was.'

      Of course he knew nothing whatever about his mother; but he sometimes bragged about her.

      He did not know the tune, which was 'Home, Sweet Home,' but he knew it was saying, 'Come back, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy'; and he cried exultantly, 'You will never see Wendy again, lady, for the window is barred.'

      He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped; and now he saw that Mrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two tears were sitting on her eyes.

      'She wants me to unbar the window,' thought Peter, 'but I won't, not I.'

      He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two had taken their place.

      'She's awfully fond of Wendy,' he said to himself. He was angry with her now for not seeing why she could not have Wendy.

      The reason was so simple: 'I'm fond of her too. We can't both have her, lady.'

      But the lady would not make the best of it, and he was unhappy. He ceased to look at her, but even then she would not let go of him. He skipped about and made funny faces, but when he stopped it was just as if she were inside him, knocking.

      'Oh, all right,' he said at last, and gulped. Then he unbarred the window. 'Come on, Tink,' he cried, with a frightful sneer at the laws of nature; 'we don't want any silly mothers'; and he flew away.

      Thus Wendy and John and Michael found the window open for them after all, which of course was more than they deserved. They alighted on the floor, quite unashamed of themselves; and the youngest one had already forgotten his home.

      'John,' he said, looking around him doubtfully, 'I think I have been here before.'

      'Of course you have, you silly. There is your old bed.'

      'So it is,' Michael said, but not with much conviction.

      'I say,' cried John, 'the kennel!' and he dashed across to look into it.

      'Perhaps Nana is inside it,' Wendy said.

      But John whistled. 'Hullo,' he said, 'there's a man inside it.'

      'It's father!' exclaimed Wendy.

      'Let me see father,' Michael begged eagerly, and he took a good look. 'He is not so big as the pirate I killed,' he said with such frank disappointment that I am glad Mr. Darling was asleep; it would have been sad if those had been the first words he heard his little Michael say.

      Wendy and John had been taken aback somewhat at finding their father in the kennel.

      'Surely,' said John, like one who had lost faith in his memory, 'he used not to sleep in the kennel?'

      'John,' Wendy said falteringly, 'perhaps we don't remember the old life as well as we thought we did.'

      A chill fell upon them; and serve them right.

      'It is very careless of mother,' said that young scoundrel John, 'not to be here when we come back.'

      It was then that Mrs. Darling began playing again.

      'It's mother!' cried Wendy, peeping.

      'So it is!' said John.

      'Then are you not really our mother, Wendy?' asked Michael, who was surely sleepy.

      'Oh dear!' exclaimed Wendy, with her first real twinge of remorse, 'it was quite time we came back.'

      'Let us creep in,' John suggested, 'and put our hands over her eyes.'

      But Wendy, who saw that they must break the joyous news more gently, had a better plan.

      'Let us all slip into our beds, and be there when she comes in, just as if we had never been away.'

      And so when Mrs. Darling went back to the night-nursery to see if her husband was asleep, all the beds were occupied. The children waited for her cry of joy, but it did not come. She saw them, but she did not believe they were there. You see, she saw them in their beds so often in her dreams that she thought this was just the dream hanging around her still.

      She sat down in the chair by the fire, where in the old days she had nursed them.

      They could not understand this, and a cold fear fell upon all the three of them.

      'Mother!' Wendy cried.

      'That's Wendy,' she said, but still she was sure it was the dream.

      'Mother!'

      'That's John,' she said.

      'Mother!' cried Michael. He knew her now.

      'That's Michael,' she said, and she stretched out her arms for the three little selfish children they would never envelop again. Yes, they did, they went round Wendy and John and Michael, who had slipped out of bed and run to her.

      'George, George,' she cried when she could speak; and Mr. Darling woke to share her bliss, and Nana came rushing in. There could not have been a lovelier sight; but there was none to see it except a strange boy who was staring in at the window. He had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know; but he was looking through the window at the one joy from which he must be for ever barred.

      CHAPTER XVII

       Table of Contents

      WHEN WENDY GREW UP

      I hope you want to know what became of the other boys. They were waiting below to give Wendy time to explain about them; and when they had counted five hundred they went up. They went up by the stair, because they thought this would make a better impression. They stood in a row in front of Mrs. Darling, with their hats off, and wishing they were not wearing their pirate clothes. They said nothing, but their eyes asked her to have them. They ought to have looked at Mr. Darling also, but they forgot about him.

      Of course Mrs. Darling said at once that she would have them; but Mr. Darling was curiously depressed, and they saw that he considered six a rather large number.

      'I must say,' he said to Wendy, 'that you don't do things by halves,' a grudging remark which the twins thought was pointed at them.

      The first twin was the proud one, and he asked, flushing, 'Do you think we should be too much of a handful, sir? Because if so we can go away.'

      'Father!' Wendy cried, shocked; but still the cloud was on him. He knew he was behaving unworthily, but he could not help it.

      'We could lie doubled up,' said Nibs.

      'I always cut their hair myself,' said Wendy.

      'George!' Mrs. Darling exclaimed, pained to see her dear one showing himself in such an unfavourable light.

      Then he burst into tears, and the truth came out. He was as glad to have them as she was, he said, but he thought they should have asked his consent as well as hers, instead of treating him as a cypher in his own house.

      'I don't think he is a cypher,' Tootles cried instantly. 'Do you think he is a cypher, Curly?'

      'No,

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