"Peggy," said Majendie, "you're a terribly observant little person." "She's a little person who sometimes observes all wrong." "No, mummy, I don't. You never talk to daddy like you talk to me." "You're a little girl, dear, and daddy's a big grown-up man." "That's not what I mean, though. You've got a grown-up voice for me, too. I don't mean your grown-up voice. I mean, mummy, you talk to daddy as if--as if you hadn't known him a very long time. And you talk to me as if you'd known me--oh, ever so long. _Have_ you known me longer than you've known daddy?" Majendie gazed with feigned abstraction at the shoulder of the hill visible through the branches of the trees. "Bless you, sweetheart, I knew daddy long before you were ever thought of." "When was I thought of, mummy?" "I don't know, darling." "Do you know, daddy?" "Yes, Peggy. _I_ know. You were thought of here, in this wood, under this tree, on mummy's birthday, between eight and nine years ago." "Who thought of me?" "Ah, that's telling." "Who thought of me, mummy?" "Daddy and I, dear." "And you forgot, and daddy remembered." "Yes. I've got a rather better memory than your mother, dear." "You forgot my old birthday, daddy." "I haven't forgotten your mother's old birthday, though." Peggy was thinking. Her forehead was all wrinkled with the intensity of her thought. "Mummy--am I only seven?" "Only seven, Peggy." "Then," said Peggy, "you _did_ think of me before I was born. How did you know me before I was born?" Anne shook her head. "Daddy, how did you know me before I was born?" "Peggy, you're a little tease." "You brought it on yourself, my dear. Peggy, if you'll leave off teasing daddy, I'll tell you a story." "Oh!--" "Once upon a time" (Anne's voice was very low) "mummy had a dream. She dreamed she was in this wood, walking along that little path--just there--not thinking of Peggy. And when she came to this tree she saw an angel, with big white wings. He was lying under this very tree, on this very bit of grass, just there, where daddy's sitting. And one of his wings was stretched out on the grass, and it was hollow like a cradle. It was all lined with little feathers, like the inside of a swan's wing, as soft as soft. And the other wing was stretched over it like the top of a cradle. And inside, all among the soft little feathers, there was a little baby girl lying, just like Peggy." "Oh, mummy, was it me?" "Sh--sh--sh! Whoever it was, the angel saw that mummy loved it, and wanted it very much--" "The little baby girl?" "Yes. And so he took the baby and gave it to mummy, to be her own little girl. That's how Peggy came to mummy." "And did he give it to daddy, too, to be his little girl?" "Yes," said Majendie, "I was wondering where I came in." "Yes. He gave it to daddy to be his little girl, too."