"Peggy, darling, what do you mean?"

"You're so quick." She laid her face against one of Majendie's coats and stroked it. "Must daddy's things go away?"

"Yes, darling. Why don't you want them to go?"

"Because I love them. I love all his little coats and hats and shoes and things."

"Oh, Peggy, Peggy, you're a little sentimentalist. Go and see what Nanna's got there."

Nanna had given a cry of joyous discovery. "Look, ma'am," said she, "what I've found in master's portmanteau."

Nanna came forward, shaking out a child's frock. A frock of pure white silk, embroidered round the neck and wrists with a deep border of daisies, pink and white and gold.

"Nanna!"

"Oh, mummy, what is it?"

Peggy touched a daisy with her soft forefinger and shrank back shyly. She knew it was her birthday, but she did not know whether the frock had anything to do with that, or no.

"I wonder," said Anne, "what little girl daddy brought that for."

"Did daddy bring it?"

"Yes, daddy brought it. Do you think he meant it for her birthday, Nanna?"

"Well, m'm, he may have meant it for her birthday last year. I found it stuffed into 'is portmanteau wot 'e took with him in the yacht a year ago. It's bin there--poked away in the cupboard, ever since. I suppose he bought it, meaning to give it to Miss Peggy, and put it away and forgot all about it. See, m'm"--Nanna measured the frock against Peggy's small figure--"it'd 'a' bin too large for her, last birthday. It'll just fit her now, m'm."

"Oh, Peggy!" said Anne. "She must put it on. Quick, Nanna. You shall wear it, my pet, and surprise daddy."

"What fun!" said Peggy.

"_Is_n't it fun?" Anne was as gay and as happy as Peggy. She was smiling her pretty smile.

Peggy was solemnly arrayed in the little frock. The borders of daisies showed like a necklace and bracelets against her white skin.

"Well, m'm," said Nanna, "if master did forget, he knew what he was about, at the time, anyhow. It's the very frock for her."

"Yes. See, Peggy--it's daisies, marguerites. That's why daddy chose it--for your little name, darling, do you see?"

"My name," said Peggy softly, moved by the wonder and beauty of her frock.

"There he is, Peggy! Run down and show yourself."

"Oh, muvver," shrieked Peggy, "it will be a surprise for daddy, won't it?"

She ran down. They followed, and leaned over the bannisters to listen to the surprise. They heard Peggy's laugh as she came to the last flight of stairs and showed herself to her father. They heard her shriek "Daddy!

daddy!" Then there was calm.

Then Peggy's voice dropped from its high joy and broke. "Oh, daddy, are you angry with me?"

Anne came downstairs. Majendie had the child in his arms and was kissing her.

"Are you angry with me, daddy?" she repeated.

"No, my sweetheart, no." He looked up at Anne. He was very pale, and a sweat was on his forehead. "Who put that frock on her?"

"I did," said Anne.

"I think you'd better take it off again," he said quietly.

Anne raised her eyebrows as a sign to him to look at Peggy's miserable mouth. "Oh, let her wear it," she said. "It's her birthday."

Majendie wiped his forehead and turned aside into the study.

"Muvver," said Peggy, as they went hand in hand upstairs again; "do you think daddy _really meant_ it as a surprise for _me_?"

"I think he must have done, darling."

"Aren't you sorry we spoiled his surprise, mummy?"

"I don't think he minds, Peggy."

"_I_ think he does. Why did he look angry, and say I was to take it off?"

"Perhaps, because it's rather too nice a frock for every day."

"My birthday isn't every day," said Peggy.

So Peggy wore the frock that Maggie had made for her and given to Majendie last year. He had hidden it in his portmanteau, meaning to give it to Mrs. Ransome at Christmas. And he had thrown the portmanteau into the darkest corner of the cupboard, and gone away and forgotten all about it.

And now the sight of Maggie's handiwork had given him a shock. For his sin was heavy upon him. Every day he went in fear of discovery. Anne would ask him where he had got that frock, and he would have to lie to her. And it would be no use; for, sooner or later, she would know that he had lied; and she would track Maggie down by the frock.

He hated to see his innocent child dressed in the garment which was a token and memorial of his sin. He wished he had thrown the d.a.m.ned thing into the Humber.

But Anne had no suspicion. Her face was smooth and tranquil as she came downstairs. She was calling Peggy her "little treasure," and her eyes were smiling as she looked at the frail, small, white and gold creature, stepping daintily and shyly in her delicate dress.

Peggy was b.u.t.toned into a little white coat to keep her warm; and they set out, Majendie carrying the luncheon basket, and Peggy an enormous doll.

Peggy enjoyed the journey. When she was not talking to Majendie she was singing a little song to keep the doll quiet, so that the time pa.s.sed very quickly both for her and him. There were other people in the carriage, and Anne was afraid they would be annoyed at Peggy's singing.

But they seemed to like it as much as she and Majendie. n.o.body was ever annoyed with Peggy.

In Westleydale the beech trees were in golden leaf. It was green underfoot and on the folding hills. Overhead it was limitless blue above the uplands; and above the woods, among the golden tree-tops, clear films and lacing veins and brilliant spots of blue.

Majendie felt Peggy's hand tighten on his hand. Her little body was trembling with delight.

They found the beech tree under which he and Anne had once sat. He looked at her. And she, remembering, half turned her face from him; and, as she stooped and felt for a soft dry place for the child to sit on, she smiled, half unconsciously, a shy and tender smile.

Then he saw, beside her half-turned face, the face of another woman, smiling, shyly and tenderly, another smile; and his heart smote him with the sorrow of his sin.