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Mrs. Darling screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door `
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opened, and Nana entered, returned from her evening out. She `
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growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly through the `
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window. Again Mrs. Darling screamed, this time in distress for `
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him, for she thought he was killed, and she ran down into the `
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street to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she `
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looked up, and in the black night she could see nothing but what `
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she thought was a shooting star. `
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She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in `
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her mouth, which proved to be the boy's shadow. As he leapt at `
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the window Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but `
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his shadow had not had time to get out; slam went the window and `
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snapped it off. `
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You may be sure Mrs. Darling examined the shadow carefully, but `
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it was quite the ordinary kind. `
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Nana had no doubt of what was the best thing to do with this `
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shadow. She hung it out at the window, meaning "He is sure to `
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come back for it; let us put it where he can get it easily `
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without disturbing the children." `
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But unfortunately Mrs. Darling could not leave it hanging out `
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at the window, it looked so like the washing and lowered the `
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whole tone of the house. She thought of showing it to Mr. `
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Darling, but he was totting up winter great-coats for John and `
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Michael, with a wet towel around his head to keep his brain `
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clear, and it seemed a shame to trouble him; besides, she knew `
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exactly what he would say: "It all comes of having a dog for a `
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nurse." `
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She decided to roll the shadow up and put it away carefully in `
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a drawer, until a fitting opportunity came for telling her `
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husband. Ah me! `
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The opportunity came a week later, on that never-to-be- `
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forgotten Friday. Of course it was a Friday. `
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"I ought to have been specially careful on a Friday," she used `
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to say afterwards to her husband, while perhaps Nana was on the `
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other side of her, holding her hand. `
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"No, no," Mr. Darling always said, "I am responsible for it `
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all. I, George Darling, did it. MEA CULPA, MEA CULPA." He had `
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had a classical education. `
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They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday, `
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till every detail of it was stamped on their brains and came `
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through on the other side like the faces on a bad coinage. `
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"If only I had not accepted that invitation to dine at 27," `
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Mrs. Darling said. `
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"If only I had not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl," said `
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Mr. Darling. `
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"If only I had pretended to like the medicine," was what Nana's `
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wet eyes said. `
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"My liking for parties, George." `
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"My fatal gift of humour, dearest." `
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"My touchiness about trifles, dear master and mistress." `
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Then one or more of them would break down altogether; Nana at `
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the thought, "It's true, it's true, they ought not to have had a `
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dog for a nurse." Many a time it was Mr. Darling who put the `
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handkerchief to Nana's eyes. `
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"That fiend!" Mr. Darling would cry, and Nana's bark was the `
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echo of it, but Mrs. Darling never upbraided Peter; there was `
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something in the right-hand corner of her mouth that wanted her `
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not to call Peter names. `
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They would sit there in the empty nursery, recalling fondly `
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every smallest detail of that dreadful evening. It had begun so `
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uneventfully, so precisely like a hundred other evenings, with `
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Nana putting on the water for Michael's bath and carrying him to `
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it on her back. `
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"I won't go to bed," he had shouted, like one who still `
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believed that he had the last word on the subject, "I won't, I `
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won't. Nana, it isn't six o'clock yet. Oh dear, oh dear, I `
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shan't love you any more, Nana. I tell you I won't be bathed, I `
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won't, I won't!" `
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Then Mrs. Darling had come in, wearing her white evening-gown. `
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She had dressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her `
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evening-gown, with the necklace George had given her. She was `
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wearing Wendy's bracelet on her arm; she had asked for the loan `
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of it. Wendy loved to lend her bracelet to her mother. `
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She had found her two older children playing at being herself `
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and father on the occasion of Wendy's birth, and John was saying: `
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"I am happy to inform you, Mrs. Darling, that you are now a `
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mother," in just such a tone as Mr. Darling himself may have used `
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on the real occasion. `
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Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must `
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have done. `
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Then John was born, with the extra pomp that he conceived due `
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to the birth of a male, and Michael came from his bath to ask to `
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be born also, but John said brutally that they did not want any `
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more. `
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Michael had nearly cried. "Nobody wants me," he said, and of `
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course the lady in the evening-dress could not stand that. `
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"I do," she said, "I so want a third child." `
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"Boy or girl?" asked Michael, not too hopefully. `
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"Boy." `
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Then he had leapt into her arms. Such a little thing for Mr. `
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and Mrs. Darling and Nana to recall now, but not so little if `
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that was to be Michael's last night in the nursery. `
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They go on with their recollections. `
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"It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn't it?" Mr. `
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Darling would say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like `
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a tornado. `
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Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been `
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dressing for the party, and all had gone well with him until he `
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came to his tie. It is an astounding thing to have to tell, but `
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this man, though he knew about stocks and shares, had no real `
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mastery of his tie. Sometimes the thing yielded to him without a `
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contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better `
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for the house if he had swallowed his pride and used a made-up `
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tie. `
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This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery `
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with the crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand. `
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"Why, what is the matter, father dear?" `
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"Matter!" he yelled; he really yelled. "This tie, it will not `
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tie." He became dangerously sarcastic. "Not round my neck! `
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Round the bed-post! Oh yes, twenty times have I made it up round `
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the bed-post, but round my neck, no! Oh dear no! begs to be `
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excused!" `
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He thought Mrs. Darling was not sufficiently impressed, and he `
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went on sternly, "I warn you of this, mother, that unless this `
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tie is round my neck we don't go out to dinner to-night, and if I `
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don't go out to dinner to-night, I never go to the office again, `
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and if I don't go to the office again, you and I starve, and our `
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children will be flung into the streets." `
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Even then Mrs. Darling was placid. "Let me try, dear," she `
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said, and indeed that was what he had come to ask her to do, and `
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with her nice cool hands she tied his tie for him, while the `
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children stood around to see their fate decided. Some men would `
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have resented her being able to do it so easily, but Mr. Darling `
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had far too fine a nature for that; he thanked her carelessly, at `
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once forgot his rage, and in another moment was dancing round the `
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room with Michael on his back. `
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"How wildly we romped!" says Mrs. Darling now, recalling it. `
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"Our last romp!" Mr. Darling groaned. `
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"O George, do you remember Michael suddenly said to me, `How `
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did you get to know me, mother?'" `
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"I remember!" `
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"They were rather sweet, don't you think, George?" `
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"And they were ours, ours! and now they are gone." `
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The romp had ended with the appearance of Nana, and most `
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unluckily Mr. Darling collided against her, covering his trousers `
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with hairs. They were not only new trousers, but they were the `
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first he had ever had with braid on them, and he had had to bite `
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his lip to prevent the tears coming. Of course Mrs. Darling `
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brushed him, but he began to talk again about its being a mistake `
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to have a dog for a nurse. `
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"George, Nana is a treasure." `
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"No doubt, but I have an uneasy feeling at times that she `
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looks upon the children as puppies." `
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"Oh no, dear one, I feel sure she knows they have souls." `
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"I wonder," Mr. Darling said thoughtfully, "I wonder." It was `
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an opportunity, his wife felt, for telling him about the boy. At `
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first he pooh-poohed the story, but he became thoughtful when she `
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showed him the shadow. `
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"It is nobody I know," he said, examining it carefully, "but it `
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does look a scoundrel." `
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