Peggy had been forbidden to touch the sugar basin ever since one very miserable day.

“Oh, Peggy, Peggy,” said her mother, “that was very naughty.”

“No, mummy, it wasn’t.  It wasn’t naughty ’t all.”

She pondered, gravely working out her case.  “I’d be sorry if it was naughty.”

Majendie laughed.

“If you laugh every time she’s naughty, how am I to make her learn?”

Majendie held out his hand.  “Come here, Peggy.”

Peggy came and cuddled against him, smiling sidelong mischief at her mother.

“Look here, Peggy, if you eat too much sugar, you’ll be ill; and if you’re ill, mummy’ll be unhappy.  See?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Peggy’s mouth shook; she turned, and hid her face against his breast.

“There, there,” he said, petting her.  “Look at mummy; she’s happy now.”

Peggy’s face peeped out, but it was not at her mother that she looked.

“Are you happy, daddy?”

He stooped, and kissed her, and left the room.

And then Peggy said, “I’m sorry, mummy.  Why did daddy go away?”

“I don’t know, darling.”

“Do you think he will come back again?”

“Darling, I don’t know.”

“You’d like him to come back, wouldn’t you, mummy?”

“Of course, Peggy.”

“Then I’ll go and tell him.”

She trotted downstairs to the study, and came back shaking her head sadly.

“Daddy isn’t coming.  Naughty daddy.”

“Why do you say that, Peggy?”

“Because he won’t come when you want him to.”

“Perhaps he’s busy.”

“Yes,” said Peggy thoughtfully.  “I fink he’s busy.”  She sat very quiet on a footstool, thinking.  “I fink,” she said presently, “I’d better go and tell daddy he isn’t naughty, else he’ll be dreff’ly unhappy.”

And she trotted downstairs and up again.

“Daddy sends his love, mummy, and he is busy.  S’all I take your love to him?”

That was how it went on, now Peggy was older.  That was how she made her mother’s heart ache.

Anne was in terror for the time when Peggy would begin to see.  For that, and for her own inability to teach her the stupendous difference between right and wrong.

But one day Peggy ran to her mother, crying as if her heart would break.

“Oh, muvver, muvver, kiss me,” she sobbed.  “I did kick daddy!  Kiss me.”

She flung her arms round Anne’s knees, as if clinging for protection against the pursuing vision of her sin.

“Hush, hush, darling,” said Anne.  “Perhaps daddy didn’t mind.”

But Peggy howled in agony.  “Y-y-yes, he did.  I hurted him, I hurted him.  He minded ever so.”

“My little one,” said Anne, “my little one!” and clung to her and comforted her.

She saw that Peggy’s little mind recognised no sin except the sin against love; that Peggy’s little heart could not conceive that love should refuse to forgive her and kiss her.