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 damned 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 buttoned 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 passed 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.  Nobody was ever annoyed with Peggy.