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1All the boys were grown up and done for by this time; so it is scarcely worth while saying anything more about them. You
2may see the twins and Nibs and Curly any day going to an office, each carrying a little bag and an umbrella. Michael is
3an engine-driver. Slightly married a lady of title, and so he became a lord. You see that judge in a wig coming out at
4the iron door? That used to be Tootles. The bearded man who doesn't know any story to tell his children was once John.
5Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. It is strange to think that Peter did not alight in the church and forbid
6the banns. Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.
7She was called Jane, and always had an odd inquiring look, as if from the moment she arrived on the mainland she wanted
8to ask questions. When she was old enough to ask them they were mostly about Peter Pan. She loved to hear of Peter, and
9Wendy told her all she could remember in the very nursery from which the famous flight had taken place. It was Jane's
10nursery now, for her father had bought it at the three per cents from Wendy's father, who was no longer fond of stairs.
11Mrs. Darling was now dead and forgotten. There were only two beds in the nursery now, Jane's and her nurse's; and there
12was no kennel, for Nana also had passed away. She died of old age, and at the end she had been rather difficult to get
13on with; being very firmly convinced that no one knew how to look after children except herself. Once a week Jane's
14nurse had her evening off; and then it was Wendy's part to put Jane to bed. That was the time for stories. It was Jane's
15invention to raise the sheet over her mother's head and her own, thus making a tent, and in the awful darkness to
16whisper: "What do we see now?" "I don't think I see anything to-night," says Wendy, with a feeling that if Nana were
17here she would object to further conversation. "Yes, you do," says Jane, "you see when you were a little girl." "That is
18a long time ago, sweetheart," says Wendy. "Ah me, how time flies!" "Does it fly," asks the artful child, "the way you
19flew when you were a little girl?" "The way I flew? Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I ever did really
20fly." "Yes, you did." "The dear old days when I could fly!" "Why can't you fly now, mother?" "Because I am grown up,
21dearest. When people grow up they forget the way." "Why do they forget the way?" "Because they are no longer gay and
22innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly." "What is gay and innocent and
23heartless? I do wish I were gay and innocent and heartless." Or perhaps Wendy admits she does see something. "I do
24believe," she says, "that it is this nursery." "I do believe it is," says Jane. "Go on." They are now embarked on the
25great adventure of the night when Peter flew in looking for his shadow. "The foolish fellow," says Wendy, "tried to
26stick it on with soap, and when he could not he cried, and that woke me, and I sewed it on for him." "You have missed a
27bit," interrupts Jane, who now knows the story better than her mother. "When you saw him sitting on the floor crying,
28what did you say?" "I sat up in bed and I said, 'Boy, why are you crying?'" "Yes, that was it," says Jane, with a big
29breath. "And then he flew us all away to the Neverland and the fairies and the pirates and the redskins and the
30mermaids' lagoon, and the home under the ground, and the little house." "Yes! which did you like best of all?" "I think
31I liked the home under the ground best of all." "Yes, so do I. What was the last thing Peter ever said to you?" "The
32last thing he ever said to me was, 'Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing.'"
33"Yes." "But, alas, he forgot all about me," Wendy said it with a smile. She was as grown up as that. "What did his crow
34sound like?" Jane asked one evening. "It was like this," Wendy said, trying to imitate Peter's crow. "No, it wasn't,"
35Jane said gravely, "it was like this;" and she did it ever so much better than her mother. Wendy was a little startled.
36"My darling, how can you know?" "I often hear it when I am sleeping," Jane said. "Ah yes, many girls hear it when they
37are sleeping, but I was the only one who heard it awake." "Lucky you," said Jane. And then one night came the tragedy.
38It was the spring of the year, and the story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in her bed. Wendy was
39sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as to see to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and
40while she sat darning she heard a crow. Then the window blew open as of old, and Peter dropped in on the floor. He was
41exactly the same as ever, and Wendy saw at once that he still had all his first teeth. He was a little boy, and she was
42grown up. She huddled by the fire not daring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman. "Hullo, Wendy," he said, not
43noticing any difference, for he was thinking chiefly of himself; and in the dim light her white dress might have been
44the nightgown in which he had seen her first. "Hullo, Peter," she replied faintly, squeezing herself as small as
45possible. Something inside her was crying "Woman, Woman, let go of me." "Hullo, where is John?" he asked, suddenly
46missing the third bed. "John is not here now," she gasped. "Is Michael asleep?" he asked, with a careless glance at
47Jane. "Yes," she answered; and now she felt that she was untrue to Jane as well as to Peter. "That is not Michael," she
48said quickly, lest a judgment should fall on her. Peter looked. "Hullo, is it a new one?" "Yes." "Boy or girl?" "Girl."
49Now surely he would understand; but not a bit of it. "Peter," she said, faltering, "are you expecting me to fly away
50with you?" "Of course; that is why I have come." He added a little sternly, "Have you forgotten that this is spring
51cleaning time?" She knew it was useless to say that he had let many spring cleaning times pass. "I can't come," she said
52apologetically, "I have forgotten how to fly." "I'll soon teach you again." "O Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me."
53She had risen; and now at last a fear assailed him. "What is it?" he cried, shrinking. "I will turn up the light," she
54said, "and then you can see for yourself." For almost the only time in his life that I know of, Peter was afraid. "Don't
55turn up the light," he cried. She let her hands play in the hair of the tragic boy. She was not a little girl
56heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet-eyed smiles. Then she turned up the
57light, and Peter saw. He gave a cry of pain; and when the tall beautiful creature stooped to lift him in her arms he
58drew back sharply. "What is it?" he cried again. She had to tell him. "I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than
59twenty. I grew up long ago." "You promised not to!" "I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter." "No, you're not."
60"Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby." "No, she's not." But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards
61the sleeping child with his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down on the floor instead and sobbed;
62and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and
63she ran out of the room to try to think. Peter continued to cry, and soon his sobs woke Jane. She sat up in bed, and was
64interested at once. "Boy," she said, "why are you crying?" Peter rose and bowed to her, and she bowed to him from the
65bed. "Hullo," he said. "Hullo," said Jane. "My name is Peter Pan," he told her. "Yes, I know."
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