“This is where Peter Pan lives,” said Jessie. “I’ll light the candles and you can see the lake better. That pile of moss over there is Peter Pan’s bed. I haven’t any table for him yet. I am hunting for a nice little square block of wood, or a smooth round stone would do. I haven’t really finished the grotto yet Don’t you think it is right pretty?”
“It is perfectly beautiful,” said Adele enthusiastically. “I don’t see how you did it. Oh, won’t you let me come and play with you sometimes?”
Jessie felt that she was very generous to be sharing her secrets with a stranger, but when she remembered that Adele was motherless she felt that anything she could do to give her pleasure would be a small thing, so she responded cordially, “Why, of course.”
“I haven’t any little doll like Peter Pan,” Adele went on, “but maybe a paper doll would do till I could get the right kind.”
“A paper doll would do very well and you could call her Wendy,” said Jessie with satisfaction.
“Why?”
“Oh, don’t you know Peter Pan? I thought every one did,” said Jessie in surprise.
“Please tell me.”
“All right, I will. I know all about him. When I went to see Aunt Lucy last winter she took me to see Peter Pan, and oh, it was the loveliest thing you can imagine. Sit down here and I will tell you.” Adele did as she was told and Jessie launched forth into her story, Adele listening attentively.
But before the story was finished a shrill whistle sounded from the house. “Oh, dear,” said Jessie jumping up, “I must go. That is for me.”