"Look at the two pairs of legs," said Majendie.
Anne sighed. Her Peggy showed very white and frail beside the red, lusty-legged daughter of the woods.
"I'm not at all happy about her," said she.
"Why not?"
"She gets so terribly tired."
"All children do, don't they?"
Anne shook her head. "Not as she does. It isn't a child's healthy tiredness. It doesn't come like that. It came on quite suddenly the other day, after she'd been excited; and her little lips turned grey."
"Get Gardner to look at her."
"I'm going to. He says she ought to be more in the open air. I wish we could get a cottage somewhere in the country, with a nice garden."
Majendie said nothing. He was thinking of Three Elms Farm, and the garden and the orchard, and of the pure wind that blew over them straight from the sea. He remembered how Maggie had said that the child would love it.