"Well, Peggy?" said Hal eagerly.
"It was a——" Oh dear, interrupted again! But this time the interruption was a blessing in disguise. It was nurse come to fetch Baby for his morning sleep.
"And thank you, Miss Peggy, my dear, for keeping him so nice and good. I heard you come up, and I knew they'd be all right with you," she said, as she walked away with Baby, who was by no means sure that he wanted to go.
"Now," said Hal, edging closer to Peggy, "we'll be comfable. Go on, Peggy—what she sawed."
"It was a hill—far, far away, neely as far as the sky," said Peggy in a mysterious tone. "When the sun comed she could see it plain—the hill and what was there, but when the sun goed she couldn't. There was a white spot on the hill, Hal, and that white spot was a lovely white cottage. She knowed it, though she'd never see'd it."
"How did she know it?"
"Her mam—no, that's wrong, she hadn't no mamma—well, never mind, somebody'd told her."
"Were it God?" asked Hal, in an awestruck whisper.
"I don't know. No, I don't think so. I think it's a little naughty to say that, Hal. No, dear, don't cry," for signs of disturbance were visible in Hal's round face. "You didn't mean, and it isn't never naughty when we don't mean, you know. We'll go on about the little girl. She knowed it was a lovely cottage, and she wanted very much, as much as could be, to go there, for the big house wasn't pretty, and it was dark, nearly black, and the cottage was all white."
"Her house wasn't as nice as zit, were it? Zit house isn't b'ack," said Hal.