And Peggy set off upstairs in great content. The white spot would give her more pleasure than ever, now that she knew what sort of real fancies to have about it.
"And to-morrow," she said to herself, "to-morrow mamma will tell me more, lots more. If I say my lessons very goodly, p'raps mamma will tell me some more every day. And p'raps Hallie would like those kinds better than about fairies, and wouldn't call them nonsense stories."
Poor little Peggy—"to-morrow" brought news which put her pretty fancies about the white cottage out of her head for a while.
She gave her mother's message to nurse, and after dinner nurse went downstairs. When she came up again she looked rather grave, and Peggy thought perhaps she was unhappy about Hal, who was still cross and had bright red spots on his cheeks.
"Does you think poor Hallie is ill, nurse?" asked Peggy in a low voice, for Hal not to hear.
"No, my dear, it's only his teeth. But they'll make him fractious for a while, I'm afraid, and he's not a very strong child, not near so strong as Baby and the big boys."
"Poor Hallie," said Peggy, with great sympathy. "I'll be very good to him even if he is very cross, nurse."
Nurse did not answer for a minute, and she still looked very grave.
"Why do you look so sad, nurse, if it isn't about Hal?" asked Peggy, impatiently.
"Did I look sad, Miss Peggy? I didn't know it. I was thinking about some things your mamma was speaking of to me."