All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, andthe way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she wasplaying in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to hermother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darlingput her hand to her heart and cried, 'Oh, why can't you remain like this forever!' This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforthWendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two isthe beginning of the end.
Of course they lived at 14, and untilWendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with aromantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like thetiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, howevermany you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth hadone kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectlyconspicuous in the right-hand corner.
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