Peter danced around the nursery with joy, and Tinker Bell followed his every move.
They ignored Mr. Darling asleep in Nana's dog house.
Peter peeked into the other room to see who was playing the piano.
He whispered to Tink, "That's Wendy's mother.
She's a pretty lady, but not as pretty as Wendy."
All of a sudden, the music stopped, and Peter saw that Mrs. Darling was crying.
Her heart seemed to be broken.
"She wants me to open the window," thought Peter, "but I won't!"
Peter took a step closer and saw the tears shining on her cheeks.
"She's awfully fond of Wendy," he thought.
Then he said stubbornly, "But so am I!"
Mrs. Darling continued to cry, and Peter couldn't look at her anymore.
He skipped about and made funny faces, but this didn't help.
He began to feel sorry for her.
"Oh, all right," he said at last and opened the window.
"Come on, Tink," he called. "We don't want any silly mothers anyway."
And he and Tinker Bell flew out the window again.
When Wendy, John, and Michael arrived, they found the window open, just as Mrs. Darling had left it for them.
They flew in and looked around.
Everything in the nursery looked very familiar.
"I think I've been here before," said Michael.
"Of course you have, silly. There is your old bed," said Wendy, pointing.
"So it is," said Michael, as though he really remembered.
"And look," cried John, "there's Nana's dog house.
Perhaps Nana is in there." He went to look.
"There's a man inside!" he said in a surprised voice.
"It's Father!" cried Wendy.
"Let me look at him," Michael begged. He took a good look.
"He's not as big as the pirate I killed in Neverland," he said with disappointment.
Thankfully, Mr. Darling was still asleep and did not hear him.
"Surely," said John, who had lost faith in his own memory, "Father didn't always sleep in a dog house."
Just then Mrs. Darling started to play the piano again.
"That must be Mother," cried Wendy.
"Then you're not really our mother, Wendy?" asked Michael.
Wendy looked at Michael in a wistful way and patted his head.
"Let's surprise Mother," suggested John.
"We'll put our hands over her eyes and ask her to guess who we are."
Wendy thought they should break the news more gently.
"Let's get into our beds," she suggested.
"We'll be there when she comes in, as if we had never left."
The children all ran to their beds and jumped between the sheets, pulling the covers up to their chins.
When Mrs. Darling went back to the nursery to see if her husband was still asleep, all the beds were filled.
The children waited for her cry of joy, but it didn't come.
She had dreamed so many times that her children were still in their beds that she thought this was just another dream.
As she had often done before, she sat in the chair by the fire and closed her eyes.
The children were disappointed. "Mother!" cried Wendy.
"That's Wendy," said Mrs. Darling, sure it was her dream.
"Mother!" cried John.
"That's John," she said.
"Mother!" cried Michael. He knew her now.
"That's Michael," she said.
Then she opened her eyes.
And all three children jumped out of bed and ran into her arms.
"George, George!" she cried, "The children are back!"
Mr. Darling woke up in the dog house and Nana came rushing in.
It was a beautiful sight.
So beautiful, in fact, that it would have warmed the heart of anyone who looked on.
But no one else was watching, no one except for a little boy staring through the window.