‘What do you mean by “O father”?’ Mr Darling demanded. ‘Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine, but I—I missed it.’

It was dreadful the way all the three were looking at him, just as if they did not admire him. ‘Look here, all of you,’ he said entreatingly, as soon as Nana had gone into the bathroom, ‘I have just thought of a splendid joke. I shall pour my medicine into Nana’s bowl, and she will drink it, thinking it is milk!’

It was the colour of milk; but the children did not have their father’s sense of humour, and they looked at him reproachfully as he poured the medicine into Nana’s bowl. ‘What fun,’ he said doubtfully, and they did not dare expose him when Mrs Darling and Nana returned.

‘Nana, good dog,’ he said, patting her. ‘I have put a little milk into your bowl, Nana.’

Nana wagged her tail, ran to the medicine, and began lapping it. Then she gave Mr Darling such a look, not an angry look: she showed him the great red tear that makes us so sorry for noble dogs, and crept into her kennel.

Mr Darling was frightfully ashamed of himself, but he would not give in. In a horrid silence Mrs Darling smelt the bowl. ‘O George,’ she said, ‘it’s your medicine!’

‘It was only a joke,’ he roared, while she comforted her boys, and Wendy hugged Nana. ‘Much good,’ he said bitterly, ‘my wearing myself to the bone trying to be funny in this house.’

And still Wendy hugged Nana. ‘That’s right,’ he shouted. ‘Coddle her! Nobody coddles me. Oh dear no! I am only the breadwinner, why should I be coddled, why, why, why!’

‘George,’ Mrs Darling entreated him, ‘not so loud; the servants will hear you.’ Somehow they had got into the way of calling Liza the servants.

‘Let them,’ he answered recklessly. ‘Bring in the whole world. But I refuse to allow that dog to lord it in my nursery for an hour longer.’

The children wept, and Nana ran to him beseechingly, but he waved her back. He felt he was a strong man again. ‘In vain, in vain,’ he cried; ‘the proper place for you is the yard, and there you go to be tied up this instant.’

‘George, George,’ Mrs Darling whispered, ‘remember what I told you about that boy.’

Alas, he would not listen. He was determined to show who was master in that house, and when commands would not draw Nana from the kennel, he lured her out of it with honeyed words, and seizing her roughly, dragged her from the nursery. He was ashamed of himself, and yet he did it. It was all owing to his too affectionate nature, which craved for admiration. When he had tied her up in the back-yard, the wretched father went and sat in the passage, with his knuckles to his eyes.

In the meantime Mrs Darling had put the children to bed in unwonted silence and lit their night-lights. They could hear Nana barking, and John whimpered, ‘It is because he is chaining her up in the yard,’ but Wendy was wiser.

‘That is not Nana’s unhappy bark,’ she said, little guessing what was about to happen; ‘that is her bark when she smells danger.’

Danger!

‘Are you sure, Wendy?’

‘Oh yes.’