Peter was certain that she had never seen her companion before but felt that she also was searching and, in a way, believed that they were perhaps both seeking the same thing. Unlike many dreams Peter found that she had lost the power of speech. So, without words, the two girls ran on down the slope while a bitter wind whistled round them and swayed the branches of the trees in the spinney below. The country was wild and desolate and Peter was sure that she had never seen it before.

At last they reached the trees and stood, still without words, while the strong wind at their backs moaned through the tree tops. For a long minute Peter felt that they were both waiting for something to happen, for suddenly even the wind died away and the trees around them stood still like silent sentinels. Then the girl at her side broke the spell by stepping forward to where they could see, between the trees, a rough cart-track winding downhill. She clutched Peter's arm and pointed ahead, and suddenly Peter felt that the ugly, grey-walled house in the hollow below them was one of the things for which she had been searching.

What did she want in this strange house? What secret was it keeping from her and why did she feel so strongly even now that she must go down to the big double gates set in the high stone walls to see what else she could discover?

Without a word to each other the two girls left the whispering trees behind them and went on down the cart-track together. And as they went it seemed to Peter that the light was changing, and before they had gone many yards the dream country was bathed in silver moonlight. Another few steps and the sky was flecked with scarlet, and when she turned to look over her shoulder Peter saw that all the moorland behind was on fire. Without either fear or surprise the two girls stood and watched the trees in the spinney flare up like giant torches and then, as the cruel wind swept the flames down towards them and the strange house, Peter woke.

It was very cold. As usual her bedroom window was open, and the curtains were rustling gently in the wind. Her window, under the eaves, faced east and as she turned over and snuggled down in the warm bed, Peter saw that the sun was up and knew that it must be just after eight o'clock. She was just slipping back into sleep again when she heard footsteps on the stairs, and her bedroom door was opened. She sat up in bed.

"Daddy! You've brought me a cup of tea."

Mr Sterling smiled slowly at his daughter over the top of his spectacles.

"So you are awake, my dear... Good morning. And what are you going to do to-day?"