And, indeed, that was exactly what she did think.
'My Lamb, my precious! Come to mother,' she cried, and jumped up and ran to the baby.
She was so quick that the invisible children had to leap back, or she would have felt them; and to feel what you can't see is the worst sort of ghost-feeling.

Mother picked up the Lamb and hurried away from the pinewood.
'Let's go home,' said Jane, after a miserable silence.

'It feels just exactly as if mother didn't love us.' But they couldn't bear to go home till they had seen mother meet another lady, and knew that she was safe.

You cannot leave your mother to go green in the face in a distant pinewood, far from all human aid, and then go home on your wishing carpet as though nothing had happened.
When mother seemed safe the children returned to the carpet, and said 'Home'-- and home they went.
'I don't care about being invisible myself,' said Cyril, 'at least, not with my own family.

It would be different if you were a prince, or a bandit, or a burglar.' And now the thoughts of all four dwelt fondly on the dear greenish face of mother.
'I wish she hadn't gone away,' said Jane; 'the house is simply beastly without her.' 'I think we ought to do what she said,' Anthea put in.