Hoodie Part 21

Magdalen, to tell the truth, found it rather difficult to keep her temper with Hoodie just then.

"_Hoodie_," she said sharply. "It is not right to speak like that. You _know_ you ran away out before I could stop you."

"But if you hadn't opened the door, I couldn't have goned," was Hoodie's calm reply, with mischievous triumph in her bright eyes.

Martin received the misfortune very philosophically--perhaps she was not sorry, at the bottom of her heart, that some one else should have some experience of the trials she had with Hoodie.

"Not that she means always to be naughty, of course, Miss," she explained to Magdalen. "But she's that heedless and tiresome--oh dear!

Though one could manage that if it wasn't for her queer temper--_queer_ indeed! queer's no word for it."

"Martin, Martin," came in Hoodie's shrill voice from the inner room, where she was sitting, minus the greater part of her attire, while Martin "aired" the clean clothes, unexpectedly required, at the nursery fire. "Martin, you must go down to the kitchen _at oncest_, and get some bread and milk for my bird. I'm going to keep it _alvays_, Martin, and you mustn't let Duke and Hec touch it never."

"Well, well, Missie, we'll see," said Martin; "you must get your Mamma's leave first, you know."

"By the bye, I'd better go and speak to her about it," said Magdalen.

"Shall I tell the other children to come up-stairs, Martin? And my poor letter," she said, smiling rather dolefully, as she went out of the nursery, "I'll never get it written before luncheon, for I must superintend the feeding of the bird, otherwise the children will certainly kill it with kindness."

Magdalen had a good deal of experience in rearing little birds and little lambs, and all such small unfortunates. She had always lived in the country, and having neither brothers nor sisters her tender heart had given its affections to the dumb creatures about her. It was fortunate for the foundling bird that it fell into her hands, as had it been left to Hoodie's affectionate cares its history would certainly have been quickly told. She was very indignant with Magdalen for the very tiny portions of bread and milk, which was all she would allow it to have, and asked her indignantly if she meant to "'tarve" the poor little pet.

"Hush, Hoodie," said her mother, who had come to see the little bird.

"If you speak so to Cousin Magdalen I certainly will not let you keep the bird. You should thank her _very_ much for being so kind to you and giving up all her morning to you."

Hoodie did not condescend to take any notice of her mother's reproof.

"Hoodie," said Mrs. Caryll, "do you not hear what I say?"

No reply.

"_Hoodie_," more sternly.

Hoodie looked up at last.

"Mamma dear," she said sweetly, "may I keep the little bird for my vezzy own? Cousin Magdalen said she would ask you if I might."

Her mother looked puzzled.

"If you are good perhaps I will let you keep it," she replied.

Hoodie looked up sharply.

"Did Cousin Magdalen ask you to let me keep it, Mamma?" she inquired.

"Yes," said her mother.

Hoodie turned to Magdalen.

"Thank you, Maudie's G.o.dmother," she said condescendingly. "I thought perhaps you had forgottened."

"And you wouldn't thank me till you were sure--was that it--eh, Hoodie?"

said Magdalen.

One of her funny twinkles came into Hoodie's green eyes.

"I like peoples what doesn't forget," she remarked, with a toss of her s.h.a.ggy head.

Magdalen turned away to hide her amus.e.m.e.nt, but Hoodie's mother whispered rather dolefully, "Magdalen, was there _ever_ such a child?"

And Hoodie heard the words, and her little face grew hard and sullen.

"I'm always naughty," she said to herself. "Naughty when I tell true, and naughty when I don't tell true. n.o.body loves me, but I'll teach my bird to love me."

"What is to be done about a cage for this little creature?" said Magdalen, looking up from her occupation of feeding the greenfinch with quillfuls of bread and milk. "Isn't there an old one anywhere about, that would do?"

"I'm afraid not," said Hoodie's mother. "What can we do?"

"Leave it in the basket for the present," said Magdalen. "And--if Hoodie is _very_ good, perhaps----"

"Perhaps what?" said Hoodie, very eagerly.

"Perhaps some kind fairy will fly down with a cage for the poor little bird," said Magdalen, mysteriously.

Again Hoodie's eyes twinkled with fun.

"_I_ know who the kind fairy will be," she said, skipping about in delight. Then suddenly she flung herself upon her cousin and hugged her valorously.

"I do love _you_, Cousin Magdalen," she whispered. "I do. I _do_. And I'd love Mamma too," she added--her mother having left the room--"if she wouldn't _alvays_ say I'm naughty."

"But Hoodie, my dear little girl, do you really think you are always good?" said Magdalen.

"In course not," said Hoodie, "but I'm not _alvays_ naughty neither."

Just then the luncheon-bell rang, and the interesting discussion, greatly, it is to be feared, to Hoodie's satisfaction, could not be continued.

"You're going to be very good to-day, any way, aren't you, Hoodie?"

whispered Magdalen, as they went into the dining-room, where the children dined at the big people's luncheon.

"P'raps," replied Hoodie.

"Because you know the kind fairy can't give you the cage if you're not,"

said Magdalen, smiling.

"I forgot about that," observed Hoodie, coolly.

And her behaviour during the meal left nothing to be desired. But to do her justice, her naughtiness did not as a rule show itself in such circ.u.mstances, and according to Martin this was the "provokingest" part of it. "That a little lady who could be so pretty behaved if she chose should stamp and scream and rage like a little wild bear"--though where Martin had seen these wonderful performances of little wild bears, I am sorry to say I cannot tell you--_was_ aggravating, there is no doubt.

And as Magdalen watched Hoodie through luncheon, and saw her pretty way of handling her knife and fork, and noticed how she never asked for anything but waited till it was offered her, never forgot her "if you please's" and "thank you's," and was always perfectly content with whatever was given her, she repeated to herself in other words Martin's often expressed opinion.

"What a nice child she might be! What a nice child she _is_, when she likes! Oh, Hoodie, what a pity it is that you ever let the little black dog climb on to your shoulders or the little cross imps get into your heart!"