Hoodie Part 23

"That was very nice," said Magdalen.

"We didn't let Hec and Duke go," said Hoodie, "for they'd have wanted to touch the bird, wouldn't they? They're so little, you see, and Hec says he likes smooving down the feavers on little birds's backs, so Martin and me thought we'd better not let them be temptationed to touch the bird."

"Ah, yes, that was very wise. And as Martin stayed with you, you weren't temptationed either, were you, Hoodie?"

Somewhat to her surprise, at this Hoodie grew rather red.

"I didn't stay all the time, Miss," said Martin. "I heard the little boys calling me, so I left Miss Hoodie for a minute or two feeling sure I might trust her."

"So there's nothing to prevent my giving you the cage. That's very nice," said Magdalen. She lifted the funny-looking parcel on to the table and unfastened the paper. There stood the cage--and such a pretty one! It was painted white and green, and greatly and specially to Hoodie's satisfaction the pointed tops of the paG.o.da-like roof were gilt.

"Didn't I tell you so," she said to Duke in a tone of great superiority, "I told you there'd be goldy points on the top."

"Yes," said Duke, much impressed; "I wonder how you knowed, Hoodie?"

Hoodie tossed her head.

"Knowed, in course I knowed," she said.

Only Hec did not seem as much interested and delighted as the others. He just glanced at the cage and then subsided again to his bread and honey.

"What's the matter with Hec?" said Cousin Magdalen. "He doesn't look as bright as usual, does he, Martin?"

"He's been very quiet all the afternoon," said Martin, "but I don't think he can be ill. He's eaten a good tea, hasn't he, Miss Maudie?"

"_Very_," said Maudie. "Three big slices first--only with b.u.t.ter, you know, and then six with honey. We always have to eat three plain first, on honey days," she added by way of explanation to her cousin.

"_Nine_ slices," said Magdalen, opening her eyes. "Martin, isn't that enough to make him ill?"

"Bless you, no, Miss," said Martin, laughing. "As long as it's bread and b.u.t.ter, there's not much fear."

"Or bread and honey," corrected Hoodie. "One day Duke and Hec and me--Maudie wasn't there--one day Duke and Hec and me eatened firty-two slices--Martin counted. It was when we was at the seaside."

"My dear Hoodie!" exclaimed Magdalen, and the astonishment on her face made them all laugh.

The consumption of bread and b.u.t.ter and honey seemed however over for the present, so Magdalen led the way to her own room, followed by Hoodie carrying the precious cage which she would entrust to no other hands, Maudie, the twins, and Martin bringing up the rear.

Magdalen opened the door and crossed the room, which was a large one, to the side window, on the writing-table, in front of which, she had left the basket containing the bird. She had placed it carefully, with a little circle of books round it to prevent the bird's fluttering knocking it over. As she came near the table, she gave an exclamation of surprise and vexation. The circle of books was still there undisturbed, but the basket was no longer in the centre--indeed, at the first glance Magdalen could not see it at all.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed. "Where can the basket be? Hoodie, you _surely_ didn't touch it?"

The moment she had said the words she regretted them--but just at first she had not time to look at Hoodie to see how she had taken them, for another glance at the table showed her the basket peeping up behind the edge where it had slipped down, though fortunately the table was pushed too near the wall for it to have fallen quite on to the floor.

Magdalen darted forward and carefully drew out the basket, in considerable fear and trembling as to the state of the little bird inside. But to her relief it seemed all right. It had had another fright, no doubt, poor thing--it must have thought life a very queer series of falls and b.u.mps and knocks, I should think, judging by its own experience, but still it seemed to have a happy faculty of recovering itself, and though its position in the toppled-over basket could not have been very comfortable, it looked quite bright and chirpy when Magdalen gently lifted the lid to examine it.

"It is hungry, I'm sure," she said; "can't you give me a little bread soaked in milk for it again, Martin. There's some milk on the nursery table, isn't there?"

"To be sure, Miss," said Martin, starting off at once. To her surprise, as she left the room she felt a hand slipped into hers. It was Hoodie's.

"I'll go with you," said the child, and Martin, thinking she only wanted to go with her to see about the bread and milk, made no objection. It was not till they reached the nursery that Martin noticed the expression of the little girl's face. It was stormy in the extreme.

"I won't go back to Maudie's G.o.dmother's room," she exclaimed. "I won't have the cage. I won't speak to her--nasty, _ugly_ Maudie's G.o.dmother."

"Miss Hoodie!" said Martin, in amazement and distress. "You speaking that naughty way of your cousin who has been so very nice and kind to you."

"I don't care," said Hoodie, fairly on the way to one of her grandest tempers, "_I_ don't care. She's not nice and kind. She doesn't believe what I say. I _toldened_ her I didn't touch the basket, and she said I did."

"Oh no, Miss Hoodie, my dear, I'm sure she didn't say that. She only asked you if you were quite sure you didn't. And who could have done it, I'm sure I can't think," said Martin, herself by no means satisfied that Hoodie's indignation was not a sign of her knowing herself to blame. "No one was in the room but you and me this afternoon, for none of the servants ever go near it till dressing time. Besides, they wouldn't go touching the bird. If it had been one of the little boys now. It's just what they might have done, reaching up to get it. But they weren't there at all."

"_I_ don't care," reiterated Hoodie. "I didn't do it, but Maudie's G.o.dmother doesn't believe me. _I_ don't care. But I won't have the cage." And in spite of all Martin could say, the child resolutely refused to leave the nursery.

Hoodie sat there alone, nursing her wrath and bitter feelings.

"_I_ don't care," she kept repeating to herself. "n.o.body likes me. I'm alvays naughty. What's the good of being good? I did so want to touch the bird when Martin went out of the room and left me alone, but I didn't, 'cos I'd p'omised. I might as well, 'cos Maudie's G.o.dmother doesn't believe me. It's very unkind of G.o.d to make it seem that I'm alvays naughty. It's not my fault. _I_ don't care."

In Magdalen's room Martin was relating Hoodie's indignation.

"Oh, how sorry I am for saying that," said Magdalen. "It will just make her lose her trust in me. And I do believe her. I'm sure she didn't touch it. Don't you think so, Martin?"

Martin hesitated.

"Yes, Miss, I do think I believe her. Only didn't you notice how red she got when I said I wasn't with her _all_ the time in your room this afternoon?"

"Yes," said Magdalen; "but I thought it was just that she felt so eager for me to know she had kept her promise. I _don't_ think she touched it, Martin. I really don't. But I am afraid it will be difficult to make her believe I don't."

Just then a sudden sound of weeping made them all start, thinking for a moment that it must be Hoodie herself, who had run back from the nursery. But no--it was not Hoodie--it was Hec. The little fellow had crept under the table un.o.bserved, and there had been listening to the conversation.

"What's the matter, dear? What's the matter, my darling? Don't cry so, Master Hec," said Martin, as she drew him out.

"Poor Hec! Poor little Hec! Has he hurt himself?" exclaimed all the others.

"No, no, I hasn't hurt myself," sobbed Hec. "I'm crying 'cos it was _me_. It was _me_ that tumbled the basket down, and Cousin Magdalen 'colded Hoodie. It wasn't poor Hoodie. It was all me."

And for some minutes, conscience-stricken Hec refused to be comforted.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hec refused to be comforted]

CHAPTER X.

FLOWN.

"One flew away, and then there was none."

THREE LITTLE BIRDS.