Hoodie Part 24

Hoodie sat alone in the nursery, wrathful and sore. All the pleasure in the little bird and the beautiful cage seemed to have gone.

"I don't love her neither, not now," she said to herself. "I don't _think_--no, I really don't _think_ I love anybody, 'cos n.o.body loves me, and ev'ybody thinks I'm naughty. Never mind--I'll go away some day.

As soon as ever I'm big enough I'll go kite away and never come back again, and I sha'n't care what anybody says then."

There was some comfort though of a rather vague kind in this thought.

Hoodie sat swinging her legs backwards and forwards, while queer fancies of where she would go--what she would do, once she was "big enough,"

chased each other round her busy little brain.

Suddenly a sound in the pa.s.sage outside the nursery door made her look up just in time to see the door open and Magdalen, leading tearful Hec by the hand, followed by Maudie, Duke, and Martin, come in.

Hoodie looked up with some curiosity.

"Hoodie," said Magdalen, "Hec wants to tell you how sorry he is that you have got blamed on his account. It was he that touched the basket and knocked it over. He ran into my room to look at the bird without Martin's knowing he had left the nursery, and he was so afraid that he had hurt the little bird, by knocking it over, that he didn't like to tell. Kiss him and speak kindly to him, poor little boy, Hoodie dear. He has been so unhappy."

Hoodie gravely contemplated her little brother, but without giving any signs of obeying her cousin's request.

"_I_ have been unhappy too," she said, "and it wasn't my fault. It _was_ Hec's."

"Well, then," said Magdalen, "it should make you the more sorry for Hec.

He has had the unhappiness of knowing it _was_ his fault, which is the worst unhappiness of all."

Hoodie threw back her head.

"_I_ don't think so," she said. "I think the worst is when people alvays says you're naughty when you're not."

"I am sorry you thought I said you were naughty when you weren't, Hoodie," said Magdalen, "but you thought I meant more than I did. As soon as I thought about it quietly I felt sure you hadn't touched the basket--and even _more_ sure, that if you had been tempted to touch it, you would have said so."

"'Cos Hec toldened you it was him," said Hoodie.

"No, before Hec said a word, I said to Martin I was sure it wasn't you."

Hoodie looked up with a new light in her eyes.

"_Did_ you?" she said, as if hardly able to believe it.

"Yes, indeed, Miss Hoodie," said Martin, "Miss King did say so. And very kind of her it was, to trust you so, for you did look very funny when I said you had been a few minutes alone in the room."

Hoodie flamed round upon her.

"It's vezzy nasty of you to say that, Martin," she exclaimed violently.

"_Vezzy_ nasty. You alvays think I'm naughty. I daresay I did look funny, 'cos I was temptationed, awful temptationed to touch the bird, but I wouldn't, no I _wouldn't_, 'cos I'd p'omised."

And at last her mingled feelings found relief in a burst of sobs.

The sight was too much for Hec, already in a sorely depressed and tearful condition. He threw his arms round Hoodie, nearly dragging her off her chair in his endeavours to get her s.h.a.ggy head down to the level of his own close-cropped dark one for an embrace.

"Oh Hoodie, Hoodie, _dear_ Hoodie, don't cry," he beseeched her. "It's all Hec's fault. Naughty Hec. Oh Hoodie, please 'agive me and kiss me, and I'll never, never touch your bird again."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Please 'agive me and kiss me."]

Hoodie was quite melted.

"Dear Hec--poor Hec," she cried in her turn. "Don't cry, dear Hec," and the two little creatures hugged and kissed and cried, all in one.

"Let's kiss Maudie's G.o.dmother too. She didn't think you was naughty, Hoodie," suggested Hec, and Hoodie at once took his advice, so the kissing and hugging were transferred to poor Magdalen, who bore them heroically, till at last she was so very nearly smothered that she was obliged to cry for mercy.

"And let us go back to my room now," she said, "and introduce the little bird to its new house. It hasn't seen it yet, you know, Hoodie."

"_Hasn't_ it?" said Hoodie.

"Of course not. The cage is yours--your very own. I waited for you to come before putting the bird in it."

"That was _vezzy_ good of you," said Hoodie, approvingly; and as happy and light-hearted as if no temper or trouble of any kind had ever come near her, she took Hec's hand and trotted off with her cousin to help in the installation of the bird in its beautiful cage.

"What funny creatures children are," said Magdalen to herself, "and of them all surely Hoodie is the funniest."

It would be impossible to tell the pleasure that the possession of the little bird gave to Hoodie, and the devotion she showed to it. For some days its cage remained in Miss King's room, that Cousin Magdalen herself might watch how the little creature got on, and there, as Martin said, "morning, noon, and night," Hoodie was to be found. It was the prettiest sight to see her, seated by the table, her elbows resting upon it, and her chubby face leaning on her hands, while her eyes eagerly followed every movement of her favourite. She was never tired of sitting thus, she was never cross or impatient, nor did she ever attempt to touch the greenfinch without Magdalen's leave. And finding that the little girl was so gentle and obedient, and that the bird gave her such pleasure, Magdalen kindly did her utmost to increase this pleasure. She taught Hoodie how to tame and make friends with her pet, to call to it with her soft little voice--for no one could have a softer or prettier voice than Hoodie when she chose--always in the same tone, till the bird learnt to recognize it and to come at her summons. And oh the delight of the first time this happened! Hoodie was holding out her hand, the forefinger outstretched to the open door of the cage, half-cooing, half-whistling, in the pretty way Magdalen had taught her, when birdie, its head c.o.c.ked on one side as if half in timidity, half in coquetry, at last mustered up courage and hopped on to the fat little pink finger.

Hoodie _nearly_ screamed with delight, but recollected herself just in time not to frighten the bird.

"Oh, Cousin Magdalen," she whispered in the most tremendous excitement, "Him is pouching, him's pouching on my finger. Oh the darling,--look, look, Maudie's G.o.dmother."

But before Maudie's G.o.dmother could get across the room to look, Mr.

Birdie had hopped off its new perch, and the experiment had to be repeated.

"Come and pouch, birdie, dear birdie; _do_ come and pouch on my finger,"

said Hoodie, beseechingly.

"Call it the way I taught you," whispered Magdalen.

Hoodie did so, and at the sound of her well-known call, the greenfinch c.o.c.ked its head, looked round on all sides, appeared to consider, and at last condescended again to hop on to its little Mistress's finger.

"Isn't it _sweet_?" said Hoodie ecstatically, though scarcely daring to breathe for fear of disturbing it.

"If you take care never to startle it," said Magdalen, "it will get in the way of coming regularly whenever you call it. _Never_ let it hear you speaking angrily or roughly, Hoodie. That would startle it more than anything."

"_Would_ it?" said Hoodie, regarding her pet with affection not unmingled with respect. "Would it know I was naughty? Cousin Magdalen,"

she added, looking up into her friend's face with considerable awe in her bright green eyes; "Cousin Magdalen, do you think _p'raps_ my bird's a fairy, and that G.o.d sent it to teach me to be good?"

Fortunately by this time Magdalen's intercourse with Hoodie had taught her the necessity of great control of herself. Whatever Hoodie said or did, she must not be laughed at--not even smiled at, if in the smile there lurked the slightest shadow of ridicule. Once let Hoodie imagine she was being made fun of and all hope of leading her and making her love and trust you was over.

So Magdalen's face remained quite grave as she replied to Hoodie's question,

"I think that _everything_ nice and pretty that comes to us is sent by G.o.d, dear. And He means them all to teach us to be good. But I don't think you need fancy your little bird is a fairy."

"It's _so_ clever," said Hoodie. "Fancy him knowing when I call. Do you think some day it'll learn to speak, Cousin Magdalen?"

Cousin Magdalen shook her head.