erself, she could not help smiling back at the
funny little girl.

Luncheon over, the children were dismissed for their walk, for the rain
was now quite over and the afternoon promised to be fine and sunny. As
they were leaving the room Hoodie threw her arms round Magdalen's neck
and drew her head down that she might whisper into her ear.

"Will the fairy come, does you think?" she asked.

"I hope so," said Magdalen, in the same tone; "but, Hoodie, you must
promise me one thing. You must not touch the little bird while I am
away. I have put it on my table in the basket and it will be quite safe
there. You may go in to look at it with Maudie, but you must not touch
it."

"Won't it be hungry?" inquired Hoodie.

"Oh no, I'll give it a little more before I go out, and then it will be
all right till I come in. You promise, Hoodie?"

Hoodie nodded her head.

"P'omise," she repeated.

Magdalen looked after her anxiously.

"Poor little Hoodie," she said to herself, as she watched the neat
little figure tripping out of the room. Just then the children's mother
came over to her.

"Magdalen, my dear child," she said, "you must not worry yourself about
these children. You have been looking quite careworn all the morning,
and I can't have it."

"But I wanted to help you with them, so that you might have a little
rest and get quite strong again, dear Beatrice," said Magdalen. "You
have never been really well since your illness last winter, and Mamma
and I thought I should be able to help you--and--and--" the tears came
into Cousin Magdalen's pretty eyes.

"Well, dear, and who could have done more to help me than you, since you
have been here? I shall miss you terribly when you go, especially about
Hoodie," and in spite of her wish to cheer Magdalen, Hoodie's mother
gave a little sigh.

"It was about Hoodie I was thinking," said Magdalen. "I was so anxious
to do her good."

"And don't you think you have?"

Magdalen hesitated.

"I don't know. Sometimes I think I have made an impression on her, and
then it seems all to have gone off again. She is such a queer
mixture--in some ways so old for her age, and in some ways such a
baby."

"Yes," said Mrs. Caryll. "It is so very difficult to know how to treat
her. But she is very fond of you, Magdalen, and I am so glad to see it.
We really used to think it wasn't in her to be fond of any one."

"But I am sure it is in her," said Magdalen, "only--I hardly can say
what I