olitely.

"I've _been_ to the other door, Miss Hoodie, and Martin has told me what
she wants me to do," replied Lucy. "Poor Martin, I'm right down sorry
for her, and poor little Miss Maudie," said Lucy. "Now, Miss Hoodie, I'm
going to take you out into the garden a little, and when we come in I'm
going to stay with you in the sewing-room."

Lucy's manner had become more decided, and somehow Hoodie did not make
any objection. She let Lucy put on her hat and take her into the garden,
quietly enough.

"Is Maudie _very_ ill, Lucy?" she asked.

"I hope not," said Lucy, "but it's too soon to say much yet."

"Why are you sorry for Martin?" was Hoodie's next inquiry.

"Oh, because it's such a upset, and her that's that fond of you all,"
said Lucy. "I'm sure if there's anything I can do, I'll be only too
glad. I'm very glad I've had the fever."

"Why are you glad? When did you have it, and was it the affection fever
like what Maudie's got?" asked Hoodie.

Lucy did not laugh. She was rather a matter-of-fact girl.

"I had it when I was six, and people don't often, almost never, have it
twice," she replied. "That's how I'm to take care of you, Miss Hoodie,
otherwise they'd have been afraid of my catching it. Your mamma's a very
kind lady that way, and it's dreadfully catching--just see how poor Miss
Maudie's got it with that one minute in that cottage the other day."

Hoodie stared at her.

"Did Maudie catch it that day she ran to tell me to come away from the
baby's mother's cottage?" she said.

Lucy stared at her in turn.

"Of course," she said. "Didn't you know that, Miss Hoodie? It can't be
helped now, you see, and we must hope Miss Maudie will get better. But
it'll be a lesson to you to be obedient another time. Let's go and
gather some flowers, Miss Hoodie, and make a little nosegay for you to
send in to Miss Maudie."

But Hoodie shook her head, and she had a look in her face which made
Lucy wish she had not told her what she had, though never doubting but
that the child already knew it.

"Maudie wouldn't care for any flowers from _me_. Nobody will ever love
me at all now," she said. "It was me that made Maudie ill. Oh, I do wish
God had made me ill instead of Maudie, for everybody loves her, and
nobody loves me."

"Miss Hoodie," said Lucy, really startled. "You _mustn't_ talk so.
Everybody would love you just as they do Miss Maudie if you'd try to be
a good and obedient little girl."

Hoodie shook her h