This special Sunday afternoon their mother was not with them. They went and returned under Martin's convoy, and till about half way on their way home again all went satisfactorily. Then unfortunately occurred the first ruffle. Maudie had been walking on in front with little Duke, Hoodie and Hec, each with a hand of Martin, behind, when Maudie stopped. "Martin," she said, "may Duke walk with you a little? He says he's tired." "Of course, poor dear," said Martin; "come here, Master Duke, and you, Miss Hoodie, go on a little with your sister." Hoodie let go Martin's hand readily enough. "Wonders will never cease," thought Martin, but alas, her rejoicing was premature. Hoodie let go her hand, but stood stock still without moving. "No," she said deliberately, "I won't walk with Maudie. Why can't Hec walk with Maudie, and me stay here?" "Because he's such a little boy, Miss Hoodie dear, and I daresay both he and Master Duke are getting tired. They've had a long walk you know." Martin was forgetting her own advice to Maudie. He who stopped to reason with Hoodie was lost indeed! "And so has me had a long walk, and so you might daresay me is tired too," returned Hoodie, standing her ground both actually and figuratively. Two fat little legs apart, two sturdy little feet planted firmly on the ground, there she stood looking up defiantly in Martin's face, armed for the fight. "Was there ever such a child?" thought poor Martin. Maudie's words had indeed been quickly fulfilled--here already was a case in which the taking-no-notice system was impossible--the child could not be left by herself on the high-road, where according to present appearances it was evidently her intention to stay unless--she got her own way! "Well, my dear, I daresay you are tired too," said Martin soothingly, "but still not _so_ tired as poor little Duke. You're ever so much bigger you know. Think what tiny little feet your brothers have to trot all along the road on." "Mines is tiny too. I heard you saying them was very tiny to Mamma one day. And them's just as tired as Duke's; 'cos I'm bigger, my feets have more heavy to carry. I _will_ have your hand, Martin, and I won't walk with ugly Maudie." "But you must, Miss Hoodie," said Martin, attempting firmness and decision as a last resource. "But I mustn't, 'cos I _won't_," said Hoodie. Martin glanced back along the road despairingly. Several groups of the country people on their way home from church were approaching the little party as they stood on the footpath. "Do come on, Martin," said Maudie; "it is so horrid for the people to see such a fuss. And then they say all about that we are all naughty. Look, there's farmer Bright and his daughters coming. Do come on--you'll _have_ to let Hoodie walk with you, and Hec'll come with me." "Miss Hoodie," said Martin once more, "you are to walk on with Miss Maudie, do you hear?" "Yes," said Hoodie, without moving an inch, "I hear, but I _won't_ walk with ugly Maudie."