It happened that she was right. When she reached the stile, there, sure enough, across another little field the cottage, _a_ cottage any way, was to be seen. A neat little cottage, something like the description Martin had given of _her_ grandmother's cottage, which, jumbled up with the picture of long ago Red Riding Hood the first, on the nursery walls, was in Hoodie's mind as a sort of model of that in quest of which she had set out on her voyage of discovery. This cottage too had a little garden with a path up the middle, and at each side were beds, neatly bordered, which in summer-time no doubt would be gay with simple flowers. Hoodie glanced round the little garden approvingly as she made her way up to the door. "It's just like Martin's cottage," she thought. "But the Hoodie-girl in the picture was pulling somesing for the door to open and I don't see nosing to pull. I must knock I 'appose. I am _so_ glad there's been none woofs." [Illustration: It's just like Martin's cottage] Knock--knock--no answer. Knock, knock, _knock_ a little louder this time. Hoodie began to wonder if the grandmother was going to be out, like the one in Martin's story--no--a sound at last of some one coming to open. CHAPTER III. LITTLE BABY AND ITS MOTHER. "Polly put the kettle on, And let's have tea." The latch was lifted from the inside, and there stood before Hoodie--not an old woman with either "big" or little eyes, not a "grandmother" with a frilly cap all round her face, such as she had been vaguely expecting, yet certainly not a "woof" either! The person who stood in the doorway smiling down on the little girl was a very pretty and pleasant-looking young woman, with a fresh rosy face and merry eyes, and a sleeping baby in her arms! For the first moment Hoodie was too surprised to understand what she saw. At last, "I want my grandmother," she said. "_You_ aren't my grandmother. I thought this was her cottage." The young woman smiled again. "No, Missy, you must have made a mistake. But _your_ grandmother doesn't live in a little cottage like this, Missy, I'm sure. You must have quite come out of your road. Whose little lady are you?" Hoodie shook her head. "I want to live with my grandmother," she replied. "I don't want to be anybody's little lady. I've come such a long way--I know the cottage should be aside a wood, just like this. And I'm _so_ tired and firsty." The quiver in her voice told that the self-control was coming to an end. The young woman's sympathy awoke at once.