"But she is only to have it if she really has been good?" said Mrs. Caryll, who was sometimes afraid that Magdalen was rather inclined to spoil Hoodie. "Only if she has been good, you may be sure," said Magdalen. "And there is one thing about Hoodie--she does keep a promise." "You think she is honest and truthful?" said Mrs. Caryll. "By nature I am sure she is. But her brain is so full of fancies that she hardly understands herself, that I can quite see how sometimes it must seem as if she were not straightforward. Not that the fancies would do her any harm if they were all happy and pretty ones--but I do wish she could get rid of the idea that no one cares for her. It is _that_ that sours her and spoils her, poor little girl." Hoodie's mother looked affectionately at Magdalen. "Where have you learnt to be so wise about children, Magda?" she said. "You seem to understand them as if you had lived among them all your life." "It is only because I love them so much," said Magdalen, simply. "And often somehow----" she hesitated. "Often what?" said her cousin, smiling. "I was going to say--but I stopped because I thought perhaps you would not like it as we were talking of your children who have everything to make them happy--" said Magdalen. "I was going to say that sometimes, often, I am so very, very sorry for children. Even their naughtinesses and sillinesses make me sorry for them. They are so strange to it all--and it is so difficult to learn wisdom." Hoodie's mother smiled again. "You are such a venerable owl yourself, you funny child," she said. "However, I do understand you, and I agree with you. I do feel very sorry for poor Hoodie sometimes, even though she really goes out of her way to make herself unhappy. But what _is_ one to do?" "Yes, that is the puzzle," said Magdalen. "In the first place any way, I am going to buy her a cage for her bird--it will be good for her to take regular care of the bird. I am so glad you said she might keep it." "I only hope we shall be able to rear it," said Mrs. Caryll. "Hoodie would indeed think all the powers were against her if it died. That is the worst of pets." "I think this bird will get on, if it is taken care of and not over-fed," said Magdalen. "It is a greenfinch, you know, and greenfinches take kindly to domestic life. Besides, it is not so very young a bird, and it looks quite bright and happy now that it has got over its fright," and so saying she followed Hoodie's mother out of the room to prepare for their drive. It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon when they returned. Cousin Magdalen ran joyously up-stairs to the nursery carrying a very funnily-shaped parcel in her hand. The children were all at tea. She heard their voices and the clatter and tinkle that always accompanies a nursery meal as she came along the passage, and she opened the door so softly that for a moment or two she stood watching the little party before any of them noticed her.