little story she
had either read or heard or imagined long ago, and as she fell asleep
she said to herself, "Yes, that will do. I will tell them the story of
'The Chintz Curtains.'"

When Magdalen awoke again that morning it was, as might have been
expected, a good deal later than usual. Hoodie was still sleeping
soundly. Magdalen got up and dressed quietly. She was nearly quite ready
when Hoodie awoke. A little movement in the bed caught Miss King's
notice: she turned round. There was Hoodie, staring at her with
wide-open eyes.

"Well, Hoodie," she said, "how are you this morning?"

Hoodie did not reply, but continued staring, so her cousin went on
fastening up her hair. In a minute or two there came a remark, or
question rather.

"Has zou had a nice sleep?"

[Illustration: "Has zou had a nice sleep?"]

"Yes, thank you."

"Has zou thinkened of a story?"

"Yes," said Magdalen. "I almost think I have."

"_I_ has too," said Hoodie, with a queer twinkle in her eyes.

"Have you," said her cousin, "that's very clever of you."

"Yes," replied the little girl, "zou didn't know Hoodie was so c'ever,
did zou?"

"You'd better tell me the story first, and then I'll say what I think of
it," said Magdalen.

"Now?" inquired Hoodie, "sall I tell it now? It isn't a long one."

"If you like," replied Magdalen, "you can tell it me while I finish
doing my hair."

"Well," began Hoodie, solemnly, "just a long time ago--oh no, that's a
mistake, it should be just '_onst_--'"

"Or 'once,'" corrected her cousin, "'once' is a proper word, and 'onst'
isn't."

"I don't care," said Hoodie, frowning. "I like to say 'onst.' If zou
don't zink my words pretty you'll make one come, and if one comes I
can't tell you stories."

"Very well," said Magdalen, remembering Maudie's explanation of the
mysterious phrase, "very well. I won't interrupt you. You may say any
words you like."

"Well then," began Hoodie again. "_Onst_ there was a little girl. She
was called--no, I won't tell zou what she was called--she had a papa and
mamma and bruvvers and a sister, but zey didn't like her much."

She stopped.

"Dear me," said Magdalen, finding she was expected to say something,
"that was very sad."

"Yes," said Hoodie, "vezy sad."

"Why didn't they like her?"

"'Cos zey thoughtened she was naughty. Zey was alvays saying she was
naughty."

"Perhaps she was," said Magdalen.

"Nebber mind," said Hoodie, "I want to go on. One day a