wn.

It really seemed as if, as Martin said, there was nothing to do but
leave her to herself, and it was with a terror of making things worse
that Hoodie's mother now stood and looked at her, asking herself what
_would_ be best to do.

"Perhaps it would have been better," she said to herself, "if I had
taken no notice of anything wrong," for she believed that Hoodie's
intense mortification at _mother's_ knowing of her naughtiness was what
gave her more influence over her than any one else. But it was not quite
the kind of influence she most cared to have--mortification, to my
thinking, never does any one any good, but only fosters the evil _roots_
from whence all these troubles spring. "If Hoodie cared about my knowing
for fear of it grieving me, I would understand better how to manage
her," thought Mrs. Caryll. "But if it were so she would show her sorrow
in a different way. It is her pride, not her love, that is concerned."

She was right, but wrong too. Hoodie was proud, but also intensely
loving. She did grieve in her own wild, unreasonable way, at distressing
her mother, but most of all she grieved that _she_ should be the cause
of it. It would have made her sorry for mother to be grieved by Maudie
or the boys, but still that would have been different. It was the misery
of believing herself to be always the cause of the unhappiness that
seemed to come back and back upon her, making the very time at which she
was "sorriest," the time at which it was hardest to be good.

Hoodie's mother stood and considered. Then she crossed the room and
touched her little girl on the neck. The bare white dumpling of a
shoulder just "shruggled itself up" a little higher, but Hoodie gave no
other sign of having felt anything.

"Hoodie," said her mother.

No reply.

"_Hoodie_," a little louder.

Hoodie _had_ to look round. What a face! Red eyes, tangled hair,
frowning forehead, tight shut lips. No, the good angels had not yet
found their way back to Hoodie's heart--the little black dog was still
curled up on her back, scowling at every one that came near.

"Hoodie," said her mother very quietly, "come with me to my room."

Hoodie did not resist. She allowed her mother to take her hand and lead
her away. As the door closed after them Maudie gave a sigh of relief.

"Let's go on with our reading as long as we can," she said. "Hoodie will
be worse than ever after she comes back. As soon as ever mother has gone
down again and