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.

How nice and pretty and happy they looked! Martin, a perfect picture of
a kind, tidy nurse, sat pouring out the tea, looking for once quite
easy-minded and at rest; Maudie, a little model of neatness as usual,
her small sweet face wearing an expression of the utmost gravity as she
carefully spread some honey on Hec's bread and butter; Duke, frowning
with eagerness to understand some mysterious communication which his
neighbour Hoodie was making to him in a low voice, her eyes bright with
excitement, her cheeks rosy, and her pretty fat shoulders "shruggled"
up, as she bent to whisper to her little brother.

"_What_ do you say, Hoodie? I don't under'tand. How could it be all of
gold?" were the first words that met Magdalen's ears.

"_Hush_, Duke," said Hoodie, placing her sticky little hand on his
mouth, "you're _not_ to tell. I didn't say it would be all gold. I said
p'raps the little points at the top would be goldy--like the shiny top
of the point on the church. But you're too little to know what I