enough into the room for her to venture to
shut the window. She stood breathless, for as it at last settled for a
moment on the curtain-rod, she saw what at first she had scarcely
ventured to believe, that it was Hoodie's bird.

It stayed a moment on the rod, then it flew off again--made a turn round
the room--"oh," thought Magdalen, "if it _would_ but settle somewhere
further from the window, so that I could shut it in"--But no, off it
flew again--out into the open air, and Magdalen's heart sank. Patience!
Another moment and it was back again, with designs on its cage
apparently, but it hesitated half way. Now was the critical moment.
Magdalen hesitated. Should she risk it? She stretched out her hand
towards the bird and softly and tremulously whistled to it in Hoodie's
well-known call. The wavering balance of birdie's intentions was
turned--it cocked its head on one side, and with a pretty chirp flew
towards Magdalen and perched on her finger! Slowly and cautiously,
whistling softly all the time, she slipped her hand into the cage, and
quickly withdrawing it the instant birdie hopped off he found himself
caught.

[Illustration: "Slowly and cautiously, whistling softly all the time"]

But he seemed quite content, and in two moments was pecking at his seed
as if nothing had happened.

CHAPTER XI.

HOODIE'S DISOBEDIENCE.

"Where are the pretty primroses gone,
That lately bloomed in the wood?"

Notwithstanding her troubles, on account of them partly, perhaps, for
nothing tires out little children more than long crying, Hoodie slept
soundly that night. She was still sleeping when, at seven o'clock,
Magdalen, already dressed and with the cage in her hand, came into her
room to watch for her waking.

Martin, who had heard the joyful news an hour ago, stood with Miss King
beside the little girl's bed and looked at her. Poor Hoodie! Her rosy
face still bore traces of yesterday's weeping, and now and then through
her sleep one heard that little sobbing catch in her breathing which is,
to my thinking, one of the most piteous sounds in the world.

"She's tired herself out," said Martin. "She may sleep another hour or
more. You'll be tired standing there, miss. Who would think Miss Hoodie
had it in her to take things to heart so, for to see her sometimes she's
like as if she had no heart or love in her at all."

"I think I'll put the cage on a chair beside the bed," said Magdalen,
"and then she'll be