dn't make myself. 'Tisn't my fault. God should have made Hoodie
gooder," she would say defiantly.

And was it not a puzzle? There was Maudie, just as nice and good a
little girl as one would wish to see, and Hec and Duke, both
comfortable, good-natured little fellows--all three, children to whom
things came right, and whose presence in the world seemed as natural and
pleasant a thing as that of birds in the trees or daisies in the grass.
Why should not Hoodie be like them? She was born in July--one bright
sunny day when all the world was rejoicing--and little Maudie had been
so pleased to have a baby sister, and her godmother had begged that she
might be called "Julian," and everybody had, for a time, made much of
her. But, alas, as the years went on, they told a different
tale--governesses and nurses, sister and brothers, it was the same story
with all--Hoodie's temper was the strangest and the worst that ever a
child had made herself and other people miserable by.

"I could really fancy," said Maudie one day, "I could really fancy, if
there _were_ such things as fairies, you know--that one of them had been
offended at not being asked to Hoodie's christening."

And when Hoodie grew old enough to hear fairy tales, this speech of
Maudie's came back to her mind, and she wondered, with the strange
unexpressed bewilderment of a child, if indeed there were some mystery
about her naughtiness--some spell cast upon her which it was hopeless to
try to break. For she knew she was naughty, very naughty--she never
thought of denying it. Only deep down _somewhere_ in her--where, she
could not have told--there was a feeling that she did not _want_ to be
naughty--she did not _like_ being naughty--there was a mistake about her
somehow or somewhere, which nobody could understand or ever would, and
which it never entered her head to try to explain to any one.

The screaming went on steadily--agreeably for Hoodie herself, it is to
be hoped, for it certainly was anything but pleasant for other people.
Suddenly there came a lull--a step was heard coming along the passage,
and light as it was, Hoodie's quick ears were the first to hear it. It
was mother!

Hoodie's power of self-control was really very great--her screams ceased
entirely, only, as her fury had this time been _very_ great even for
her, it had naturally arrived at tears and sobs, and in consequence she
was not able all at once to stifle the sobs that shook her, or even by
s