"Oh no, I'll give it a little more before I go out, and then it will be all right till I come in. You promise, Hoodie?"
Hoodie nodded her head.
"P'omise," she repeated.
Magdalen looked after her anxiously.
"Poor little Hoodie," she said to herself, as she watched the neat little figure tripping out of the room. Just then the children's mother came over to her.
"Magdalen, my dear child," she said, "you must not worry yourself about these children. You have been looking quite careworn all the morning, and I can't have it."
"But I wanted to help you with them, so that you might have a little rest and get quite strong again, dear Beatrice," said Magdalen. "You have never been really well since your illness last winter, and Mamma and I thought I should be able to help you—and—and—" the tears came into Cousin Magdalen's pretty eyes.
"Well, dear, and who could have done more to help me than you, since you have been here? I shall miss you terribly when you go, especially about Hoodie," and in spite of her wish to cheer Magdalen, Hoodie's mother gave a little sigh.
"It was about Hoodie I was thinking," said Magdalen. "I was so anxious to do her good."
"And don't you think you have?"