FLOWN.
"One flew away, and then there was none."
Three Little Birds.
Hoodie sat alone in the nursery, wrathful and sore. All the pleasure in the little bird and the beautiful cage seemed to have gone.
"I don't love her neither, not now," she said to herself. "I don't think—no, I really don't think I love anybody, 'cos nobody loves me, and ev'ybody thinks I'm naughty. Never mind—I'll go away some day. As soon as ever I'm big enough I'll go kite away and never come back again, and I sha'n't care what anybody says then."
There was some comfort though of a rather vague kind in this thought. Hoodie sat swinging her legs backwards and forwards, while queer fancies of where she would go—what she would do, once she was "big enough," chased each other round her busy little brain.
Suddenly a sound in the passage outside the nursery door made her look up just in time to see the door open and Magdalen, leading tearful Hec by the hand, followed by Maudie, Duke, and Martin, come in.
Hoodie looked up with some curiosity.
"Hoodie," said Magdalen, "Hec wants to tell you how sorry he is that you have got blamed on his account. It was he that touched the basket and knocked it over. He ran into my room to look at the bird without Martin's knowing he had left the nursery, and he was so afraid that he had hurt the little bird, by knocking it over, that he didn't like to tell. Kiss him and speak kindly to him, poor little boy, Hoodie dear. He has been so unhappy."