"Cousin Magdalen," she said, with an accent on the name that she always gave when amused. "Cousin Magdalen, how funny you are! I know who you mean—yes, I do, kite well. But she couldn't, that little girl couldn't help being c'oss sometimes."
She shook her head sagaciously.
"Well, any way," said Magdalen, "try and let the 'sometimes' come as seldom as possible. Won't you do that, Hoodie?"
Just then there came a tap at the door.
"Miss Hoodie," said Martin's voice. "Come to tea, please. It's quite ready."
Hoodie gave an impatient shake. Fortunately the bird was no longer on her finger, otherwise its nerves would have been considerably startled. Hoodie had been on the point of putting her hand into the cage to entice it to hop on to her finger and thus to lift it out when Martin's summons came.
"I don't want any tea," she said; "do go away, Martin. You alvays come for me when I don't want to go."
"Hoodie," whispered Magdalen, "the bird will be quite frightened to hear you speak like that."
Hoodie looked startled.
"Oh dear," she said. "I quite forgot. You see, Cousin Magdalen, it will come. There's no good trying to keep it away."