This was how it happened.
Maudie's godmother was generally an early riser, but this first morning she somehow—tired perhaps with her journey—slept later than usual. She was not quite dressed, at least her pretty curly brown hair was still hanging about her shoulders, when a knock—a lot of little knocks, and then one rather firmer and more decided—came to the door, and in answer to her "Come in," appeared Martin, an old acquaintance of hers, beaming with pleasure, and ushering in her little people, all spick and span from their morning toilet, looking not unlike four rather shy little sheep under the charge of a faithful "colly."
But when Martin caught sight of the young lady in her white dressing-gown and unarranged hair, she drew back.
"Oh, ma'am, I beg your pardon," she said. "My mistress said I might bring them in to see you first thing, as you were always dressed so early, but I can take them back to the nursery till you are ready. They've been worrying to come to you for ever so long."
"And you were quite right to bring them," said Cousin Magdalen, heartily. "Come now, darlings, and let us make friends. I can tell Maudie and Hoodie in a moment of course, but I'm quite in a puzzle as to which is Hec and which Duke."
"I'm Hec," and "I'm Duke," said the two little boys shyly, nestling up to their new friend as they spoke. She kissed them fondly.
"Dear little fellows!" she said.
"Yes, Cousin Magdalen, aren't they dear little boys? And will you please kiss me too?" said Maudie, in her pretty soft voice.
Magdalen put her arm round her as she did so.
"And Hoodie?" she said. "I must have a kiss from Hoodie too, mustn't I?"