"Hoodie," said Magdalen gravely, "I don't call it beginning to be good to tell Martin you don't care to please her one bit."
"Can't please ev'ybody," said Hoodie, with a toss of her shaggy head; "takes such a long time."
"But speaking that way to Martin doesn't please me," persisted Magdalen.
"Very well zen, I won't," said Hoodie, with unusual amiability. "I'll give Martin a kiss if you like. Only you must have the story ready the minute moment Maudie's done her letsons—will zou?"
"Yes," said Magdalen, "it'll be quite ready."
So Hoodie went off triumphantly in Martin's arms, things looking so promising that by the time they reached the nursery, the two were the best of friends.
And, "what a nice little young lady you might be, Miss Hoodie," said Martin, encouragingly, "if you was always good."
Magdalen was ready for the children as she had promised. It was such a mild beautiful day, though only April, that she got leave to take them out-of-doors for the story-telling, and in a favourite corner, sunny yet sheltered, they settled their little camp-stools in a circle round her and prepared to listen.
"Only," said wise Maudie, "if Hec and Duke get very tired they may run about a little, mayn't they, Cousin Magdalen?"