"Oh no, not angels," said Maudie. "It was about the stars and the moon. Hoodie has a fancy——"
"It isn't a fancy," put in Hoodie fiercely.
"Hoodie says," continued Maudie calmly, "that the moon and the stars and all of the things up in the sky, know each other, and talk to each other, and that she has heard them. The moon takes care of the stars, she says, and early in the morning when it is time for them all to go away the moon calls to them. I mean Hoodie says she does."
"'Cos she does," replied Hoodie, before any one else had time to speak. "She calls to them and they all come round her together, and then they all go away like a flash—so quick, and it is so bright."
Her funny eyes gleamed up into Magdalen's face. In the interest of what she was telling she forgot her temper.
"Was it that that you saw?" asked Magdalen, gravely. "The flash of their going, I mean?"
"Yes," said Hoodie, "I've seen it lots of times, and I try to keep awake on purpose. It passes—the flash, I mean—it passes by the little window near my head. The little window for seeing up into the sky, you know."
Magdalen nodded her head.
"I know," she said, "I had a window like that in my room when I was a little girl, and I was very fond of it. But I don't think I ever saw the moon and the stars saying good night, or good morning—which is it? And are none of the little stars ever left behind?"
The whole of Hoodie's face lighted up with a smile, but the rest of the faces round Miss King looked grave and rather puzzled. Was she really going to encourage Hoodie in her fancies—thought Maudie and Martin?