“I did ask her the way to Goblin Hall, and she told me she would go with me and show me the way.”
“Oh! And what next did she do?”
“Oh, she took hold of my hand and led me a long way through such nasty streets, and to the nastiest house you ever saw in all your life. It made me awful ill all over.”
“And what did you do, you poor child?”
“I went dead—stone dead!” said the little guest, and then she paused in her speech and applied herself diligently to the “bread and butter with sugar on it.”
“But you came to life again,” said Harcourt, with a smile.
“Oh, yes; I came to life again,” said the imp, with her mouth full of bread and butter with sugar on it. “I always do. I’m used to it—I mean, I am getting used to it.”
“Used to what, my dear?”
“Used to going dead and coming to life again. I know it sounds as if I wasn’t possessed of common sense to say so, but it is the truth, for all that. I have been dead several times since I lost Lady,” added the elf, with a deep sigh.
“Do you mean you fainted?”