The man was no less astonished than the children.
"What on earth are you doing here?" he cried. His voice was mild and reassuring, and the girl answered him promptly.
"I came out to look for fairies."
"Oh, that's right enough," commented the man; "and you," he said, turning to the boy, "are you after fairies, too? Oh, I see; picking flowers. Do you mean to sell them?"
The boy shook his head.
"For my sister," he said, and stopped abruptly.
"Is your sister fond of flowers?"
"Yes; she's dead."
The man looked at him gravely.
"That's a phrase," he said, "and phrases are the devil. Who told you that dead people like flowers?"