"What story ?"
"About the lady and the little sprites that waited on her."
"Yes, it is in a book; you shall see it, Elfie. Here we are!"
And here it was proposed to stay till the next day, lest Fleda might not be able to bear so much travelling at first. But the country inn was not found inviting; the dinner was bad, and the rooms were worse; uninhabitable, the ladies said; and about the middle of the afternoon they began to cast about for the means of reaching Albany that night. None very comfortable could be had; however, it was thought better to push on at any rate than wear out the night in such a place. The weather was very mild; the moon at the full.
"How is Fleda to go this afternoon," said Mrs. Evelyn.
"She shall decide herself," said Mrs. Carleton. "How will you go, my sweet Fleda?"
Fleda was lying upon a sort of rude couch which had been spread for her, where she had been sleeping incessantly ever since she arrived, the hour of dinner alone excepted. Mrs. Carleton repeated her question.
"I am afraid Mr. Carleton must be tired," said Fleda, without opening her eyes.
"That means that you are, don't it?" said Rossitur.
"No," said Fleda, gently.