"For me, was all that trouble?" said he. "I don't deserve it."
"You wanted something, sir," said Fleda. "The water is very cold and nice."
He stooped to the bright little stream and filled his rural goblet several times.
"I never knew what it was to have a fairy for my cup-bearer before," said he. "That was better than anything Bordeaux or Xeres ever sent forth."
He seemed to have swallowed his seriousness, or thrown it away with the mullein leaf. It was quite gone.
"This is the best spring in all grandpa's ground," said Fleda. "The water is as good as can be."
"How came you to be such a wood and water spirit? you must live out of doors. Do the trees ever talk to you? I sometimes think they do to me."
"I don't know--I think I talk to them," said Fleda.
"It's the same thing," said her companion smiling. "Such beautiful woods!"
"Were you never in the country before in the fall, sir?"