"That I would," said the landlady, "and indeed I wish you could stay to hear them. Not that I've ever really come across the fairies--brownies and pixies, they call them in some parts--myself, nor even set eyes on one of them--unless indeed----" and here she stopped abruptly, lowering her voice. "Unless what?" asked Clodagh. "Do tell me." "Just what I was saying a minute ago," the dame went on. "Unless that strange old lady is one herself, as I'm more than half inclined to think by what I've heard tell of her." "Then you've seen her?" questioned the girl eagerly. The landlady nodded. "Just seen her," she said. "Twice--no, I think three times, she's passed in the coach, and I've just said a word to her at the door. Once she asked for a glass of milk. 'Twas a very hot morning, like as it might be to-day." "How I wish she might be in the coach this morning!" exclaimed the traveller, her eyes sparkling. "It would be so interesting, and if she knew I was Irish she might take a fancy to me, for the good people do love the Irish!" and at the idea the girl laughed merrily for the first time. "Yes," agreed the dame, "indeed she might, my pretty young lady. But it's a long time since she's passed this way. One never knows where she is, or how she'll travel. Now and then she'll set off in her own coach and four, like any princess, and I've heard it whispered that she'll sometimes disappear from her home, no one knows how." "Oh, a broomstick, maybe, or has she a pet gander?" laughed Clodagh. But the landlady looked a little frightened. "Hush, Missy, my dear," she whispered, "it doesn't do to----" Then she suddenly started. "I'm afraid that's the coach," she exclaimed, "and sorry I am to part with you, but if you're bound to go, we'd best be at the door ready." Clodagh jumped up at once. "And thank you a thousand times," she said, "for all your kindness. Yes, I must go. My cousin will be looking out for me. I've not seen her for five years," she added nervously. "Wish me good luck, my kind friend." "That I will," said the dame heartily. "You've cheered me greatly," said the girl, and in her impulsive Irish way she held up her sweet young face for a kiss. The coach it was, sure enough. There was some trouble about getting Clodagh's rather complicated belongings on to it, it was already so piled up. But with difficulty all was at last disposed, outside and in, and thanks to the landlady nothing was left behind. There were tears in the kind woman's eyes when at last it rumbled off, her young guest of an hour waving good-bye out of the window. But it is Clodagh's adventures we have to follow. For a minute or two the bustle of getting her bags and boxes settled prevented her realising that there was already a passenger in the coach, and before looking round she felt obliged to lean out once again in a last farewell to her kind new friend. She was soon, however, recalled to the present.