n my stone.

The water which served for the tea had been taken from a spring of
pellucid water in the neighbourhood, which I had not had the good fortune
to discover, though it was well known to my companion, and to the
wandering people who frequented the dingle.

"This tea is very good," said I, "but I cannot enjoy it as much as if I
were well: I feel very sadly."

"How else should you feel," said the girl, "after fighting with the
Flaming Tinman? All I wonder is that you can feel at all! As for the
tea, it ought to be good, seeing that it cost me ten shillings a pound."

"That's a great deal for a person in your station to pay."

"In my station! I'd have you to know, young man--however, I haven't the
heart to quarrel with you, you look so ill; and after all, it is a good
sum to pay for one who travels the roads; but if I must have tea, I like
to have the best; and tea I must have, for I am used to it, though I
can't help thinking that it sometimes fills my head with strange
fancies--what some folks call vapours, making me weep and cry!"

"Dear me," said I, "I should never have thought that one of your size and
fierceness would weep and cry!"

"My size and fierceness! I tell you what, young man, you are not over
civil, this evening; but you are ill, as I said before, and I shan't take
much notice of your language, at least for the present; as for my size, I
am not so much bigger than yourself; and as for being fierce, you should
be the last one to fling that at me. It is well for you that I can be
fierce sometimes. If I hadn't taken your part against Blazing Bosville,
you wouldn't be now taking tea with me."

"It is true that you struck me in the face first; but we'll let that
pass. So that man's name is Bosville; what's your own?"

"Isopel Berners."

"How did you get that name?"

"I say, young man, you seem fond of asking questions! will you have
another cup of tea?"

"I was just going to ask for another."

"Well, then, here it is, and much good may it do you; as for my name, I
got it from my mother."

"Your mother's name, then, was Isopel?"

"Isopel Berners."

"But had you never a father?"

"Yes, I had a father," said the girl, sighing, "but I don't bear his
name."

"It is the fashion, then, in your country for children to bear their
mother's name?"

"If you ask such questions, young man, I shall be angry with you. I have
told you my name, and whether my father's or mother's, I am not