A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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went down, and found the family already at break­fast. But before I entered the room where they sat, the little girl came to me, and looked up in my face, as though she wanted to say something to me. I stooped towards her; she put her arms round my neck, and her mouth to my ear, and whispered:—
" A white lady has been flitting about the house all night."
"No whispering behind doors!" cried the farmer; and we entered together. " Well, how have you slept? No bogies, eh?"
"Not one, thank you ; I slept uncommonly well."
" I am glad to hear it. Come and breakfast."
After breakfast, the farmer and his son went out; and I was left alone with the mother and daughter.
i€ When I looked out of the window this morning," I said, " I felt almost certain that Fairy Land was all a delusion of my brain; but whenever I come near you or your little daughter, I feel differently. Yet I could persuade myself, after my last adventures, to go back, and have nothing more to do with such strange beings."
uHow will you go back?" said the woman.
" Nay, that I do not know."
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