'I have met you going to and from the mine, and seen you working in it for the last forty years.' 'How should it be, madam, that a grand lady like you should take notice of a poor man like me ?' said Peter, humbly, but more foolishly than he could then have understood.
'I am poor as well as rich,' said she.

'I, too, work for my bread, and I show myself no favour when I pay myself my own wages.

Last night when you sat by the brook, and Curdie told you about my pigeon, and my spinning, and wondered whether he could believe that he had actually seen me, I heard what you said to each other.

I am always about, as the miners said the other night when they talked of me as Old Mother Wotherwop.' The lovely lady laughed, and her laugh was a lightning of delight in their souls.
'Yes,' she went on, 'you have got to thank me that you are so poor, Peter.

I have seen to that, and it has done well for both you and me, my friend.