Madame de la Rougepot, I call her.

She _does_ know how to paint up to the ninety-nines--she does, the old cat.

I beg your pardon, Miss, but _that_ she is--a devil, and no mistake.

I found her out first by her thieving the Master's gin, that the doctor ordered him, and filling the decanter up with water--the old villain; but she'll be found out yet, she will; and all the maids is afraid on her.

She's not right, they think--a witch or a ghost--I should not wonder.