It was true she had spoken to him once; when he suddenly saw her standing at his smiddy door, the surprise near made him fall over his brot.

She looked so neat and ladylike that he gave his hair a respectful pull before he remembered the kind of woman she was.
And what was it she said to him?
Dite asked eagerly.
She had pointed to the letters on the window-sill, and said she, "Oh, the dear loves!" It was a queer say, but she had a bonny English word.
The English word was no doubt prideful, but it melted in the mouth like a lick of sirup.

She offered him sixpence for a letter, any letter he liked, but of course he refused it.

Then she prigged with him just to let her hold one in her hands, for said she, bairnlike, "I used to get one every day." It so happened that one of the letters was to Mysy Bobbie; and Mysy was of so little importance that he thought there would be no harm in letting the Painted Lady hold her letter, so he gave it to her, and you should have seen her dawting it with her hand and holding it to her breast like a lassie with a pigeon.

"Isn't it sweet ?" she said, and before he could stop her she kissed it.