The Painted Lady had been talking cheerfully to herself, but she drew back apprehensively, with a look of appeal on her face, and then--and then Tommy "saw a way." He handed her the gold packet, "It's to you," he said, "it's--it's your Muckley!" For a moment she was afraid to take it, but when she knew that this sweet boy's gift was genuine, she fondled it and was greatly flattered, and dropped him the quaintest courtesy and then looked defiantly at Grizel.

But Grizel did not take it from her.

Instead, she flung her arms impulsively round Tommy's neck, she was so glad, glad, glad.
As Tommy and Elspeth walked away to their home, Elspeth could hear him breathing heavily, and occasionally he gave her a furtive glance.
"Grizel needna have done that," she said, sharply.
"No," replied Tommy.
"But it was noble of you," she continued, squeezing his hand, "to give it to the Painted Lady.

Did you mean to give it to her a' the time ?" "Oh, Elspeth!" "But did you ?" "Oh, Elspeth!" "That's no you greeting, is it ?" she asked, softly.
"I'm near the greeting," he said truthfully, "but I'm no sure what about." His sympathy was so easily aroused that he sometimes cried without exactly knowing why.
"It's because you're so good," Elspeth told him; but presently she said, with a complete change of voice, "No, Grizel needna have done that." "It was a shameful thing to do," Tommy agreed, shaking his head.

"But she did it!" he added triumphantly; "you saw her do it, Elspeth!" "But you didna like it ?" Elspeth asked, in terror.
"No, of course I didna like it, but--" "But what, Tommy ?" "But I liked her to like it," he admitted, and by and by he began to laugh hysterically.