The watchers could not hear what she and Grizel said, but evidently it was pleasant converse, and mother and child, happy in each other's company, presented a picture as sweet as it is common, though some might have complained that they were doing each other's work.

But the Painted Lady's delight in flowers was a scandal in Thrums, where she would stand her ground if the roughest boy approached her with roses in his hand, and she gave money for them, which was one reason why the people thought her daft.

She was tending her flowers now with experienced eye, smelling them daintily, and every time she touched them it was a caress.
The watchers retired into the field to compare impressions, and Elspeth said emphatically, "I like her, Tommy, I'm not none fleid at her." Tommy had liked her also, but being a man he said, "You forget that she's an ill one." "She looks as if she didna ken that hersel'," answered Elspeth, and these words of a child are the best picture we can hope to get of the Painted Lady.
On their return to the window, they saw that Grizel had finished her ca'ming and was now sitting on the floor nursing a doll.

Tommy had not thought her the kind to shut her eyes to the truth about dolls, but she was hugging this one passionately.

Without its clothes it was of the nine-pin formation, and the painted eyes and mouth had been incorporated long since in loving Grizel's system; but it became just sweet as she swaddled it in a long yellow frock and slipped its bullet head into a duck of a pink bonnet.