“Just because I have kent her for years; and naebody could look into her bonny face, sae simple and sweet, without being sure she’s an honest creature. Then she has hawked sae lang through Edinburgh, that had she been dishonest, she would hae been fund oot.”
“Well, she does look like an honest girl,” said I. “Have you had many articles from her besides the gown?”
“Just a heap,” replied she. “But ken ye what, Mr M‘Levy?”
“If I knew the what, I could perhaps tell,” said I, keeping my friend in humour.
“This is Elizabeth’s marriage-day,” she whispered in my ear.
“Orange blossom!” muttered I.
“Aye, orange blossom,” repeated Mrs Thick; “Lizzy’s as far up as even that.”
Now I had no wish that Mrs Thick should have heard my muttering, but the answer satisfied me I had muttered to some purpose.
“And who is the happy man?” inquired I; though I would not have given the sprig of orange blossom for the other sprig.
“Just a snab,” replied she; “but then Elizabeth has money, and a full house, a’ by her ain industry, and she says she’ll set him up.”