"The saut water kens me ower weel to do me ony ill," returned the
lad. "I gang weet to the skin mony a day frae mornin' till nicht,
and mony a nicht frae nicht till mornin'--at the heerin' fishin',
ye ken, my leddy."

One might well be inclined to ask what could have tempted her to
talk in such a familiar way to a creature like him--human indeed,
but separated from her by a gulf more impassable far than that
which divided her from the thrones, principalities, and powers of
the upper regions? And how is the fact to be accounted for, that here
she put out a dainty foot, and reaching for one of her stockings,
began to draw it gently over the said foot? Either her sense of his
inferiority was such that she regarded his presence no more than
that of a dog, or, possibly, she was tempted to put his behaviour
to the test. He, on his part, stood quietly regarding the operation,
either that, with the instinct of an inborn refinement, he was
aware he ought not to manifest more shamefacedness than the lady
herself, or that he was hardly more accustomed to the sight of
gleaming fish than the bare feet of maidens.

"I'm thinkin', my leddy," he went on, in absolute simplicity, "that
sma' fut o' yer ain has danced mony a braw dance on mony a braw
flure."

"How old do you take me for then?" she rejoined, and went on drawing
the garment over her foot by the shortest possible stages.

"Ye'll no be muckle ower twenty," he said.