In spite of her mother's chafings and warnings lest their fashionable friends should find out that they were related to Quakers, Audrey Lowe insisted upon spending the greater part of her time at Soper Lane during her aunt's illness; so that the girls were necessarily thrown together a good deal, and thus had learned to know and appreciate the selflessness each displayed in working for Dame Drayton and her family. When at last the day of parting came, it was not such an unmingled joy to Bessie as she had anticipated, for her heart clung to this friend, who was so like and yet so unlike herself in all externals of character and surroundings. "I shall never be able to say a word against steeple-houses and the people who go there, after knowing thee, Audrey," she said, the last evening they spent together. They were sitting on a box in the keeping-room, waiting for the waggon to come and fetch the last of their goods to the wherry, which would carry them to the schooner chartered by Sir William Penn to convey them to their new home. The girls sat hand in hand, their hearts too full to say much, until Bessie spoke about the steeple-houses. "I am glad," said Audrey in a whisper, "for I never liked to hear thee speak of what I loved and reverenced with such contempt. I cannot understand how thee can do it, when it is God's house of prayer." But this was treading on dangerous ground, and had been the most thorny subject of discussion between the two girls; so Audrey hastened to add— "I have learned to understand what a real Quaker is from knowing thee, Bessie; and I shall always try to help them if I can, and they need my help." "Ah, and I fear there will be many poor Friends left behind here in London who will need all the help man can give them," answered Bessie. "For we cannot all go in this ship to another land; and Friend William Penn says it would not be good for us or for England to carry all the Quakers away. We have had our share of the battle, and fought for the truth and for liberty of conscience, as God strengthened us to do. Now He will strengthen others to take our places, while we go to plant the truth in other lands. Although Friend William Penn hath been imprisoned for the truth again and again, he will not come with us now, but stay and fight the battle of religious liberty here; for it can only grow and become strong through fighting and struggling—hard as it may be for us who suffer." "Oh, Bessie, I cannot bear to think there should be all this fighting about it," said Audrey, in a pained tone.