"Well, I count so," saith she, "for 'tis a parcel o' _Sundays_ since first time thou told me of 'em: still, I'd like to see for myself." "Thou'lt see for thyself," saith _Isaac_. "Th' Lord's just th' same up yonder that He were down here." "Well, I reckon so," quoth _Madge_, in a tone of wonder. "Amn't I th' same maid up at th' Hall as I am here?" "Ay, but I mean He's as good as ever He were," _Isaac_ makes answer. "He were right good, He were, to yon poor gaumering [silly] _Thomas_,-- eh, but he were a troublesome chap, was _Thomas_! He said he wouldn't believe it were th' Lord without he stuck his hand right into th' bad place of His side. He were a hard one to deal wi', was yon _Thomas_." "Did He let him stick it in?" saith _Madge_, opening her eyes. "Yea, He told him to come and stick't in, if he could not believe without: but he mun have been a dizard [foolish man], that he couldn't-- that's what I think," quoth old _Isaac_. "Was he daft?" saith _Madge_. "Well, nay, I reckon not," saith he. "I'll tell ye how it were," saith she. "His soul was daft--that's it-- right th' inside of him, ye ken." "Ay, I reckon thou'rt about right," quoth _Isaac_. "Well, I wouldn't have wanted that," saith she. "I'd have wist by His face and the way He said `Good morrow, _Thomas_!' I'd never have wanted to hurt Him more to see whether it were Him. So He'd rather be hurt than leave _Thomas_ a-wondering! Well--it were just like Him." "He's better than men be, _Madge_," saith Aunt _Joyce_, tenderly. "That's none so much to say, Mistress _Joyce_," saith _Madge_. "Men's bad uns. And some's rare bad uns. So's women, belike. I'd liever ha' th' door betwixt." _Madge_ hath alway had a strange fantasy to shut the half-door betwixt her and them she loveth not. There be very few she will let come withinside. I reckon them that may might be counted of her fingers. "Well, _Madge_, there shall be no need to shut to the door in Heaven," saith Aunt _Joyce_. "The gates be never shut by day; and there is no night there." "They've no night! Eh, that's best thing ever you told me yet!" quoth _Madge_. "I canna 'bide th' dark. It'll be right bonnie, it will!" Softly Aunt _Joyce_ made answer. "`Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty; they shall behold the Land that is very far off.'" _Madge's_ head came up from the pillow. "Eh, that's grand! And that's Him?" "Ay, my maid." "Ay, that's like," saith she. "It couldn't be nobody else. And Him that could make th' roses and lilies mun be good to look at. 'Tisn't always so now: but I reckon they've things tidy up yon. They'll fit like, ye ken. But, Mistress _Joyce_, do ye tell me, will us be any wiser up yon?" I saw the water in Aunt _Joyce's_ eyes, as she arose; and she bent down and kissed _Madge_ on the brow. "Dear heart," quoth she, "thou shalt know Him then as well as He knows thee. Is that plenty, _Madge_?"