"No doubt, no doubt!" said Dame Yeo, for such I found was her name. "Fresh air and good food are better than doctor stuff. You are not from this part of the country, Madam, or so I judge, from your speech?" I told her I was from a little village not far from Chester. "Chester!" said she, musingly. "I had a sister that married and went to live somewhere near Chester. Her husband was a sailor, and when he went away on his long voyage to the Indies, Madge went to live with his old mother. She was much older than I. I doubt she is not alive. A fine stout lad was Thomas Crump, and Madge was a handsome maid as ever I saw. But she would be near a hundred an' she were living. I am past eighty, myself." The resemblance to my old friend was explained. "I can give you news of your sister, I believe," said I. "She is still living in one of the almshouses in Saintswell, and though old, as you say, is well and cheerful. I saw her the day before I left home." Never was any poor old creature so pleased. The tears ran down her withered cheeks, as she thanked God again and again for sending her news of her sister. I told her all I could think of about Dame Crump, and when I had stayed as long as I could, I rose to go. "Come again, my dear, tender soul! My dear young lady, now do, wont-e?" she said, detaining me with a trembling hand. "It does seem to do me good to see you!" "And I am sure you have done me good," I answered. "It is so pleasant to talk of home." "Aye, that it is—that it is!" replied Goody Yeo. "There is no place like home, my maid; now is there? There, bless thy heart! I didn't mean to make thee cry. Don't-e cry, now, but keep up a good heart, dear soul, and when you are downcast, think about the home above. We shall all meet there, you know!" "Can I do aught for you, Goody, before I go?" I asked, brushing the drops from my eyes. "If it wouldn't be asking too much, if you would just take the Bible and read me a psalm and chapter. My eyes are not worth much nowadays, though I do spell out a verse now and then." "What shall I read?" I asked. "Oh, the psalms for the day, first of all." So I read the psalms for the day, the old woman listening devoutly, her wrinkled face full of peace. Then, at her request, I read the last chapter of Revelations. "And to think that is all ours—our purchased inheritance!" said Goody, when I had done. "Truly we need not murmur over the hardships of the way when it leads to such a home at last." The old woman does not seem to have any of those doubts which Mr. Penrose thinks we ought to have, to keep us humble. I would have liked to talk farther with her, but I had stayed too long already. I see the cushion of her chair is worn out. I will beg some pretty piece of my Lady, and when Betty has finished her present work, she shall make a patchwork cushion for Goody Yeo.