"Well, I will tell you," she answered, in a confidential tone, "though I am afraid you will be vexed. You see, when you were so very ill, I went one day to your cabinet to see if I could find any smelling-salts or the like, and there, lying with some other trinkets, I saw a silver medal with a picture of the Virgin thereon." "Yes," I answered, as she paused; "I know what you mean. A poor old woman at home gave it me for a keepsake." "Well, that was not all," continued Mrs. Judith. "I put my hand back in the recess to take up a bottle, I saw there, and I suppose I touched a spring, for a door opened at the back, and there lay a rosary and crucifix, and a little carven stone image of some saint or other." "I know nothing about that," I answered, surprised enough. "I did not know there was any such door. The things must have been there a very long time, I think. Did you take them out, Mrs. Judith?" "Not I, Mistress Merton!" answered the dear old woman. "I had no call to be prying into your secrets, if you have any. So I just laid matters as they were before, and locked the cabinet, that no one else should meddle. But oh, my dear, you are not a Papist nor a Puritan, are you?" I could not help laughing, but stopped, as I saw the tears in the old lady's eyes. "Dearest Mrs. Judith," said I, "I begin to think that I must be just in the right place, since Lady Jemima calls me a Puritan, and you think me a Papist. But I solemnly assure you I am neither Papist nor Puritan, Anabaptist nor Turk, nor do I worship the sun and moon, as Doctor Parnell says the old heathens used to do on the great barrow up on the moor. I am just a simple Churchwoman, as all my family have been. But Mrs. Judith, if you are so startled at seeing a little medal in my cabinet, what do you think of some other rooms in the house, and of the pictures, Mr. Penrose has just put up in the chapel?" "I like them not, my dear,—I like them not," said Mrs. Judith, shaking her head, solemnly. "It looks too much like bringing back the old religion for denying of which my grandfather died bravely at the stake. But I am so glad you are not a Papist! Do have some of this junket, now do, my dear heart! I made it with my own hands, and the clotted cream is an inch thick on the top." I was in no ways averse to the junket, and so all was well once more between Mrs. Judith and me. I cannot but note here what a different spirit in the two! Lady Jemima telling every one she can get to listen to her of the great discovery she fancies she has made to my disadvantage—Mrs. Judith locking up my cabinet, lest some one else should see what she had seen and I be injured thereby.