And, indeed, considering the whole affair calmly in my chamber, I did not wish to help it. I was convinced that I had done right in relieving Master Davis of my maintenance. I also felt sure of a faithful friend and counselor in Mistress Curtis. I was charmed with my new master and mistress, and saw no reason why I need not be happy in serving them. I had a little my doubts of my companion in waiting, Mistress Mandeville. I thought she looked prim and formal, but I would not allow myself to be set against her beforehand. Yes, I believed I had acted wisely, and was content to leave the result of my action in the hands of Him whom I had learned to consider my best friend. I knew I should always have the Davis family and Margaret Hall to fall back upon, if I needed such support. They had already done for me more than I could ever repay, were it only in bringing me to a knowledge of the Scriptures. Margaret, especially, had opened to me a great new world of thought, which could never be closed again, happen what might. Surely God had been very good to me, though for so many years I had never learned to love Him—never thought of Him if I could help it, and then only as one to be dreaded and propitiated if possible, and who, if I only made myself uncomfortable enough, might perhaps be won at least not utterly to destroy me. Let those testify who know by their own experience, what a change is made in the life when God's love is shed abroad in our hearts. But I must hasten on to my tale. 'Tis the nature of old folk to be garrulous, and I find I am no exception to the rule, especially when I have a pen in my hand. Just a week from my first visit to Suffolk House, I betook myself thither, accompanied by Mistress Davis, and followed by one of the men bearing my bundles. My great mail was to come later in the day. I remember St. George's clock was just striking nine as we passed near it, and I saw a poor woman, whom I knew at once had been a religious of some kind, standing under the porch. I had some loose silver in my pocket, and I could not forbear putting a couple of groats into her hand. She started and colored, and then thanked me eagerly, and turned quickly away. In a moment more, we saw her enter a baker's shop close by. "Poor thing, did she not look hungry?" said Mistress Davis. "You have given her one good meal, at all events." "She is, or rather has been, a religious," said I. "I am sure of it." "Very like, very like! I must try and speak with her when I come back. Theirs is a hard fate, poor souls!" "Yes, they do not all fall into such warm nests as I did!" I could not help saying, whereat she squeezed my hand lovingly.