"Yes; any one who lives with my step-dame has a good home," answered Mistress Hall. "I would all knew it as well as poor little Cicely. Tell me, Mistress Loveday, do you think my husband guilty of sacrilege because he bought a convent organ to save it from the fire and the melting-pot?" "Not in the least," I answered. "I only wish he had that one I used to play on at Dartford." "Sometimes I wish Philippa could have her way and go into a convent," said Mistress Hall. "Perhaps she would be more content." "I think it would be an excellent thing," I answered. "A month or two under Mother Joanna and a few times of bread and water, and being set to scour the flags on her hands and knees, would teach her to keep her tongue in better order." "After all, that would be but an outward reformation," said Mistress Hall, thoughtfully. "It skills not keeping silence when the heart is full of anger and uncharitableness." "Under your favor, I think it skills a good deal," I could not help saying. "At least, one does not vex others, and besides, in mine own case, when I am angry, I find the more I say, the angrier I grow." "Perhaps you are right so far as that goes," answered Margaret; "but I pray you have patience with poor Philippa. It is hard for her to have her will so constantly crossed." "She would have it crossed with a good crab-tree twig an she were a pupil of our house in Dartford," said I, and there the matter ended for the present. When we went down to dinner, we found the party increased by Master Hall, Margaret's husband, a tall, stout man, big enough to put his delicate little wife in his pocket, and with a face beaming with good-nature, which his manner did not belie. The elder children took their dinner at the schools, which were at some distance, but the little ones came to the table and it was clear by their smiles and looks that their big brother-in-law was a welcome guest. I was especially pleased by the respectful affection which both Master and Mistress Hall showed to their step-dame; but, indeed, it would be a hard heart that did not love Mistress Davis. Of course, I did not speak before my elders at table, but I listened with all my ears. I found out that Master Hall was a bookseller in St. Paul's Churchyard, and had a license to print and sell Bibles. I gathered that he was not as rich as his father-in-law, and indeed Mistress Hall's dress was plain compared to that of her step-mother, or even mine own, though it was most becomingly fancied and as neat and fresh as a daisy. The talk was most interesting to me, running as it did on the sale and use of books, especially Bibles. "The demand increases more and more," said Master Hall. "We cannot work our presses fast enough to supply it. But I bear some new restriction is to be put upon the sale and use of the books." "I am sorry for that," said his wife. "I would fain see the time when every plowman and shepherd might have a Bible of his own."