The prisoner, she said, lived with her, and had done so for many years. Thirty years ago her sister had brain fever, and lost completely her sense of hearing. She was also detained for a short time in an asylum, out of which place she came to live with her. She had been ill many times since, and lately had not seemed happy. Yesterday the witness went to fetch home some work, and when she got back her sister had disappeared. Under an inverted basin on the table she found two pennies, a piece of cake, and a note which read as follows: ‘DEAR EMMA, ‘I have been a great burden to you; for more than thirty years you have worked for me, and now you are getting old, and will not be able to work for me much longer. Good-bye; you will never see me again.’ She begged the magistrate to allow her to take her sister home again; her sister was no burden to her. She could easily keep her, and would promise to look well after her. The magistrate kindly agreed to this, and asked me to render what help I could, so I went home with them; and I shall not forget going, for that poor little home is before me now, with all its spare, old-fashioned, respectable poverty, and its scrupulous cleanliness. It bore eloquent witness to the work and struggles of the pair. A week later I was in that little home again on a very glad errand. I had ten golden sovereigns to give them, and my wife was with me to see the joy of the sisters, and to share in my pleasure. Ten golden sovereigns! What would they not do for the sisters? Coal, food, warm clothing, and rest were all in those shining bits of metal. I loved the chink of the metal for the sake of the two women. The skinny arms were bared to the elbows, the gnarled and twisted fingers were in the soap-suds when I told her my errand, and put the money before her. She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then, straightening up her old bent body, she lifted up her hands before me and said, almost fiercely, ‘Sir, do you see these hands? For thirty years they have worked for and kept my poor sister. I have had no charity from parson or parish; not one penny have I received from anyone, and, please God, I never will. I can work for my sister. Take the money back to the sender. I dare say it was meant kindly, but there is none of it for us.’