The lady's mood had changed during the last few moments, and she looked hard at the widow and spoke in a severe tone, as though such a charge as she brought was not to be believed.
"I—I don't know what to think," said the widow. "Of course, as Madam Drayton is your sister she could scarcely be infected with such heresy as these wild Quakers believe."
"I trow not, indeed. My sister was brought up in a true godly fashion, but the same charity that moved Master Drayton to take Simon as an apprentice without fee or reward, because you were a poor widow known to me to have lost so much by the plague and the great fire, may have moved her to help these poor children, if no one else would do it."
"Then you think my Sim would be quite safe there?" said the widow in a deprecating tone.
Madam Lowe looked surprised at the question. "Why should he not be safe?" she asked. "You told me the other day that he was learning his trade very well, and had certainly improved in his manners."
"But—but if his master should be a Quaker it would be little better than sending him where he would catch the plague, this new plague of heresy that is abroad, and for my Sim to turn Quaker would be worse than losing the others by the pestilence." And at the thought of all the sorrow and suffering she had endured through this scourge, the Widow Tompkins fairly burst into tears.
"There, don't cry—I am sure you are frightening yourself for nothing. I know my sister to be a gentle godly woman; no more like the wild fanatic Fox than you are. She attends her own parish church as you do, and therefore you may rest content that Sim is safe."
The widow allowed herself to be comforted by this assurance.
"It's all we've got to hold fast by in the way of knowing what to believe, for there's been so many changes in religion, as well as other things the last few years, that simple folk like me, who have no learning, hardly know what they ought to believe sometimes; but to have Sim turn Quaker would just break my heart, when I was looking forward to a little comfort after all my trouble."
"Oh, Simon will be a good son, and a comfort to you, I have no doubt," said the lady, rising to dismiss her visitor. "Take care that he is at church by seven o'clock next Sunday morning, for the vicar is going to catechise all the lads and wenches of the parish, and it will not do for Simon to be absent from his place in the chancel."