Bessie was allowed to go and see her father just before he was taken from Newgate; and now to hear at last that her mother would be released to go with them to the new strange home across the seas was almost too much joy for the poor girl.

"We shall see her, Dorothy! we shall see her! thee and me; and we shall not be afraid of people knowing we are Quakers. Verily, God hath been good in giving us such a friend as Sir William Penn, who is indeed our champion and protector."

But Audrey was by no means so delighted as Bessie over the impending change. The two girls had learned to know and love each other by this time, for each had been drawn to the other by the mutual helpfulness that had kept business and household going during the long illness of Dame Drayton and the imprisonment of her husband.

It had seemed impossible at first that pretty, fashionable Audrey Lowe, whose father lived by ministering at a steeple-house, and the stern, uncompromising Bessie Westland could ever be friends, in the closest sense of that word. But circumstances had thrown them so closely together the last few months, that they had learned to look below the surface they each so much disliked in the other, and there they could recognise the true spirit of Christ Jesus, who came not to be ministered unto, but to minister.

In spite of her mother's chafings and warnings lest their fashionable friends should find out that they were related to Quakers, Audrey Lowe insisted upon spending the greater part of her time at Soper Lane during her aunt's illness; so that the girls were necessarily thrown together a good deal, and thus had learned to know and appreciate the selflessness each displayed in working for Dame Drayton and her family. When at last the day of parting came, it was not such an unmingled joy to Bessie as she had anticipated, for her heart clung to this friend, who was so like and yet so unlike herself in all externals of character and surroundings.

"I shall never be able to say a word against steeple-houses and the people who go there, after knowing thee, Audrey," she said, the last evening they spent together.

They were sitting on a box in the keeping-room, waiting for the waggon to come and fetch the last of their goods to the wherry, which would carry them to the schooner chartered by Sir William Penn to convey them to their new home. The girls sat hand in hand, their hearts too full to say much, until Bessie spoke about the steeple-houses.

"I am glad," said Audrey in a whisper, "for I never liked to hear thee speak of what I loved and reverenced with such contempt. I cannot understand how thee can do it, when it is God's house of prayer."

But this was treading on dangerous ground, and had been the most thorny subject of discussion between the two girls; so Audrey hastened to add—

"I have learned to understand what a real Quaker is from knowing thee, Bessie; and I shall always try to help them if I can, and they need my help."