who salute no one with the hat, and who talk so strangely, saying: 'thee' and 'thou' even when addressing their betters.
One George Fox had a great hold on her.

He was quite a youth then, but she thought him a saint.

'Tis he, methinks, poisoned her mind against me, and caused her to curse me on her deathbed." She gave a little shudder--of superstition, perhaps.

The maternal curse--she felt--was mayhap bearing fruit after all.

Master Skyffington's watery eyes expressed gentle sympathy.