We returned to London, having been treated with all sorts of cheer and noble freedom by that most religious and virtuous lady. She was now preparing to go for Ireland with her husband, made Lord Deputy, and went to this country house and ancient seat of her father and family, to set things in order during her absence; but never were good people and neighbors more concerned than all the country (the poor especially) for the departure of this charitable woman; everyone was in tears, and she as unwilling to part from them. There was among them a maiden of primitive life, the daughter of a poor laboring man, who had sustained her parents (some time since dead) by her labor, and has for many years refused marriage, or to receive any assistance from the parish, besides the little hermitage my lady gives her rent-free; she lives on four pence a day, which she gets by spinning; says she abounds and can give alms to others, living in great humility and content, without any apparent affectation, or singularity; she is continually working, praying, or reading, gives a good account of her knowledge in religion, visits the sick; is not in the least given to talk; very modest, of a simple not unseemingly behavior; of a comely countenance, clad very plain, but clean and tight. In sum, she appears a saint of an extraordinary sort, in so religious a life, as is seldom met with in villages now-a-days.