When I came to my chamber, it had a very pleasant aspect to me.  The curtains were across the windows; a great fire blazed on the hearth—­(I had heard my Cousin Dolly’s footsteps pass across the landing, before she went to bed,—­no doubt to put more wood on)—­my bed was ready, and on the round table in the middle was a jug of horn-beam branches with some winter flowers.  It was six months since I had been here; and matters were considerably better with me now than they had been then.  Then I was being hunted; now I was free from all anxiety on that score:  then I had been going up to London to resign what little position I had; now I was re-established, owing to what I had done in France, on a better footing than ever.  More than all, I knew now, without any doubt at all, what my heart told me of my Cousin Dolly; and I was here, with every liberty to commend my suit to her.

Before I went to bed I opened the little secret cupboard by my bed, and put into it three or four private papers I had, and amongst them that written in cipher that I had had from Mr. Rumbald.  Then I went to bed; and dreamed of Dolly.

Then began for me a time of great peace and serenity.

First came Christmas, with its homely joys, and Twelfth night on which we cut and ate a great cake that Dolly had made; then there was the winter’s work to be done in preparation for the spring; and then spring itself, with the crocuses sprouting between the joints of the paved walk round the house; and the daffodils in the long box-bed beneath the limes.  I write these little things down, for it was principally by these things that I remember those months; and the noise of the world outside seemed as sounds heard in a dream.  I went up to London, now and again—­but not very often; and saw His Majesty in private twice, and he honoured me by asking my advice again on certain French affairs; but, for the time, all these things were secondary in my mind to the cows of Hare Street and to how the pigs did.  It is marvellous how men’s minds can come down to such matters, and become absorbed in them, and let the rest of the world go hang.  I thought now and again of my mission from Rome; yet I do not think I was faithless to it; for there was nothing at that time which I could do for the King; and he expressly had desired me not to mix much with the Court and so become known.  The truth of the matter was that at this time he was largely occupied with a certain woman, whose name had best not be spoken; and when His Majesty ran upon those lines, he could think of little else.  I sent my reports regularly to Rome; and the Cardinal Secretary seemed satisfied; and so therefore was I.