Now a piece of news had reached me at Dover that made me pretty content; and that was that His Majesty desired me to have lodgings now in Whitehall.  These were very hard to come by, except a man had great influence; and I was happy to think that such as I had was from the King himself.  So I did not return northwards this time from the Strand, but held on, and so to the gate of Whitehall.  Here I was stopped and asked my name.

I gave it; and the officer saluted me very civilly.

“Your lodgings are ready, sir,” said he.  “Mr. Chiffinch was very urgent about them.  And he bade me tell you you would find visitors there, if you came before eight o’clock.”

It was now scarcely gone seven; but I thought very little of my visitors, supposing they might perhaps be Mr. Chiffinch himself and a friend:  so I inquired very, leisurely where the lodgings were situate.

“They are my Lord Peterborough’s old lodgings, sir,” said the man.  “He hath moved elsewhere.  They look out upon the Privy Garden and the bowling-green; or, to be more close, on the trees between them.”

This was a fine piece of news indeed; for these lodgings were among the best.  I was indeed become a person of importance.

There were two entrances to these lodgings—­one from the Stone Gallery, and the other from the garden; but that into the garden was only a little door, whose use was not greatly encouraged, because of the personages that walked there; so I went up the Stone Gallery, between all the books and the cabinets, and so to my own door; with my James behind me.  My other men I bade follow when they had bestowed the horses and found their own quarters.

It was a fine entrance, with a new shield over the door; lately scraped white, for the reception of my own arms.  I knocked upon it, and a fellow opened; and when I had told him my name, he let me through; and I went upstairs to the parlour that looked over the garden; and there, to my happiness were my visitors.  For they were none other than my dear love herself and her maid.

I cannot tell what that was to me, to find her there....  The maid was sent into the little writing-room, next door, into which my visitors would usually be shewn; and we two sat down on the window-seat.  Dolly looked not a day older:  she was in a fine dress.

“See,” she said, “you have caught me again at Court?  Will you send me away again this time?”

She told me presently that she and her father were come up to town for a few days; but must be gone again directly.  They had written to Mr. Chiffinch demanding news of me, and when should I be at liberty to come to Hare Street; and he had told them that at anyrate not yet for a while, and that they had best come and see me in my new lodgings.  I was sorry that he had said I could not go to Hare Street for the present—­though I had expected no less; but I soon forgot it again in her dear presence.