It was on the last Thursday but one, in January, to be precise, that I was coming back from a ride, having been down the river-bank past Chelsea, where I had seen, I remember, Winchester House—­that great place with all its courts—­and my Lord Bishop returning in his coach:  I do not remember anything else that I saw, for I was very heavy indeed and more than ever determined that, if matters did not mend very soon, I would be off to France (where, six months later, I should be obliged to go in any case when my estates would come to me), if not to Rome.  It was near five months now that I had lived in disgrace, His Majesty not speaking to me above three or four times all that while, and then only to avoid incivility.

I could not understand why it was that he behaved so to me.  He must know by now, surely, that I had never been anything but faithful to him; and I strove to put away the thought that it was mere caprice, and that he often behaved so to others.  But I am afraid that such was the case.  There were plenty of folks at Court, or who had left it, who had once been in high favour and had ceased to be, through no fault of their own.  Neither would I seek consolation from any other source.  The Duke was civil to me whenever we met, and I suppose he knew that I was in trouble, but he never spoke of it.  Indeed it was a sad change from the time when I had returned so joyfully, and found my new lodgings waiting for me.

* * * * *

As we came up through Westminster I was riding alone, for I had bidden my man James to go aside to a little shop that was almost on our route, behind the abbey, to buy me something that I needed—­I think it was a pair of cuffs; but I am not sure.  It was very near dark, and the lamps were not yet lighted.

As I came towards the gate of Whitehall, I was riding very carelessly and heavily, paying little attention to anything, for I was thinking, as it happened, of Dolly, with an extraordinary misery in my heart, and of how I should ever tell her (unless matters mended soon) of what her father had done; and whether in some manner he would not yet contrive to separate us.  My horse swerved a little, and I pulled him up, for there were a couple of fellows immediately crossing before me.  I saw that they looked hard at me; but I noticed no more, for at that instant I heard a horse coming up behind me, and turned to see that it was James.  He looked a little strange, thought I, but he said nothing:  only he came up, right beside me, and so rode with me through the gate.

He said nothing then, nor did I; and it was not until I was dismounted and a fellow had run out to take the horses that he asked if he might speak with me.

“Why, certainly,” said I; and we turned together into the Court.

“Sir,” he said, so soon as we were out of earshot of the guard, “did you see those two fellows without the gate?” I said that I had.