we must see what
company you keep. For example, on whom else do you think of waiting when
you are set up in London?"

He looked steadily at me, a slight frown on his brow, yet a smile, and
not an unkind one, on his lips. I grew hot, and knew that I grew red
also.

"I am acquainted with few in London, my lord," I stammered, "and with
those not well."

"Those not well, indeed," he echoed, the pucker deepening and the smile
vanishing. Yet the smile came again as he rose and clapped me on the
shoulder.

"You're an honest lad, Simon," he said, "even though it may have pleased
God to make you a silly one. And, by Heaven, who would have all lads
wise? Go to London, learn to know more folk, learn to know better those
whom you know. Bear yourself as a gentleman, and remember, Simon,
whatsoever else the King may be, yet he is the King."

Saying this with much emphasis, he led me gently to the door.

"Why did he say that about the King?" I pondered as I walked homeward
through the park; for although what we all, even in the country, knew of
the King gave warrant enough for the words, my lord had seemed to speak
them to me with some special meaning, and as though they concerned me
more than most men. Yet what, if I left aside Betty's foolish talk, as
my lord surely did, had I to do with the King, or with what he might be
besides the King?

About this time much stir had been aroused in the country by the
dismissal from all his offices of that great Minister and accomplished
writer, the Earl of Clarendon, and by the further measures which his
enemies threatened against him. The village elders were wont to assemble
on the days when the post came in and discuss eagerly the news brought
from London. The affairs of Government troubled my head very little, but
in sheer idleness I used often to join them, wondering to see them so
perturbed at the happening of things which made mighty little difference
in our retired corner. Thus I was in the midst of them, at the King and
Crown Tavern, on the Green, two days after I had talked with my lord
Quinton. I sat with a mug of ale before me, engrossed in my own thoughts
and paying little heed to what passed, when, to my amazement, the
postman, leaping from his horse, came straight across to me, holding out
in his hand a large packet of important appearance. To receive a letter
was a rare event in my life, and a rarer followed, setting the cap on
my surprise. For the man, though he was full