They were pleasant quiet men, and received me very kindly--for my cousin who had forgot some matter he had to do before he went into the country, was gone down into the City to see to it.

Mr.Grove, whom I learned later to be a lay brother of the Society, opened the door to me; and shewed me to the room where they were all three together.
They were all three of them just such men as you might meet anywhere, in coffee-houses or taverns, none of them under forty or over sixty years old.

Father Harcourt was seventy--but he was not there.

They were in sober suits, such as a lawyer might wear, and carried swords.

These were not all the Jesuits thereabouts; for I heard them speak of Father John Gavan and Father Anthony Turner (who were in the country on that day), and others.
As I talked with them, and gave my news and listened to theirs, again and again I thought of the marvellous misjudgments that were always passed upon the Society; of how men such as these were always thought to be plotting and conspiring, and how any charge against a Jesuit was always taken as proven scarcely before it was stated; and that not by common men only, but by educated gentlemen too, who should know better.
For their talk was of nothing but of the most harmless and Christian matters, and of such simplicity that no man who heard them could doubt their sincerity.