"There is no fairer lady at Court, and very few so honest." I hurried to let him know that Mistress Barbara and I were old friends.
He laughed as he answered, "If you'd be more you must lose no time.

It is impossible that she should refuse many more suitors, and a nobleman of great estate is now sighing for her so loudly as to be audible from Whitehall to Temple Bar." I heard the news with interest, with pride, and with a touch of jealousy; but at this time my own fortunes so engrossed me that soon I harked back to them, and, taking my courage in both hands, was about to ask my companion if he had chanced ever to hear of Cydaria, when he gave a new turn to the talk, by asking carelessly, "You are a Churchman, sir, I suppose ?" "Why, yes," I answered, with a smile, and perhaps a bit of a stare.
"What did you conceive me to be, sir ?--a Ranter, or a Papist ?" "Pardon, pardon, if you find offence in my question," he answered, laughing.

"There are many men who are one or the other, you know." "The country has learnt that to its sorrow," said I sturdily.
"Ay," he said, in a dreamy way, "and maybe will learn it again." And without more he fell to describing the famous regiment to which I was to belong, adding at the end: "And if you like a brawl, the 'prentices in the City will always find one for a gentleman of the King's Guards.

Take a companion or two with you when you walk east of Temple Bar.

By the way, sir, if the question may be pardoned, how came you by your commission?
For we know that merit, standing alone, stands generally naked also." I was much inclined to tell him all the story, but a shamefacedness came over me.