I could not refrain from smiling; for indeed it was as if the sun had risen on my dreariness. "It is very good news," I said. "It is from my cousin--the 'pretty cousin,' Mr. Chiffinch. She is come to town with her maid; and asks me to sup with her." "Well; take your two men when you go to see her," said he, laughing a little. "They can entertain the maid, and you the mistress." * * * * * I cannot say how wonderfully the whole aspect of the world was changed to me, as I set out in a little hired coach I used sometimes, with my two men, half an hour later, for my old lodgings in Covent Garden where, she said, she had come that evening. It was a very short letter; but it was very sweet to me. She said only that she could wait no more; that she knew how ill things must be going with me, and that she must see with her own eyes that I was not dead altogether. I had striven in my letters to her to make as light as I could of my troubles; but I suppose that her woman's wit and her love had pierced my poor disguises. At least here she was. * * * * * She was standing, all ready to greet me, in that old parlour of mine where I had first met her six years ago; and she was more beautiful now, a thousand times, in my eyes, than even then. The candles were lighted all round the walls, and the curtains across the windows; and her maid was not there. She had already changed her riding dress, and was in her evening gown with her string of little pearls. As I close my eyes now I can see her still, as if she stood before me. Her lips were a little parted, and her flushed cheeks and her bright eyes made all the room heaven for me. I had not seen her for six months. "Well, Cousin Roger," she said--no more. * * * * * Presently, even before supper came in, she had begun her questioning. "Cousin Roger," she said--(we two were by the fire, she on a couch and I in a great chair)--"Cousin Roger, you have treated me shamefully. You have told me nothing, except that you were in trouble; and that I could have guessed for myself. I am come to town for three days--no more: my father for a long time forbade me even to do that. If he were not gone to Stortford for the horse-fair I should not be here now." "He does not know you are come to town!" I cried. She shook her head, like a child, and her eyes twinkled with merriment. "He thinks I am still minding the sheep," she said. "But that is not the point. Cousin Roger, I care nothing whatever for His Majesty's affairs, nor for secret service, nor for anything else of that kind. But I care very much that you should be in trouble and not tell me what it is."