"Why, it was--but verily I believe my father thought there was danger of having two fools at his court, instead of one. It was after this fashion. Jerry presumed a good deal upon the encouragement his Highness had given him--for the Protector loves a jest as well as any, when there is nobody by to repeat it to the grave ones: and his chaplain, Jerry White, chimed in with his humour, and was well-timed in his conceits; and this so pleased my good father, that he suffered him much in private about his person. So he fell, or pretended to fall, desperately in love with my giddy self. It was just at the time, too, when Charles Stuart made his overtures of marriage, that so caught my mother's fancy; and my imagination was marvellously moved by two such strings to my bow--a prince and a preacher--a rogue and a fool:--only think of it, Constantia! However, Jerry grew much too tender, and I began to think seriously I was going too far; so I told my sister Mary, and I am sure she told my father; for, as I was passing through a private anteroom at Whitehall, his reverence was there in ambush, and commenced his usual jargon of love and dove, faithfulness and fidelity, gentleness and gentility, and at last fell upon his knees, while I, half laughing, and half wondering how his rhapsody would end, as end it must--Well, there! fancy Jerry's countenance, clasped hands, and bended knees! and I pulling my hood (I had just returned from a walk) over my face to conceal my merriment, trying to disengage my hand from the creature's claws--when, I really don't know how, but there stood my father before me, with a half smile on his lip, and his usual severity of aspect.