the majority were dressed in the most modern style, and among them I saw, to my surprise, several eminent men of letters whom I had the honour of knowing. There were two or three women in the company. I should have risen to my feet to greet these unexpected guests, but all power of motion appeared to have deserted me, and I could only lie still and listen to their conversation, which I soon perceived to be all about myself.
"Egad!" exclaimed a rough, weather-beaten man, who was smoking a long churchwarden pipe at my end of the table, "my heart softens for him. Why, gossips, we've been in the same straits ourselves. Gadzooks, never did mother feel more concern for her eldest born than I when Rory Random went out to make his own way in the world."
"Right, Tobias, right!" cried another man, seated at my very elbow. "By my troth, I lost more flesh over poor Robin on his island, than had I the sweating sickness twice told. The tale was well-nigh done when in swaggers my Lord of Rochester—a merry gallant, and one whose word in matters literary might make or mar. `How now, Defoe,' quoth he, `hast a tale on hand?' `Even so, your lordship,' I returned. `A right merry one, I trust,' quoth he. `Discourse unto me concerning thy heroine, a comely lass, Dan, or I mistake.' `Nay,' I replied, `there is no heroine in the matter.' `Split not your phrases,' quoth he; `thou weighest every word like a scald attorney. Speak to me of thy principal female character, be she heroine or
