ed thousand pounds
sterling, the annual income of George of Denmark, Duke of Cumberland,
the queen's husband. Besides this, it was announced that several bills
assented to by her Majesty were to be brought back to the House by the
Commissioners of the Crown empowered and charged to sanction them. This
raised the sitting to a royal one. The peers all wore their robes over
their usual court or ordinary dress. These robes, similar to that which
had been thrown over Gwynplaine, were alike for all, excepting that the
dukes had five bands of ermine, trimmed with gold; marquises, four;
earls and viscounts, three; and barons, two. Most of the lords entered
in groups. They had met in the corridors, and were continuing the
conversations there begun. A few came in alone. The costumes of all were
solemn; but neither their attitudes nor their words corresponded with
them. On entering, each one bowed to the throne.

The peers flowed in. The series of great names marched past with scant
ceremonial, the public not being present. Leicester entered, and shook
Lichfield's hand; then came Charles Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborough and
Monmouth, the friend of Locke, under whose advice he had proposed the
recoinage of money; then Charles Campbell, Earl of Loudoun, listening to
Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke; then Dorme, Earl of Carnarvon; then Robert
Sutton, Baron Lexington, son of that Lexington who recommended Charles
II. to banish Gregorio Leti, the historiographer, who was so ill-advised
as to try to become a historian; then Thomas Bellasys, Viscount
Falconberg, a handsome old man; and the three cousins, Howard, Earl of
Bindon, Bowes Howard, Earl of Berkshire, and Stafford Howard, Earl of
Stafford--all together; then John Lovelace, Baron Lovelace, which
peerage became extinct in 1736, so that Richardson was enabled to
introduce Lovelace in his book, and to create a type under the name. All
these personages--celebrated each in his own way, either in politics or
in war, and of whom many were an honour to England--were laughing and
talking.

It was history, as it were, seen in undress.

In less than half an hour the House was nearly full. This was to be
expected, as the sitting was a royal one. What was more unusual was the
eagerness of the conversations. The House, so sleepy not long before,
now hummed like a hive of bees.

The arrival of the peers who had come in late had wakened them up. These
lords had brought news. It was strange that the