He was so convinced he was on the way to success that he became impatient at the reflection that he could not possibly see Mrs. Abington until the evening. But while he was in this state his servant announced a visitor—one with whom he was not familiar, but who gave his name as Colonel Gwyn.
Full of surprise, he ordered Colonel Gwyn to be shown into the room. He recollected having met him at a dinner at the Reynolds's, and once at the Hornecks' house in Westminster; but why he should pay a visit to Brick Court Goldsmith was at a loss to know. He, however, greeted Colonel Gwyn as if he considered it to be one of the most natural occurrences in the world for him to appear at that particular moment.
“Dr. Goldsmith,” said the visitor when he had seated himself, “you have no doubt every reason to be surprised at my taking the liberty of calling upon you without first communicating with you.”
“Not at all, sir,” said Goldsmith. “'Tis a great compliment you offer to me. Bear in mind that I am sensible of it, sir.”
“You are very kind, sir. Those who have a right to speak on the subject have frequently referred to you as the most generous of men.”
“Oh, sir, I perceive that you have been talking with some persons whose generosity was more noteworthy than their judgment.”
And once again he gave an example of the Goldsmith bow which Garrick had so successfully caricatured.
“Nay, Dr. Goldsmith, if I thought so I would not be here to-day. The fact is, sir, that I—I—i' faith, sir, I scarce know how to tell you how it is I appear before you in this fashion.”
“You do not need to have an excuse, I do assure you, Colonel Gwyn. You are a friend of my best friend—Sir Joshua Reynolds.”
“Yes, sir, and of other friends, too, I would fain hope. In short, Dr. Goldsmith, I am here because I know how highly you stand in the esteem of—of—well, of all the members of the Horneck family.”