We
became great friends, the Lady Jane and I, for it was not
possible for me to drink three bottles of port after dinner like
those Devonshire gentlemen, and so I would seek refuge in her
drawing-room, where evening after evening she would play the
harpsichord and I would sing the songs of my own land. In those
peaceful moments I would find a refuge from the misery which
filled me, when I reflected that my regiment was left in the
front of the enemy without the chief whom they had learned to
love and to follow.
Indeed, I could have torn my hair when I read in the English
papers of the fine fighting which was going on in Portugal and on
the frontiers of Spain, all of which I had missed through my
misfortune in falling into the hands of Milord Wellington.
From what I have told you of the Lady Jane you will have guessed
what occurred, my friends. Etienne Gerard is thrown into the
company of a young and beautiful woman. What must it mean for
him? What must it mean for her? It was not for me, the guest,
the captive, to make love to the sister of my host.
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