' Nevertheless, I dearly love my friend. I murmur at my own
dements, not at his worth.
"I have scribbled over all my paper, otherwise I verily believe I
should write more; however, I promise you another letter in a week or
two. Meanwhile I shall send this packet to Mr. Loftus, who is at St.
Petersburg, to forward it to you. Adieu, my dear mother! I am, with
reverence to my father and yourself.
"Your truly affectionate son,
"PEMBROKE SOMERSET.
"VILLANOW, _August_, 1792."
CHAPTER VI.
SOCIETY IN POLAND.
"TO LADY SOMERSET, SOMERSET CASTLE, ENGLAND.
[Written three weeks after the preceding.]
"You know, my dear mother, that your Pembroke is famous for his
ingenious mode of showing the full value of every favor he confers!
Can I then relinquish the temptation of telling you what I have left
to make you happy with this epistle?
"About five minutes ago, I was sitting on the lawn at the feet of the
countess, reading to her and the Princess Poniatowski the charming
poem of 'The Pleasures of Memory.' As both these ladies understand
English, they were admiring it, and paying many compliments to the
graces of my delivery, when the palatine presented himself, and told
me, if I had any commands for St. Petersburg, I must prepare them,
for a messenger was to set off on the next morning, by daybreak.' I
instantly sprang up, threw my book into the hand of Thaddeus, and
here I am in my own room scribbling to you!
"Even at the moment in which I dip my pen in the ink, my hurrying
imagination paints on my heart the situation of my beloved home when
this letter reaches you.
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