You know, Mr. Somerset,
that I have a mother and six sisters in Wales, whose support depends
on my success in life; if my preferment be stopped now, they must
necessarily be involved in a distress which makes me shudder.
"I cannot add more, sir; I know well your character for generosity,
and I therefore rest upon it with the utmost confidence. I shall
detain the letter which you did me the honor to enclose for my Lady
Somerset till I receive your decision; and ever, whilst I live, will
I henceforth remain firm to my old and favorite maxim, which I
adopted from the glorious epistle of Horace to Numicius. Perhaps you
may not recollect the lines? They run thus:--
Nil admirari, prope res est una, Numici,
Solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum.
"I have the honor to be,
"Dear sir,
"Your most obedient servant,
"ANDREW LOFTUS.
"St. PETERSBURG, _September_, 1792."
"P. S. Just as I was about sealing this packet, the English
ambassador forwarded to me a short letter from your father, in which
he desires us to quit Russia, and to make the best of our way to
England, where you are wanted on a most urgent occasion. He explains
himself no further, only repeating his orders in express commands
that we set off instantly. I wait your directions."
This epistle disconcerted Mr. Somerset. He always guessed the
Baroness Surowkoff was amusing herself with his vain and pedantic
preceptor; but he never entertained a suspicion that her ladyship
would carry her pleasantry to so cruel an excess.
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