"Of course, General; am I not yours, body and soul?"
"I know it, my friend: but enough of politics at present. Pray accompany me to the apartments of madame Miramón; she eagerly desires to see you."
"This gracious invitation fills me with joy, General; and yet I should have liked to speak with you about a very important matter."
"Later, later, a truce, I implore you, to business. Perhaps it relates to a new defection, or a traitor to punish? During the last few days I have heard enough of such bad news to desire the enjoyment of a few hours' respite, as the ancient said, 'tomorrow serious business.'"
"Yes," don Jaime answered significantly, "and on the morrow it was too late."
"Well, I trust to God. Let us enjoy the present. It is the only blessing left us, as the future no longer belongs to us."
And taking don Jaime by the arm, he gently led him to the apartments of madame Miramón, a charming, timid, and loving woman—the true guardian angel of the general; who was terrified by her husband's greatness and was only happy in private life, between her two children.