“My dearest Peggy,—I have resolved on a step which I can scarce expect you to approve, perhaps not even to understand at present, though I have every hope that some day you will do both.
“My situation briefly is this: I have no hope whatever of another effectual attempt on the part of the Prince, and I have set my face against foreign service. Still, I was bred to the sword, and so must bide by it. As I have neither the means nor the inclination for an idle existence, and it has pleased the King to grant me my pardon without exacting any terms, I am resolved to offer him my sword and duty without reserve.
“Let no one persuade you into thinking that I am playing a part, or have been won over by new friends or promises. I have won myself over from empty plots and idle dreams to an honourable career, and I have put the past from me without a regret, save that my decision will cause you pain, my dear and only sister.
“Whether you write me in anger or write not at all, you cannot in any way lessen the affection in which I will always cherish you.
“Your loving brother,
“Archd. Nairn.”
“A most sensible determination,” I thought, “and does much credit both to his sense of honour and his judgment,” but I need hardly say I took care not to air my appreciations of his course before Lady Jane, and still less before Mistress Margaret, who was little short of distracted.
The poor girl had swooned on receiving the news, and for two days was utterly overwhelmed by what she held to be the disgrace of his desertion.
The Vicomte was singularly unfortunate in his attempt at consolation.
“Marguerite, mon amie,” he said one evening, before us all, “your brother should lose no claim to your esteem. Remember, the cause of the Prince Charles is lost beyond all redemption. Your brother is under the greatest of all obligations to his legal King; he owes him his life. If my humble opinion be of value, I conceive he has acted strictly within the laws which govern the conscience of a gentleman and a man of honour.”