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Updated: April 30, 2025
Monsieur Bonnefoy's lessons became the indirect means of starting me on a diplomatic career and the diplomatic career made poor Ernest Medhurst, to his own unutterable astonishment, the hero of a love story! The story being true, I must beg to be excused, if I abstain from mentioning names, places, and dates, when I enter on German ground.
THE day before I left London, to occupy the post of second secretary of legation at a small German Court, I took leave of my excellent French singing-master, Monsieur Bonnefoy, and of his young and pretty daughter named Jeanne. Our farewell interview was saddened by Monsieur Bonnefoy's family anxieties.
Having alluded to my lessons in singing, it may not be out of place to mention the circumstances under which I became Monsieur Bonnefoy's pupil, and to allude to the change in my life that followed in due course of time. Our family property excepting the sum of five thousand pounds left to me by my mother is landed property strictly entailed.
His elder brother, known in the household as Uncle David, had been secretly summoned to Paris by order of a republican society. At parting, I made Mademoiselle Jeanne a present, in the shape of a plain gold brooch. For some time past, I had taken my lessons at Monsieur Bonnefoy's house; his daughter and I often sang together under his direction.
Or were there two singing-masters in existence named Bonnefoy? My doubts were soon decided. The French woman-servant whom I remembered when I was Monsieur Bonnefoy's pupil, made her appearance, and conducted me to her young mistress's dressing-room. Dear good Jeanne, how glad she was to see me!
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