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Title: Lady Rosamond's Secret: A Romance of Fredericton

Author: Rebecca Agatha Armour

Release date: April 10, 2006 [eBook #18145]

Language: English

Credits: E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team


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LADY ROSAMOND'S SECRET:

A Romance of Fredericton.

by

RE. AGATHA ARMOUR.







St. John,
N. B. Telegraph Printing and Publishing Office.
1878.





INTRODUCTION.


The object of the following story has been to weave simple facts into
form dependent upon the usages of society during the administration of
Sir Howard Douglas, 1824-30. The style is simple and claims no
pretensions for complication of plot. Every means has been employed to
obtain the most reliable authority upon the facts thus embodied. The
writer is deeply indebted to several gentlemen of high social position
who kindly furnished many important facts and showed a lively interest
in the work, and takes the present opportunity of returning thanks for
such support. In producing this little work the public are aware that
too much cannot be expected from an amateur. Hoping that this may meet
the approval of many, the writer also thanks those who have so
generously responded to the subscription list.

Fredericton. August, 1878.




LADY ROSAMOND'S SECRET

A ROMANCE OF FREDERICTON.




CHAPTER I.

OLD GOVERNMENT HOUSE.

    Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
    Who never to himself hath said,
    This is my own, my native land!--_Scott._


A September sunset in Fredericton, A. D. 1824. Much has been said and
sung about the beauteous scenes of nature in every clime. Scott has
lovingly depicted his native heaths, mountains, lochs and glens. Moore
draws deep inspiration amid scenes of the Emerald Isle, and strikes his
lyre to chords of awakening love, light and song. Cowper, Southey and
Wordsworth raised their voices in tuneful and harmonious lays, echoing
love of native home. Our beloved American poet has wreathed in song the
love of nature's wooing in his immortal Hiawatha. Forests in their
primeval grandeur, lovely landscapes, sunrise, noonday and sunset--each
has attracted the keen poetic gaze. Though not the theme of poet or
pen--who that looks upon our autumn sunset can deny its charms? The
western horizon, a mass of living gold, flitting in incessant array and
mingling with the different layers of purple, violet, pink, crimson, and
tempting hues of indescribable beauty; at intervals forming regular and
successive strata of deep blue and red, deepening into bright red.
Suddenly as with magic wand a golden cloud shoots through and transforms
the whole with dazzling splendour. The bewildering reflection upon the
trees as they raise their heads in lofty appreciation, forms a pleasing
background, while Heaven's ethereal blue lies calmly floating above. The
gently sloping hills lend variety to the scene, stretching in
undulations of soft and rich verdure; luxuriant meadow and cultivated
fields lie in alternate range. The sons of toil are returning from
labour; the birds have sought shelter in their nests; the nimble
squirrel hides beneath the leafy boughs, or finds refuge in the
sheltering grass, until the next day's wants shall urge a repeated
attack upon the goodly spoils of harvest. Soon the golden sheen is
departing, casting backward glances upon the hill tops with studied
coyness, as lingering to caress the deepening charms of nature's
unlimited and priceless wardrobe.

Amid such glowing beauty could the mind hold revel on a glorious
September sunset in Fredericton, 1824. To any one possessed with the
least perception of the beautiful, is there not full scope in this
direction? Is not one fully rewarded by a daily stroll in the suburban
districts of Fredericton, more especially the one now faintly described?
If any one asks why the present site was chosen for Government House in
preference to the lower part of the city, there would be no presumption
in the inference--selected no doubt with due appreciation of its view
both from river and hills on western side. Truly its striking beauty
might give rise to the well established title of "Celestial City."
Though unadorned by lofty monuments of imposing stateliness, costly
public buildings, or princely residences, Fredericton lays claim to a
higher and more primitive order of architecture than that of Hellenic
ages. The Universal Architect lingered lovingly in studying the effect
of successive design. Trees of grace and beauty arose on every side in
exquisite drapery, while softly curved outlines added harmony to the
whole, teaching the wondrous and creative skill of the Divine. The
picturesque river flows gently on, calm, placid, and unruffled save by
an occasional splash of oars of the pleasure seekers, whose small white
boats dotted the silvery surface and were reflected in the calm depths
below.

On such an evening more than half a century ago when the present site of
Government House was occupied by the plain wooden structure known as
"Old Government House," a group of ladies was seated on the balcony
apparently occupied in watching the lingering rays descending behind the
hills. Suddenly the foremost one, a lovely and animated girl whose
beauty baffled description, espied a gentleman busily engaged in
admiring some choice specimens of flowers which were being carefully
cultivated by a skilful gardener. Bounding away with the elasticity of a
fawn, her graceful form was seen to advantage as she stood beside the
high-bred and distinguished botanist. The simple acts of pleasantry that
passed shewed their relationship as that of parent and child. Sir Howard
Douglas was proud of his beautiful and favorite daughter. He saw in her
the wondrous beauty of her mother blending with those graces and rare
qualities of the heart which won for Lady Douglas the deep admiration of
all classes. Beauty and amiability were not the entire gifts of Mary
Douglas. She was endowed with attainments of no ordinary stamp. Though
young, she displayed uncommon ability in many different branches of
education; shewing some skill as a composer and musician, also a talent
for composition and poetry. With simple earnestness she placed her hand
lovingly upon her father's shoulder, exclaiming "Papa, dear, I have come
to watch you arrange those lovely flowers." "Well, my dear, you are
welcome to remain. I am certainly complimented by such preference. You
must allow me to acknowledge it by this," saying which, the fond parent
plucked a white rosebud and fastened it in the snowy lace upon the bosom
of his child. "Papa, dearest, one act of love certainly deserves
another," exclaimed Mary, as she fondly pressed the lips of Sir Howard,
adding "remember that you are my chevalier for the remainder of the
evening. When you have finished, we will rejoin the company." Mary
Douglas seated herself in a rustic chair and chatted in gay and animated
tones while her father listened with a deep interest. The well tried
soldier, the gallant commander at Badajos, at Corunna, the hero of many
fierce conflicts, and the firm friend and favourite of the Duke of
Wellington, listened to the conversation of his daughter with as much
keenness as a question involving the strongest points of diplomacy.

"Papa, this garden will fully repay you for your labour. I do wish that
I could understand and enter into the study of plants and flowers as you
do." "Ah, my Mary," exclaimed Sir Howard in a deep reverential tone, as
his thoughts went back to the days of his boyhood, "I had a kind
benefactress, and I may say _mother_ in my aunt Helena. She created in
me an early love for flowers, and I have always cherished it. Often
during my campaign in the Peninsula, the sight of a lovely flower would
call up emotions that would for the time unman me for the raging
conflicts of battle. I always look upon flowers as the trophies of God's
grace. Mary, I trust you yet will be able to attend to the cultivation
of Heaven's choicest offerings, and remember, that by so doing, you only
contribute a small share in the beautifying of nature." Having enjoyed
this strain of converse for some length of time, Mary Douglas rose,
exclaiming, "Now, Papa, you are at my service." Sir Howard bowed, and
offered his arm to his fair daughter. Together they went out, being
greeted by the merry party still lingering on the verandah. "Explain,
Mary," said the foremost of the party, "this breach of confidence and
utter contempt of the necessities of your friends. We have been vainly
waiting your appearance to join us in a walk, and now it is nearly time
to dress for dinner." "Very prettily said, Lady Rosamond," replied Sir
Howard, "but as I wear my lady's favour, you will grant me a hearing on
her behalf." Pointing to the spray of mignonnette and forget-me-not
which Mary Douglas had placed on his coat, he continued, "I hope that
your company has employed the moments as profitably. We commenced with
vows of love and constancy, then followed topics of general
conversation, and ended on the study of flowers. With this explanation
perhaps some of this goodly company might favor us with a like result."
"I venture to say, your Excellency, that in the present instance, we
might too clearly prove the old saying as regards comparisons," returned
Lieut. Trevelyan, "and would therefore enjoin silence." "Ah, no, Mr.
Trevelyan," said Miss Douglas, "we will not allow our claim to be set
aside in this manner. We must muster courage in our own self-defence as
an offset to your acquiescence, or else papa will wear his laurels very
lightly."

"In the first instance," said she, "we were admiring the beautiful
sunset, the soft outline of the hills, and the beauty of the landscape.
Is that not worthy of describing, papa?" The eldest daughter of this
distinguished family made this appeal with a face beaming with the
enthusiasm of her deep appreciative nature. Anne Douglas possessed not
the great beauty of her sister Mary, yet was a lovely and loveable
woman, capable of inspiring deep regard. Sir Howard acknowledged by
saying, that if she continued, the comparison would turn the weight on
the other side. "Not yet, papa dear," said Miss Douglas, "you must hear
further. We were speaking freely of our warm reception from the citizens,
of the social resources of Fredericton, its commercial interests; and
before you joined us, were planning to ask your assistance, by giving
your views and opinion of Fredericton in its general aspect, as presented
on your arrival." "Mr. Trevelyan," ventured Sir Howard, "I am sorry to
acknowledge that the ladies have sufficient cause to charge you with
desertion of your colours; but the end may not justify the means." "Ah,
papa, your inference is indirect--you will not surely justify Mr.
Trevelyan." "In the present state of affairs," exclaimed Sir Howard, in
playful military tone, "the enemy is preparing for action. The only
chance of success is thus--retreat under cover of fire, or fall back on
the strength of defence." "Your Excellency has a stronghold in the
enemy's quarter," joined in Lady Rosamond, who had been seated at the
side of Captain Charles Douglas, their eldest son. "Before testing the
strength of our forces let there be a short truce, on condition that His
Excellency will give us the desired information this evening," said Mr.
Trevelyan, playfully endeavouring to conciliate Miss Douglas. At this
moment Lady Douglas formed an attractive feature to the group. Her
graceful form, dignity of gesture and gentle expression was a subject of
admiration. Her winning smile was greeted by recognitions of deep and
respectful courtesy on the part of the gentlemen.

"My Lady, fortune has at last condescended to favour me by your
appearance among us," said Mr. Trevelyan, rising and advancing towards
Her Ladyship, while a blush suffused his handsome face, hastily making
its way with deepening colour, showing the clear and open hearted spirit
of the young Lieutenant. "We now have hopes of a speedy restoration." Mr.
Trevelyan then related the foregoing sallies to the fair arbitress, who
listened with keen relish and enjoyment. "As I have arrived at this
unfavourable moment," said Her Ladyship, "I will try to end the matter
satisfactorily to all parties. His Excellency being one of the chief
actors, shall forfeit his liberty by devoting an hour in satisfying the
present demands of the company. Mr. Trevelyan also, will only extricate
himself from his present position by giving one of his many excellent
renditions from Shakespeare or any of the favorite authors. Do you not
all agree to this decision?" As Lady Douglas glanced towards her daughter
Mary, she read in those beautiful eyes a mischievous flash directed
towards Miss Douglas. "If I judge aright there is yet another to be
brought to hasty retribution," said the former. "Pardon me, but I think
your Ladyship is rather severe," said the youthful lieutenant with a
boyish flush of youth upon his brow. "I beg that the penalty imposed upon
Miss Douglas may be something which rests upon her direct choice."
"Treason within the camp," exclaimed Captain Douglas, in his military
tone. "Trevelyan, beware, you are being caught in a pitfall." Lady
Douglas smiled as she turned to Miss Douglas, saying "Mr. Trevelyan's
request shall be granted, you can choose your own task of imposition,
music, reading, or any other pastime." "The matter is settled, thanks to
her Ladyship," exclaimed Sir Howard, "and I beg leave to withdraw to
mature my views for the coming lengthy topic of this evening." The hour
being announced warned the ladies to prepare for dinner, the group
separated leaving the verandah to the romps of two favorite hounds, a
spaniel, and a pair of tame rabbits.

While preparations are thus going on in the different apartments of
Government House, a carriage arrives with its occupant, Mr. Howe,
private secretary to Sir Howard. The carriage, a handsome one, is driven
by a span of full-blooded Arabian horses; magnificent specimens of their
species; proudly sits their owner in his costly equipage. As a man of
wealth, high family, Mr. Howe occupied a prominent position in the
household of the Douglas family. His coming is awaited with eagerness.
Captain Douglas, his friend and companion, is at his side in a moment
addressing him with hearty familiarity, "Howe, you are late. Has business
been pressing? Takes some time to get reconciled to the hum drum of life
in New Brunswick! Well, old fellow, send around the horses and we will
yet have time for a cigar before dinner. Strange, I enjoy one better
before than after. You know I am an odd bird in every sense. Was odd last
evening at mess when we got the rubber." "Douglas, one thing is
confoundedly odd." "How did the natives of New Brunswick ever impose upon
the British Government to send a governor and a private secretary,"
interrupted Charles Douglas. "Ha, ha, ha," laughed the latter, with
repeated and renewed attacks. "Howe, you have been baulked in some design
to-day; perhaps the fair one smiled on another, or odder still, some
rival is ready to exchange a few kindly shots." "Oh, Douglas, for
Heaven's sake stop and save your breath for more interesting topics,"
exclaimed the latter. The secretary lit a cigar and sat down to glance
over the contents of a letter. Muttering some irreverent expressions upon
the writer. "Howe, you 'see through a glass darkly,'" yelled Captain
Douglas, "to-morrow you will see face to face Major McNair and the sports
of H.M. 52nd. It will be mightily odd if you do not give them a brush.
Count upon me, too, as I intend to show in earnest what stuff Prince is
made of." "One thing you show," said Mr. Howe, with a strange grin--"a
desire to turn parson or priest. I might make a few suppositions without
interruption. Perhaps you have been initiating yourself in the good
graces of a Rev. Clergyman, by a few such quotations. Perhaps the church
might take better in New Brunswick than the army. Douglas, with all your
perhapses, you are a cunning diplomatist." "You certainly do me credit,
Howe," said his friend; "I possess enough cunning to perceive that you
are not in your native element this September 22nd, 1824."

The private secretary of His Excellency, Sir Howard Douglas, was a man
of no ordinary stamp. He had ability and coolness; the last named
quality had gained him much favour from the veteran commander, and a
desire to retain his service. Tall, slight and athletic, Mr. Howe was
foremost in all feats of physical sports. Horse racing was his greatest
mania. Few could manage a horse as he, and fewer still could own one
faster than his favourite mare, Bess. Quickly he rose to his feet with
"Jove, Douglas, I feel angry with myself and everybody." "Then keep your
distance, I beseech you," returned Captain Douglas, in his usual jolly
manner. "Listen for a moment and hear my scrape," said Howe. "Down in
the mess this afternoon we got talking,"--"horse, of course," said the
Captain--"yes, horse," said the former, "and got mixed up into one of
the greatest skirmishes ever heard of. Captain Markham swore and raged
like a wild beast Captain Hawley bit his lips with anger, and when I
tried to conciliate matters, they turned on me like a set of vipers. In
fact, with two or three exceptions, they hung together and irated me in
good round English, forward and backward with little regard to Johnson
or any of the time-honoured lexicographers. It was a hot encounter. In
spite of anger, I cannot help laughing, to think how they abused each
other, and, in turn, united themselves into a general force, directing
the fire of their battery upon me. By St. George of England, it was too
much. Of Course this is only the beginning of a series of such
demonstrations." "All's well that ends well," returned Captain Douglas,
"a night's sleep will restore all to a former footing. Major McNair
would frown upon any breach thus made."




CHAPTER II.

AMID THE HOUSEHOLD


The spacious dining hall of Government House now assumed an aspect of
studied splendour. The tables groaned under the weight of tempting and
delicious dishes. The culinary intricacies of Sir Howard's table were
often under comment. Viands of all kinds stood on every side, while the
brilliant scintillations from chandeliers--massive silver and sparkling
glasses--were of wondrous radiance. Sir Howard, preceded by Mr. Howe and
Lady Douglas, led his beautiful daughter to a seat at his side. Captain
Charles Douglas was the escort of Miss Cheenick, the family governess,
and companion of Miss Douglas. The remaining part of the company took
their places in like order, thus completing the usual dinner party. None
but those who have passed much time in the company of Sir Howard
Douglas, and enjoyed his many gay and social dinners and parties, can
form any just conception of the true worth and genuine goodness of this
fine specimen of an English gentleman. The flashes of wit and graceful
repartees, mingled with sound judgment and truthful dignity,
characterized the nature of the gallant Sir Howard. He was ever on the
alert to minister to the wants of others. No one was neglected within
his knowledge or recollection. From his daughter beside him to every
guest around this festive board, none were allowed to go forth without
coming directly under his recognition. The stern realities of military
life through which he had passed, had in nowise interfered with those
social qualities which so endeared our hero to the hearts of all. In
Lady Douglas, Sir Howard found a faithful helpmate, a loving wife and
deeply affectionate and pious mother. Lady Douglas never wearied in
watching and caring for the welfare of her children. No mother could be
more amply rewarded in seeing her family grow up loved and honoured; her
sons true types of gentlemanly honour; her daughters having all those
graces which are desirable to beautify the female characters, and make
woman an ornament in her family and in society. "Mr. Howe," exclaimed
Sir Howard, glancing towards that personage, "you escaped a severe
ordeal by being tardy this afternoon. You have proved that every rule
has an exception, but I must be careful not to introduce any
comparisons;" thus saying, his Excellency directed his smile towards Mr.
Trevelyan. Seated beside Miss Douglas, the young Lieutenant once more
heightening the effect of his handsome dark eyes by the deepening colour
of his cheeks. "Come, come, Mr. Trevelyan, reveal what is hidden behind
His Excellency's smile." "Pardon me, Mr. Howe," said Lady Douglas, "I am
pledged to relieve Mr. Trevelyan of any further parley. A truce was
effected until the compromise is paid this evening in the drawing room."
"I thank your Ladyship," said the Lieutenant, bowing. "Then, Your
Excellency, that theory falls to the ground at present," said Mr. Howe,
"I am not classified as an exception." The secretary smiled as he
thought of the cause of his tardiness, and the sport his revelation
would make for the gentlemen, when the ladies had withdrawn. "My Lady
Rosamond is rather demure," said Sir Howard, smiling upon that young
lady with his truthful smile. "Really Your Excellency cannot forget that
I have been studiously trying to avoid any pitfalls." "Ah, you cunning
rogue, you are amusing yourself with the shortcomings of the party,"
returned Sir Howard, "this is unjust. We will demand some concessions
from those members who have been drawing largely upon the resources of
others." Turning to Lady Douglas, he added, "Your Ladyship will please
bear that fact in mind, or rather make a note of it. Lady Rosamond
Seymour and Mr. James Douglas will make amende honourable for past
delinquencies, not forgetting Mr. Howe. Will add that the last clause be
conditional." A general flow of conversation follows as the dinner
progressed. Harmony prevailed throughout while humour and wit were
salient points in many topics. The most remarkable feature, perhaps, was
the absence of anything that could not be received by the most
fastidious. All practical jokes or questionable remarks were
discountenanced by the family of Sir Howard Douglas.

One of the members laying claim to your attention is the Lady Rosamond
Seymour, a distant cousin to Lady Douglas, descended from that
distinguished family of Seymours so conspicuous in the Tudor Period.
Lady Rosamond was a character of rare distinction. Her Father, Sir
Thomas Seymour, an English Admiral, a man brave, honourable, respected
and admired. He had married Lady Maria Bereford, the daughter of an
English Baronet, who, dying at an early date, left two sons and one
daughter--the Lady Rosamond. Placed under the care of a maiden aunt, the
young lady had the benefit of learned instructions. Sir Thomas was
determined that his child should receive all possible pains in her
education. Though displaying no uncommon ability, Lady Rosamond was
studious and persevering, compensating for genius by never failing
application. She made considerable progress in classics, literature and
poetry. In mathematics she was deficient. "I will do my best," she would
often say to her tutor, "but you know I never was expected to be a
mathematician." Lady Rosamond was indeed beautiful. The perfect features
of her oval shaped face were lit by sparkling black eyes, full, large
and dreamy, sometimes bewildering one with their variety of expression.
While residing with her aunt, Lady Rosamond had formed an intimacy with
Mary Douglas, which increased as they grew older. Together they spent
many happy hours, and never wearied in their bright day dreams thus
woven together. Nothing could exceed the grief of those companions when
it was announced that the family of Sir Howard Douglas was soon to
depart for New Brunswick. Lady Rosamond was inconsolable, and after
urgent entreaties on the part of Lady Douglas, Sir Thomas Seymour
consented to allow his daughter to remain with them for two years, after
which she would for a time assume the duties and responsibilities of his
household. Hence, Lady Rosamond Seymour came to New Brunswick with the
family of Sir Howard Douglas, and thus we find her the friend of Mary
Douglas in Fredericton.

In after chapters will be found the reason for thus introducing Lady
Rosamond. To return to the preceding narrative. After the ladies
withdrew the gentlemen remained to discuss over their cigars and wine.
Mr. Howe began by repeating the affair among the messmates of the 52nd,
and the result of his friendly interference. The warmth of his passion
was aroused and he vehemently exclaimed, "Trevelyan, I both regard and
respect you as a gentleman and friend, and feel regret that you were so
unfortunate as to become attached to one of the most dissolute and
dissipated of His Majesty's Regiments." The secretary was about to
proceed when he was interrupted by Captain Douglas. "Strong terms, Howe.
Your case would in some instances demand redress but I repeatedly avow
not if considered in the light of reason." Mr. Howe saw in the strange
light of Sir Howard's eye that His Excellency would now give, in a few
words, his decision with unerring judgment. "Gentlemen," said he, rising
from his seat and casting successive glances at all, "Mr. Howe seems to
feel that the treatment received this afternoon should justify his
seeking redress from those military gentlemen. Would any here think it
necessary to create a breach between the Regiment and ourselves, from
the fact of their having, while under the influence of liquor, shewed an
incapacity to treat a guest with becoming respect, being utterly
indifferent to every feeling save that engendered by abuse of appetite?
Do I state it aright Mr. Howe?" "Your Excellency is right," said the
Secretary, "sometimes I see the foolishness of being hot-tempered, but
never more than on this occasion."

"We can afford to laugh at the matter now, Howe," said Captain Douglas,
"to-morrow you will heap coals on their heads with a vengeance." The
company enjoyed a hearty laugh, in which His Excellency joined. "You may
have cause to bless your stars that you were absent, Trevelyan," said
Mr. Douglas, "as you might have been pressed into service against Howe."

Guy Trevelyan was indeed a young man of marked ability and much promise.
His father, Colonel Trevelyan, was a brother officer with Sir Howard
during the Peninsula campaign. For signal service he was rewarded by
knighthood and the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. Having obtained for his
son, Guy, a commission in H. M. 52nd Regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel
Trevelyan hailed with delight the tidings of his friend's appointment to
the Governorship of New Brunswick. The Regiment was then stationed in
Fredericton and St. John--headquarters at the former--with Major McNair
in command, while the companies stationed at St. John were in charge of
Sir Thomas Tilden. In His Excellency, Guy Trevelyan had a warm-hearted
friend. The son of Colonel Trevelyan was dear to him. Many times Sir
Howard looked upon his handsome boyish face, pleased with tracing the
strong resemblance between father and son. The open, generous and manly
disposition of the young Lieutenant shone in every lineament of his
countenance. Guy Trevelyan was loved by every member of the Douglas
family. Lady Douglas showed him daily marks of favour, making him at
ease in the bosom of her household. Nor did our young officer abuse
these acts of true kindness and personal privilege. Unassuming, gentle
and affable Guy Trevelyan was more eagerly sought than seeking. Sir
Howard admired his favorite, his diffidence and bashful coyness. "He is
one to make a mark," said he. "Give me the disposition of Guy in
preference to those aping and patronizing airs assumed by the majority
of young gentlemen on entering the army." Once, on addressing
Lieutenant-Colonel Trevelyan, he wrote the following: "Have no fear for
Guy; he is a true scion of the old stock. His nature is truthful,
honourable and sincere, not being addicted to those vices which ruin our
bravest soldiers. He has endeared himself to our family, in fact, Lady
Douglas would lament his absence almost the same as one of her own
sons."

Having made this digression, thus introducing the principal members of
the company, we will now ask the reader to follow the ladies into the
drawing room. Government House drawing room was indeed an apartment of
costly elegance. Richly covered and gilded furniture was arranged in
stately profusion. Quaintly and gorgeously embroidered silken draperies
were festooned with graceful effect. Rare paintings adorned the frescoed
walls. Priceless cabinets, vases and statuary were grouped with artistic
hand. Turkey carpets of the most brilliant hues covered the floor, while
the flashing and almost dazzling light radiating from the massive
chandeliers, made the scene one of surpassing grandeur--something almost
incredible outside the lustre and surroundings of a kingly residence.
Such is a correct picture of old Government House over half a century
ago. Then it shone with true chivalric glory. Now with its structure and
surroundings a dream of the past.

In the midst of her group sat Lady Douglas occupied in some fancy
netting, while each lady had some especial task. "Miss Cheenick," said
Her Ladyship, "will you be so kind as to assist Miss Mary in the
selection of suitable shades of silk for this piece of embroidery. You
will accompany her to-morrow after luncheon, as she is anxious to
commence." "It is to be hoped that we will meet with success as, judging
from the appearance of the stores in this city, there is not much to
select from," said Mary Douglas, "but, Miss Cheenick, only think, it
will be our first attempt at shopping in Fredericton." "How much better
and more convenient if there were exclusive dry goods stores as in
England," said Lady Rosamond. "It is rather amusing to see all kinds of
groceries and provisions on one side, and silks, satins and laces on the
other. Pardon me, mamma, if I use the expression of Mr. Howe,
'everything from a needle to an anchor.'" "Well, my child, you will
agree that both are useful," said Her Ladyship, "but I am doubtful
whether the last named article is to be obtained here."

At the close of these remarks, the gentlemen were received. Sir Howard,
true to his obligation, had found a seat beside his daughter Mary.
"Papa," she exclaimed, "my knight is true,--'A good knight and true.'"

"At Lady Douglas' suggestion, I am duly bound to disclose some views
upon New Brunswick and its capital. In the first place, I must plead
ignorance, from want of sufficient time to note the general aspect,
features and surroundings. This is a primitive soil, populated and
toiled by a primitive people. Agriculture is yet in its infancy, and no
prospect at hand for the furtherance of this important calling. Well
wooded land, fertile valley and pleasing variety, show that this should
be the great and only resource of this country. What facilities are
afforded to the farmer for the importation of produce, were this noble
river to be opened up with steam navigation. In a year hence, if my life
be spared, I shall be able to afford you some information on life in the
back settlements, and the means resorted to by the settlers. At present
there are only five roads in the whole Province; three of which you have
seen, as they lead from this city in different directions; the one to
St. John; also, that passing our door to Quebec; and the third which I
shewed you last week as leading to Miramichi. The fourth leads to St.
Andrews, a small seaport in the south-west; while the fifth leads to
Halifax." "Pardon me, Your Excellency, I could not help observing that
the condition of these roads pay small tribute to McAdam, or Telford,
being a rapid and sudden succession of up hill and down dale." "One
would need a vigorous constitution," returned Sir Howard, "to make a
practical test. People do not have much traffic upon these roads, from
the fact that the settlements are more numerous along the river, which
holds out more advantages."

"Papa," exclaimed Sir Howard's favourite daughter, "How much I should
like to accompany you on an expedition through the forests of New
Brunswick." "Perhaps you may, when the roads are more accessible, when
there will be established comfortable inns where one can rest and be
refreshed. None will press me to give any further report of the country,
when I make a guarantee to do so at some time in the future, when there
will be, I trust, good progress made."

"Many thanks, Your Excellency," said Mr. Howe, in response to Sir
Howard, and, "in behalf of the company, may I express a hope that your
wish be realized in the future of New Brunswick's history. May this
province yet rise in commercial prosperity and national wealth, and may
New Brunswick's sons yet assume their proud position as Governors of the
province." "Mr. Howe is growing eloquent," remarked Lady Rosamond, to
Mr. Trevelyan.--"A conspiracy on foot," exclaimed Miss Douglas, glancing
towards Lady Rosamond. "Now Mr. Trevelyan will play his part," said
Captain Douglas, with mock solemnity.

The young Lieutenant selected a passage from "Cymbeline," receiving the
gratitude and applause of the ladies, to whose repeated entreaties he
also read an extract from "King Lear," commencing with the line "No, I
will be the pattern of all patience." Guy Trevelyan's voice was full,
soft and musical, having the power of soothing the listener; but when
required for dramatic readings, could command a versatility that was
surprising. Miss Douglas archly proposed to Lady Douglas her wish to
join in a game of whist. Thus engaged, the remainder of the evening
passed quickly away. Mary Douglas still retaining her gallant partner,
having secured the rubber against Mr. Howe and Miss Douglas, warmly
congratulated Sir Howard on their success. "Never despair, Miss
Douglas," said Mr. Howe, "we bide our time." The secretary's carriage
being announced, with smiles and bows he took leave, followed by Mr.
Trevelyan, who accepted the proffered invitation.




CHAPTER III.

AN EVENING IN OFFICERS' MESS-ROOM.


Many of our readers are familiar with the old building still standing,
facing on Queen Street, known as the officers' barracks. At the time
when this story opened, this was a scene of continual festivity--life in
its gayest aspect. Here were quartered the noisy, the swaggering, the
riotous, the vain, the gallant, the honourable, and all those different
qualities which help to form the make-up of the many individuals
comprising the officers of H. M. 52nd Regiment. At no period, before or
since, has Fredericton ever risen to such notoriety. Several
enterprising gentlemen of this body in connexion with a few of the
leading citizens planned and laid the first regular and circular race
course, near where the present now is situated, under the management of
J. H. Reid, Esq., and the members of York County Agricultural Society.

On the old race course it was no unusual occurrence to witness as many
as a dozen races during the space of two days. Sons of gentlemen, both
in military and private life, were the owners of thorough-bred horses,
each claiming the highest distinctions regarding full-blooded pedigree.
These were Fredericton's glorious days--days of sport; days of chivalry;
days of splendour and high life. On the evening in question, a festive
board was spread with all the eclat attending a dinner party. Some hours
previous a grand assemblage had gathered on the race course to witness a
race between Captain Douglas' mare Bess, and a celebrated racer
introduced on the course by Lieutenant-Colonel Tilden, ridden by his
groom. Much betting had arisen on both sides. Excitement ran high. Bets
were being doubled. The universal din and uproar was growing loud, noisy
and clamorous. The band played spirited music, commencing with national
airs, and, in compliment to an American officer, a guest of Sir Thomas
Tilden, finished off with Hail Columbia. Bess won the race. His
Excellency, Capt. Douglas, in the capacity of aide-de-camp, Mr. Howe and
Mr. James Douglas, with their friend, Lieutenant Trevelyan, stood on an
eminence bordered by woods. Here Sir Howard watched the afternoon's
sport with keen interest. He saw in the assembly many features to be
discountenanced. None admired a noble animal better than Sir Howard, and
none were more humane in their treatment. Captain Douglas entered more
into the sport of the proceedings. His whole mind for the present was
centered on the expectation of his noble little animal. In gaining the
race he was generous to the last degree. Honor was the password in all
his actions, while he gave his opponents that feeling which led them to
thank him for an honorable defeat.

The occasion of Lt. Col. Tilden's arrival was always hailed with a round
of festivities. This evening was the commencement, servants in livery
were at every footstep. An array of butlers and waiters was conspicuous
arranging the different tables. The grateful odors emitted from several
passages presaged the elaborate dishes to be served. The rattle of
dishes, clinking of glasses, and drawing of corks, hinted of the viands
in unlimited store. While the above were conducted in the mess-room,
many of the guests were as busy in their own private apartments making
the necessary toilet for the reception. In the foremost tier of rooms to
the left, facing the river, on the ground floor, is the one occupied by
Lieut. Guy Trevelyan. He is brushing out the waves of chestnut brown
hair which, though short, shows a tendency to assert its nature despite
the stern orders of military rule. A shade passes over the brow of the
youthful-looking soldier as he dons his scarlet uniform. His thoughts
are not at ease. Guy Trevelyan feels a vague and unaccountable
yearning--an undefined feeling which is impossible to shake off. "Well,
Trevelyan," soliloquized he; "you are a strange old fellow; such a state
as this must not be indulged amidst the stir and hurly-burly of
to-night. I believe bedlam has broken loose." No wonder that Trevelyan
thought so; for, at that moment, several noisy songs broke upon him--the
barking of at least a score of dogs, the clatter of steps upon the
pavement, and the practising of fifes and drums. Such a babel--a
distraction of noises and shouts of hilarious impatience were amusing in
the extreme. At the appointed hour, the usual ceremonies of introduction
being passed, the company were at last seated. And such a table! Such an
array that one would only get into difficulty by attempting to describe
it. Captain Douglas occupied a seat to the right of Lt. Col. Tilden and
received that attention which characterizes Sir Thomas. Mr. Howe, once
more on friendly footing, was assigned a seat beside the incorrigible
Captain Hawley, whose choice epithets produced such sensitive effects
upon the ears of the secretary sometime previous. Major McNair, a
brusque, genial, stout-hearted soldier, always ready to do the honors of
the Regiment under his charge, had on his right Captain Hawkins, an
American officer; on his left an American youth and nephew of the
officer. The convivial resources of these dinners were of a nature
sometimes loud, boisterous, and exhilarating. Though indulging in
countless practical jokes, various scenes of carousal, revels, mingling
with toast upon toast, cards and amusements, there was a general good
feeling throughout the whole proceedings. Misunderstandings sometimes led
to sharp words, but the intervention of a superior had a healing effect.
In nowise did Lieutenant Trevelyan receive so many taunts from his fellow
officers as for habits of moderation. They often dubbed him "Saint Guy,
the cold water man," which only served to amuse the young Lieutenant. The
attention of the American was often directed to Mr. Trevelyan, listening
with deep interest to the history of the young man and his distinguished
father. "Lieutenant Trevelyan is a gentleman in every sense of the
term," said the Major. "There is no need of that explanation, sir," said
the American; "it is written in bold outline upon his handsome boyish
face. His father will yet be proud of such a son." "The words of His
Excellency," returned the Major. In the flow of general conversation
that ensued many pretty speeches were made by the military and responded
by several citizens, gentlemen who were frequent guests at dinner. Sir
Thomas Tilden arose, complimenting Captain Douglas on his success,
hoping that they may meet soon on the same business. This called from
the gallant and handsome Captain one of his most witty and humorous
speeches, after which Captain Hawley sang Rule Britannia with the entire
company in a deafening chorus. After a short pause, cries of "Howe!
Howe!" Nothing short of an oration would satisfy. The secretary rose and
delivered something which would take some investigation to classify
either as an epic, oration, or burlesque. They wanted variety and such
it was. A puzzled expression rested on Lieutenant Trevelyan's face as he
tried to follow Mr. Howe in the lengthy harangue.

The band afterwards played "Hail Columbia," which was the signal for
Captain Hawkins to respond. The American thanked the Commander and
Officers of H. M. 52nd Regt. for the marked hospitality and courtesy
extended to him during his stay. Alluding to the feeling of
dissatisfaction existing between the sister nations, he hoped to see a
firmer footing established between them; and all former animosities
wiped out forever. These and other like sentiments called forth loud
applause, the band playing "The Star Spangled Banner." Speech followed
toast and song until the hours wore on unheeded. Lest it might be
considered an absurdity, we will not say how many toasts were
actually made--not in water, either, on this occasion. The strongest
proof of this fact was found in the dozens of empty bottles lying
scattered in profusion upon sideboards, tables and floors, the following
morning, as servants looked on in dismay. The task of removal is no
slight task. Before the company breaks up let us take another glance at
Lieutenant Trevelyan. In respect to his superiors the young gentleman
still remained as one of the company. Though twenty-one years had
lightly passed over our young friend and favourite, one would not judge
that he was more than eighteen. His smooth and beardless face had the
delicate bloom of a young and pretty girl. Dimples nestled in his cheeks
playing hide and seek to the various emotions of the owner. Guy
Trevelyan had not mastered his feelings during the "hurly burly," as
firmly as was his wont. Relapsing into an existence half reality, half
dreamlike, he was striving to divine the true state of his thoughts when
called upon by Sir Thomas Tilden. "Here is Lieutenant Trevelyan, the
Adonis of our Regiment, whom we cannot accuse of a breach of impropriety
to-night, except it be that of reserve." "Come now, Trevelyan, you are
in for a song," exclaimed a dozen voices, pressing around the young
Lieutenant, in noisy appeals. Contrary to their expectations, Trevelyan
did favor the company with a patriotic song, which drew forth stirring
applause and made him the hero of the evening. "Well done, my hearty,"
exclaimed Captain Hawley, slapping him on the shoulders, shouting
lustily, "Hurrah for Trevelyan, hip, hip, hurrah for Trevelyan." "Eh,
old chum," muttered Lieutenant Landon, in incoherent and rambling
speech, about "faint heart and fair lady." "As congratulations are at
present the rule, I cannot make an exception," said Mr. Howe. "Thanks my
boy for this, and may you soon have occasion for another." "And
another," roared the crowd, taking up the last words of the secretary.
"My warmest thanks, Mr. Trevelyan," said the Lieutenant Colonel, warmly
pressing his young friend's hand. This last act of courtesy was more
gratefully received by Mr. Trevelyan than the noisy demonstrations of
his brother officers. Soon afterwards, guest after guest departed in
various moods and in various ways; some making zig-zag and circuitous
routes, while others were more steady in the bent of their direction.
More definite description might be given of these parties than that
pictured here. More details might be given of scenes of dissipation,
when each member must "drink himself under the table," to achieve the
respect of his fellows; but the writer forbears not wishing to expose
the darker shades of the picture, allowing the reader full control of
his or her imagination, if willing to go further. Suffice it to say, no
brawls had marred the "jolly time." All went away in good humour, while
the American was so loud in praise, that he almost wished himself an
officer in H. M. 52nd Regiment. Having made his adieu, Captain Douglas
took leave for his bachelor's quarters, held in the house on the site at
present occupied by George Minchin, Esq., on King Street, whither his
friend Howe had preceded him. In this building, was kept the Governor's
Office, as well. Here Captain Douglas found himself, as the darkest hour
that precedes the dawn reminded of approaching day. "Howe," said
he, "sit down and have a chat for a few moments. What did you think
of the affair? Of cousin Jonathan and his nephew?" "One question at a
time, Douglas," said Mr. Howe, pulling out a cigar case and passing one
to his friend. "In answer to your first, I may say that under the
circumstances there was some credit for being merry. It happened at a
deuced bad time, but Sir Thomas took his defeat manfully, while those
animated volcanoes, Hawley and Markham were wonderfully passive--a fact
we must attribute to Major McNair. The general melee and pow-wow in
which I was so unceremoniously toasted, taught a lesson. Jove, the Major
is entitled to an order if he can, by any means, reclaim any of the
52nd. But the most amusing of the crowd is Trevelyan, who reminds me of
an Englishman in Paris. He is clear, too. The oftener I see him the more
I find to admire. He has a stock of drollery in reserve, too. Only think
of the song and how received; Jove, he can sing like a thrush or
nightingale."

"Sometimes he wears a puzzled look which I cannot define; but Trevelyan
one day will make his mark if not led astray by some of his comrades.
Still, in the same youth, there is considerable backbone, plenty of
determination if necessary." "Hold on, Howe, when are you coming to the
second question," exclaimed Douglas, in slightly impatient tones. "Bide
your time, old fellow. Getting sleepy too, by Saint George," said the
secretary, using his favourite Saint and Patron as necessary expletive.
"Oh! about Jonathan, or Sam, or cousin Jonathan. Cousin Jonathan is
certainly a jolly fellow. How they did stuff him with compliments.
Cousin Jonathan is a bigger man than when he arrived, and Markham, would
you not think he hailed from the 'ould country,' by the quantities of
that commodity supposed to come direct from Killarney, which he used
upon cousin Jonathan and Hail Columbia. Ha, ha, ha."

"Douglas, the younger Jonathan is a genuine specimen of Young America.
By Jove, to see him at good advantage he should have been seated beside
Guy Trevelyan--our Adonis. Is not the old chap mighty complimentary?
Think it was rather hard on the vanity of Landon and Grey. We must be
sure give the toast to Trevelyan, when they are present, to have another
skirmish." "Judging from your state of mind at the first, one would not
deem it advisable to enter the lists a second time," said Captain
Douglas. "Bear in mind the Major has too much on his hands already."
"Constant practice only serves to sharpen his wits," said Mr. Howe, with
a vein of sarcasm in his tones. "It grows late, or, I should say,
early," said Douglas, without taking notice of the last sentence. "Howe,
good morning, I shall retire." "Au revoir Douglas."

"Oh, sleep! Oh, gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse," murmured Captain
Douglas, as he sought repose from the wearing and fatiguing rounds of the
last evening and remaining part of the night. Soon the "gentle sleep" was
upon him, and, steeped in quiet forgetfulness, slept peacefully,
regardless of toast, speeches and cousin Jonathan.

His friend in the adjoining room still puffed away at a cigar, drank
another toast to cousin Jonathan, soliloquizing: "By Jove, I shall watch
him closely. He is a clever youth, but I shall make a study of him. If
he would make me his confidante I should readily assist him. Douglas has
not the penetration to perceive it, but I can. Can any young lady be
mixed up in the affair? If so, I may be at a loss to discover." In the
meantime, the secretary, now thinking it time to follow Douglas to
gentle sleep, commenced to prepare for retiring, further soliloquizing:
"That look puzzled me last night, I must make good my word." Here he
stopped short and was soon enjoying sound sleep, in order to feel
refreshed for the duties and social demands of another day. The coming
day intended to be almost a repetition of the past. Morning, public
parade; afternoon, on the race course; and evening in the mess-room. Sir
Thomas Tilden's arrival was always hailed with joy, being marked with
grand festive honours, balls, parties and suppers. To these seasons the
officers and many of the leading citizens looked forward with fond
expectation. Beautiful ladies met in their ball-room the gallantry and
chivalry of Fredericton. Nothing but gaiety on every hand. Such events
marked the order of society in the capital of New Brunswick over half a
century ago.




CHAPTER IV.

LADY ROSAMOND'S REVERIE.


In a small but exquisitely furnished apartment in Government House sat a
young and beautiful lady. The room commanded a north-west view, showing
a bright and silvery sheet of rippling water. This was the private
apartment of Lady Rosamond. It is the hour when she is occupied in
writing letters and attending to the many little matters demanding her
attention. An open letter lies upon her lap. Lady Rosamond is listlessly
leaning against a dressing-table, with one hand partially shading her
beautiful face. Quickly turning round to look at some object beyond
gives a full view, which reveals a tender sadness resting in the depths
of those powerful dark eyes. Lady Rosamond is in a deep study--one which
is not of an agreeable nature--one which she is not most likely to
reveal. Alternate shades of displeasure, rebellion and defiance, flit
across her brow, which remain, in quiet and apparently full possession,
until reluctantly driven forth by the final ascendancy of reason, at the
cost of many conflicting feelings of emotion and deep despondency.

Again Lady Rosamond reads the letter very slowly, as though to find, in
each word and sentence, some other meaning which might allay her present
distracting thoughts. Vainly did the reader search for relief. The
diction was plain, clear and definite. No chance to escape. No fond
smiles from Hope's cheering presence. Hope had fled, with agonizing
gaze, as Lady Rosamond once more read that letter. Every word was
stamped upon her heart in characters of bold and maddening outline.
Heaving a deep sigh she folded the letter, placed it within her desk,
and mechanically stood gazing upon the quiet river, peaceful and calm,
save the little ripple on the surface. Lady Rosamond contrasted the
scene with her troubled depths and superficial quiet exterior.

Quietly opening the window the cool sharp breeze of an October morning
was grateful to the feverish flush partially visible upon the cheeks of
Lady Rosamond. She was usually pale, save when an occasional blush
asserted its right. Standing here in such a state of mind Lady Rosamond
was indeed beautiful--a lovely picture with delicate expression and
coloring. While she is thus engaged let us intrude upon the privacy of
her feelings by taking forth the letter from its hiding place, and
examining its contents. It seems a sacrilegious act, but it is in our
great sympathy and interest on behalf of Lady Rosamond that we yield to
the temptation.

The writing is in a bold, masculine hand, clear, legible, and uniform.
If there be such a thing as judging the character of the writer by the
chirography in the present instance, there was decision, firmness,
bordering on self-will, and resistance to opposition. The letter ran
thus:--

     Chesley Manor, Surrey, Oct. 4th, 1824.

     My Dear Child:

     Having a few moments to spare this morning I devote them to your
     benefit, with a fond hope that you are as happy as the day is long.
     It does seem rather hard for me to be moping around this quiet
     house and my little girl away in New Brunswick, but it is useless
     to repine. In a few days I will take charge of a ship to go abroad
     for some months. Our fleet now demands my attention, which, I am
     happy to say, will drive away loneliness and repinings for the
     little runaway. Was much pleased to meet an old friend of Sir
     Howard Douglas--Colonel Fleetwood--who served in the same regiment
     while in Spain, and is ever loud in praise of his friend. Though an
     old soldier now, he has the true ring of military valor, which
     would gain the esteem of Sir Howard.

     Your aunt is enjoying a visit to Bereford Castle; writes in good
     health and spirits. Your cousin, Gerald, is again on a political
     campaign, being sanguine in the prospect of being re-seated in
     Parliament the next session. I am watching the event as one which
     concerns us deeply. Bereford is a young man of much promise. He
     will indeed fill well his position as owner of Bereford Castle, as
     well as peer of the realm. Lord Bereford is truly proud of his heir
     as the noblest of this ancient and loyal family. My dearest child,
     it is my fondest desire that in you may be doubly united the
     families of Seymour and Bereford. Gerald is the son-in-law of my
     choice, and it is my earnest desire that you may favor a fond
     parent's views in this matter. That your cousin regards you both
     fondly and tenderly I am truly convinced. He expressed his opinion
     very freely on making a visit last week, when I gave him my
     unbounded confidence and direct encouragement. On leaving he
     requested me to intimate this feeling towards you in a quiet
     manner, which I now do, with sufficient knowledge of your character
     to know that a parent's wishes will not be opposed. Gerald Bereford
     will be in a position to give you that ease and affluence your
     birth demands. As Lady Bereford, Lady Rosamond Seymour will neither
     compromise rank, wealth, nor dignity, and will be happy in the love
     of a fond, devoted husband, and the blessing of a doting father. It
     is my great love for you, my child, that urges this settlement. I
     am certain that you will have no hesitation in giving your answer.
     You are young, and have as yet formed no prior attachments, for
     which circumstance thank heaven, and allow me to congratulate you
     for being so fortunate as to secure the heart and hand of Gerald
     Bereford. Do not imagine that it is our wish to shorten your stay
     in New Brunswick. You are at liberty to enjoy the companionship of
     your friend Mary till the years have expired, after which I think
     that my daughter will be anxious to see her only parent, and to
     form high opinions of her cousin Gerald. My dear, I do not wish to
     hurry you, already knowing your answer. Wishing to be kindly
     remembered to Sir Howard and Lady Douglas, and the family, with my
     fondest love.

     Remain, Your Father.

Such was the tenor of the epistle which had caused these feelings within
the bosom of Lady Rosamond. Sir Thomas Seymour was a man not to be
thwarted in his designs. He loved his child with deep tenderness, and,
as he said in the letter, this was the reason of his solicitude. It had
always been the secret pride of the Admiral's life that Gerald Bereford
should wed Lady Rosamond, but he kept his favorite plans closely guarded
until means were offered to aid him. Many times Sir Thomas fancied that
Gerald Bereford admired his lovely cousin, and had a faint hope in the
realization of his wishes. When the climax was reached, by those avowals
on the part of the suitor, the great joy of the solicitous parent knew
no bounds. He seemed to view the matter as one which would give entire
happiness to all parties. Lady Rosamond was to be congratulated on the
brilliant prospects of her future. The Bereford family were to be
congratulated on their securing such an acquisition as Lady Rosamond,
while Gerald Bereford was to be congratulated on having won the heart of
such a pure and lovable being as his future bride. All those
congratulations were in prospect before the mental vision of the Admiral
as he lovingly dwelt upon the matter.

From the effect thus produced upon Lady Rosamond it was certain she
viewed the matter in a different light. True, she had never, by thought
or action, been betrayed to show the least possible regard or preference
towards any of the many gallants from whom she oftentimes received many
flattering attentions.

Towards her cousin Gerald she had always been considerate and friendly.
When on several occasions he had taken particular pains to gratify her
slightest wish, and pay more deferential regard than was necessary to
the demands of their relationship, Lady Rosamond affected utter
ignorance of the cause by treating him with a familiarity that gave him
no opportunity to urge his suit.

When Sir Thomas gave consent to his daughter's reception in the family
of Sir Howard Douglas, it was in the firm belief that on her return her
mind would be matured to enter more fully upon plans relative to her
settlement in life. At the death of Sir Thomas the lands and estate of
Chesley Manor would be inherited by Frederick Seymour, the eldest son; a
smaller estate, bordering upon that of Lord Bereford, affording a
moderate income, went to the second son Geoffrey, while an annuity of
four thousand pounds had been settled upon Lady Rosamond, with a
marriage jointure of fifty thousand pounds, to be placed in the hands of
the trustees. By the marriage of Gerald Bereford and Lady Rosamond, the
latter would secure an inheritance of which she was next direct heir,
being the niece of the present lord incumbent.

Lady Rosamond weighed all these arguments and tried to find by some
means a possibility of escape, but all lay in the dark and dim distance,
exacting heavy payment from her ladyship.

This was a heavy blow to a person of Lady Rosamond's sensitive nature.
The thought was revolting to her. For some time previous a dim
foreboding haunted her--a presentiment of gloom and of deep sorrow. On
receiving the letter its weight seemed to lie heavily upon her. Now the
contents again caused her much pain. To whom could she go for comfort?
To whom unburden her mind? Leaning her head upon the table Lady Rosamond
sought refuge in tears. She sobbed bitterly. "It is at this trying
moment I miss my dear mother," murmured the poor girl in faltering
accents of outspoken grief. "Heaven pity those who have no mother. With
her loving and tender heart my mother never would have allowed the
sanctity of my feelings to be thus invaded and trampled upon. And my
dear father, I love him, but can I fulfil his wishes? It is my duty! Oh,
heaven direct me!"

Poor Lady Rosamond! Her sorrow was indeed deep. In the midst of such
murmurs she arose, walked to the window, and once more fanned her cheeks
with the cooling breath of heaven, which afforded momentary relief.

As the large plate mirror opposite reflected the tear stains upon her
pale but lovely face, Lady Rosamond resolved to banish all traces of
sorrow. Returning from the adjoining dressing-room not a shade clouded
the features of the suffering girl. The silken ringlets of her raven
black hair were rearranged with bewildering profusion, while the
feverish blush added to her surpassing charms. A faint smile passed over
Lady Rosamond's features as she tried to appear gay and assumed those
girlish charms which made friends on every side, from Sir Howard to the
youngest member in the household. "Oh, dear, what shall I do?" escaped
the lips of the sufferer. "What will bring this matter to an end?" But
pride would not allow Lady Rosamond to reveal her feelings. She would be
a true Seymour. It were well that she possessed this spirit, being in
this instance an offset to injured delicacy.

Having remained in privacy longer than it was customary, she reluctantly
prepared to meet the family. Descending the upper stairway, she was met
by one of the children who had come to summon her to join them in a
walk.

Lady Rosamond was always a favorite with children and the family of Sir
Howard formed no exception. They loved to accompany her on long walks in
search of any thing the surrounding woods afforded. Scarce two months
had passed since their arrival and they were familiar with all the cosy
retreats, nooks and pretty spots to be found. Surrounded by her
followers, Lady Rosamond appeared as a naiad holding revel with her
sylvan subjects.

In her present mood the woods seemed to suggest calm. With her
companion, Mary Douglas, and the romping children, Lady Rosamond was
seemingly happy. A slight accident occurred which somewhat disturbed the
enjoyment of all, more especially those whom it most concerned.

In crossing a narrow brook by means of a small plank which, being
rotten, gave way, Lady Rosamond was thrown into the water with no regard
to ceremony. A loud scream from Helen Douglas, who was standing near,
brought the whole company, while terrified shrieks arose on all sides.
In an instant Master Johnnie Douglas appeared in sight followed by
Lieut. Trevelyan. The mischievous disposition of the former could not
prevent an outburst of laughter despite all his high notions of
gallantry. The young lieutenant came boldly forward, seized the hand of
Lady Rosamond, and led her to a seat at a short distance. The dripping
garments clinging to the form of the frightened girl moved the young
soldier with pity and showed the tender nature of his manly heart. The
heartless Johnnie was dispatched for dry wraps and more comfortable
clothing. Lieutenant Trevelyan could not force a smile. The same puzzled
expression which had baffled Mr. Howe forced itself upon him.

Mary Douglas had wrapped her companion's feet in the shawl taken off her
own shoulders, and sat anxiously awaiting their courier. The children
were more demonstrative in showing their grief. During the moments that
passed the minds of the elder members of the group were busily engaged.

Lady Rosamond, regardless of her situation, was busied in projecting
schemes the most fanciful. She was thinking of the contents of her
father's letter. In spite of the strong efforts of will her thoughts
would turn in another and far different direction, which, perhaps, on
this occasion it would be more discreet to conceal. The painful and
ill-disguised look was attributed to the accident. Well for Lady
Rosamond if it were so. Yes, an accident, a painful accident--forgive
the expression--an accident of the heart. Poor Lady Rosamond!

Ah, Mr. Trevelyan, we have an undue curiosity to follow the turn of
_your_ thoughts; but, as we once more note that puzzled look, think your
generous heart and honest nature deserve more _generous_ treatment. At
least, this time, we grant you further respite.

Johnnie's arrival prevents further moralizing. No room for gravity when
Johnnie Douglas is near. His mischievous spirit is infectious.




CHAPTER V.

CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES, ETC.


The months pass quickly away. October, with its brilliant trophies of
the wood, has departed, leaving behind many pleasing memories of its
presence. November, in its raw and surly mood, is allowed to take
farewell without any expression of regret. The last of this numerous
family--December--is greeted with a hearty reception from every member
of the Douglas family. The purity of the soft snow flakes, falling in
myriads, are invested with indescribable charms. The clear, cold, and
frosty atmosphere is exhilarating to the bright, fresh countenances of
the youthful party sliding on the ponds and brooks. The river affords
amusement for skaters. The jingle of the bells is music sweet and
gratifying as the horses prance along with a keen sense of the pleasure
they afford to the beautiful ladies encased in costly furs and wrapped
in inviting buffalo robes.

A happy season is in prospective. Christmas is approaching with its
time-honored customs and endearing associations. High and low, rich and
poor, have the same fond anticipations. In the lowly cot, surrounded by
miles of wilderness, little faces brighten as quickly at mention of
Christmas as those who are reared in the lap of luxury and expectant of
fond remembrance in showers of valuable presents in endless variety.

Preparations were being commenced at Government House on an extensive
scale. Lady Douglas was remarkable for the labors of love in her family
at this approaching season. Christmas was to her a time of unalloyed
happiness. "Peace and good will" reigned supreme. Every minute was spent
in promoting happiness by devotion, recreation or charity. The last was
one of her most pleasing enjoyments, for which Lady Douglas received
many blessings. From her childhood this noble lady had exercised her
leisure moments in relieving the wants of the poor, often leaving to
them food and clothing with her own hands.

At the suggestion of Miss Douglas, who was always ready for any
important duty, a party was proposed to visit the woods to procure
boughs for greening the grand hall and drawing-room. Foremost was
Johnnie Douglas, master of ceremonies, whose presence on the occasion
was indispensable; so said Johnnie, throwing a mischievous glance at
Lady Rosamond as a reminder of his services on a former expedition. The
rising color on his victim's face brought a reprimand from Mary Douglas.

"Don't be of such importance, Johnnie, there are plenty of gentlemen at
our command."

"Ha, ha, ha," roared the young gentleman in undisguised and unsuppressed
fits of laughter.

"Miss Mary, don't be of too much importance; there may not be so many
gentlemen at your command as you reckon on," said Johnnie, bent on
following up his argument; "Mr. Howe is engaged, Mr. Trevelyan goes on
parade this morning, Charles is away; now where are the reserves?
Answer--Fred, and your humble servant."

"Well, Johnnie, you are holding your ground manfully," exclaimed Sir
Howard, smiling as he passed through the group in the lower hall, where
they still sat discussing the grounds of Johnnie's superiority.

Decision turning in favor of the champion, the party set off--boys,
ladies, and children--forming a pretty sight. Lady Douglas stood on the
balcony waving approval and beaming with happy smiles.

The shouts of Master Johnnie, laughter of the ladies, and romping of the
children, kept the woods busy in the constant repetition of echoes on
every side.

"Oh, Lady Rosamond," cried the hero of the expedition, eager to maintain
his position, "here is the brook, but where is the water to receive some
one with another cooling reception, and where is Mr. Trevelyan with his
gallant service and kind sympathy?--Not hinting of the hasty retreat of
your valuable pioneer!"

Mary Douglas, detecting a shade passing over Lady Rosamond's brow, came
to the rescue with another mild reprimand upon the incorrigible Johnnie.
"I am afraid, sir, that you take the opportunity of reminding Lady
Rosamond of your former importance without due regard to her feelings,
which, you are aware, is not very gentlemanly."

"If your ladyship is offended," said the mischievous but generous and
manly Johnnie, turning to Lady Rosamond, "I beg your pardon in the most
humble manner, feeling deeply sorry."

"Lady Rosamond you really do not think I would consciously give you
annoyance," said master Johnnie, throwing down the bough which he had
lopped from a tree near, and drawing up his boyish form with true
dignity and an amusing earnestness in his tone.

"Of course not, Johnnie," returned her ladyship, "you and I are on the
best of terms. Nothing that you say or do gives me any annoyance; on the
contrary, it always amuses me."

This last speech of Lady Rosamond had surprised Mary Douglas. Apparently
engaged in selecting the most suitable branches of fir and spruce, she
was more intently occupied in the study of her own thoughts. She was
wondering why the mention of the brook adventure had caused that look
which, notwithstanding protests to the contrary, recalled something
disagreeable to Lady Rosamond.

Being interrupted in these thoughts by her brother Fred's arrival with a
request to go home, Mary Douglas joined the merry party, each bearing
some burden as part of the spoil, while Johnnie collected and piled a
large heap to be conveyed thither when necessary.

On arriving in the courtyard, Johnnie set up three lusty cheers which
brought out Lady Douglas, accompanied by Mr. Howe and Lieutenant
Trevelyan.

"Thought you were on parade this morning, Mr. Trevelyan," exclaimed the
pioneer Johnnie, "else you might have formed another of our party."

"The ladies might not have accepted your decision," returned Mr.
Trevelyan, hastily; "however, I thank you kindly for your
consideration."

After the ladies had returned from making the change of toilet necessary
upon the tour of the woods, luncheon was served. Mr. Howe and Mr.
Trevelyan remained. Johnnie was full of adventure, but made no allusion
to the brook. Lady Rosamond was calm, possessed, and entertaining.
Everybody seemed inspired with the occasion. Sir Howard was deeply
immersed in the furtherance of those measures and means to be resorted
to for the benefit and advancement of the Province. "I have promised,"
said he, "to be able to give clearer views upon the improvement of New
Brunswick a year hence, and, in order to do so, must not neglect one
moment. Another object which claims my notice very urgently is the
establishment of laws regulating a better system of education. The
grammar school is in a state of mediocrity, its support not being
secured on a proper basis. We want a college--an institution where our
young men can receive a thorough education and be fitted for entering
upon any profession."

In every measure advocated by Sir Howard he had the full concurrence of
Lady Douglas and her intelligent and highly educated sons and daughters.
Perhaps to this cause may be attributed the amazing success which marked
Sir Howard's career through life. He had the entire and heartfelt
sympathy of his household. He was loved with the truest and fondest
affection as a husband and father. He, in return, placed every confidence
in his lovely and amiable wife and daughters, knowing that through them
he received great happiness; and, unfettered with those domestic trials
which attend some families, he was able to discharge the duties of state
with full and determined energy.

The hours that elapsed between luncheon and dinner were spent in the
various styles of decoration suggested by Lady Douglas. The important
Johnnie was under the direct supervision of Miss Cheenick, cutting off
and preparing little twigs for garlands, with occasional sallies of good
natured badinage.

Miss Douglas was making illuminated mottoes and texts in a quiet corner
of the apartment. Mary Douglas and her companion were busily weaving
pretty and graceful festooning. To each member was allotted some
especial part.

Every one participated in the preparation by noting each successive step
towards completion. Thus the work progressed until it was time for the
ladies to dress for dinner; after which the evening was spent in the
same occupation, with the valuable assistance of Mr. Howe and Captain
Douglas.

After several days had elapsed, the work was considered complete. The
design was choice and beautiful. Nothing was necessary to produce a more
graceful and pleasing effect. Holly there was none, but our woods
supplied the loss with lovely evergreens of native growth.

It was the day preceding Christmas eve. Mirth and joy revelled around
the glowing firesides. Happy faces beamed with radiating smiles. Each
was trying to do some small act of kindness for the benefit of the
household. A Christmas tree, in all its mysterious surroundings, was
being laden with beautiful presents. Loving tokens of friendship were
placed on its strong branches by lovely and delicate hands. Lady Douglas
presided over these mysteries, in the secret chamber, with the vigilance
of the dragon who guarded the golden apples in the classic shades of the
Hesperides. All busy little feet were turned towards the door, but
further entrance was barred by gentle admonition from her ladyship.

Lady Rosamond had been allowed the privacy of her own apartments without
interruption. She was preparing some tokens of regard for different
members of the family. Many chaste and valuable articles had been
received from home for this purpose, but she wished to make some choice
trinkets as her own work. Many times she had stolen a half-hour to
devote to this labor of love. An elegant silk purse had been netted for
Lady Douglas. For Mary Douglas she is engaged on a prettily-designed
portfolio. None were forgotten, not even Sir Howard, who was the
recipient of a neat dressing-case. As Lady Rosamond's deft fingers
wrought upon each article her mind was busy upon a far different, and,
to her, important matter. She longed for sympathy and advice. Her father
gave himself little concern regarding her ambiguously-written message.
He saw that his daughter was somewhat cold and indifferent to her
cousin's preference, but he expected that, on her return, she would
readily agree to anything which met his approval. Not wishing to repeat
the sentiment of the letter thus described, Sir Thomas Seymour had
considered moderation as the surest hope of success. Having thus
expressed his opinion to Lady Bereford, the Admiral was assured and
confident. On this Christmas season he had selected a costly locket,
studded with diamonds, as a gift to Lady Rosamond, and dwelt, with
loving pride, upon the many gentle qualities of the lovely girl; her
happy prospects as Lady Bereford, adored by a fond husband, beloved by
all.

Happy Lady Rosamond! in thy busy thoughts. Dared we venture for thee an
encouraging word, it would be "Every cloud has a silver lining."

Christmas eve was a scene of stir and excitement. Though work was done
in a systematic manner, the unusual tasks of labor and love were
hurrying upon each other with increasing rapidity. The servant's hall
was not to be passed over at this joyous time. Everyone, both family and
servants, shared in the festivity. How the graceful form of Mary Douglas
flew from room to room, arranging some pleasing surprise, planning some
little act of courtesy or civility. The housekeeper's room, stealthily
invaded by bribing another domestic, becomes the hiding place of a
handsome lace cap. Each maid finds under her pillow a sovereign and some
little trinket, as a ribbon, scarf or work box.

These were happy moments in the life of Mary Douglas. In the performance
of such acts of goodness she was truly happy. This lovely girl was
possessed of the united virtues of Sir Howard and Lady Douglas. Free from
the remotest clouds of sorrow or care, Mary Douglas was indeed to be
envied. Her father's smile was of more value to his gifted daughters than
the most flattering attention from the many admirers who vainly tried to
receive the slightest sign of encouragement.

That Lady Rosamond often longed for the happy and contented hours of her
companion--for a like participation of uninterrupted and halcyon days,
should form no ground for surprise. "How I should like to tell Mary my
trouble and receive her sweet counsel," murmured the sad girl. "I should
feel the burden lighter to bear, but it would seem almost a sacrilege to
invade upon such quiet harmony, for, with her sweet sympathizing nature,
I know that Mary would grieve over my sorrow. Dear girl, your Christmas
shall not be clouded by me," soliloquized Lady Rosamond, "I love you too
deeply to wish you care like mine. Ah, no, Mary darling, may you never
know the depth of sorrow such as mine."

Lady Rosamond stood before her mirror to place a tiny rosebud in the
raven hair that encircled her stately head in luxuriant coils. Slight
and graceful in form, she saw indeed a pretty picture reflected there.
It seemed to mock her with pitying gaze. Her black silk dress revealed
the snowy whiteness of her beautifully rounded shoulders and arms, pure
as the marble mantel upon which she rested. The costly locket, with its
flashing diamonds, suspended by a heavy gold chain, rested upon her
bosom. She thought of her father's kindness as she placed his gift to
her lips, exclaiming, "Poor, dear papa, how I should like to see him
to-night; I love him so fondly. If he knew what I am suffering perhaps
he might relent. No doubt he is lonely to-night and wishing to see his
'only little girl,' as he lovingly calls me."

Presently Lady Rosamond was formally ushered into the apartment where
the company, comprising the family and a few intimate friends, were
assembled to divest the Christmas tree of its gay clothing and
appendages.

As a veritable Santa Claus presented each present, the all-important
Johnnie was ready to exclaim: "Thank old Sandy for that, can't you? What
a hale old chap is Sandy!" Turning to Lieutenant Trevelyan, the
incorrigible ventured to ask who might be Sandy's tailor?

When among the presents a tiny case, lined with white velvet, revealed a
jewelled cross of exquisite design, Sir Howard exclaimed gaily, "Lady
Rosamond, a coincidence--the cross followed by an anchor!" producing at
the same time a costly ornament in the form of an anchor. "Have no fear,
your cross is outweighed by the anchor Hope in the end. What a beautiful
encouraging omen!"




CHAPTER VI.

ST. JOHN'S EVE.


It was St. John's Eve; Government House was a scene of splendour; truly
every precinct was a blaze of dazzling light. Here was assembled the
distinguished, gay, beauty, and wit of the Province; the learned and
severe as well as the thoughtless. Hearts beat with throbbing and
exciting pulsation, fired by hope's fondest dreams. The spacious
drawing-room, already described in a preceding chapter, now assumed, if
possible, a more brilliant aspect--flooded with light, rendered more
effective by an additional chandelier, a gem of countless scintillations,
distracting in variety and prismatic design. The courtly reception,
high-born dignity and ease exhibited in every smile, gesture, word and
action of the distinguished occupants, might recall vivid conceptions of
the days when beauty and chivalry were conspicuous in homage to royalty
and grand pageantry.

Amidst the pressure and arrival of each guest no confusion was apparent.
Rank took precedence with studied regard. The many guests were attired
in a style and elegance becoming the occasion. Conspicuous was the
military rank of the large number of officers of His Majesty's
service--colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, ensigns, and all those
insignias of like distinction. Among these might be found hidden,
viscounts, lords, and baronets, and those aspiring to the proudest titles
and birth of family. To describe the most imposing and costly dresses
worn on this evening would be a difficult task. Ladies arrayed in the
most gorgeous and priceless brocade and satins ablaze with diamonds and
gems, snowy silks studded with pearls, velvet robes lined with costly
furs and covered with lace at a fabulous price and texture, coronets of
jewels, necklaces, bracelets, and beautiful trinkets, made the suggestion
to a beholder that Heaven had showered down her radiation of delight by
bestowing upon these jewels a reflection scarce less than that of her own
upon the scene above. Among the throng none were more eagerly sought than
Lady Rosamond; her quiet and easy dignity had won the regard and esteem
of all those with whom she mingled. Unassuming and retiring, Lady
Rosamond had excited no jealousy on the part of her less favored female
friends. On her they all united in bestowing kind and sisterly regard. To
gratify curiosity, and show our beautiful young friend as she appeared in
the drawing-room, leaning on the arm of Captain Douglas, I will try
describe her as nearly as possible:--A white satin robe with court train,
bordered with the purest lace, festooned with pearls, over a blue satin
petticoat, formed a lovely costume, with bodice of white satin, showing
the faultless waist of the wearer; white satin slippers, ornamented with
pearls, encased the tiny feet of Lady Rosamond. She was, indeed, worthy
the name she bore--a type of her lovely but unfortunate ancestress, who
won, for a time, the fickle heart of Henry Eighth, and gave birth to the
good and pious young Edward.

Many smiles of recognition were bestowed upon the Lady Rosamond, among
whom were those of the old cavaliers and statesmen, the middle-aged and
the young and gay gallants of the day. If the latter showed any
preference, as regards companionship, it was a strange preference for
the more advanced in life. Ladies in the declining stage of life were to
her the greatest source of comfort. To their varied experience of life
the young girl would give the entire earnest of her truthful nature. Nor
was this fact unnoticed. Lady Rosamond was the frequent partner of a
revered grandfather, either at the whist table or in the quadrille, much
to the secret annoyance of the young gentlemen present.

Mary Douglas was often at the side of her girl friend. It frequently
happened that they were vis-a-vis in a quadrille, when Lady Rosamond
indulged in exchanging playful sallies of mirthful character. In
appearance, manners and companionship those lovely girls might be
considered as sisters. On more than one occasion had such a mistake been
of concurrence, while Mary Douglas was recognized as Lady Rosamond.

Colonel L----, an intimate friend of Sir Howard, remarked to a lady
beside him, "This is truly an enjoyable affair. I am doubtful if many
years hence some will not look back and say that this was one of the
happiest moments of their life."

In the midst of this speech a gay and dashing young officer stepped
forward, accosting a superior in command in a brotherly and familiar
way, shewing behind a tie of relationship. Aside, in quiet tones, the
younger exclaimed, "Cousin Charles, will you introduce me to the lady in
crimson velvet and white satin, with tiara of diamonds?" "Certainly,
Montague, whenever you wish. Do you not think her beautiful?" "Yes," was
the reply, "but not in effect with Lady Rosamond or Miss Mary. Does not
that lovely costume set off her ladyship's charms. How faultless her
form! It is a hard matter to decide between the beauty of those
companions."

This last remark caused a blush to suffuse the brow of a handsome youth
standing within hearing. Suddenly turning away, and musing as he went,
Lieutenant Trevelyan was half angry at himself for some slight betrayal
of feeling which fortunately had not been detected.

As Lady Douglas was sitting in a corner, whither some of her guests had
retired to rest from the fatigue of the evening, a lady near ventured to
exclaim, "What a noble looking young man is Lieutenant Trevelyan! He has
such a frank and honest face; besides, he is so kind and considerate.
Having heard so many kind allusions towards him from so many sources, I
have a great interest in his welfare. It is said that his father won
distinction in the army."

"Yes," returned Lady Douglas, "I can remember his father when he really
appeared not much older and wore the same blushing countenance as our
dear friend Guy."

"Ah, there he is," exclaimed one of the eager admirers.

At this moment the subject of their remarks led forth Lady Rosamond as
his partner in the dance.

"What a charming couple," said one. "How striking the contrast of their
dress," said another, as the bright scarlet of Lieutenant Trevelyan's
uniform reflected on the pure white satin of Lady Rosamond's bodice,
while the blue satin added a pretty effect.

"How happy he looks as he smiles upon his partner," said one of the
group.

"Who could be unhappy in the presence of Lady Rosamond?" replied Lady
Douglas.

"Pardon, your ladyship, but there are many here who feel the hidden pain
caused by one look or smile from her ladyship's lovely face." The
speaker here lowered her voice, continuing: "I cannot explain or account
for the feeling which prompts me, but I really think that Lieutenant
Trevelyan is under the influence of those beautiful eyes, and really it
would be the fondest of my dreams realized, having in both seen much to
admire."

"Mrs. B----," said Lady Douglas, in playful tones of reproof. "You
really would be tempted to become a match-maker?"

"Yes," replied the other, "if by any means I could further the present
scheme."

"Lady Rosamond is indeed amiable and loveable, and worthy of a true and
noble husband, while Lieutenant Trevelyan is in every sense a gentleman
worthy the fairest and best. It would grieve me to see him rejected,
yet, Lady Rosamond is not in a position to favor any suitor until she
returns to England."

While the preceding remarks were being made by the group in the corner,
the totally unconscious pair were apparently enjoying the music and
dancing.

Lady Rosamond seemed in a sweet and uninterrupted dream of happiness, as
she floated along in the mazes of the waltz, supported by the strong and
graceful arms of her admirable partner, the young lieutenant. He
likewise had his dreams, but of a different nature. He could not calmly
enjoy the present in firm defiance of the future. A hopeless uncertainty
lay before, which forbade approach. Lady Rosamond's reserve was a
subject he dare not analyze. But the frankness which won him friends and
passport had come to his relief just at the moment when his partner was
most likely to chide with friendly courtesy. Both could look back to
this evening during the course of after years.

When various amusements had succeeded, interspersed with dancing, the
climax was yet to be reached. A grand surprise awaited. A tableaux was
in preparation.

When the drawing-room was partially darkened the curtain rose, showing a
simple background, with two children of the family sleeping quietly in
the foreground. Standing over them was Helen Douglas; her hair fell over
her shoulders. She wore a black dress, while a black lace veil, spangled
with gold stars, covered her from head to foot. With her arms extended
she is in the act of covering the sleeping children. A band of black,
with silver crescent, on her forehead, and stars on the band, added to
the beauty of the lovely Helen, and formed a true conception of the
subject.

"Ah, the rogues," exclaimed Sir Howard; "how quietly they stole upon
us."

Few failed to detect the word, showing a deep appreciation of the grace
of Helen Douglas.

The second scene represented a parlor with a young girl in the
foreground, having on her head an old-fashioned hood. This character is
assumed by Arabella Farnham, the daughter of an officer retired from the
service. Near the young lady stands a gentleman in the act of pulling
off the hood to see her face. On the opposite side is another young girl
in the person of Mary Douglas, in full evening dress, pointing to the
hood, and laughing at its old and peculiar shape.

Much applause greeted the actors upon the success of these parts, but
the crowning scene was the third and last--the united terms of the
preceding ones. The effect was grand beyond description. The scene was
supposed to be the great hall of Kenilworth, hung with silken tapestry,
lit with numerous torches. The odor of choicest perfumes fell upon the
senses, while soft strains of music floated in the distance. In the
centre of the background forming this magnificent apartment was a chair
of state, with canopy in imitation of a throne, and covered with rich
drapery, on which is seated one personating Queen Elizabeth, whose smile
is resting upon the courtly form of Walter Raleigh, upon whom she is in
the act of conferring knighthood. Grouped around the throne are
characters representing the Earls of Leicester, Essex, Oxford,
Huntingdon, and a train of lords and ladies, conspicuous among whom was
the Duchess of Rutland, the favorite maid of honor in Her Majesty's
household. The character of Elizabeth was sustained by Lady Rosamond,
arrayed in queenly robes and blazing with jewels.

"She looks every inch a queen," exclaimed one of the spectators.

"The young knight's heart is in a dangerous situation," said another.

"Beware, Sir Walter," said a third; "Essex and Leicester are dangerous
rivals, especially the latter."

Kneeling with courtly grace was Lieutenant Trevelyan in the role of Sir
Walter Raleigh. The young officer had performed his part with that
graceful ease which had so won the affection of the great sovereign.

A slight shudder passed through the form of Lady Rosamond as she
remembered his sad fate. Thinking the present no time for boding
ill-starred events, she hastily turned her mind from the subject.

As the Earl of Leicester, Captain Douglas was apparelled in white. "His
shoes were of white velvet, with white silk stockings, the upper part of
white velvet lined with silver; his doublet, of cloth of silver; the
close jerkin, of white velvet embroidered with silver and seed pearls;
his girdle was of white velvet with buckles of gold. The scabbard of his
sword was of white velvet and gold; his poniard and sword belt mounted
with gold. Over he wore a loose robe of white satin with broad collar
richly embroidered in gold. Around his neck was the golden collar of the
garter, and around his knee the azure garter."[1] Truly was the costume
executed, and raised admiration warm and long sustained.

[Footnote 1: Leicester's description taken from Sir Walter Scott.]

Mr. Stanley, the son of an influential citizen, personated Sussex, who
wore a purple velvet doublet, lined with golden cloth, and a richly
embroidered jerkin of the same color with broad golden collar, black
silk stockings and shoes of purple velvet. A richly ornamented girdle
and gold mounted sword completed the costume, being rich and elegant and
next in splendour to that of Leicester. The remaining nobles were
dressed in courtly apparel and becoming the scene. Mary Douglas was, it
is needless to add, in the capacity of the favorite Duchess of Rutland,
the friend and confidante of Her Majesty. The whole had a beautiful
effect and gave additional eclat to the evening's series of
entertainments.

When Lady Rosamond again joined the dance, she was playfully advised to
act well the policy of the character, by preserving towards the rival
earls a well balanced line of judgment, and concealing any strong
attachment toward the knight of the cloak, to Squire Lack-Cloak, as
Raleigh was termed by the attendants at court.

Throughout the whole evening there was one who entered with heart and
hand into the spirit of such gaiety--one foremost in the dance, foremost
at the whist table, and foremost in gay and animating conversation.
Notwithstanding those demands, there was another subject foremost in the
mind of His Excellency's private secretary. Mr. Howe was a man of the
world, gay, fascinating and striving to please. He had some faults, (and
who has not?) but he had his good qualities full as well. He had a
generous nature--a heart that wished well to his fellow man, and above
all, his friends.

Since his arrival in New Brunswick, Mr. Howe had formed a strong
attachment to his "boy friend," as he often designated the young
lieutenant. Sir Howard was pleased with the fact and showed every
encouragement by allowing Guy Trevelyan full privilege in his household.
There were on several occasions within our notice, a troubled and half
defined expression on the hitherto radiant and joyous countenance of Guy
Trevelyan. This fact had given much food for the mind of the secretary.
After a scrutinizing search and untiring effort the hidden secret
revealed itself in the bosom of Mr. Howe. He now possessed a _secret_
that gave a _secret_ pleasure by which the true nature of human sympathy
could assert itself. Thus musing, and overjoyed at his recent success,
Mr. Howe being reminded of the last dance, participated in the closing
festivity celebrating St. John's Eve.




CHAPTER VII.

THE DISCLOSURE.


Winter had far advanced; its reign of severity and pitiless defiance was
near its end. Already the genial days of joyous spring were heralded by
a vigorous effort of the shrubs and plants to show themselves in
resistance to the tyrannizing sway of the ice-crowned monarch. An
occasional note from the returning songster was welcomed as the
brightest harbinger of the truly delightful season. Merry voices mingled
in tones of deep gratitude as they once more sallied forth to enjoy the
pleasure of the woods.

None were more exultant than the inmates of Government House. From Sir
Howard to the child at the feet of Lady Douglas, all shared alike in the
pleasure of anticipation. Foremost in gleeful demonstration was the
pioneer Johnnie, who danced and sang in the enjoyment of his native
element--light and sunshine. Every hour that could be laid aside for
this purpose was equal to a fortune.

But our young friend was no miser in this respect. Every available guest
must be in readiness to join the incorrigible Johnnie when bent on his
excursions. All stood on equal rights. Youth and age were all in the
same order of classification. It was a remarkable trait of Johnnie's
character that denials were not considered as sufficient excuse for
delinquency on the part of any favored with invitations, and, in
consequence, all made a point of being in readiness.

A bright Saturday morning had been arranged for one of those
expeditions. April showers had already been the means of bringing forth
flowers (if not May flowers), only to be found by the penetrating eyes
of "Trapper Johnnie," as some of the more mischievous urchins had dared
to designate their leader.

When, on the auspicious moment, at the marshalling of the clan, two had
dared to break the rules, so strictly laid down, surprise was
momentarily visible on many faces.

Lady Rosamond, the next in importance to Johnnie, had pleaded inability
to attend, with a desire to retain her friend and companion. There was
something in the pleading and beautiful eyes of Lady Rosamond that drove
vexation at a respectful distance, and welcomed, in its stead, a feeling
akin to sympathy within the heart of the manly boy. True chivalric
dignity asserted itself in every form when necessity demanded. Her
ladyship instantly received permission to remain, with a generous grace
that made Johnnie a true hero in the estimation of his fair suppliant.

"Accept this favor, Sir Knight, as a token of the sincerity of your
lady," said Lady Rosamond, stepping forward with a knot of pale blue
silk in her hand.

With the brave gallantry of a Douglas, our hero knelt at the feet of her
ladyship, and, receiving the favor, in graceful recognition kissed the
fair hand that placed it there.

"Well done, my boy!" cried Sir Howard, who had been watching the
ceremony from an open window, whence he had heard all that passed, and
the circumstances which led to it; "you have already shown that spirit
which I hope will always characterize my children."

After the picnickers had departed Lady Rosamond and Mary Douglas
returned to the house, where they were met by Lady Douglas.

"My child, are you ill to-day?" said her ladyship; "you are unusually
pale, while your eyes have a wearied look."

"I do not feel quite well this morning," returned Lady Rosamond,
languidly.

"You need rest, my dear, after the fatigue of last evening; too much
gaiety does not bring a bloom to my Rosamond," said her ladyship,
kissing the pale cheek of the lovely girl, adding: "My dear, you must
retire to your room, while I prepare a gentle sedative."

Lady Rosamond did retire. She also received the cooling draught from the
fair hand of Lady Douglas, whose kindness shone in administering to the
wants of others.

Poor Lady Rosamond's rest could not be gained by the simple sedative.

Physical ailments are not the worst form of suffering that afflict
humanity. Lady Rosamond was enduring a mental conflict that was crushing
in its intensity. The more she tried to baffle its power the more
forcibly did it affect her. Vainly had she struggled within herself for
aid, but no response. Faint hope dawned in the form of appeal. She now
resolved to go to her dear companion with all her trials and tale of
suffering. At intervals this hope died away, but in the end gained the
mastery. It was this resolve that kept Lady Rosamond from joining in the
festive train that set off that morning. It was this resolve that
detained Mary Douglas as well. It was this resolve that bade Lady
Rosamond to seek the quiet of her chamber preparatory to the trying
disclosure.

Lady Douglas little divined the cause of those pale cheeks, as she
ascribed them to the recent fatigue of an evening.

With heavy heart Lady Rosamond prepared for the reception of her
confidante. A most beautiful picture is presented to the imagination in
those lovely girls sitting side by side the arm of Mary Douglas around
her companion.

"Mary, my love," began Lady Rosamond, "I have often longed for this
moment, but could not summon the courage which the occasion demands."

"Rosamond, you startle me by your earnestness," said the former with
deep surprise, dropping the title, as familiar companions, at the
suggestion of her ladyship.

"Have patience, my darling; you shall hear it only too soon."

Between sighs and sobs Lady Rosamond told the whole history of her
troubles--the letter and its stern proposal--not forgetting her father's
kindness and his great love for her; "but oh!" she continued, "he cannot
realize the depths of my misery."

"My poor darling," said Mary Douglas, with great tears dimming her
beautiful eyes, "why did you thus suffer in silence? Can it be possible
that you can have passed the long winter with such a weight upon your
heart, my darling Rosamond?"

"Ah, my Mary," replied her ladyship, "I hope that you may never know how
much the heart can bear, or how much woman, in her uncomplaining nature,
may suffer. If I could only learn 'to suffer and be strong'--in that
source lies my weakness. I am only one of the many thousands of my sex
who have had such struggles. I do not wish to shirk the duty imposed on
me, but if more strength were given me to bear it."

Mary Douglas sat in silence for some moments, as if waiting a sufficient
reply. She knew her friend's disposition too well to venture any advice
that would require a third person's knowledge of the matter. Gladly
would she have referred it to her father or mother, but the idea gave no
relief.

"Rosamond, my darling, if I could afford your mind instantaneous relief
I would gladly do so, if even at a very great sacrifice. Of one thing
rest assured--you have my service in any way that you wish to command
me; besides, you have my sympathy and interest for life. It may be that
I can slightly alleviate your sorrow. Can I not propose some plan in the
future to re-arrange those affairs which at present seemed so irrevocably
fixed? Kings have made laws to be broken when the cause demanded
retribution. Darling, be more hopeful--trust in Providence and do the
right--in the end you will be happy. Let me read your horoscope:--dark
clouds within the visible horizon, succeeded by bright stars in
ascension--hope and joy without fail."

A spirit of inspiration seemed to shine upon the face of Mary Douglas as
she read her companion's future.

A smile lit up the features of Lady Rosamond.

"Thank heaven, darling, for that smile," said the gifted daughter of Sir
Howard, throwing her arms around the sorrowing girl and kissing her
affectionately.

Lady Rosamond felt happier and more encouraged from the fact of having
such consolation and hope.

Mary Douglas had shed a ray of comfort in one unhappy heart. She knew
not the load which was thus removed.

Lady Rosamond clung to those kind words with a fond pertinacity: not
only the _words_, but the manner in which they were uttered.

Some evenings after the preceding interview had taken place, Sir Howard,
Lady Douglas and family were assembled in the drawing room. Miss Douglas
was seated at the piano, while Miss Mary Douglas sang the song so dear
to every Scottish heart--Highland Mary. Lady Douglas listened to the
melodies of her native land with heartfelt admiration. She loved to
cultivate such taste on the part of her daughters. None could give a
more perfect rendition of Scotch music and poetry than they.

When Miss Douglas sang "The Winter is Past," another of Burn's melodies,
Mary Douglas fancied she saw the beautifully chiselled lips of Lady
Rosamond tremulous with emotion. The first verse ran thus:

   "The Winter is past, and the Summer's come at last,
      And the little birds sing on every tree;
    Now everything is glad, while I am very sad,
      Since my true love is parted from me."

The finely cultivated voice of the singer entered fully into the spirit
of the song, giving both expression and effect as she sang the last
verse:

    "All you that are in love and cannot it remove,
       I pity the pains you endure:
     For experience makes me know that your hearts are full of woe,
       A woe that no mortal can cure."

"One would judge that my sister had some experience, if we take the face
as an index of the mind," said Captain Douglas, in playful badinage
directed towards his favorite sister, who in reality did have an
experience, but not of her own.

She felt the blow thus unconsciously dealt at Lady Rosamond. Luckily for
the latter, the coincidence thus passed over without any betrayal of
feelings. In Mary Douglas was a firm and watchful ally. In her were
reflected the feelings which passed unobserved in Lady Rosamond, or
attributed to absence from home, separation from familiar faces, or
clinging memories of the past. Another great source of protection lay in
the composition of the character of the gifted ally.

Mary Douglas was possessed of a temperament most keenly sensitive to the
finest perception of poetic feeling. Life to her was music and poetry. A
beautiful picture either called forth joy or sorrow; a pathetic song
thrilled her soul with well timed vibrations of feeling; a touching
story brought tears to those lovely eyes, that would move one with pity.
Thus was concealed the sympathy for Lady Rosamond, as none would
sacrilegiously question those motives save in playful reminder from
Captain Douglas, who bowed in fond adoration to the shrine of his
sister's loveliness and goodness.

The entrance of Mr. Howe changed the current of conversation. Politics
naturally took the lead. The House of Assembly being now three weeks in
session, having opened April 15th, many important discussions took
place. Much turmoil had to be suppressed by the sagacious judgment of
Sir Howard. His predecessors had loudly contended against the troubles
arising from the sources and expenditure of revenues. Happily, in the
present administration, this matter had in a great measure subsided. For
the general advancement of the Province, His Excellency left no means
untried. His waking moments were almost entirely devoted to the
interests of political welfare. His conversation within the family
circle very often showed his zeal and the subject which lay near his
heart. It was at this very time that he assembled all the legislators
and influential citizens of Fredericton, addressing them in terms of
burning eloquence, impressing on them the value of extending the
progress of agriculture, showing the nature of the soil of New
Brunswick; its perfect adaptation to the different kinds of products,
and the independence of a country that can largely subsist upon its own
resources. "The day will come, I hope," said Sir Howard, "when our
farmers will be nobles of our land, and their sons and daughters
ornaments to society, proud of the soil which raised them above the level
of their less active fellow creatures."

As the speech had given rise to much comment throughout the different
classes, it was freely discussed at Government House. This intelligent
family often formed into a party of politicians and assumed the measured
terms and knotty difficulties of political lore with an ease that was
both instructive and amusing.

"If papa would favor this august assembly by taking the floor of the
house, we might be more free to avow our feelings."

"I beg you will allow me to correct you, Miss Mary, as being rather
sentimental in the choice of your last word," said Mr. Howe, appealing
to Sir Howard with the question, "Your Excellency, have I not a right to
make the correction?"

"I acknowledge your suggestion, Mr. Speaker," said Mary Douglas in her
own defence, "and hope, before the session is over, to make a decided
improvement both in views and technicalities."

"What!" exclaimed Captain Douglas, coming towards Mr. Howe. "Are you and
Mary to take opposite measures already?"

"Not at all, sir," returned Mr. Howe, "I was merely setting her right
on--" "technicalities," said the young girl, with a merry ringing laugh.

"Ah, Mary!" cried Charles Douglas, playfully pulling back the clustering
ringlets from his sister's white forehead, "poetry and politics cannot
exist on very intimate terms of friendship, at least too much poetry."

"Have a care, young man," said Sir Howard, laughing at the last remark.

"Ah! there are exceptions to every rule, sir, which you did not give me
an opportunity to add, and I still make the former assertion to be, to a
certain extent, counterbalanced by the latter."

From the appearance of different speakers the house seems to be out of
order.

From playful remarks followed an interesting and varied stock of earnest
political conversation, in which Lady Douglas joined with apparent ease.
From agriculture the question led to education, one in which His
Excellency had spent much time and labor.

It is to Sir Howard that the present university owes its first
existence, its various stages of progress and final success. It was he
who procured the first charter granting the privileges of a university.
Few can realize the difficulties that Sir Howard met before
accomplishing this great boon, and fewer still could see the way for
raising the means necessary for the support of this institution. But an
endowment was raised by grants from the revenue arising from the sale of
unoccupied lands, and equal grants from the House of Assembly.

The next barrier presented by the colonists, for the suppression of the
Thirty-nine Articles and the admission of Dissenters, was in itself a
formidable array of difficulty, notwithstanding the next uprising of
Episcopalian remonstrance. A sea of troubles! But reason, the true
pilot, never deserted Sir Howard. The greatness of the cause was
sufficient motive.

As the story progresses we hope to give a few facts which will prove
what success awaited him. In the administration of this distinguished
military ruler, New Brunswick found a warm and true-hearted friend and
adviser--one whose memory is yet cherished within the hearts of those
who had once seen his benignant and happy smile. Such is a faint picture
of the domestic and political bearing of the gifted and distinguished
Sir Howard.




CHAPTER VIII.

BEREFORD CASTLE.


In a beautifully remote district, between the celebrated towns of
Hastings and Brighton, may be found the quaint old structure known as
Bereford Castle. From the style of architecture it may be dated to the
time of Edward the Third, bearing a striking resemblance to the castle
re-erected in that monarch's reign by the Earl of Warwick. The castle of
this period had degenerated or become more modernized. The closed
fortress was rapidly assuming a mixture of the castle and mansion.
Instead of the old Norman pile, with its two massive towers and arched
gateway, thick walls, _oilets_ and portcullis, Bereford Castle comprised
stately and magnificent halls, banqueting rooms, galleries, and
chambers. The keep was detached from the building, a stronghold in
itself, surrounded by smaller towers and the important and necessary
moat. During the civil wars it had stood many sieges, but, after
repeated attacks, in the course of time it fell into decay. Much labor
had been spent in repairing the part occupied as a residence until, at
the present time, it was in good condition. The fine old park contained
a valuable growth of trees--fir, spruce, pine, birch, elm, and the
stately oak--which grew in luxuriant profusion. The north side of the
castle commanded an extensive view of the surrounding hills, valley, and
the winding river, with its numerous small inlets and tributaries.

The owners of Bereford Castle prided themselves upon their extensive
gardens, for which purpose many obstructions had been removed. An
artificial labyrinth of choice trees was contrived with marvellous
effect, producing echoes of unceasing variety. In this enclosure,
comprising many acres, were the most beautiful designs of parterres,
borders, walks, galleries, cabinets, pavilions, porticoes, and many more
intricate inventions of landscape gardening. Fountains gushed forth with
untiring and fantastic wreaths of crystal foam; grottoes, cascades,
mounts and precipices, seemed to steal away thought and quietly bear one
to sleep to the music and dreams of fairyland.

The interior of the castle was in keeping with the grounds. The great
hall which, in olden time, formed the most important part of the whole,
was somewhat reduced in its dimensions. The windows of stained glass
were emblazoned with the armorial bearings of the family, while the
walls were adorned with life-size portraits of their ancestors. The
richly carved roof, with its massive timbers and pillars supporting it;
the old relics, in the shape of banners, helmets, swords, shields, and
other implements of warfare, were arranged on every side. On each wing
of the main building were spacious, modern rooms, occupied by the family
as private apartments, viz: the drawing-room, dining-room, and sleeping
apartments.

But perhaps the most attractive feature of the castle is the extensive
library--an octagonal room in a small tower, apparently built at a
recent date. The stained glass of its oriel window is very beautiful;
the handsomely gilded ceiling and pannelled walls have a fine and
striking effect; the floor is paved in marble, with inlaid mosaic; the
shelves of rosewood and oak are filled with the most costly productions
of literature, ancient and modern. This ancient family had cherished a
fond taste for letters and science. The present lord, uncle of Lady
Rosamond, still found leisure to devote many hours in his favorite
resort--the library. Gerald Bereford cultivated a taste likewise. He was
a young man of strong literary preferences, showing a desire for
learning, with a keen appreciation of the pleasures and pastimes of
daily life.

The drawing-room of Bereford Castle was indeed a superb display of
taste, grace, wealth and classic design. Though firmly believing that a
description will dispel the charm lingering around those beautiful
rooms, I cannot resist the inclination to give one.

Lofty ceilings, frescoed and gilded, blazing in gold, with the arms of
the family in bold relief; walls with wainscoting, arras and gorgeous
tapestry. Furniture polished, carved and decorated; chairs embroidered
in crimson and gold; Turkey carpets of fabulous price and texture;
statuary, the work of ages; pictures, the work of a lifetime. Mediæval
grandeur in every niche and corner. Add to this a view of the gardens
from the deep embayed windows, and you have a faint conception of the
drawing-room scene at Bereford Castle, the intended home for Lady
Rosamond Seymour.

Within this apartment are two occupants. Seated, or rather reclining,
near the lower window is Maude Bereford, a young girl, graceful and
intelligent, but possessing no claim to rare beauty. A second glance
increases your approbation. Goodness of heart is indelible upon that
face. The other occupant is a lady about sixty years of age. Time had
been generous in its demands by drawing small usury from his allotted
spoliations. Lady Bereford had been a beauty in her day, and, judging
from the skilful devices practised, wished yet to retain her passing
glories. Her fair complexion still showed a lingering bloom, the haughty
eye still preserved a kindling glance, while her countenance and mien
gave evidence of a stronger and more spirited cast of character than that
of the young girl here mentioned.

"Maude," said her ladyship, "what news from Lady Rosamond?"

"Here is the letter, mamma, which you can read," said the young girl, at
the same time placing a daintily folded letter in the lap of Lady
Bereford.

With elevated eyebrows her ladyship looked over the contents of the
letter. An occasional frown showed the displeasure which some sentences
gave to the reader.

"It does not seem to please you, mamma," ventured Maude.

"I cannot think that Lady Rosamond is very complimentary to her friends
in England. She makes no very kind allusions to her former companions
here. You certainly will admit that fact."

"Oh, mamma, I am inclined to believe that you have formed mistaken
opinions of dear Lady Rosamond. You see that she refers to scenes
wherein all took a part, and I am sure that she is still my friend now
as before she left us."

"Allow me, Maude," exclaimed Lady Bereford with impatient gesture, "you
have neither age nor experience on your side; but I feel convinced that
Rosamond has formed some attachment in New Brunswick, which she has
cleverly concealed. Throughout her whole letter there is a want of
earnestness that betrays her--an unsettled and vague uncertainty
dictates every sentence. Sir Thomas did a very foolish action when he
gave consent to his daughter's separation at a time when her nature is
most susceptible to the temptations and flatteries of society."

"Mamma, I do not like to hear you speak thus of dear Rosamond. I love
her dearly, and I could not bear the thought of her forming any
attachment outside our family."

"That is one reason why I have been thinking so deeply upon the matter.
That Gerald loves his pretty cousin, we know full well, and the
mortification of his being refused would be a heavy blow to our pride as
well. From a conversation with Sir Thomas a few weeks ago, he gave us
every assurance of an alliance of the families. Gerald is living on the
consummation of his hopes being realized, while I would fain remind him
of the line--'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.'"

"Mamma, dear, you always seem to prefer the dark side," returned Maude.
"Let us change the subject, as it is surely unjust to Rosamond."

"It is to be hoped that your fond dream may serve you aright," said her
ladyship, with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

At that moment Maude Bereford arose and playfully approached the door
wherein stood the future Lord Bereford, the heir of Bereford Castle.

Tall, handsome, and affable, Gerald Bereford bore a strong resemblance
to her ladyship, but lacking that severity which predominated in the
latter. Bold, regular features stamped the face of the young man. There
was firmness about the mouth that indicated a strong energy and
perseverance, at the sacrifice of much feeling. On the whole there was
much in favor of Gerald Bereford's preferences; his clear, grey eye
showed keen intellect, combined with mirth and humor; a deep manly
voice, with purity of tone, spoke of truth and conscientious
convictions. Such was the character and personal appearance of the
nephew and favorite of Sir Thomas Seymour.

Maude led her brother to a seat beside Lady Bereford, and seated herself
on a stool at his feet.

"Is this not a golden evening, Gerald?" questioned the young girl,
looking up in her brother's face.

"Yes," replied Gerald, "but to enjoy the golden beauty, as you term it,
I enforce strict and immediate attention to my wishes, and request your
ladyship, and this little girl, will accept the escort of your liege
lord."

"My liege lord will need those gallantries in reserve," returned the
sister, in arch and naive tones.

Lady Bereford waived the imperative demand by desiring to remain. Maude
accepted the proffered arm of Gerald to stroll beneath the inviting
branches of the dear old oaks, so firmly interwoven in the scenes of
innocent childhood and succeeding girlhood. The tender, sensitive girl
loved her brother too deeply to believe that any could supplant his
place in the love of Lady Rosamond. Her true criterion was the pure,
innocent, and trusting love of a sister.

"Gerald, my dear, I am glad this opportunity has been so timely chosen,"
said the fond sister in an earnest tone, placing her delicate little
hand upon her brother's shoulder.

"Pray, what has happened, Maude, that you look so sad?" said Gerald,
breaking out into a hearty laugh.

"Nothing has happened," answered Maude; "really, if I look sad I do most
wrongfully disavow my intention, having news for you--good news, too, I
assure you," said Maude, again looking at her brother wistfully. "Can
you not guess?" said she.

"How should I?" returned Gerald; "that would be a fruitless task."

"Since you have exercised such patience I will tell you," said Maude: "I
have just received a letter from Rosamond."

A blush quickly overspread Gerald's face as he bowed acknowledgment.

Maude did not produce the letter which had been the cause of such
annoyance to Lady Bereford, but she disclosed part of the contents and
part she kept for herself. Together they talked long and earnestly.
Though she took no liberty in showing the relationship in which she
considered Lady Rosamond, her simple and earnest nature seemed to give
assurance to Gerald. He listened to his sister's repeated praise of her
companion--of their girlish attachment--and heartily hoped that Lady
Rosamond would return the deep love which he had unreservedly placed at
her disposal--his heart, name, riches--all were given the absent and
beautiful maiden.

Musing awhile, Gerald was aroused by his sister, who almost petulantly
exclaimed:

"Oh, Gerald, I do wish that Rosamond was home again, never to leave us.
Two years separation seems a long time in the future. I grow so
impatient. Do you know, Gerald," added Maude, with a bright eagerness,
"I am going to write and urge her to shorten this lengthy probation. I
cannot endure the thought. _Two years!_" repeated she, a second time,
with strong emphasis.

"But you must remember the fable of the boys and the frogs," said
Gerald, with an amused smile.

This remark reminded Maude of the sentiments of her mother, but she
would not repeat them in the presence of her brother. She did not wish
to cherish or countenance anything that would be disloyal to Lady
Rosamond. In her sincerity she would not believe any views relating to
her friend unless they received her direct sanction.

Gerald Bereford had misgivings regarding his hopes, but trusted that
time and the favor of Sir Thomas would eventually disclose a brighter
prospect. No jealousy had crossed his mind. Had Lady Bereford expressed
her opinion in his presence he might have formed a far different view of
the matter. At present all was tranquil. Maude's earnestness momentarily
affected him--nothing more.

Lord Bereford, the present incumbent, was a man of sterling integrity--a
firm friend of his brother-in-law, Sir Thomas Seymour. Though a man of
high birth, distinguished, and sought by the great and learned, he was
gentle, unassuming, and benign.

From her father Maude Bereford inherited the quiet and unobtrusive
demeanor, so strongly in contrast to the haughty and obsequious bearing
of Lady Bereford. Gerald was a strange compound of both--a fact that
gave birth to the honest convictions of his nature.

Lord Bereford was an ardent admirer of Lady Rosamond--"a true
Bereford,"--the counterpart of her mother, Maria Bereford, whose beauty
had been the theme of unusual admiration. For hours could he gaze upon
his sister's child and recall the past, when a beautiful girl wandered
through the old familiar spots and looked to him for brotherly sympathy
when any annoyance rose before her. When the young girl grew to
womanhood and gave her affection to his boyhood friend, Sir Thomas
Seymour, he bestowed his blessing. Was he to repeat that blessing upon
the child? Many times did Lord Bereford dwell upon this subject. His was
a nature endowed with lasting qualities, true sympathy was the key note
to his heart. He loved Lady Rosamond with devout, tender solicitude as
his only daughter, and her happiness was his. If the love that Gerald
Bereford bore towards his niece was not entirely reciprocated, and at
the great sacrifice, would the true-hearted nobleman have urged upon Sir
Thomas the error of his conduct? Such liberalism upon his part provoked
the resentment of Lady Bereford, who could not brook any interference
with the strictly defined principles of conservatism so long entailed
upon every branch of her family. Sir Thomas Seymour was a staunch
worshipper of his sister-in-law's doctrine. He cherished every idea with
fondness, occasionally bringing them forth to view as opportunity
favored. While Lady Rosamond is sadly watching the days and months drag
slowly along within the bosom of Sir Howard Douglas' happy household,
such are the motives actuating each of those who endeavor to seek her
welfare; such is the state of their respective feelings, such their fond
hope--their brightest dreams--laboring under the fatal delusion of
giving happiness to her future.

Ah, your ladyship! were a kind fairy, in the form of a godmother, to
breathe a few words into the ear of your loving and tender uncle, Lord
Bereford, his kind heart would go forth to meet thee and save thee from
a world of misery--from the fiery ordeal through which thou must pass!




CHAPTER IX.

MEMORABLE SCENES OF AUTUMN, 1825.


The summer and autumn of this year were indeed the most memorable in the
annals of New Brunswick's history. Many there are still living who
distinctly remember that awful visitation. The season of drought was
unparalleled. Farmers looked aghast and trembled as they viewed the
scanty, withered products of the land. All joined in the common
uneasiness, daily awaiting relief. None felt more anxiety than Sir
Howard Douglas, whose sole interests were those of his people.

Wishing to know the true state of the country, his Excellency made a
tour of the farming districts, penetrating back settlements where the
greatest suffering might be expected.

While absent on this errand of mercy, a sad misfortune befell the inmates
of Government House. On the 19th of September their home was wrapped in
devouring elements of flame, being almost entirely consumed.

It is on such occasions that the nobler side of our nature asserts its
true dignity and shows qualities that otherwise would remain in
obscurity. Lady Douglas, with calm and dignified composure, prepared her
family to realize the situation, and with heroic firmness persisted in
rescuing nearly all the valuables within Government House. The great
assistance rendered by the citizens in their indefatigable labors,
showed the unbounded and grateful respect borne towards this
distinguished family. Every one was ready to offer aid. The daughters of
Lady Douglas reflected her ladyship's cool intrepidity.

With tears in her eyes, Mary Douglas viewed the smoking mass where she
had passed so many happy hours. Captain Charles Douglas, knowing well
the tenor of his sister's poetic nature, kindly and encouragingly
exclaimed, "Never mind, Mary dear; thank heaven no lives are lost. We
will soon be united." Those simple words had the desired effect. The
tender hearted maiden at once saw the ingratitude of her murmurs, and
felt deeply thankful for her brother's gentle reproof.

Lady Rosamond, if possible, had stronger claims upon the heart of Mary
Douglas and the entire household. She had wrought with a determination
to do what she could--aye, more than she could. On being advised by
Charles Douglas to desist, she firmly replied, "Not until everything is
done that I can do."

A young officer, who happened to hear these words, received them as a
valuable souvenir years afterwards, realizing their true worth.

It was, indeed, a most remarkable circumstance that so much valuable
furniture and perishable articles were saved. One act of recklessness to
be regretted was the cutting down of a valuable chandelier which,
falling with a heavy crash, was shivered in a thousand pieces.

In a few days Lady Douglas and family sought shelter among their
friends, from whom they received the strongest proofs of kindness. To a
lady friend in England her ladyship writes: "The sympathy and real
kindness received from the citizens of Fredericton I can never forget.
The fire proved that the old adage, though homely, is a true one--'a
friend in need is a friend indeed.'"

When Sir Howard returned, and was once more received in his family, he
felt grateful to Providence for His kind deliverance. No vain or useless
repinings marked the course of his conduct. With renewed energy this man
of indomitable courage was again immersed in the public weal as well as
the re-establishing of his family in comfortable quarters. A large and
commodious building on King street, the property of Henry Smith,
Esq.,[2] was now being prepared for the reception of His Excellency. The
Government expended a considerable sum in making the necessary
improvements, and within a very short time the citizens of Fredericton
had the pleasure of seeing their beloved ruler and his family once more
situated in a happy home. But Sir Howard was to face more terrific and
threatening dangers. His unbounded sympathies had further and unlimited
room for exercise.

[Footnote 2: The house at present occupied by Chief Justice Allen.]

October came, attended by the long continued drought. Gloom was depicted
on every side. Many conjectures were afloat regarding the vicinity of
the fire, which gave evidence of its existence in the density of smoke
that filled the atmosphere.

In the midst of this impending danger, on the 7th October, a fire broke
out in the woods surrounding "The Hermitage," the residence of the Hon.
Thomas Baillie, on the Government House road. Here the forethought of
Sir Howard was exhibited with unequalled prudence, having every
available engine and means of succor close at hand. By great exertions
the house was saved. Danger still lurked in the woods. Within an hour an
alarm was given in the city. Sir Howard was the first on the spot,
having ridden furiously his spirited and favorite steed. Engines were
again in quick action, while the military were only a short distance
behind, being ordered up at the double.

The scene was terrific. High winds blew the fire from one building to
the next, until the third part of the city was a mountain of
flame--cracking, roaring, tremendous in its fury. Water was kept up in
constant streams, having but little effect. Many sat down and cried in
their frantic emotion. Hundreds of families without home, food, or
clothing.

In the midst of this sickening sight was one whose very presence lifted
a weight from the hearts of the sad and homeless. Sir Howard never once
deserted his post--working, encouraging, and aiding. By his advice the
fire was stayed--two-thirds of the town still remaining. The stifling
air and glowing heavens made the hearts of many grow sick and faint.

Perhaps it would be wiser to end the tale of misery here, but as the
chapter would seem incomplete, it may be necessary to make slight
allusion to a wilder and more terrible fire.

The consummation of terror, madness, and dismay, depicted in its most
awful form, would fail to do justice to this sickening calamity--the
Miramichi fire.

The forests, for hundreds of miles in every direction, were one solid
mass of living fire, roaring louder than thunder; in its fury shaking
the bowels of the earth and leaping up to the heavens which seemed,
also, to be enveloped in flames. Nothing more awful will be witnessed
until the judgment day. Many were of opinion that the time was at hand
when "the heavens and earth shall melt away." Hundreds lost their lives,
while property was destroyed to an immense amount.

An ordinary mind would have sunk under the weight of grievances that
pressed on all sides; but Sir Howard Douglas rose above the situation.
With Spartan firmness and unswerving courage he set about raising means
for the distressed by subscription, both at home and abroad, in money,
food, and clothing. Letters were sent to all parts of America, England,
and Ireland. Not thus content, Sir Howard went himself to visit burnt
districts where man or beast could scarcely penetrate, climbing over
miles of fallen brushwood. Those poor creatures tried to show their
gratitude by words, but were unable. Their tears were a more gracious
tribute than jewels--being the grateful offering of a stricken
community. Their benefactor had conveyed provision for their sustenance,
and clothing for their wives and families. Many were the fervent prayers
offered for their noble-hearted and humane ruler, and none more
gratefully acknowledged these than he.

Much more might be told in connection with those sad events, but as the
details might not be acceptable to the reader, therefore we refrain.

Once more gathered in their home, the family of Sir Howard were not
inactive. The spirit of charity was manifest in every action of those
lovely girls. Mary Douglas and Lady Rosamond had formed a sewing circle,
to which they invited some of their young acquaintances. In this
charitable employment they spent many hours. Clothing was made and
distributed with increasing demand. The severity of winter caused many
poor people to look for assistance in every possible form. Gaiety was
for a time forgotten. Festive parties and sumptuous array were set aside
for the necessities of the season.

It is a well established fact that the miseries of others often
alleviate our own. To none could this application be more forcible than
Lady Rosamond. In her bitterness of heart she experienced a quiet relief
in assisting her companions to provide clothing for the sufferers. The
scenes through which she had passed counterbalanced the feelings she had
hitherto experienced and taught her gentle resignation. Her thoughts
were of a more serious nature--a source whence she derived much comfort.
Her parent's views were unaltered; her hopes were no brighter in the
distant future, but, as afterwards expressed, she had more strength
given her from the bitter trials of suffering humanity.

As Christmas drew nigh the inmates of Government House could not resist
a desire to look back to the joyous season which they had passed in the
home now laid low, its surrounding woods, their pleasant excursions, and
the extensive preparations in decorating for the festive scenes that
followed.

Pioneer Johnnie was loud in regrets for the apparent neglect which the
sylvan deities must naturally feel by his temporary absence from their
select and stately assemblages.

"Keep up your spirits, Master Johnnie," once remarked Lady Rosamond,
"the next time we go back the trees will recognize the compliment with
music and grateful homage."

"As none but you and Lady Rosamond regret being turned out, I presume,"
exclaimed Charles Douglas, who was always ready to join any conversation
that afforded amusement. He continued passing careless jokes until the
clock in the hall reminded him of his business.

"Really, Lady Rosamond, I credit you with driving away dull care and my
forfeiting all claims to the future good will of my friend Howe by
disregarding his message. Pardon me, ladies, for having almost forgotten
to say that the sleigh will be in readiness in half an hour."

"Half an hour," exclaimed Mary Douglas, somewhat hastily, "really,
Charles, I cannot pardon you for such neglect, as it sadly interferes
with my plans."

"Come, little one, frowns do not become thy brow," returned Captain
Douglas, kissing the forehead of his sister.

"That is much prettier," said he, pointing to the smiling face which in
turn rested upon him.

Taking up a book which lay open beside the seat hitherto occupied by
Lady Rosamond, Captain Douglas commenced to read some lines from
Tennyson, when accosted by his companion, Mr. Howe:

"You seem to be taking things very cool, old fellow. Where are the
ladies?"

"They are getting ready; come in while we are waiting."

"This is your fault again, Douglas. It is past the hour, and a large
party awaits us," said Mr. Howe impatiently.

"Better late than never," vociferated Captain Douglas, as he went out
singing, quickly returning with Mary Douglas and Lady Rosamond.

"It is all Charles' fault," said the former, by way of explanation.

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Captain Douglas, "I knew this was coming, but I
must be as jolly as I can."

"Your ladyship is under my protection," said the incorrigible
delinquent, offering his arm to Lady Rosamond, while Mary Douglas was
assigned to the companionship of the private secretary.

"This is indeed a merry party," said Lady Rosamond to her gallant, as he
placed her beside him and wrapped the daintily lined robes around her.

"I am half inclined to be angry with Trevelyan," said Mr. Howe, turning
around in his seat and facing Captain Douglas.

"What are your grounds?" questioned the latter.

"Enough to justify my declaration," said the former, apparently looking
at Captain Douglas, but in reality casting sidelong glances at Lady
Rosamond.

What did he seek there? Did jealousy cause that stolen glance? What was
the motive? These important questions certainly deserve some attention,
which, in justice to Mr. Howe and the parties concerned, and last, but
not least, the reader, this concession must be granted.

As admitted, the private secretary of Sir Howard Douglas entertained a
warm friendship towards Lieutenant Trevelyan, treating him with the
tenderness of a younger brother. Being constantly thrown in the society
of each other, there was much to be learned on both sides. That the
young lieutenant returned this friendship he took no pains to conceal,
knowing that in Mr. Howe he had an interested friend and adviser. For
some time in the past the keen eye of the former detected a sudden
strange and half concealed manner possessing his young friend, which
completely puzzled him: Various conjectures presented themselves, but
all unsatisfactory and vague. Still further watch was kept upon the
actions of Guy Trevelyan, but nothing appeared to solve the difficult
problem. An opportunity at last rewarded this perseverance. As explained
in a preceding chapter, one side of mysterious question was solved
without any effort or seeking the on the part of any one. By a mere
accident Mr. Howe learned the cause which had so deeply influenced the
course of Guy Trevelyan's actions, and, furthermore, his feelings. Here
was something gained: did it bode good or evil to the young lieutenant?

These were questions that revolved themselves in the mind of the
reasoner. Gladly would he do anything that would further the interest of
his young friend, yet there might be a likelihood of stretching this
prerogative if it in anywise interfered with the direct affairs of
another. Whichever view of the matter was taken difficulty arose on
every hand.

Let us hasten to the main point of the argument. That Lieutenant
Trevelyan loved Lady Rosamond with a pure and ardent love was a matter
beyond doubt. She was the ruling passion that influenced every action,
guarded or unguarded. It was this knowledge that now gave the secretary
so much perplexity. He entertained towards Lady Rosamond a kind and
friendly regard; he was willing to serve her under any ordinary
circumstances and in any friendly capacity. In the present instance Lady
Rosamond was under the charge and protection of Lady Douglas, who would
be, in a measure, responsible for any attachment thus formed while she
remained her guest. On this point were many conscientious scruples to be
overcome, which did not meet the approval of that course of honor which
had hitherto characterized Mr. Howe's principles and actions. He must
not sacrifice these even at the great risk of gaining the happiness of a
young and respected friend.

But the sight of the young lieutenant pleaded more eloquently than the
most glowing and pathetic language. His thoughtful eyes, his pure white
forehead, and clustering ringlets of chestnut hair, had a wealth of
appeal hidden beneath, conveying more subtle beauty than the production
of the countless volumes of mystic ages. Thus situated, the secretary
felt the awkwardness of his position. It was not curiosity that
prompted; it was a secret influence which the young lieutenant
inspired--an influence that held the former bound and enchained with no
means of escape at hand.




CHAPTER X.

THE INTERVIEW.


In a small but handsome reception room adjoining the library of Bereford
Castle sat its stately mistress, with an impatient and eager look upon
her countenance. Trifling with a pretty trinket which she has in her
hand, her ladyship is apparently ill at ease. Something has given cause
for annoyance and grave deliberation. An anxious and hasty glance
towards the door, shows that a visitor is momentarily awaited.

Taking advantage of these moments, I will occupy them in dilating upon a
few of the qualities and characteristics of the distinguished occupant.
Lady Bereford was a woman of shrewdness and capacity, possessing a
subtle weight of influence that bore with irresistible force, and was
stoutly prepared to resist an opposing element in any quarter. The
daughter of a London barrister of considerable reputation, her ladyship
dwelt with pride upon her fond preference for the legal profession. Her
conversation was frequently interspersed with learned remarks, savoring
of the inner temple, its dingy courts, volumes of dust and musty
manuscripts. "Evidence and proof" were leading points always at hand.
Caution was the inevitable watchword, based upon a scrutinizing and at
times heartless penetration. In short, the character of Lady Bereford
might be summed up in a few words--as a cool, clever and calculating
woman of the world--one not to be baffled by ordinary circumstances. On
the present occasion her eye has a fire in its depths that brooks no
interference. Her brows are knotted with an angry frown; as she raises
them hastily, the frown has departed. The small and still plump white
hand is extended. Sir Thomas Seymour bows very low, receives the hand,
kissing the tips of the taper fingers, is seated in an elegantly
embroidered fauteuil opposite her ladyship.

After the usual pleasantries had passed, Sir Thomas commenced by way of
explanation:

"Your ladyship will pardon this detention, from the fact of my being
absent when your note arrived. Business demanding my presence at the
admiralty office I was unavoidably detained for some days. On arriving
yesterday I immediately telegraphed the fact to Lord Bereford, but hope
that the present misfortune will not seriously interfere with any of
your ladyship's plans."

Assuming an air of much importance, her ladyship began; "When I
addressed you, it was merely in the form of a note, not wishing to
convey a subject of such importance to paper, deeming that it demanded
your personal attention. I fully exonerate you by the ready response as
shown at this instance."

This remark Sir Thomas politely acknowledged with a deep bow, while a
shade of uneasiness was visible upon his features.

With another assuming air to gain, if possible, a more wise and legal
manner, her ladyship thus resumed: "Sir Thomas, you must certainly be
aware of my motives in thus requesting an interview. You cannot be
insensible to the fact that it entirely concerns the Lady Rosamond."

Here Sir Thomas became somewhat agitated, but her ladyship continued:
"Strictly speaking, it concerns both families, as how can it apply to
the former without a direct application to Gerald Bereford, in which
case is involved that of his connexions."

Sir Thomas felt the necessity of waiving those points of nicety, but
knowing too well that any interference would entail a more definite
investigation, listened with utmost composure in the hope of instant
relief.

With the stem gravity of a learned judge, ready to pronounce sentence
upon the culprit arraigned, her ladyship in graver tone continued: "I
cannot but admit that the matter has given me very great annoyance. I
again refer to Lady Rosamond."

The affair, at each mention of the latter, assumed a graver importance,
while Sir Thomas inwardly struggled to maintain a studied demeanor as
becoming the grave occasion.

"You are possibly not aware of the position in which her ladyship is
being placed by this temporary separation from her family?" ventured
Lady Bereford, with full interrogative force that at length afforded an
opportunity to Sir Thomas.

"The matter," returned he, "has never given me any serious
apprehensions, and, pardon me, I must confess to your ladyship that
there seem no apparent grounds for any. Lady Rosamond has been made
acquainted with our views regarding Gerald, and knowing this, I have too
much confidence in her nature to harbor a thought that she will either,
in word or action, entertain a wish in opposition to that of a fond and
solicitous parent."

"I admit that Lady Rosamond is indeed a worthy and dutiful daughter;
yet, pardon me, there are many little undesirable and inconsistent
fancies which, in the waywardness of youth, are ready to take form in
the tender and susceptible nature of a young girl, and which, if not
constantly watched, assume a degree of strength almost uncontrollable.
Allow me to state the case," continued her ladyship, "when, perhaps, you
may see the matter in a clearer light."

At mention of the word _case_ Sir Thomas dreaded another succession of
legal points, but demurely listened to the following version:

"You have unwittingly placed your child in a very dangerous position. To
none would I so readily give the protection of my daughter as Lady
Douglas, who is, in every sense, a true mother and a dignified woman;
yet there are moments when Lady Rosamond can assert her right to control
her own impulses and feelings. As a guest she has an entire right, while
it would otherwise be a stretch of prerogative on the part of the
guardian."

"You cannot but admit," said her ladyship, still bent on influencing her
attentive listener, "that Lady Rosamond is indeed very beautiful, which
alone has sufficient reason to sustain my argument. Beauty, through
countless ages, has been the source of much misery. Through Helen was
lost a Troy; Cleopatra, Roman glory."

Her ladyship was going to cite further examples when interrupted by Sir
Thomas exclaiming:

"Your ladyship will pardon me, but it would certainly be deep injustice
at present to raise an objection on this point; it surely did not bring
misery in its train to Lord Bereford."

At this compliment to her beauty and vanity, a rare smile lit the face
of Lady Bereford, while she gaily added:

"Sir Thomas, you still cling to your former gallantry with the
pertinacity of an ill-favored suitor."

Seeing that the last evidence was ill-grounded, her ladyship, having
reconsidered the situation, again resumed:

"You must admit that among the military staff of Sir Howard Douglas
there are many attractive and eligible young gentlemen worthy of the
hand of the fairest. Besides, there are many families holding high
position in New Brunswick, the descendants of persons of rank equal to
our own. Among these are gentlemen--brave, handsome, and equally
fascinating. It would indeed be a very extraordinary case if the Lady
Rosamond, with all her beauty and accomplishments, daily surrounded by
an admiring crowd, should not unconsciously fall a prey to her already
susceptible nature. Sir Thomas," continued her ladyship, with more
vehemence in her manner, "you do not seem to weigh matters as I do, or
you would certainly see the error you have committed--the great wrong
you have done to your child. Were I to disclose the facts, they would
astonish you, but if in the future, when too late you make such a
discovery, you will have only yourself to blame. That Lady Rosamond has
formed an attachment I am certain; of its value I am not prepared to
say; but, in honor to Gerald Bereford, I have a right to demand your
attention."

At this sudden declaration Sir Thomas was astounded.

"Where is the proof of this?" demanded he in startling surprise.

Her ladyship then referred to the letter--its unconnected and
half-hidden sentences--and expressed her firm conviction of the
certainty of those predictions.

Sir Thomas drew a sigh of relief when he found no stronger evidence
against the straightforward and conscientious spirit that had hitherto
pervaded his loved child.

Lady Bereford possessed the tactics of a clever reasoner. When she had
failed in bringing her own arguments to bear directly she had recourse
to more forcible measures. The mention of Gerald Bereford had
instantaneous effect. Sir Thomas' eye brightened with renewed lustre;
his whole expression betrayed the ruling passion within him. Her
ladyship took advantage of the situation.

"If you will empower me to act in this case there will be no further
trouble to be apprehended. Woman is the best judge of woman. Leave the
matter in my hands, Sir Thomas, and you will have no further anxiety. I
will assure you that Gerald will meet no refusal when he asks Lady
Rosamond to become his wife."

Sir Thomas yielded. He knew that in this lay his child's happiness,
which, as a parent, he was in duty bound to promote.

"Your ladyship is right," exclaimed Sir Thomas, "but in granting this I
request that you will not in any way shorten the visit of Lady
Rosamond."

"Rest assured," cried her ladyship, "that no such demands will be made.
The happiness of her ladyship will be our sole interest; kind and
friendly advice, with gentle admonition, is the only safeguard."

When Lady Bereford had gained the case (according to her legal version)
her manner changed as if by magic. Gay smiles played over her features
with inexpressible delight; her voice was soft, smooth, and bewitching
with sweetness.

Sir Thomas was persuaded to remain to luncheon. The party consisted of
the family, Sir Thomas, and Colonel Trevelyan, a gentleman whose
acquaintance Lord Bereford formed while visiting an old friend. The
conversation was friendly and animated. Many topics of general interest
afforded them an opportunity to pass the hours in a pleasant, lively and
genial manner. Having by accident referred to his connection with the
Peninsula campaign, Lord Bereford was delighted to find another intimate
friend of Sir Howard Douglas. Sir Thomas Seymour joined heartily in the
general discourse. Colonel Trevelyan, or properly speaking Sir Guy
Trevelyan, told many incidents of military and social life, in which Sir
Howard and himself had figured quite conspicuously.

Great was Maude Bereford's delight when she learned that the young
officer, so often alluded to in the letters received from Mary Douglas,
was the son of their guest. At this intelligence a sudden frown rested
on Lady Bereford's brow, but momentarily vanished. She had gained her
point; such matters did not so forcibly affect her now. Naturally many
inquiries were made respecting the young lieutenant, all of which were
answered in a quiet and unassuming way. The character of the father
betrayed that of his son. Without questioning why Maude Bereford felt a
deep interest in the young unknown, she had already been forming plans
of inquiry to ascertain a further knowledge. Lady Rosamond would
certainly be able to give her a correct description. Certainly her
ladyship must spend much time in the company of one who had such claims
on the friendship of Sir Howard. Reasoning thus was the gentle daughter
of Lady Bereford, while the latter was exultant in having formed a plan
for the furtherance of a scheme which lay near her heart.

The next morning her ladyship was alone in her boudoir. A delicately
folded sheet lay upon the exquisitely inlaid writing desk before her.
Satisfaction beams upon her by occasional smiles. Again she seizes the
unclosed letter, examines closely its contents, and, with evident ease,
places it in an envelope which she seals and addresses. A servant in
livery answers the summons of a silver bell standing beside the desk.
Her ladyship, drawing aside a hanging of silver tissue, approaches the
door where the missive is delivered in charge of the liveried attendant.
With a sense of relief Lady Bereford returns to the library to await the
morning mail.

Lady Bereford indeed lavished all the fondness of a mother's pride upon
her first-born. Maude was to her a simple-minded, gentle girl, whose
sole influence was her mother's will. The daughter of Lord Bereford was
a true type of her father: gentle, conscientious and sympathetic.

In Lady Rosamond, Maude Bereford could see no reason for such anxiety as
was manifested by her mother, yet she would feel disappointed if her
companion would form another attachment. Maude loved her brother with
all the tenderness of her nature, while Gerald Bereford returned this
love with deep fervent gratitude. His sister was to him the connecting
link with Lady Rosamond. He took pleasure in daily walks with Maude,
whose playful childish ways often reminded him of the absent cousin. The
future lord of Bereford Castle was worthy the love of the fairest,
purest and truest. He possessed a spirit of independent manliness, and
would brook no favor that was not warranted by honor.

When Gerald Bereford asked his uncle for a right to address the Lady
Rosamond, it was from a spirit of honor. He dearly loved the beautiful
girl, though he had never avowed his feelings, and when she treated his
advances with coolness, he still cherished the hope that in the end his
love would be reciprocated. On receiving the joyful assurance from Sir
Thomas that the great object of both families was the consummation of
these hopes, the ardent lover was happy beyond doubt. Sir Thomas had led
Gerald Bereford to believe that the Lady Rosamond had always favoured
his suit, but in girlish caprice had refused him any encouragement until
the expiration of her visit, when she would return home ready to receive
the courtly attentions of her relative.

Cheered by these fond assurances, Gerald Bereford did anxiously look
forward to Lady Rosamond's return. Sir Thomas had indeed communicated
this matter to his nephew with a firm assurance of the realization on
the part of both. He doubted the true feelings of his child, but he was
determined that the event should take place after sufficient time had
elapsed. Lady Bereford knew that Sir Thomas was really deceiving himself
as well as his nephew; but with the keen perception of her nature, kept
her own counsel. She, as well as Sir Thomas, was determined to carry out
her design, for which purpose she closely concealed part of her views
from Maude upon the reading of Lady Rosamond's letter, also her message
to Sir Thomas, their interview, concessions and result.

Practical and calculating woman of the world as was Lady Bereford, might
it be possible that she could heartlessly seal that daintily perfumed
missive which was to become the source of such almost unendurable
anguish? Really, one would fain exculpate her ladyship of the great
wrong--a wrong which for years could not be obliterated from the hearts
of those whose sufferings were borne silently and without reproach, each
bearing the burden with a sickening heart, feeling that death would be a
happy relief.

What a world is ours. What a problem is life. Is there any word in the
English language more suggestive? Life--its surroundings, aspects, all
its outward associations. Is this the limit? Would to Heaven in some
instances it were so, that the end be thus. What a hollow mockery does
it impart to the heart of Lady Rosamond, whose cause of misery remains
as yet half told. Life--a troubled dream, a waking reality, yet we cling
to it with fond delusive hopes. What astute reasoner will solve, the
intricacies of this problem? Can one who has suffered? The muffled
throes of crushed hearts are the only response. God pity them!




CHAPTER XI.

FREDERICTON: ITS BUILDINGS, PUBLIC HOUSES, AMUSEMENTS, ETC


The year following the great fire was marked by great progress
throughout the Province. Farmers were again in homes which they had
built upon the site of those destroyed by the devouring element. Fields
once more showed signs of cultivation. With Sir Howard Douglas to
stimulate the prosperity of his people, progress was the watchword--the
general impulse.

Fredericton, like the phoenix, had arisen from its ashes; buildings
arose in rapid succession. Wooden houses of moderate pretensions lined
Queen and King streets, from Westmorland to Carleton street, the limit
of the burnt district.

Business was carried on by a few upright and enterprising merchants,
foremost of whom stood Rankine & Co., the leading firm of the city. This
establishment was situated on Queen street, between Northumberland and
Westmorland streets, in which was constantly pouring an unlimited source
of supplies for conducting the immense lumber trade established by this
firm, whose name shall be remembered while New Brunswick shall continue
to produce one stick of timber. Many farmers of that time yet have
occasion to refer to the generosity which characterized this long
established firm. Many yet bless the name of Rankine & Co.

The public buildings of our city were in keeping with the private
residences. No Barker House or Queen Hotel adorned our principal street
as now; no City Hall, Normal School, or Court House. On the present site
of the Barker House was a long two-story wooden building, designated as
Hooper's Hotel under the proprietorship of Mr. Hooper. This was the only
accommodation for public dinners, large parties, balls, etc In this
hotel the St. George Society annually celebrated their anniversary by a
grand dinner party where heart-stirring speeches, toasts and patriotic
songs, were the general order of programme, of which the following
verses are an example. They were composed in April 1828, and sung by one
of the members of this society at a public dinner that year, after the
toast of "Lord Aylmer and the Colonies." The idea was suggested to the
young law student by looking upon a map showing the territory explored
by the Cabots and called Cabotia. The writer will be readily recognized
as one of New Brunswick's most eloquent, gifted, and favored statesmen,
recently holding the highest position in the Province:--

    When England bright,
    With Freedom's light,
    Shone forth in dazzling splendor,
    She scorned to hold,
    The more than gold,
    From those who did befriend her;
    At space she spurned,
    With love she burned,
    And straight across the ocean
    Sent Freedom's rays,
    T' illume their days
    And quell their sons' commotion.
            Hail, Britannia!
            Thou loving, kind Britannia!
            Ne'er failed to wield
            Thy spear and shield.
            To guard our soil, Britannia!

    But rebels choose
    For to refuse,
    The boon thus kindly granted,
    And with vile art,
    In many a heart,
    Black discord's seeds they planted;
    Now civil war,
    In bloody car,
    Rode forth--and Desolation,
    Extended wide,
    Its horrid stride
    For mock emancipation.
            O Cabotia!
            Old England's child Cabotia!
            No rebel cloud[3]
            Did e'er enshroud
            Thy sacred soil, Cabotia!

    The purple flood
    Of traitors' blood
    Sent vapors black to heaven,
    And hid the blaze
    Of Freedom's rays,
    By a kind parent given;
    But Liberty,
    Quite loath to see,
    America neglected,
    Came to our land,
    And with kind hand
    Her temple here erected;
            O Cabotia!
            Them favored land, Cabotia!
            While we have breath
            We'll smile at death,
            To guard thy soil, Cabotia!

    When foreign foes
    We did oppose,
    Britannia stood our second,
    And those we fought
    Were dearly taught,
    Without their host they reckoned;
    And should they now,
    With hostile prow,
    But press, our lakes and rivers,
    The Giant-stroke,
    From British oak,
    Would rend their keels to shivers.
            And thou, Cabotia!
            Old England's child Cabotia!
            Would see thy race
            In death's embrace
            Before they'd yield Cabotia!

    While Shamrock, Rose,
    And Thistle grow,
    So close together blended,
    New Brunswick ne'er
    Will need to fear,
    But that she'll be befriended;
    We need not quake,
    For nought can break
    The sacred ties that bind us,
    And those, who'd spoil
    Our hallowed soil,
    True blue are sure to find us.
            O Cabotia!
            Our native land, Cabotia!
            For thee we'll drain
            Our every vein,
            Old England's Child Cabotia!

[Footnote 3: Long before the Canadian Rebellion.]

Here the St. Andrews Society also gave their national celebration. Last,
but not least, came the St. Patrick Society. The last named might,
indeed, be called _the_ Society. Aided and encouraged by Colonel
Minchin, Hon. Thomas Bailie, Mr. Phair, and many other distinguished
Irish gentlemen, the St. Patrick's Society of Fredericton at that time
attained a high social position. On St. Patrick's eve a yearly
celebration also took place, the place of rendezvous being situated on
Carleton street, adjoining the building now occupied as the post office.
Eloquent and patriotic speeches were the leading features of those
meetings. The following instance will serve to give an idea of the
spirit which inspired those reunions. On one occasion a member of this
organization--a well-known citizen of Fredericton for many years--spoke
as follows: "Mr. President and gentlemen, I wish to call your attention
to a subject which should fire the heart of every Irishman. Who was the
gallant soldier, the true patriot, the hero who never once shrank from
the fiercest of the fight, whose only glory was in his country's cause?
Who led his army conquering and to conquer, facing the foe with the calm
and intrepid coolness of one who knew not the meaning of fear? Who fought
with fierce determination to conquer or die when surrounded by thousands
of armed guerillas on the outskirts of Spain? Who dared to face Napoleon?
Who dared to conquer the iron will of the Bourbon mandate? Who but the
proud 'hero of a hundred fights,'--the Duke of Wellington! What country
gave him birth?" "Ireland!" was the answer, amid deafening shouts of
applause which caused the building to shake beneath their feet. This is
but one of the stories told of those meetings, showing the spirit of
interest manifested.

To return to hotels. On the site at present occupied by the Queen Hotel
formerly stood the Market Inn, kept by Mr. Richard Staples. This was a
comfortable and convenient house, frequented by farmers as they came to
the city to dispose of their produce. In those days people settled
principally near the St. John river and its numerous tributaries, with
their lakes; therefore farmers generally used small boats for means of
conveyance, waggons being looked upon as an extravagant
luxury. Another public house, kept by Mr. Robert Welch, and known as the
Albion Hotel, also occupied a prominent position, being well furnished
and affording comfort and good accommodation to the travelling public. On
Waterloo Row was situated the time-honored Royal Oak, kept by Miss Polly
Van Horn, a name well known to those residing in the lower country
districts.

Of other public institutions less may be said. On the square now adorned
by the imposing City Hall, with its memorable clock, formerly stood or
rather squatted the old Tank House, serving rather in the capacity of
use than ornament. An old marketplace occupied the ground on which is
now erected the County Court House.

It would be impossible to enter into details regarding every building;
we merely cite a few facts to give a general idea of the situation of
Fredericton at that time.

Before leaving these matters we must not omit mention of a quiet social
organization then known as the Philharmonic Society. It was composed of
a number of young gentlemen, members of the most influential families of
the city. Wallace, band-master of H. M. 52nd regiment, took an active
part in instructing these youths, who, within a short period, had
acquired such proficiency as to enable them to give a series of
entertainments in Hooper's Hotel. These consisted of selections
displaying musical skill, ability and taste.

Conspicuous among the members of the Philharmonic Society was a young
student named Vivian Yorke, afterwards a member of the legal profession;
in later years, his burning eloquence had power to thrill the eager
audience attendant upon his appearance. As a lover of music, the young
scholar had from his childhood won a reputation beyond his years, while
his association with the organization had given it a stimulus worthy
such encouragement. Vivian Yorke had won high position within the social
circle as well. His genial disposition, frank, manly bearing, dignified
form and handsome face were sufficient passports irrespective of his
other claims to distinction. It is almost needless to add, that Mr.
Yorke stood high in the estimation of the band-master, who arranged
several airs especially adapted to a number of patriotic songs composed
by his talented pupil. In succeeding chapters we will allude to the
rising career of Mr. Yorke as the occasion demands.

In this year the House of Assembly was opened by a warm debate upon the
College Bill, which received stout resistance from all dissenting
bodies. The episcopalians sought aid from the Archbishop of Canterbury
and the Bishop of Nova Scotia. But the judgment of Sir Howard was equal
to the occasion. His measures were such as must ultimately accomplish
the desired end.

The 52nd Regiment, as yet stationed in Fredericton, still maintained
their unbounded popularity, entertained their many friends at princely
dinners, gave an unlimited number of balls, parties and festive
gatherings. The race course still continued to be the daily resort for
the distinguished horsemen. Races were a favorite pastime. Cricket and
foot-ball had now become quite common. On the old square situated
between York street and Wilmot's alley the youths of the city daily
assembled to practise these sports, while the military occupied a space
within their own ground. The inhabitants also enjoyed the music
furnished by the 52nd band, which almost daily performed in the
officers' square.

A large and imposing structure was now being erected upon the exact site
where the former Government House stood. The present building, owing to
its greater proportions, consequently covered more ground. The model was
a handsome residence in the island of Jamaica; the plans were drawn up
by a celebrated architect, who had formerly been acquainted with Sir
Howard Douglas, under whose direct supervision the entire building was
constructed.

As, for some time, New Brunswick was ruled by a military governor,
Government House was so arranged that a military and civil staff could
each occupy a separate wing of the building, while the main body was
allotted to the family. It was well for the Province that Sir Howard
Douglas was then at hand. The handsome and substantial edifice remains a
lasting monument of grateful remembrance.

While public affairs are thus engrossing the attention of the country at
large, the family of Sir Howard are now quietly enjoying their temporary
home in the lower part of the town. Lady Douglas, beloved by all, is
assisting and cheering His Excellency with all the energy of her nature.
The young ladies are happy in their varied labors of love.

Lady Rosamond has not yet turned her thoughts homeward, save to quiet
the rebellious thoughts that rise with occasional and twofold
bitterness; she has the heavy trial before her; she drives away the
mocking realities of the future. Vain are the hours wasted in useless
repining. When Lady Rosamond made the disclosure to her companion, Mary
Douglas, receiving the full and deep sympathy of true friendship, had
she fully relieved her mind of its entire burden--its crushing weight?
Ah, no! there was hidden deep in the most remote corner of Lady
Rosamond's heart a secret which she would never reveal. Time would bring
its changes. Her ladyship would return to her native home, and, amidst
its gay scenes, pass a lifetime of seeming happiness; and the secret
will burn its impress in characters of flame.

One evening Lady Douglas remained in her own apartments somewhat longer
than her custom. Had prying eyes been active the cause might be assigned
to the entrance of Lady Rosamond, who had joined her ladyship nearly an
hour previous. On seeing the agitated face of the pale but beautiful
girl her ladyship experienced a pang of deep remorse. She felt her
strength deserting her, yet the task was to be accomplished.

"Rosamond, my darling," said the gentle lady, "I have received a letter
from Lady Bereford, who, judging from the tone of the writing, seems to
have some anxiety on your behalf."

This revelation afforded momentary relief to the high-born girl, who
was, indeed, a lovely picture, reclining on a cushion at the feet of
Lady Douglas. A shade of sadness rested upon her face, giving her the
expression of a Madonna--a study for Raphael.

"Lady Bereford intimates, in touching terms, that I am to exercise a
careful surveillance upon your girlish fancies," continued her ladyship,
with slight sarcasm in her tone.

"Rosamond, my darling," cried she, by way of apostrophe, "I have every
reason to place in you full confidence. I cannot see any ground for such
intimation."

"Your ladyship is right," returned Lady Rosamond, throwing her arms
around the neck of Lady Douglas, giving full vent to the feelings which
almost overwhelmed her, adding, between tears and sobs: "I have always
obeyed my father's wishes and will not shrink from my duty now. Gerald
Bereford is worthy of a nobler wife than I dare ever hope to be. He has
indeed conferred on me a distinguished honor, and I must try to make
amends with all the gratitude of which I am capable."

Saying this the brave girl tried to force a smile, which, from its
superficial nature, cost a great effort, adding:

"Your ladyship will have nothing to fear; my father's wishes are mine."

From the spirit of determination, which left an impress on the beautiful
features of Lady Rosamond, Lady Douglas apprehended no need of
interference. She knew that Lady Rosamond would fulfil her father's
wishes. She was aware that the affectionate daughter would return his
confidence, even at the greatest sacrifice a woman can make. The noble
nature of Lady Douglas felt deep sympathy for her gentle relative--a
vague uneasiness filled her mind. Some moments later when Lady Rosamond
appeared in a rich and elegant dinner costume not a trace of emotion was
visible. Its recent effects had entirely disappeared. Lady Douglas had
found an opportunity to form an estimate of the strength of character
which sustained the apparently gentle and passive maiden.

At the dinner table of Government House everyone seemed to vie in good
humored gaiety and flow of spirited, animating conversation. Each tried
to please. All clouds of despondency vanished upon this occasion. Sir
Howard always set the example. Pressing cares of state, perplexing
questions, and endless grievances, took speedy and ignominous flight
when he entered the family circle. All was unrestrained pleasure and
genial delight on this evening. Lady Rosamond was seated beside the gay
and attractive secretary, who was endeavoring to engage his companion as
an ally against the more formidable onset of Captain Douglas. She did
fairly surprise the latter by the earnestness of her replies, her
forcible expressions, and the weighty arguments upheld by superior
judgment. Lieutenant Trevelyan, as he converses with Lady Douglas,
betrays no outward feeling. He shows no preference for Lady Rosamond,
being more frequently the companion and attendant of Mary Douglas, who,
in trusting friendship, reposes in her young friend a happy confidence.
Despite this assumed ease on the part of Guy Trevelyan, the keen
interest hitherto exhibited by Mr. Howe has lost none of its freshness.
The charm still lingers. All hope has not fled, though the light is in
the uncertain future. In Lady Rosamond the well concerted plans of the
secretary find no compromise. Dreading an exposure of her weakness she
has thrown around her a formidable barrier which the most deadly shafts
cannot penetrate. In the possession of this defence she can withstand
the united efforts of a lengthy siege. Upon all those operations she can
look grimly on and bid defiance. Mr. Howe felt this as he tried to force
an entrance to the heart of this lovely maiden to wrest from her, if
possible, a secret that would give a hopeful assurance to his projects.
An incident shortly afterwards occurred which forever banished those
thoughts from his mind, leaving no further room for doubt; still the
fact cannot be overlooked, that the spirit which pervaded the private
secretary of Sir Howard Douglas, was fraught with generosity and true
manliness.

One evening as Captain Douglas and the latter were indulging in a quiet
chat the conversation turned upon Lady Rosamond.

"She is indeed possessed of remarkable strength of character, which is
the more surprising from the natural timidity and gentleness of her
disposition," remarked Captain Douglas.

"I have greatly admired her of late, and have, on more than one occasion
tried to study the depths of her nature," returned Mr. Howe, with sudden
earnestness. He was bent upon disclosing further plans to his friend
when the latter exclaimed:

"By jove! Gerald Bereford is a lucky fellow, to win the Lady Rosamond as
his future bride."

A look of startled surprise betrayed the excited feelings of Mr. Howe,
leading Captain Douglas to remark:

"Look here, old chap, one would be apt to imagine that _you_ were deeply
smitten were they now to get a glimpse of your face."

Mr. Howe smiled.

"Yes," continued Charles Douglas, "her ladyship is to marry her cousin,
Gerald Bereford, shortly after her arrival in England."

This was certainly a new aspect of affairs. Mr. Howe now viewed the
matter in another light, yet he could not heartily respond. Vainly he
strove to banish these thoughts, silently murmuring "poor Trevelyan!"




CHAPTER XII.

CHANGE.


We now arrive at the period when many changes are about to take place.
The gayest and most gallant regiment ever stationed in Fredericton was
under orders to be in readiness for departure. This was a source of much
regret to the citizens, who shared in the extravagant scenes of gaiety
so lavishly furnished. The sportsmen of Fredericton lamented the fact
with deep regret. We cannot let this opportunity pass to relate an
incident showing to what excess horse racing was carried in those days.
Captain H----, an officer of the above named regiment, a true sporting
character, owned a stud of the best thorough-breds in America. He
annually spent an immense income in horse racing and various sports. In
the meantime there lived in the city of St. John a coachman named Larry
Stivers. If ever any individual sacrificed his entire heart and soul to
the management, training and nature of horses, it was the self same
Larry. Though possessed of limited means, no privation was too great in
order to gratify such demands. A race was finally agreed upon between
Captain H---- and this remarkable individual, which in the horse records
of New Brunswick has no precedent, the case being unparalleled at home
or abroad. One fine morning in March, 1826, the magnificent team of
horses, driven by the captain, made its appearance in the market square,
St. John. After the lapse of a few moments a second team arrived and was
drawn up aside the former. No inquiry was made as to the ownership of
the latter. Everybody recognized it as the turnout of Larry Stivers. But
the most remarkable feature of the proceeding, that excited curiosity,
was the slight construction of the sleighs. It could scarcely be
conceived that they would stand the trying test of the proposed race.
But they did. Each driver having purchased a bundle of whips, jumped
into his seat. The word was given. Off they went at full speed, going
the first nine miles over bare ground. The news spread over the city of
St. John with almost incredible rapidity. Excitement filled the mind of
everybody. No telegraphic despatches could furnish details as at the
present. On they trotted side by side over the smooth surface of the St.
John river, which course had been taken after the first nine miles.
Whips were freely used upon the flagging animals. Sometimes Captain
H---- kept ahead, in another minute Larry was quite a distance in
advance. On, on the infuriated animals raced to the heavy lashes of
their merciless drivers. Whip after whip was broken; still on they went
over the glittering surface, the only sound the ceaseless crackling of
whips and the ring of hoofs upon the still frosty atmosphere. About nine
miles from Fredericton, as those heartless sportsmen were madly urging
on their jaded beasts, a well-known lumber merchant of the town was
accosted by the leader demanding a whip, which, one is sorry to
acknowledge, was given. They had used the whole bundle, and mercilessly
begged for more. Still on they came, the exhausted animals panting and
ready to fall. The goal must be reached. Fredericton must be the only
stopping place. One at least was to be disappointed. Four miles have yet
to be passed. Larry Stivers is ahead, with visions of hopeful victory
before him. He is suddenly stopped. One of the brave animals dropped
dead on the spot. Hope instantly vanished. Captain H---- wins the race,
while the former arrives shortly after his contestant with the dead
animal upon the sleigh. Fredericton is reached. A distance of
eighty-five miles is trotted in six hours and thirty minutes, inclusive
of twenty minutes for rest and dinner. This wonderful feat caused
general astonishment. Hundreds drove from Fredericton to meet the
contestants, while crowds gathered to see the effect thus produced upon
the poor exhausted animals. Soldiers were in attendance upon their
arrival, almost dragging them up the bank. Being rubbed and dosed they
were soon restored. The horse that dropped had been substituted for the
famous "Tanner," and not having sufficient training was unequal to the
task. The surviving animal, belonging to Larry Stivers, afterwards
became one of the best and fastest horses in the Province. This incident
is not introduced to interest horsemen, but merely to show how far men's
judgment may be led astray by the force of such ruling passions.

To return to our narrative. Hearty demonstrations were participated in
by the citizens in testimony of the appreciation of the military. Balls
were given, dinners, speeches and testimonials. No efforts remained
untried to express deep sympathy. Great was the joy at Government House
when Captain Douglas informed the family of Lieutenant Trevelyan's being
transferred to the succeeding regiment. Colonel Trevelyan had obtained
this change at the request of Sir Howard and Lady Douglas. Though a
favorite in the 52nd regiment, Lieutenant Trevelyan's character did not
harmonize with those of his brother officers--a circumstance that did
not escape the notice of His Excellency. The matter formed the subject
of correspondence between the latter and Colonel Trevelyan, resulting in
the announcement previously made by Captain Douglas. Much delight shone
on every countenance. Lady Douglas congratulated her young friend. Mary
Douglas testified her joy with childish gaiety. Pioneer Johnnie looked
forward to another sylvan pilgrimage with boyish glee. Merriment had
exchanged places with murmuring and regret. The secretary alone remained
in a state bordering on hesitation. He would indeed miss his boyish
companion, yet the sense of his presence gave pain. Though not expressed
by word or action, he was aware of the deep and passionate attachment
which Lieutenant Trevelyan had formed for Lady Rosamond Seymour. He was
aware of the hopeless result of this knowledge, and felt a sense of
relief in the thought that changing scenes and new acquaintances might
claim attention and heal the wound which otherwise would remain fresh
and painful.

The arrival of the 81st regiment was, as customary on such occasions,
celebrated by a general muster of the citizens.

The York County Militia presented a fine soldierly appearance. The
grenadiers were indeed worthy of the tribute paid to their manly form
and graceful bearing. Conspicuous was the rising favorite, Vivian Yorke.
His flashing eye, regular features, broad, intellectual forehead, and
firmly chiselled lips, received many compliments as he stood beside his
companions. Lieutenant Trevelyan, in the military staff of His
Excellency, also was not allowed to pass unnoticed. It was a remarkable
coincidence that on this occasion, as the crowd bore down upon the
company, Lieutenant Trevelyan was nearly in line with the young
grenadier officer. A thoughtless young lady, standing near, exclaimed
hastily to her companion: "Fanny, how much that young officer resembles
Mr. Yorke." The remark being overheard by both parties, caused slight
embarrassment, accompanied by a boyish blush from Lieutenant Trevelyan.
Though an intimacy was formed between those young gentlemen, no allusion
was made to the circumstance until many years afterwards, when Mr. Yorke
was in England transacting some important political business, he was
laughingly reminded of the affair by a gentleman in the prime of
manhood--no longer a blushing young officer. Mr. Yorke and Sir Guy
Trevelyan joined heartily in the joke, the former remarking that this
young lady must have been colorblind in respect to their eyes. Many such
comparisons were made rendering defective the perception of the fair
judge, and causing much amusement to the assembled company. But this is
a digression which the reader will excuse.

Lieutenant Trevelyan was now serving in H. M. 81st regiment under the
command of Colonel Creagh--a veteran of Waterloo--who was highly pleased
with the flattering testimonial he had received from Major McNair,
relative to the irreproachable character borne by the young favorite.

A heavy cloud lowered over Government House. Its inmates were once more
wrapped in gloomy thought. Mary Douglas already felt the pang of
separation. Lady Rosamond was to return home. Her visit had been
lengthened beyond the term allowed; now she must obey the summons
without further delay. Painful thoughts crossed her ladyship's mind as
she made the necessary preparations. Her fate was already sealed. She
could not turn aside the resistless torrent that marked the course over
which she must be borne by the skill of the fearless and merciless
pilot, Lady Bereford.

In the outward conduct of Lady Rosamond none could detect the spirit
which actuated her feelings. Lady Douglas closely watched every
movement. Were it not for the emotion which the former betrayed on
receiving the contents of Lady Bereford's letter, would it not have
occurred to her to suspect the heart of Lady Rosamond. It was this
circumstance which gave concern to Lady Douglas. She kept her own
counsel, yet was impressed with the belief that Sir Thomas Seymour, in
conjunction with Lady Bereford, was forcing her favorite into a marriage
that was distasteful to her wishes. The longer her ladyship dwelt upon
the matter the more deeply she felt concerned; but knowing the
inflexible temper of Sir Thomas and the influence of Lady Bereford, she
concluded that the case was indeed a hopeless one.

Mary Douglas was the only being to whom Lady Rosamond had confided the
secret relative to her father's wishes. Some days preceding her
departure the beautiful features of the young girl bore traces of grief.
In the arms of her fond companion she had wept sad and bitter tears.

"This shall be the last exhibition of my feelings," vehemently cried
Lady Rosamond, "you will never again see a tear of mine, at least from
the same cause, but darling promise me now that you will never divulge
my secret?"

"Accept my promise, Rosamond," returned Mary, impressing a fond kiss
upon the lips of the gentle and loving girl.

The promise thus made was faithfully kept to be referred to in after
years as a dream of the past which was still fresh in the beauty and
loveliness of true friendship.

Lieutenant Trevelyan bore the knowledge of Lady Rosamond's departure
with firm composure. He was kind, genial and entertaining. The strange
and uneasy expression came and went with no remark save that it gave
much annoyance to the kind hearted secretary.

The latter saw that no advances were made on the part of the young
lieutenant. Her ladyship would depart while the story would remain
untold.

It is needless to enter into the details attendant upon Lady Rosamond's
removal from Government House. Sad and tender were the scenes. Mary
Douglas could not repress the stifling sobs and outbursts of grief. True
to the previous determination, her ladyship had schooled herself for the
trying moment. Under the tender care of Sir Howard, the lovely girl took
leave of Fredericton, leaving behind those whom she fondly loved. She
carried with her many reminiscences of the scenes and trials through
which she had passed never to be forgotten throughout her lifetime.

In the meantime a question arose in political affairs which required the
mature deliberation of Sir Howard. The boundary dispute was now argued
within every district with an earnestness that showed the importance of
the cause. The present grievance had grown out of a former one.

In the treaty of 1873, the description of boundary limits between the
United States and the Colonies was vague. Owing to a want of proper
procedure, England and America merely took their limits from a certain
point on the coast, one choosing to the right the other to the left.

The interior boundary was the watershed dividing the sources of the
Connecticut and St. Croix rivers from those which emptied into the St.
Lawrence. By this the Americans gained all the land bordering their own
rivers, while the British had the banks of all the rivers extending to
the sea coast. Breach after breach was made, yearly inroads upon British
territory were effected, until the free navigation of the St. Lawrence
was claimed, leaving the colonies without a frontier.

In the State of Maine, a hostile feeling influenced the entire
population. A spirit of fiery independence asserted itself in the face
of the British government. Sir Howard kept his eye on the stealthy
movements of his disorderly neighbors. He was not to be outwitted by
such aggressions; he was determined that neither Colonist nor American
should transgress; his rights were to be respected. A New Brunswicker
had been prosecuted for attempting to interfere. Equal justice was to be
extended to all. The filibusters were not to be pacified; they abused
England and her representatives in the most violent and abusive terms.
The grievances of Maine must be redressed. Governor Lincoln ordered out
the militia to the frontier, while an army of filibusters was ready to
take possession of the territory. They thought to work a plan to throw
blame upon Sir Howard, in the hope that the English troops might be led
to engage in a conflict with the American militia; but the experience of
the British representative served him aright, as on former occasions.

Baker, an unprincipled filibuster now resolved to force proceedings,
rushed into British ground and tauntingly hoisted the American flag. At
this juncture of affairs it was expected that English troops would
interfere and a general fight would be the result.

Sir Howard had kept the troops at a respectable distance, where he could
order them up at short notice; but he had no such intention. Imagine the
surprise of both parties when a constable, having arrived, knocked down
the flag and took Baker prisoner. Heavy imprecations fell upon such a
course of conduct. Federal troops marched to the frontier, a
circumstance of which the colonists took no notice. Sir Howard took
further steps; he ordered the prisoner to be brought to trial before the
Supreme Court at Fredericton, where he was found guilty, with sentence
of a heavy fine.

Threatening attitudes were assumed by the leaders of this dispute, but
to these Sir Howard paid not the least attention. Messages were sent by
Governor Lincoln with urgent demands for Baker's release without any
effect. They had to treat with one whose character was marked by firm
determination. An American officer was also sent urging the necessity of
the release of the prisoner. He was not granted an interview, but was
kindly cared for in the mess-room of the 81st, where the officers gave
him a hearty reception by a grand dinner, ordered expressly for the
occasion. Despite the swaggering and menacing tone of this guest, the
evening was spent in successive rounds of mirth and exciting gaiety.
Songs, toasts and speeches greeted the ears of the envoy, and amidst
these he almost forgot the object of his mission. At last the fine was
paid. It was not until the matter was finally settled, by the decision
of the king of the Netherlands, that comparative peace was restored.

This chapter now ends, having described the principal events that marked
the year 1827.




CHAPTER XIII.

CHESLEY MANOR--MARRIAGE OF LADY ROSAMOND.


We are again introduced to Lady Rosamond, now reinstated in the home of
her childhood. A sense of gratitude is awakened within her as she fondly
gazes upon the old familiar scenes surrounding Chesley Manor. The quaint
old structure was an exact specimen of an English manor house in the
early part of the seventeenth century, having been designed by an
architect of the royal household in the reign of James the First, whence
it still continued in the possession of its illustrious descendants.

The style adapted to the above named structure was more strictly
domestic than defensive. It was built in quadrangular form, containing
only one large court, upon which opened the stately hall, chapel, and
principal apartments. Though not commanding the imposing aspect and
grandeur of Bereford Castle, Chesley Manor had an air of true gentility
in keeping with that of its owner. Lofty windows, reaching to the
ground, looked out upon the gardens, which were enclosed by a high wall.

The period in which the present edifice was constructed was that of the
best style of English architecture, contrasting the more elegant and
graceful manor house with the frowning keep and embattled walls of the
olden castle.

Surrey, with its old historic associations, was a fitting abode for the
dreamy and poetic nature of the lovely, high-born maiden. The adjoining
districts, with vale and meadow, had a pleasing effect. Long neglected
parks and straggling decayed mansions, afforded ample scope for the
fanciful flights of her ladyship's fond imagination.

Sir Thomas was indeed happy in thus having his daughter once more to
brighten the home so long desolate and lonely. He enjoyed the perpetual
sunshine of her bright presence. He loved to caress his beautiful child
and admire her sweet and bewitching charms. Lady Rosamond seemed happy
when in her father's presence. She returned his tender endearments with
childish and playful gestures; she brought sunshine in her path in which
the flowers of affection bloomed with luxuriant beauty. She was esteemed
by the train of domestics and functionaries who performed the duties of
the household. This fact somewhat conciliated the young mistress of
Chesley Manor. Her grateful nature could not view these matters without
feeling their import.

Wandering through the exquisitely arranged suites of spacious rooms
which had been renovated with a desire to meet her approbation, Lady
Rosamond could not but experience a pang of heartfelt sorrow. Parental
love overcame her weakness. Sir Thomas alone possessed the key that
gained access to her feelings. He alone could turn aside the channel of
her resisting thoughts and mark the course for the tide of conflicting
torrents as they surge madly on.

Maude Bereford is once more cheered in the daily companionship of Lady
Rosamond. In their girlish and pretty ways those lovely girls form a
pleasing picture to grace the interior and surroundings of Chesley
Manor. Maude has a gentle and lovable disposition which wins the
admiration of both sexes. Though not a beauty, she is truly
beautiful--beautiful in heart, beautiful in soul. None see this mental
beauty more clearly than the young mistress of the manor. The gentle
nature and simple-minded heart of Maude Bereford sees in her cousin the
sweetness and worth which are so fondly adored by her brother Gerald.

That Lady Rosamond sees in her future husband all that can make the
heart truly happy is a source of constant delight to her loving cousin.
Maude has not the keen perception of the nature of the human heart.

Lady Bereford was sanguine over the result of her diplomatic tact. There
lay no obstruction in the path which she had marked out for Gerald
Bereford. No rivals had given cause for offence. Lady Rosamond had
readily encouraged the advances made by her suitor. It was now a settled
conclusion. The fact had been communicated throughout the country. Sir
Thomas had already received hearty congratulations on the brilliant
prospects of his only daughter. The event was eagerly anticipated in the
fashionable circles of high life. Many high-born maidens felt a tinge of
jealousy as they listened to the brilliant preparations awaiting the
marriage of the future Lord Bereford. His courtly manners, pleasing
graces, and handsome appearance, were the comment of many. His proud
privileges as peer of the realm, his princely castle and great wealth,
furnished themes for eulogy.

While the great event was pending, and general curiosity was awakened in
the course of proceedings, the Lady Rosamond alone remained passive. She
calmly listened to the different reports of those to whom was entrusted
the management of affairs with an ease that was perplexing in its
simplicity. A genial smile repaid any effort to please. She gave advice
with a gentle deference that surprised her most intimate friends and
companions. With calmness and subdued feelings did her ladyship examine
the costly satins and laces scattered in lavish profusion, and being in
readiness to assume the most courtly and elegant costumes at the
sanction of the fair enchantress. Maude Bereford was radiant with joy,
the delightful prospect was at hand. Bereford Castle was to receive her
dearest Rosamond. A splendid house was to be in readiness in the suburbs
of London, where she would revel in the delights of fashionable society
and the daily companionship of Lady Rosamond.

Gerald Bereford looked forward to the consummation of his hopes with
fond solicitude. Having received from Lady Rosamond a quiet appreciation
of his tenderness and deep love, he dared not to question closely the
motives which actuated her. Sometimes he had momentary doubts concerning
the entire reciprocation of her ladyship's trust and confidence, which
caused considerable anxiety, but the sweet, pensive smile which asserted
itself was sufficient to drive out a host of smothered grievances.

When Lady Rosamond promised to become the wife of Gerald Bereford she
did so from a true sense of duty and affection towards her only parent.
For him she would make the great sacrifice. Did the occasion demand, she
would sacrifice her life on his behalf. In reality she had made such a
test of her faith when she made her betrothal vow, bartering love,
happiness, and life. Yes; life, with its true enjoyments, by this
sacrifice, would become a mocking, bitter trial, to which even death
were gladly welcome. Yet the noble girl shrank not from the task which
the stern voice of duty had assigned. She would bear it without a
murmur. None save Mary Douglas should know the depths of feeling of
which her nature was capable. Gerald Bereford would acknowledge the
daily attention of a kind and dutiful wife. No human being should know a
secret that was to her more than life--a soul within--a burning,
smouldering fire, around which clings the shuddering form of outraged
Hope. Lady Rosamond has kept her secret, therefore the writer will keep
it in respect to her ladyship's inward sanctity. The reader may have
gained it; if not, dear reader, you will in the end be rewarded for your
patience by a disclosure. In the meantime let us follow her ladyship
through all the perplexing moments of her unhappy existence, admiring
the true courage and grateful sentiments which sustain her.

The day appointed for the eventful ceremony had arrived. Cards of
invitation having been issued to the most distinguished nobility
throughout the kingdom, a vast assemblage of expectant guests filled the
seats and aisles of the ancient gothic cathedral in which the marriage
was about to be solemnized. Happy smiles beamed upon all faces as they
glanced around the handsome edifice so beautifully decorated for the
occasion. Flowers and garlands were lavishly strewn around, scattered
upon the floor, upon the steps, upon the way-side; literally all space
was crowned with flowers. Gerald Bereford was truly a prepossessing
bridegroom, worthy of loving and being loved in return. His truthful
countenance was beaming with manly love. He was now ready to pronounce
those vows which in his heart met a ready response. Lady Rosamond and
her train of lovely bridesmaids have arrived. Hundreds of spectators are
anxious to catch a passing glimpse of the beautiful bride as she is led
to the altar by Sir Thomas Seymour, who gazes with loving tenderness
upon the object so soon to be taken from his heart and home.

The feverish flush of excitement upon the transparent complexion of the
bride lent additional aid to her matchless charms. Lady Rosamond is
indeed a creature of surpassing loveliness. The soft texture of white
satin that floats in bewitching folds of drapery around the faultless
form is heightened in effect by an intermixture of costly lace and
flashing jewels. The bridal veil, with its coronet of diamonds and
orange blossoms, conceals the features so passive in the efforts to
conceal the emotions which are struggling within the bosom of the fair
one as she slowly utters those vows which, in accordance with her former
resolve, she will earnestly strive to perform. Conscience awakens in her
a deep shudder by setting forth painful convictions of promises given
where her heart beats no response. But lady Rosamond felt relief from
the thought of her efforts to do what she could to atone for this
knowledge. Her husband would be happy in her presence if not her love.
Those were the thoughts that occupied the lovely bride as she accepted
the congratulations of the crowd who gathered around her. A pleasing
smile greeted every one of the guests; even Lady Bereford was satisfied
with the grateful acknowledgement. The bridegroom was a happy man. He
adored his lovely bride. He looked upon her as the perfect embodiment of
love and truth. Such were the sentiments that stimulated Gerald Bereford
as his wife was received into society with all the eclat attendant upon
rank, wealth and beauty. Her appearance on several occasions was hailed
with universal delight. Her unassuming manner, childlike disposition and
elegant grace made friends at every footstep. Jealousy found no favor in
the wake of Lady Rosamond. Her presence was sufficient warning to the
green-eyed monster to make hasty retreat.

Lord Bereford took a fond interest in his newly found daughter. He had
always loved Lady Rosamond as his own child. She reminded him of the
lovely sister who shared in his youthful joys. Maria Bereford was the
favorite sister of his early days; her daughter was a tender link in the
chain of memory. Lady Rosamond fully returned the affection borne her by
Lord Bereford. She found a strange relief when sitting by his side
listening to the stories which brought before her vivid conceptions of
her childhood and its happy past never to return--the days when her
heart was free to roam in its wayward and fanciful nights full of ardour
and the bouyant aspirations of unfettered youth.

Gerald Bereford proved indeed a tender and loving husband. His heart was
always ready to upbraid him if he were not ready to meet the slightest
wish of his young wife. Every kindness that could be bestowed on Lady
Rosamond daily suggested itself to the mind of her thoughtful husband.
He was only happy in her presence--she was the sunshine of his heart, of
his life, of his soul. Without Lady Rosamond this world was a blank--a
region "where light never enters, hope never comes." Nor was the fact
unknown to the dutiful and amiable wife. It grieved her deeply to
witness such an exhibition of true love and tenderness without its
receiving equal return. With heroic bravery she endeavored to reward her
husband by little acts of thoughtful kindness greeting his return from
the turmoil of political struggles. Pleasing surprises often met his eye
when least expected. Many pretty trinkets made expressly for his use, by
the fair hands of Lady Rosamond, were placed in careless profusion
around his private apartments. These trifling incidents were an
hundredfold more worth to Gerald Bereford than the most well-timed and
flattering acknowledgments of the many who daily courted his friendship.
Thus did her ladyship strive to make amends to her husband without
having recourse to deceit. She returned his caresses, not with a fervent
love, but with a feeling that such generous love exacted her sympathy.
In the tenderness of her heart some recompense must be made. Would she
ever learn to love her husband as he indeed deserved to be loved? When
would the hour arrive when she could say: "Gerald, I love you with my
entire heart and soul; I live for you alone; none other can possess the
great love I bear for you, my husband." Those questions were frequently
present in the mind of the devoted wife of Gerald Bereford. But he knew
it not. He was in blissful ignorance of the fire within as he fondly
dreamed of the pleasing graces of his lovely wife. He had no reason to
be otherwise than happy.

Lady Rosamond Bereford was above suspicion. She had no desire to possess
popularity outside her own household. The flattery of the opposite sex
was lost upon her. The false smile of base and unprincipled men found no
favor in the sight of her ladyship. She discountenanced many practices
sanctioned by the usages of good society. Virtue was the true criterion
upon which was based her ladyship's judgment.

It is almost needless to add that congratulations reached Lady Rosamond
from the family at Government House in Fredericton. It was not a matter
of surprise to Lady Douglas. She had too much confidence in the
character of her relative to doubt her resolution. Mary Douglas fondly
clung to the hope that her companion would, by some unforeseen power,
avert the threatening blow. She betrayed no astonishment. Though daily
expecting the sickening news of the marriage, the private secretary of
Sir Howard almost staggered under the sudden weight of anxiety which
possessed him when Captain Douglas made the startling disclosure, with
the accompanying remark: "Jove! I always said that Gerald Bereford was a
lucky fellow."

The thoughtful gaze of Mr. Howe as he stood in mute and silent
astonishment, raised a laugh from his companion, with the addition of a
second remark, implying that her ladyship must have made sad havoc upon
the heart of a certain individual, judging from the effect produced by
the announcement of her marriage.

True indeed! Lady Rosamond had made havoc upon the heart and affection
of a _certain individual_, as Captain Douglas roughly remarked, but not
the one to whom he made direct allusion.

The heart that suffered most will be the last to acknowledge. "Heaven
pity poor Trevelyan," murmured Mr. Howe.




CHAPTER XIV.

NEW FRIENDS--THE 81ST--SOCIAL RECREATION.


Fredericton society was now becoming amply compensated for the loss
sustained by the departure of the 52nd Regiment. The gallant Col. Creagh
had become a general favorite. Waterloo, with its bloody scenes and
brilliant victory, was still fresh in his memory. He never wearied in
relating these with fond pride, while his heart was fired with an
enthusiasm that stirred every vein with renewed patriotic impulses. The
gentlemanly conduct that marked the officers of the 81st, soon won the
esteem of the citizens, and placed them on confidential and friendly
terms within a short time after their arrival. Though not distinguished
by the sporting propensities of their predecessors, the general tone of
society received a loftier impetus, social intercourse on a moderate
basis was the general feature of the present. Balls and parties were of
greater importance than the sports of the turf or field. It must not be
inferred the 81st Regiment was quiet and inactive from the facts thus
stated. On the contrary, they were gay, dashing and animated, full of the
vigour and energy of military life; but the comparison affects them not
when we say that the sporting reputation of the 52nd Regiment was
unprecedented in military records. Among those deserving notice was
Jasper Creagh. He was a winning and agreeable youth, displaying much of
the daring and military spirit of his distinguished sire. Many hearts
beat faster when they listened to the manly voice of the young soldier.
Within a very short space of time an intimacy sprang up between the
latter and Lieutenant Trevelyan, who more than sustained the very
flattering reputation forwarded by Major McNair.

Jasper Creagh found much pleasure in the company of his newly made
friend, while the observant Colonel was well pleased by the preference
which showed such judgment on the part of his eldest son.

Frequent allusions were made to the marriage of Lady Rosamond. This
brilliant match had afforded much subject for gossip in the higher
social circles. Lieutenant Trevelyan quietly listened to the earnest
congratulations showered upon this union with apparent interest, often
replying to the inquiries of Jasper Creagh with marked concern. His
secret was unknown, he could brave the matter with heroic fortitude,
while perhaps in after years, time will have effaced those fond
memories. It was a bitter trial, but had he known that hearts more
liable to succumb to the frailties of nature had borne up bravely
against the struggling conflicts of feeling, the thought would have
afforded some relief.

Captain Douglas in his boisterous jocose remarks had unconsciously been
the means of aiming many unerring and merciless shafts at the heart of
the despondent lieutenant. Mr. Howe, on many occasions, would generously
have forced his companion to desist, but the sacrifice would have been
too great. It were better that the secret remain untold even at the
expense of a few such stabs.

In spite of the maneuvering conversational tactics of Mr. Howe,
Captain Douglas could not resist the vein of humor which flowed in
incessant remark upon those with whom it came in contact. "Lady Rosamond
made sad havoc in Fredericton," was his endless theme. "Look at Howe,
judging from the length of his face the matter has assumed a serious
aspect. There is some doubt as to the exact state of Trevelyan's heart.
If the face be taken as an index to the mind, we will pronounce his case
as a milder type of the same disease."

Many like jokes were passed around by the incorrigible Charles Douglas,
but to all Guy Trevelyan was invulnerable. He betrayed no sign of the
inward tempest raging within, save by the almost imperceptible
expression which had attracted the scrutinizing eye of the generous
hearted Mr. Howe.

The band of the 81st was a great source of amusement to the citizens. It
daily furnished music on the Officers' Square, which was entirely free
to every peaceably disposed citizen. Another attractive feature was the
frequent sights of numerous barges rowing up and down the river. The gay
strains of music that floated upon the air, the flutter of
bright-colored pennons, the waving of streamers, bright faces, merry
hearts, and joyous song, made the scene both enjoyable and imposing.
Frequently the excursionists landed on the islands above the city,
enjoying the hours in roaming around the woody precincts, in merry
conversation, outdoor sport, or the pleasure of the dance. Thus did the
citizens spend the greater number of the pleasant summer evenings in the
indebtedness of their military friends.

The band-master stood high in the esteem of all ranks and classes. Mr.
Hoben had indeed succeeded in filling the position occupied by his
predecessor in relation with the Philharmonic Society, sparing no pains
in the instruction of every member.

The above named musical organization had now attained a degree of
proficiency that was manifest on every public appearance.

Mr. Yorke, of whom mention was made on several former occasions, was a
great favorite in musical circles. His taste was consulted on the
arrangement of many programmes intended for public dinners, and such
demonstrations as called forth a ready response from the general public.
The musical abilities of Vivian Yorke were afterwards kept in constant
requisition.

The various schemes pushed forward by Sir Howard Douglas for the
advancement of the welfare of the Province were heartily endorsed by the
people. Steady advances were being made in every pursuit, while that of
agriculture was foremost. Societies were formed with a view to adopt
measures the most favorable for the advancement of a cause to which all
others were secondary in the estimation of Sir Howard. York County
Agricultural Society, at that time, was composed of a body of
influential members, whose places have never since been filled by any
who took such a deep interest in those matters. Such names as those of
the Hon. Messrs. Baillie, Odell, Street, Black, Saunders, Bliss, Peters,
Shore, Minchin, and many others, grace the pages of the yearly reports
issued by the society.

An event occurred about this time which had considerable effect upon the
social atmosphere of Fredericton. The old part of the officers'
barracks, known as the mess-room, was completely destroyed by fire. It
was in the depth of winter, on a very cold night, and many experienced
much exposure and fatigue. The promptness displayed, both by military
and citizens, may still be remembered by some of the older inhabitants.
On this occasion a poor soldier would have been suffocated were it not
for the presence of mind displayed by Mr. Yorke, who, on hearing the
groans of the distressed man, burst in the door and bore him out amid
stifling volumes of smoke and flame.

Much inconvenience arose from the fact of being deprived of comfortable
quarters at such an inclement season; but the citizens soon had the
pleasure of seeing the officers' mess-room of the 81st stationed in the
brick building situated on the corner of Queen and Regent streets, where
they had procured temporary accommodation until another and more
commodious building should be erected on the site of the former. It was
only by such fires that the town of Fredericton succeeded in presenting
a more imposing appearance. Small two-story wooden houses, with smaller
door and windows, occupied Queen street with an air of ease, seeming to
defy progress, and only to be removed by the devouring elements which
occasionally made havoc upon those wooden structures.

The present season was remarkable for the many skating tournaments which
were held upon the ice in the vicinity of Fredericton. Among those who
distinguished themselves were Captain Hansard, an officer retired from
the service, and a young gentleman afterwards known in connection with
the Crown Land Department and later as a member of the Executive
Government, yet an active member of the Legislative Council. The most
astonishing feats were performed during the time thus occupied. The
officers of the 81st were superior skaters, among whom was Major Booth
whose remarkable evolutions gained great notoriety. It is a matter of
question whether the feats of the present day to which our attention is
sometimes directed, could in anywise compete with those of the days of
which we write. Lieutenant Trevelyan had acquired a proficiency in the
art that was worthy of admiration. In this healthy pastime he took
secret delight. It afforded moments when he could steal miles away and
give himself up to those quiet reveries from which the dreamer finds
relief. To a sensitive and poetic mind, what is more enjoyable than the
silent hours of solitude when the soul is revelling in the delights of
idealism; its sweet commune with kindred spirits; its longing and
fanciful aspirations? Who that is not possessed of those precious gifts
of the soul can realize the happiness that Guy Trevelyan derived from
this source? He could, as it were, divest himself of earthy material and
live in the ethereal essence of divine communion. In those flights of
bliss the loved form of Lady Rosamond was ever near. Her presence
hallowed the path whereon he trod. None others invaded the sanctity of
this realm of dreams. One soul was there--one being--alas! to wake in
one realty.

Mary Douglas was at all times a true sympathizer. She always took a deep
interest in her friend Guy. She liked to sit beside him and recall
little scenes wherein Lady Rosamond took part. Her merry ringing laugh
showed the purity of the mind within. Together they spent many hours in
interesting and amusing conversation. Not a thought save that of true
friendship entered the mind of either. From this alone arose the full
confidence alike reposed in each. Mary Douglas was even more beautiful
than Lady Rosamond. Her features were formed as regularly as a model of
an Angelo; her expression might be a life-long study for a DaVinci, a
Rubens, or a Reynolds. Yet such beauty had not power to fan anew the
smouldering fire which consumed the vitality of Lieutenant Trevelyan's
existence. On the other hand this lovely girl saw not in her companion
anything that could create any feeling akin to love. Such was the entire
confidence thus reposed that they were amused at any trifling remarks of
those who daily summed up what evidence supported their conjectures.
Frequently Mr. Howe turned his attention to the affairs of the
unfortunate lieutenant, vainly wishing that such an attachment might be
formed and likewise reciprocated. He was certain of the fact that Guy
Trevelyan was worthy the hand of the most distinguished and beautiful. He
was aware that Sir Howard entertained the highest regard to the son of
his old friend Colonel Trevelyan who, as a baronet and gentleman, had a
reputation worthy his manly son. The arguments advanced by Mr. Howe were
by no means lessened when he wondered if Lady Rosamond could possibly
have gained the secret which possessed Guy Trevelyan. He held too high an
opinion of her ladyship to harbor the thought that she would triumph in
the conquest thus gained on the eve of her marriage with Gerald Bereford.
Ah no! Lady Rosamond could not have known it. So reasoned the thoughtful
secretary.

In the meantime Lady Rosamond is enjoying the constant whirl and gaiety
of London life. Her husband is immersed in the broil of parliamentary
affairs. As a representative of his native borough, he is responsible
for every grievance, real or imaginary, under which his constituents
are daily groaning. The party with whom he was associated was daily
becoming unpopular--a crisis was at hand--a dissolution was expected.
Another appeal to the country would probably take place. Her ladyship
was not a politician; she understood not the measure so proudly
discussed by the wives of statesmen and representatives. Still she could
not but feel a desire to share in the interests of her husband. In the
bustle and turmoil of busy life she felt grateful. Excitement fed her
inquietude; it bore her along upon the breast of the dizzy waves. It was
well that Lady Rosamond was thus occupied. She gave grand and sumptuous
dinner parties, and entertained her guests with balls on a scale of
princely magnificence. Her luncheons were indeed sufficient to cheer the
most despondent and misanthropic. Gaiety in its varied forms
predominated over Lady Rosamond's establishment.

Gerald Bereford was proud of the homage poured at the feet of his
beautiful wife. Her praise was music in his ears. He listened to the
flattering courtesies with childlike pleasure. Her happiness was his.
Often when overcome with the cares and anxiety of public affairs a smile
from her ladyship had a charm like magic. A quiet caress was sure to
arouse him from the deepest apathy.

Lady Rosamond strove hard to repay her doting husband. Every attention
was paid to his wishes. He knew not what it was to suffer the slightest
neglect. Gerald Bereford was happy. His happiness was often the subject
of comment of the associates of his club. His wife's unassuming beauty,
her grace and virtues, attracted many who were solicitous to cultivate
her acquaintance.

"How did you manage to secure such a prize, Bereford? She is the most
beautiful woman in the United Kingdom," exclaimed a gentleman to Gerald
Bereford, after being introduced to Lady Rosamond at a ball given by the
French ambassador, where, without any conscious effort, she had been
pronounced the most attractive amidst a bewildering array of princely
rank, wealth, dignity, youth and beauty.

None could deny the assertion. The rich and elegant black velvet robes
worn by her ladyship displayed the beautiful transparency and form of
her snowy arms and shoulders. Flashing jewels lent a glow to the lovely
face, reflecting their purity and priceless worth.

In the midst of her greatest triumphs Lady Rosamond felt her misery the
most unendurable. Then she experienced the cruel mockeries of the world;
_then_ she felt pangs that the glare and display of wealth must
cover--that the tribute of homage vainly sought to satisfy. At those
moments a picture of never-fading reality would flit before her mental
vision in mocking array--a picture in which her ladyship knelt with
expressive and silent gaze at the feet of the stern monitress, Duty,
whose defiant scowl denies appeal from the speaking depths of the
mournful dark eyes. Two forms are discerned in the background; the
foremost reveals the features of Gerald Bereford casting fond glances
towards the kneeling figure in the foreground. Duty wears a smile as she
beckons his approach with tokens of deep appreciation. There still
lingers another form. Whose can it be? Can we not recognize that face,
though indistinct, in the dim outline? Duty steps between and intercepts
our view. This is the picture from which Lady Rosamond vainly tried to
withdraw her thoughts, repeating the consoling words with saddened
emphasis: "Everything is ordered for the best."




CHAPTER XV.

POLITICAL LIFE.


While Lady Rosamond received the homage of a thousand hearts and plunged
into the ceaseless round of busy life, her husband was engaged as a
fierce combatant in earnest conflicts in the political arena within the
limits of Parliament. Enclosed by vast and wondrous piles of stately
architecture, the champions fight for their respective boroughs with
untiring energy and vehement fiery ardour. The ministry, headed by the
Duke of Wellington, stood much in need of all the force which it could
bring to bear upon the rallying strength of the opposing element. Among
the latter was arrayed Mr. Bereford. His penetrating judgment and shrewd
activity were considered an important acquisition to the ranks of his
colleagues. His masterly and eloquent harangues never failed to force
deep conviction and prove the justice of his principles. Even Lady
Rosamond felt a secret pride in listening to those earnest appeals which
disclosed the honest motives by which they were actuated. Though not
gifted with the brilliant powers displayed in the conversational genius
of those women who had evidently devoted much attention to the study of
politics, her ladyship tried to feel an interest in the measures for
which her husband had devoted many of his waking hours, his superior
intellectual powers, his fond ambition. In this source she seemed to
find a sense of relief. She never flinched when any exaction was
required. If she could make some recompense for such pure and fervent
love, no matter at what cost or sacrifice, gladly would the
conscientious principles of Lady Rosamond accept the terms. Her marked
concern and unremitting attention failed not to elicit admiration from
the Premier, who, despite his stern, disciplined nature, had not
forgotten to pay tribute to the attractions of a beautiful woman. The
Iron Duke indeed showed a decided preference for her ladyship. He was
charmed with the sweet, unassuming, and childlike manner of the young
matron, and took delight in contrasting these with the glaring and
ostentatious demeanor of these high-minded and profound women with whom
he daily mingled.

Lady Rosamond repaid the gallant Duke for such attention. She loved to
engage him in earnest and animated conversation, and watch the fire that
kindled the soul within by the light emitted from the deep flashing eye.
She felt a deep interest in the stern old warrior from the endearing
associations which his memory had woven around her. While in Fredericton
her ladyship had heard many stories in which her friends had also
figured in close relation to the hero of a hundred fights. Sir Howard
Douglas had oftentimes entertained his family circle with a recital of
such scenes. The friend of Sir Howard, Colonel Trevelyan, was also an
actor in the great drama. But the last personage could not possibly
cause any tender interest to the mind of Lady Rosamond.

Gerald Bereford was opposed in principle to the present administration.
He formed one of the strongest leaders of the opposition. His heart was
in the work before him; he would not flinch from the responsibility. His
haggard countenance often gave evidence of the spirit which influenced
his actions; yet he wearied not. A mild reproof from his lovely wife
would for the while have some effect, when he would devote all his
leisure to her comfort and pastime, being fully repaid by the most
simple caress or quiet smile.

Early in the next year an event followed which had a great effect both
on political and social life. His Majesty, George the Fourth, had passed
away from earth. Among those within our acquaintance few there were who
deeply regretted the circumstance.

Lady Rosamond, in writing a friend, said: "We cannot indeed entertain
any lasting regrets for one who inflicted such misery upon one of our
sex. The unfortunate queen and her tragical end inspires me with a
feeling bordering upon hate towards the author. As women we must feel
it, but as women we must forgive."

Thus was the matter viewed by her ladyship, who now looked forward with
happy anticipation to the approaching and brilliant pageantry. The
"Sailor King" sat peacefully on the throne of England. In the days of
her childhood Lady Rosamond loved to climb upon the knee of a handsome
nobleman--in truth a gallant prince. Lovingly did she nestle against his
manly breast with eager, childish confidence, throwing her beautiful
silken ringlets over his shoulders in gleeful pride. Many times had she
kissed the lips of her royal patron, while he playfully designated her
his "White Rose of England." Among the many beautiful trinkets she had
received at his hands none were more valuable or precious than the
jewelled locket bearing the simple inscription "William," appended to a
miniature chain, which she had always worn around her neck in grateful
remembrance. The kind-hearted prince had won the lovely child. Kind
memories can never be obliterated from kind hearts.

Lady Rosamond in after years never forgot the sailor prince of her
childhood days. The old admiral was proud of the attachment thus formed
in his early career. He had entertained towards the generous prince a
warm regard. In naval cruises they were often thrown in company, while
on more than one occasion Sir Thomas had granted leave to obtain the
service of his young friend for a lengthened cruise.

It is not, therefore, a matter of surprise that Lady Rosamond hailed
with rapturous delight the accession of the sailor prince as William the
Fourth of England. Her hopes beat high as she thought of the approaching
ceremony when she would once more be recognized by her old friend. Has
she outgrown his memory? or has he kept her still in view through each
successive stage of life? Many were the speculations formed within the
mind of her ladyship as she made the elaborate preparation necessary for
the intended reception. The day at length arrived. The king and queen
were to receive the nobility of the realm. Dukes, earls, viscounts,
marquises, baronets, with all the titled members of their families, were
to pass in array before the conscious glance and smile of majesty.

The royal reception chamber blazed with dazzling splendour. Titled
courtiers in costly dresses of crimson, purple, and violet velvet,
embroidered in gold, glittering with the many orders upon their breasts,
while the jewelled hilt of the golden scabbards flashed in dazzling rays
of light. These lined the apartment or moved to and fro at the summon of
royalty. Ladies of honor were grouped at respective distances from their
sovereign mistress ready to obey her slightest behest. Their costly
robes, courtly grace, and distinguished appearance, befitted the noble
blood which ran through their veins as proof of their present proud
position. To a stranger the scene was impressive. On first entering the
train of attendants and military display is sufficient to quell the most
stout hearted. Passing along with as much dignity as the person can, he
is announced in loud stentorian tones by the lord chamberlain, who
glances at the card thus presented. Then advancing towards the throne,
kneeling down, kissing the back of His Majesty's hand, and passing along
in the train of his predecessor forms the remaining part of the
ceremony. During this time hundreds will have taken part in these
proceedings, happy in the thought of having received a respectful bow
from the grateful monarch in return for the deep and almost overpowering
embarrassment that possesses the one taking part in those imposing
ceremonies.

The rising blush on Lady Rosamond's cheek showed the excitement that
stirred the depths of her inward feelings. She was carried back to the
happy child days when no shade hovered near; when no bitter concealment
lurked in the recesses of her joyous heart; when her fond plans were
openly discussed before the sailor prince with intense merriment and
glee. Vainly she sighed as she thought of what might have been. Though in
the present the inference was distasteful, her ladyship could not dismiss
the subject. As she stands quietly awaiting her turn in the order of
presentation, let us once more picture the beautiful face and form which
have won our entire sympathy.

Lady Rosamond has lost none of the beauty hitherto depicted in her
charms. She is still lovely as when described while a guest at
Government House. Her cheek has lost none of its roundness; the outline
is full, striking, fresh and interesting; the expressive dark eyes have
lost not their usual brilliancy, save a mournful tenderness that is more
often betrayed than formerly; the lustrous black hair is wantonly
revelling in all the luxuriance of its former beauty. Time nor
experience has not the ruthless power to desecrate such sacred charms.
Lady Rosamond has yet to rejoice in these; she has yet to pluck the
blossoms of happiness springing up from the soil of buried hope where
seeds had been scattered by the unseen hand of Mercy. Well might Gerald
Bereford have been fond of his wife as she approached the "Sailor King,"
in her train of white satin and velvet sparkling with diamonds, with a
grace bespeaking ease, trust and dignified repose. The announcement of
Lady Rosamond Bereford afforded striking proof of the warm-heartedness
of his majesty, showing he did not forget his former white rose of
England. His eagle eye detected the small jewelled gift almost concealed
within the breast of her ladyship, as she lowly bent down to kiss the
hand of her sovereign. A beautiful blush overspread the features of Lady
Rosamond as she felt the directed gaze. "Your ladyship has not forgotten
the sharer of her childhood joys," exclaimed His Majesty with expressive
smile.

A deep blush succeeded when the kneeling suppliant recovered sufficient
self-possession to reply. "Your Majesty will pardon this occasion to
acknowledge the great honor conferred by this tender allusion to a loving
and loyal subject."

In her blushing loveliness, Lady Rosamond received a fragrant and
beautiful white rose from the hand of her liege sovereign as expressive
of the desired continuation of his former regard and endearment. This
was truly a remarkable moment in the life of her ladyship. She felt the
true force and depth of friendship. If the favor of her monarch could
give happiness, would she not exercise a large monopoly? Yet there was
happiness enjoined in the ceremony. His Majesty was happy to meet his
former friend and companion. Her Majesty the Queen was happy to find one
in whom her husband found so much to admire. Gerald Bereford was truly
happy in having such royal favour extended towards the lovely being upon
whom he lavished his fond love.

These circumstances gave some relief to lady Rosamond and taught her
many lessons through suffering to which she could return with thankful
gratitude for the bitter trials so heavily imposed. Sometimes a feeling
of remorse took possession of her ladyship as she looked upon the face
of her husband and fancied that there rested a yearning, wistful look, a
lingering for her truer sympathy. She sometimes felt that her husband
also cherished his vain regrets, his moments of bitter conflicts when he
tried to smother the unbidden thoughts that would thus arise. These
fancies often roused Lady Rosamond to a sense of her duty with wholesome
effect.

This mark of royal favor was not lost upon Lady Rosamond. Her Majesty
expressed a wish to receive the king's favorite among the ladies of her
household. But the tearful eyes of the beautiful matron forbade any
further mention. The German propensities of Queen Adelaide would not
force any measure thus proposed. Lady Rosamond had full access to the
royal household, receiving the confidence of her royal patroness with
true grace.

Now began the struggle for Reform in the Parliament. Throughout the
kingdom arose the cry of Reform which had been echoed from the second
French revolution. Among all classes arose the war note of Reform. It
sounded loud and high. It was borne over the continent. Nothing but
Reform. Reform of the House of Commons was the subject discussed at
every fireside.

Affairs had now reached a political crisis. The Duke of Wellington, with
his unrestrained and high-bred principles of conservatism, could not
brook such an innovation upon the time-honored laws and customs of the
British constitution. He could not favor a faction that would
countenance the spoliation of England's hitherto undimmed greatness and
national pride. Hence arose a new ministry under the united leadership
of Earl Grey and Lord John Russell. In Gerald Bereford the supporters of
the Reform measure found a zealous adherent. He seemed to lay aside
every other consideration in advancing the scheme which lay so near his
heart. Lengthy and private consultations were held between the latter
and his sincere friend and adviser, Earl Grey. Days and nights were
passed in fierce and endless controversy in the House of Commons.

This was the only point in which Lady Rosamond failed to convince her
husband of the injury sustained by such constant turmoil and anxiety
involved in these measures. When she quietly endeavored to reason upon
such a course of conduct he smilingly replied: "My darling, duty calls
me and you would not see me inactive when the demand is so imperative?
Surely my beautiful rose would not like to have the breath of slander
attached to her husband as guilty of cowardice or desertion from the
ranks of his party? Ah, no, my darling," cried the earnest politician,
preventing his wife's retort with the tender kisses of a true and ardent
love. It did indeed seem strange that the more earnestly Lady Rosamond
pleaded with her husband the more firmly did he resist, and, if
possible, the more ardent he became in his attention. Lady Rosamond felt
a strange and unaccountable desire to interfere with the plans laid down
by Gerald Bereford. Many times she urged upon Earl Grey the necessity of
moderation, and, with a vehemence foreign to her nature, strove to
impress him with prophetic visions of anxiety, doubt, and fear. Her
ladyship was somewhat reconciled by the resignation of the Premier, who,
in his joking manner, attributed his want of success to the hostile
attitude of the wife of his friend, Gerald Bereford.

But the conflict was kept up with renewed energy. The Reform party were
not to be thus easily outwitted. They were still sanguine. During the
period when the ministry vacillated between the Conservatives and Whigs,
the spirits of the latter never drooped. Victory was the watchword that
attached itself to the Reform party. Victory was the cry of Gerald
Bereford as he labored day and night with untiring zeal, utterly
regardless of the ravages thus made upon his hitherto robust
constitution. In this exciting struggle the young politician was
unconscious of the deadly and venomous growth taking root within
under the baneful effect of negligence and over-taxed powers.




CHAPTER XVI.

NEW BRUNSWICK.


The capital of New Brunswick was the scene of more than usual
excitement. Extensive preparations throughout the higher classes of
society indicated that some very important event or events were about to
take place. Extravagant purchases made in the several stores where were
displayed dry goods, intimated that the fair sex looked forward to the
approaching festivity with intense and joyous anticipation.

New-year's eve has arrived. Happiness expresses itself in rippling
smiles beaming upon all faces. Every citizen has cause for rejoicing.
The commodious structure planned under the supervision of His
Excellency, Sir Howard Douglas, is now ready for the reception of a
numerous assemblage of guests. The family are reinstated in Government
House, happy in being once more able to extend their far-famed
hospitality as on former occasions.

Nothing was wanting to make the present reception one of the most
gorgeous in the social records of provincial life. Every window in the
entire building was brilliantly illuminated in the most beautiful colors
of every hue and in a charming variety of scenes. There were represented
the western heavens at sunset in crimson and gold; the rising glories of
the approaching monarch shown on the eastern hill tops; scenes of
classical beauty shone in bewitching effect. Any attempt to
particularize fails in the very effort. Suffice to say Government House
blazed, not in the spontaneous spirit which displayed itself when the
former building succumbed, but by the heightening aid of artistic skill
and design. From a distance the sight was truly beautiful. Many gazed
with unwearied eyes anxious to behold a view which might never again be
afforded them. The incessant peals of merry sleigh bells seemed to
harmonize with the merriment and gaiety of the guests as they hurried to
their destination. The array of rank, wealth, youth and beauty thus
assembled are never again to be realized. Every colony in His Majesty's
domains in America was represented. Every one holding high rank or title
was present. Lady Douglas with kindling eye glanced through the
different rooms and pronounced the affair a decided success.

Mary Douglas experienced a feeling of sadness while drawing a comparison
between the present occasion and one in which Lady Rosamond was an
honored guest. She could not but feel a deep yearning towards her old
friend--a fond and tender longing to embrace the beautiful Lady Rosamond
Bereford.

The drawing-rooms reflected credit upon those who assisted in the
decorations. Brilliant colors, banners, emblems, mottoes, flags,
pennons, and coats of arms were intermingled with an eye to harmony and
graceful effect.

The military precedence on every hand shewed the spirit which influenced
Sir Howard and his distinguished family. Nearly all the gentlemen of the
household were distinguished by their uniform. Every attendant was in
uniform. Soldiers lined the grounds; soldiers kept hourly patrol;
soldiers executed every command. The social atmosphere of Government
House breathed of a true soldier-like element. The ladies felt its
influence as they took delight in listening to the chequered scenes
amidst the lives of the many veterans who sat at their table.

The 81st now graced the evening by a numerous body of officers with the
gallant Colonel Creagh foremost in the assembly. The genial countenance
of the old veteran, his sparkling eye and animated gestures found ready
entrance into many hearts. Conspicuous were Jasper Creagh, now attached
to the regiment as holding a lieutenant's commission, and his friend
Trevelyan, now promoted to the rank of Captain, and still enjoying the
unbounded good will and confidence of superiors and inferiors.

The faithful secretary still sustained his former resources for
enjoyment and festivity. He had made himself agreeable to many fair
ladies, acting the part of a gallant attendant, but his heart remained
unimpressed, often a source of keen enjoyment to Captain Douglas, who
vainly tried to captivate his friend in many ways. Mr. Howe was a
distinguished and fine-looking gentleman, remarkably tall and straight,
while the keen glance of his dark eye was sufficient to convince one of
the powers of penetration forming such weighty proportion in the make-up
of his character. His olive skin formed a pleasing contrast to the pearl
white complexion of the beautiful daughter of the household, as they
mingled together in the dance. The sparkle of that lovely eye was enough
to drive the adoring suitors to distraction, yet Mary Douglas coolly
withstood their ardent gaze. Dance and song mingle in successive round.
Youth and age alike join in the fairy scene. Arch glances pass from
courtly cavaliers to beautiful maidens who "blush at the praise of their
own loveliness." The rustle of silken draperies sound to the ear as
unseen music at the hand of the warbling genii. Robes of spotless purity
and gossamer texture flit around, keeping time to the merry ringing
silvery peals of girlish merriment. Such are the scenes that greet the
eye and ear in roaming amid the gay throng at Government House,
Fredericton, on the New Year's Eve of 1828.

It would be a difficult task to make particular mention of the
aristocratic matrons; still it would be a great injustice to pass over a
matter of so much importance. In fact, by some, the married ladies bore
off the palm for beauty and intelligence. Of a certainty the comparison
excepted the ladies of Government House, there being none who could
compete with Mary Douglas, her beauty being of a superior type.

At the ball a married lady of rank wore diamonds valued at a cost
seeming fabulous. Others followed in the wake of such extravagance by
wearing necklaces, bracelets, head-dresses, ear-rings, and brooches, in
almost unlimited profusion. Add to this the magnificent array of Sir
Howard's supper table, its glittering plate in massive style, its
enormous chandeliers, its countless train of liveried attendants, and
you can then only form a very faint conception of the first ball given
in the present Government House, nearly half a century in the past!

Truly this was the chivalric age in the history of the capital of New
Brunswick--the age when proud knighthood was the ruling passion in the
breasts of the sterner sex, when true heroic bravery was the quality
which won the maiden fair, when the breath of slander could not be
tolerated without calling forth a brave champion on behalf of the
wronged. This is the age that has passed away never to return. Progress
and Reform are the two great powers combined to crush out all traces of
those by-gone days. In united action they ruthlessly wipe out every
vestige or lingering relics of past greatness. Nothing must stand in
opposition to their will. Reform suggests, Progress acts--Reform
suggests the removal of all old landmarks--Progress assists in the
accomplishment. By such means, and through successive stages, did those
days pass away, now to be reviewed, as a beautiful dream of the past.

Leaving this point we will proceed with the facts of the story.

The day following marked an event of much greater importance than that
of the preceding evening--it was important to all--all classes were
afterwards to be benefited by the great boon thus conferred on the
people of New Brunswick. Every parish and county had reason afterwards
to rejoice in the great work of this auspicious moment.

On New year's day of this year was opened the College at Fredericton.
The Charter had been procured by Sir Howard after having withstood a
storm of violent opposition, under which an ordinary spirit would have
sunk in hopeless despondency; but the iron will and calm judgment of the
wise statesman and ruler had outlived the fury of the opposing element,
who now reaped the reward of his indefatigable labors by the
accomplishment of the great work.

The king showed his sanction by conferring upon this Institution the
name of "King's College, New Brunswick," while to Sir Howard he assigned
the honor of being its first chancellor, in acknowledgment of the great
service thus rendered to the cause.

In this office His Excellency was duly installed on the present
occasion. Divine service was performed as the first ceremony. The
professors and students were in their places. Members of the legislature
and the royal council occupied seats, while the public thronged the
building to the utmost capacity.

Great and heartfelt was the burst of applause that greeted Sir Howard as
he took his place: greater still, when he announced the intention of the
king in conferring his name upon the College. The expressive features,
high, broad intellectual forehead, earnest eye, benign countenance and
honest smile perhaps were never more significant of the earnestness that
pervaded every thought and action of the gentleman, scholar, and
soldier, as when he uttered sentiments which shall be cherished through
after ages, so long as King's College shall remain a monument to the
memory of the best and greatest man that ever trod the soil of New
Brunswick.

Let us make use of his own words: "I shall leave with the College," he
said, "I trust, for ever a token of my regard and best wishes. It shall
be prepared in a form and devoted to an object which I hope may prove a
useful incitement to virtue and learning; and at periodical
commemorations of the commencement it may serve to remind you of the
share which I have had in the institutions and proceedings of a day
which I shall never forget."

Nor did this friend of education ever forget his promise. The Douglas
Gold Medal is still competed for though many years have rolled between
the time when the first and last were presented. The distinguished donor
has passed away, but his pledge remains. Memory fondly clings around the
deeds of Sir Howard and throws over them a halo of light that will shine
with increasing splendor as time lengthens the distance between.

The boundary question still assumed a troubled and unsettled state. Many
complaints were laid before his Excellency, but he calmly resolved to
grant no concessions. He treated every messenger with polite firmness.
Congratulations poured in from the Governor General from Canada and the
British Minister at Washington, regarding the cleverness and ability
displayed on the occasion. At last it became evident that no direct
conciliation could be effected between the disputants. Another course
must be adopted. An arrangement was agreed upon between the English and
Americans that the matter be left to arbitration, to the decision of the
king of the Netherlands. In such knowledge the people felt and saw a
common dread, a common anxiety, a gloomy foreboding. Such knowledge
brought the painful idea of separation. Sir Howard was appointed to
prepare the case for presentation. His presence was imperative in
England. A heavy blow fell like a death knell on the future hopes of the
colonists. Their true friend, sympathizer and ruler was about to take
leave. Many mourned his departure as that of a father or brother. Their
friend in prosperity and dire adversity; he who had struggled with the
calamities and worked for the advancement of his people, their interests
and direct benefits, was now to embark for his native land.

Regret was depicted on every face as the colonists moved in large bodies
to return grateful recognition for the zealous labors spent in their
behalf. Every society took active measures in showing their mingled
regret. Tears rained thick and fast as many old friends grasped the hand
of Sir Howard, murmuring a last God bless you. The kind-hearted soldier
could not but feel deeply when he witnessed such hearty demonstrations,
yet he had hopes of returning to New Brunswick. He cheered the people
with such remarks and strove to make the least of the matter.

Nor was the family of Sir Howard less to be regretted. Their kind
hospitality, generous hearts, and unassuming dispositions, had made many
friends in Fredericton and throughout the Province.

Lady Douglas strove to conceal her regret with many well-timed remarks.
Mary Douglas lovingly lingered among the well-remembered walks and paths
where she had spent peaceful and happy days. The lovely spring-time
which she had looked forward to, with its songs of birds, bright
sunshine, lovely flowers, and green fields, had come again, but not for
her enjoyment. Other ears would listen to the warbling songster--other
forms would sit in her accustomed seats and enjoy the pleasing
sunshine--other hands would pluck the lonely flowers blooming in beauty
all around--other footsteps would roam over the soft green grass that
gently raised its head as she tripped lightly along in former years.
_These_ were the friends of Mary Douglas, truly the child of nature.
Birds, flowers, fields, sunshine, rain, and storm, were the constant
companions of the gifted and beautiful student. The warble of the birds
was to her of more worth than the most bewitching strains of an English
opera; flowers taught lessons more inspiring and sublime than the most
profound theological discussion. Verdant fields and bright sunshine were
constant reminders of Heaven's choicest blessings and never-failing
truth, while the stormy conflicts of nature's elements taught the heart a
wholesome lesson in the thought that life has its changing moods, its
bitter conflicts, its merciless storms.

Sad was the heart of the dreamer as she wandered for the last time amid
these never-to-be-forgotten haunts. Tears dimmed her lovely eyes and
trickled down her cheeks. The scene was too sacred for other eyes. She
had started off alone, wishing to pay the last tribute of respect to her
silent friends in a manner becoming the solemnity of the occasion.

We leave Mary Douglas in her sylvan retreat and follow other members of
the family in their tender leave-taking.

Miss Douglas echoes the same spirit as her sister, but with less poetic
eloquence and fervent inspiration. She looks upon the faces of many dear
young friends and feels a deep pang of sorrow as their tears mingle with
her own. John Douglas, no longer a mischievous, romping, and noisy boy,
but an engaging and attractive young gentleman, ready to enter the army,
takes a hearty leave of his former schoolmates and companions with
sincere regret, bearing with him their united wishes for his future
welfare and success in life.

It would be an endless task to enumerate the bitter repinings and tender
leave-taking between each member of the family, and the numerous hosts
of sincere friends who pressed around them, eager to wish God speed on
the journey. Suffice to say, amid the last parting word, the last
pressure of the hand, and the last fond embrace, the beloved family of
Sir Howard Douglas took their last glimpse of Fredericton, dimmed by
their fast falling tears, as the steamer slowly passed from the wharf,
whence issued the plaintive strains of "Auld Lang Syne," to be borne
ever after in the memory of those who listened to the last parting
tribute wafted from the shores of Fredericton.




CHAPTER XVII.

REGRETS.


Though most of those in whom we have taken such deep interest have left
the Province far behind, we cannot bear the thought of following them
until more fond ties be broken that binds them to our native home. Ah!
were we to consider every fond tie, there could be no hope for
separation. There are ties which bind the heart as lovingly as those of
friendship, there are ties which cling while we breath the inspiration
of every page within the universal volumes of Heaven's choicest
productions--the great book of nature--the teacher and refiner of the
soul. This is the tie which clings to us through the medium of holy
thought, inspiring, elevating and cheering.

Among those who most deeply felt the departure of the inmates of
Government House, none were more reserved in their demonstrations than
Captain Trevelyan, who calmly watched each successive step in the order
of preparation with a quiet reserve that to the uninitiated would appear
as void of feeling.

But the brave and handsome officer showed not the fathomless depths and
feelings of his true heart, which throbbed with a renewed emotion. With
a sense of utter loneliness he lamented the bitter misfortune which had
been his attendant since he had left the peaceful home of his
fatherland. Mary Douglas, his kind friend and companion, had been as a
gentle and loving sister to raise for a time his flagging spirits. Mr.
Howe had ever been at his side to show unceasing acts of kindness and
brighten those dark hours with a tender but inexpressive sympathy.
Captain Trevelyan could never forget the motives which actuated these,
still he did not exhibit any outward show of gratitude save by a firm
and passive confidence.

Knowing the true nature of such friendship, Mr. Howe would have
experienced deeper regret at parting were he not aware that he would
meet Captain Trevelyan early in the following year.

Left to the undisturbed quiet of his own thoughts, Captain Trevelyan
formed many plans regarding his future career. A work was steadily going
on within while he attended the duties devolving upon him in connection
with his military life.

It had always been the true aim of this soldier to discharge his labors
faithfully and with a desire to please. His genial nature and generous
heart gained the popularity of the entire regiment. Not only did he
treat his superior officers with profound respect but his inferiors as
well. Every subordinate officer and private loved to meet his friendly
smile. Every one vied in doing some act that would receive his
approbation. Truly did Colonel Creagh make the following remark to a
distinguished General, who was inspecting the troops: "If ever man were
born who possessed not a single enemy, I believe that man is Captain
Trevelyan."

"I believe you," returned the General, "goodness is stamped upon his
handsome face, but seldom is it so clearly defined as to insure such
general approval."

"Sometimes," added the Colonel, "I have doubts regarding the serious
intentions of our friend. It has been whispered that he begins to weary
of the service. I have not had sufficient reason to confirm the truth of
the statement, but I shall feel much dissatisfied if it prove correct.
Sir Howard Douglas always maintained that Trevelyan is a scion of the
old stock, that he possesses the same qualities that distinguished his
father. It would indeed be a source of regret were all to be
disappointed by his retirement," said the Colonel, in a tone of deep
earnestness.

"If the family resources are large he may have sufficient reason for
such an act," ventured the General interrogatively.

"Sir Guy Trevelyan," said the Colonel, by way of explanation, "owns a
fine old estate in Hampshire, which yields a moderate income. His only
son will be his direct heir, and Captain Trevelyan can at any
opportunity enjoy the ease and retirement of private life."

"I should not be surprised were he to avail himself of the departure of
the regiment," exclaimed the general, adding, "there is not much
distinction now to be gained in the service. Captain Trevelyan might
remain an honorable officer in His Majesty's service for years to come
and not attain the position marked out by his distinguished parent."

Many remarks were thus applied to this officer by the gallant colonel of
the 81st Regiment. Every sentence showed not only the high esteem in
which Captain Trevelyan was held by the veteran of Waterloo, but the
fears entertained by the latter in regard to his rumoured retirement.

Not long after the above conversation took place Fredericton was to
witness another departure--the gallant 81st, under orders, were to be
relieved by the 1st Battalion of the Rifle Brigade. The same formalities
of interchanging regrets were to be passed between those departing and
the citizens. The same congratulations were to be presented in
appreciation of the high esteem entertained towards the entire regiment
in the presentation of testimonials and other marks of respect.

The morning preceding the departure of the company to which Captain
Trevelyan was attached, afterwards formed an important one in his life.
Colonel Creagh's fears were realized by intimation from Captain Trevelyan
with intention to make application for a discharge immediately on his
arrival in England.

After long and grave deliberation he had fully made up his mind, while a
letter received from his sister gave twofold assurance of the great
delight which such news communicated to the family.

As this young girl will now be introduced to the reader, we take the
liberty of inserting the letter, showing the tenderness of feeling
existing between the brother and sister, the fond anticipation breathed
through every sentence, and the deep interest manifested in the friends
of the absent one.

Frequently did Guy Trevelyan re-open the envelope and bring forth the
precious missive, written in a delicate feminine hand, containing the
following:--

     Trevelyan Hall, near Winchester, Sept. 19th, 1830.

     _Dear Brother Guy_,--

     Your fond letter of the 20th was received in due time, conveying
     the most delightful news that ever was written. How can I await
     your dear presence? Really it seems almost too much happiness to
     realize that you will once more return home to remain. Papa writes
     that he warmly approves of your decision, intimating that I must
     have been instrumental in procuring such good fortune for us all. I
     dare not dream too fondly lest by some means I may be disappointed;
     but, dearest Guy, once restored to us, our delight will be
     unbounded.

     You must not expect to have a very long letter this time, as I
     cannot settle my thoughts to think of aught but yourself and "The
     Restoration." If the second be not of such universal display as the
     one so grandly portrayed in history, it is doubtful whether the
     sincerity attending the latter be not of a more lasting nature and
     one showing the true affections of loyal and devoted hearts.

     I had almost forgotten to mention that I have frequently met Mary
     Douglas, who is, at present, visiting her friend Maude Bereford, at
     the Castle. Also, had the pleasure of being introduced to your
     friend Mr. Howe, and feel a deep interest in him on your behalf.
     Imagine my delight when he informed me of his intention to accept
     your invitation to remain with us for a few days on your arrival.
     It seems that I cannot remember anything. I must not forget this
     time to say that great anxiety is expressed and felt at the Castle
     regarding the failing health of Lady Rosamond's husband--Mr. Gerald
     Bereford. For some time past he has sadly impaired his constitution
     by taxing his powers beyond endurance, and when almost too late, he
     withdrew from political life. Great sympathy is extended Lady
     Rosamond who seems very despondent. Medical advice suggests change
     of climate, and I have heard that they intend to spend the winter
     in Italy. Not wishing to give any more news until I see you at
     home, dear Guy, and having nothing further to add but our love,

     I remain your expectant

     Fanny.

Fanny Trevelyan's letter had a double effect upon the mind of the
recipient. It involved both happiness and despondent gloom, and
unconsciously had struck a tender chord which vibrated with redoubled
sadness in its deep sympathy.

Why do the waking echoes of the past take cruel delight in presenting to
the mind visions which otherwise would be laid aside in a retired recess
or a secret chamber sacred to the relics of other days and other scenes?
Why are those realities to present themselves in merciless and mocking
array to gloat upon our sufferings with fiendish delight? These are
questions only to be answered when the causes which call them forth have
ceased to exist.

Captain Trevelyan's retirement was the subject of much concern for the
officers and men. Many discussions arose as to the motive. Lieutenant
Creagh remonstrated, but to no purpose. As the slow sailing ship bore
the gallant regiment across the Atlantic, hope reigned supreme in many
hearts. Friends and home greeted them on arrival. At Gosport, Captain
Trevelyan took formal leave, having received the strongest proofs of
sincere friendship existing between man and his fellowbeings.

Great was the joy that awaited Guy Trevelyan as he once more entered the
fine old park enclosing the grounds of "Trevelyan Hall." His mother, a
staid and stately English matron, forgot all dignity as she threw
herself fondly into his arms. Fanny, the pet of the household, clung to
her brother with tightening embrace, showering him with kisses pure as
her maiden heart. Nor was the dutiful son less tender in his expressions
of joy, as lovingly he gazed upon the fair girl seated with her arm upon
his shoulder. He could scarcely realize that the little girl of twelve
was now the lovely maiden of eighteen almost matured into a gentle and
loveable woman. In her sweet childish manner Guy Trevelyan found much to
admire. The firm, steady gaze of her deep blue eyes had a power to rivet
the attention of the beholder, that puzzled him. He knew from the calm
and earnest tenor of his sister's manner that her heart was unfettered
by any deeper attachment than those of family ties. In the bitterness of
his feelings he thanked Heaven for this fond assurance, fervently
praying that the love of his pet sister would never be given where it
would never be returned.

He now listened with eager curiosity to the affairs of Lady Rosamond.
Her husband had indeed, when too late, listened to her urgent
admonitions. He had resigned his seat in parliament when his physical
powers were a mere wreck of his former self. Disease had crept in by
stealth and was only too truly realized by the deep ravages thus
made--by the wasted and emaciated form--the feverish cheek and sunken
eye.

The noble sympathetic nature of the dutiful wife felt a severe shock as
she daily was brought face to face with the dreaded fact--the awakening
reality of her husband's condition. Every care that could be bestowed by
the hand of woman was lavished upon Gerald Bereford with unceasing and
untiring devotion. No duty was too troublesome, no wish was slighted,
except that which urged her ladyship to be more attentive to her
personal wants. Every sacrifice must be made that can possibly give
returning health and strength to the future lord of Bereford Castle. No
bitter repinings now possessed the heroic woman. Her whole being was
thrown into the scale to balance the opposing weight which crushed her
husband's almost lifeless existence. The voice of one who repeatedly
made the halls of parliament ring with deafening applause was now with
an effort heard by those standing near.

It was when such trouble bore heavily that Mary Douglas opened her heart
towards her friend Lady Rosamond. She came unbidden to offer such
service as was in her power to perform. She silently watched by the side
of Gerald Bereford with that gentle caution so needful when suffering is
apparent, or when an interval of pain or depression is to be guarded
against as a thief in disguise.

Not a single expression ever passed between those friends with reference
to any thing that happened in Fredericton. Mary Douglas was careful to
avoid any allusion to circumstances which might call up a sudden host of
by-gone fancies which, ere this, should be consigned to the remotest
regions in the realm of utter oblivion. She was now the friend and
sympathizer of Lady Rosamond Bereford, not the childish maiden as when
first introduced, but a lovely, gifted, talented and accomplished woman,
whose mind matured with her years. Time has not lain heavily on her
hands, she having labored assiduously in exercising those talents
committed to her keeping. In after years we find the following: "Her
gifts were so varied that she was both a composer and musician, a
novelist and poet." The friend of Lady Rosamond Bereford was not to be
affected by the emotions of Lady Rosamond Seymour. The past was a sealed
casket, forever sacred to the intrusion of the present. This was the
state of feeling that existed between those noble women as they
ministered to the wants of Gerald Bereford.

What fervent prayers were offered for the dutiful and self-sacrificing
wife as she tried to win a smile from the patient invalid. What grateful
love went forth to her as she pressed the lips of her uncomplaining
husband. In sickness as in health she had never seen his frown. His life
had been a constant source of happiness. Lady Rosamond had been the
day-star which illuminated his path with undimmed lustre and brilliancy.
In her presence he felt not the weight of suffering that at intervals
seized his exhausted frame. As symptoms of the disease began to abate
and recovery was expected, her ladyship, accompanied her husband to
Italy, where they had intended to remove some time previous, but were
prevented by a relapse of the invalid.




CHAPTER XVIII.

SIR HOWARD DOUGLAS.


In order to follow up the brilliant career of this great man while
connected with the administration of New Brunswick, we will endeavor to
give a few facts to prove the marvellous ability he displayed in
carrying out his plans.

On the passage homeward Sir Howard and family encountered many dangers.
During the whole voyage there was kept up a constant gale, sometimes
threatening the destruction of the rudely constructed brig of war named
the _Mutine_. Amidst these daily mishaps and perilous exposures the
Douglas family maintained the utmost self-possession. Sir Howard was
always ready to offer advice and assistance with a coolness that nerved
the whole crew, and gave fresh hopes at the darkest moments. During the
six weeks that elapsed, while braving the dangers of the deep, Mary
Douglas never lost an opportunity to make the most of the occasion. She
became interested in the stormy elements, learning lessons that served
her to breast the struggling conflicts of life. Observation was largely
developed in the mind of the gifted maiden. Nothing was presented to her
eye that did not afford food for study and reflection.

The joy with which they were received in England was boundless. Friends
gathered around with heartfelt demonstrations. Sir Howard was once more
surrounded by many of his former companions. The Duke of Wellington gave
him a hearty welcome, while statesmen could scarcely refrain emotion on
beholding one who had taken such deep interest in the welfare of the
nation and showed such firmness and decision in the boundary question.
But another more distinguished honor awaited him. The University of
Oxford were ready to recognize such greatness by conferring the degree
of D. C. L. Sir Howard was called upon to be present at the
commemoration of 1829, where crowds jostled each other to get a glimpse
of this honored man. Patriotism has been, throughout history, the
leading spirit governing the Universities of Great Britain and the
present occasion proved no exception. Students were animated by the
presence of a true patriot. Cheer upon cheer greeted the announcement of
Sir Howard. Applause was boundless as he received presentation from the
public orator. That the spirit which prompted such action on the part of
this dignified body may be seen, we insert the following oration, taken
from the life of Sir Howard Douglas:

     _Most illustrious Vice-Chancellor, and you, learned Doctors_,

     I present to you a distinguished man, adorned with many virtues and
     honors, belonging to military and civil affairs, as well as to
     literature--Howard, a Knight and Baronet, a worthy heir of the
     latter order from a renowned father, the former richly deserved
     from his own king and that of Spain; a member of the Royal Society
     of London, on account of the fame of his writings; for many years
     the Governor of New Brunswick, followed by the admiration and favor
     of his country and the reverence and love of the Province; lastly,
     Chancellor of a College in that Province, built under his care and
     direction, to which its patron, the king, gave his name and a
     University's privileges. Behold the man! I now present him to you
     that he may be admitted to the degree of a Doctor of Civil Laws for
     the sake of honor.

Further comment upon the above is unnecessary, it being sufficient to
convince one of the degree of popularity which Sir Howard had attained.

The next place in which he plays a most conspicuous part is in the
presence of royalty at the Dutch court, where he was received with all
the honors his rank, position and claim demanded. His Majesty entered in
a lengthy and earnest conversation regarding the important question now
to be settled by his decision. Sir Howard stated clearly every
circumstance in connection with the affair from beginning to end. To
every question he gave a prompt reply, showing the clearness of judgment
by which every argument had been maintained. In order to explain why
such a question should be brought up forty-seven years after the treaty
had been signed, he showed that it was founded on some indefinite or
ambiguous clauses of the treaty of 1783, but not proposed until 1820.
Here was a delicate point for His Majesty to settle without giving
offence to either English or Americans. But Sir Howard was resolved to
support the claim which contended for the rights of his nation--for
justice and for truth. He was not desiring territory, but protection and
security to the interests of his people, _security_ to prevent the
Americans from claiming the privileges of the St. John river or
classifying the Bay of Fundy rivers with those emptying into the
Atlantic. However, a decision at length was given which did not meet the
wishes of either party, but the matter was set partially at rest.

Soon afterwards Sir Howard was engaged in discussing the cause and
events of the Belgian insurrection. He showed to the British Government
the design which France had contrived to her aggrandizement by the
dissolution of the Netherlands, and urged intervention on the part of
the British Government. The measures taken in determining the strength
of the Dutch territory and the trouble thus averted which must have
involved war and bloodshed, secured the hearty thanks of the English
monarch who acknowledged the debt of gratitude in terms of deep
sincerity.

The colonists were now awaiting Sir Howard's return with great anxiety,
watching his movements with deep concern. Hope once more filled their
hearts as news spread abroad that their ruler was making preparations to
return to New Brunswick. But a new source of uneasiness arose. The Home
Government raised a question abolishing the protection on colonial
timber. Sir Howard was aroused to a sense of the situation. By the
abolition of such protection the trade of New Brunswick and the other
colonies would be ruined, while the Baltic trade would reap the benefit.
Was he to tamely submit to measures injuring the resources of the people
whom he represented? No, he would appeal in a manner that would have
public sympathy. Hence was produced the well written pamphlet bearing
his name, setting forth the grievance in a way that could not fail to
prove the justice of the cause. Every point was discussed with clearness
and based upon the most reliable facts and statistics. Newspapers took
up the subject and complimented the author in the most flattering terms.

A general excitement was now raised and the question was discussed on
every side. In the House of Commons it gained much popularity. Great was
the joy of Sir Howard when the result of his work was announced by the
defeat of the government. This proved the patriotism of Sir Howard. He
could not sacrifice the interest of his country to those of himself and
family. He purchased his country's welfare with the resignation of the
governorship of New Brunswick!

Where do we find such true nobility of character, such brilliant genius,
and such unsullied virtue? Well might the Colonists have exclaimed with
one voice when tidings conveyed the news of Sir Howard's resignation:

    "He was a man, take him for all in all,
     We shall not look upon his like again."

However, some recognition must be made to show their gratitude to one
who had made such a sacrifice. Meetings were held in different parts of
the Province resulting in a general subscription towards the purchase of
a valuable service of plate which was presented him in England,
accompanied by an address, breathing the spirit of heartfelt regret at
the loss of their much beloved ruler. Sir Howard never forgot this
circumstance. He often referred to his stay in New Brunswick with
feelings bordering on emotion. Years afterwards his heart beat with
quickening impulse as he fondly recognized the familiar face of a
colonist or received some cheering account of the welfare of the people.
Through the remaining years of his life he never ceased to keep up a
faithful correspondence with several of his former friends, particularly
the Rev. Edwin Jacob, D. D., who received the presidency of King's
College through his kind patron,--the tie of friendship which bound them
was only severed by death.

Much more might be said regarding this great man, but we must now leave
him to the active duties of a busy and useful life, surrounded by his
family in the comforts of an English home and enjoying the true
friendship of the philosopher, the historian, and the poet. Among the
most intimate in this list was Sir Walter Scott--the friend of Mrs.
Bailie, the foster mother of Sir Howard. Doubtless the name of Douglas
was sufficient to awaken in the mind of the Scottish bard a feeling
worthy of the friendship of Sir Howard. Together they spent many hours
in conversing upon the scenes which had formed subjects for the poet's
pen and awakened a deep veneration for the legends of Scottish lore.
Perhaps in no other way can we better pay a parting tribute to the
memory of Sir Howard Douglas than by inserting the following letter
which had been forwarded when the latter had arrived from New Brunswick:

     "Abbotsford, Near Melrose, 21st July, 1829.

     "_My Dear Sir Howard_,--

     "I have just received your most welcome letter and write to
     express my earnest wish and hope that, as I have for the present no
     Edinburgh establishment, you will, for the sake of auld lang syne,
     give me the pleasure of seeing you here for as much time as you can
     spare me. There are some things worth looking at, and we have
     surely old friends and old stories enough to talk over. We are just
     thirty-two miles from Edinburgh. Two or three public coaches pass
     us within a mile, and I will take care to have a carriage meet you
     at Melrose Brigley End, if you prefer that way of travelling. Who
     can tell whether we may ever, in such different paths of life, have
     so good an opportunity of meeting? I see no danger of being absent
     from this place, but you drop me a line if you can be with us,
     and take it for granted you hardly come amiss. I have our poor
     little [illegible] here. He is in very indifferent health, but no
     immediate danger is apprehended. You mention your daughter. I would
     be most happy if she should be able to accompany you.

     "Always, my dear Sir Howard,
     Most truly yours,
     Walter Scott."

Here is an instance of genuine simplicity and hearty friendship existing
between men of like nature. The true greatness of Sir Howard was
appreciated by one whose themes of poetic beauty and fervent patriotism
kindle a glow of inspiration that will burn undimmed while time shall
last. And now we close this chapter by bidding the noble, great and good
Sir Howard Douglas a fond farewell!




CHAPTER XIX.

TREVELYAN HALL--THE ARRIVAL.


The fine old building, well known to the surrounding country as
Trevelyan Hall, was indeed a true specimen of an English home. Its
present owner had, notwithstanding the fact of his being abroad in
service, spent much means to make it a home-like and delightful
residence. Its situation added to the other resources in gaining for
"The Hall" a wide-spread reputation.

The extensive park contained some of the best wooded ground in the
county of Hampshire. Its fine streams afforded means of enjoyment for
those who devote their pastime in angling and other such health-giving
recreation. Its gardens were carefully cultivated, showing much neatness
and elegance, though not affording a varied extent of scenery.

Captain Trevelyan's return was now to be associated with new and varied
interest in the interior and exterior management of this pleasant home.
Fanny Trevelyan was cheered by the hope of her brother's presence.
Company would now be entertained in a manner creditable to the former
hospitality which distinguished the Trevelyans. The handsome and elegant
apartments assigned to the daily use of the inmates in nowise
deteriorated from the exterior prospect. The extensive drawing-rooms, in
which were arranged, with tasteful effect, rich furniture, gorgeous
carpets, and all those beautiful collections of art, requisite to adorn
the home of the great and refined. The inviting library with its massive
display of well-lined shelves, the cheerful breakfast room with its
eastern aspect, the countless retreats, balconies, verandas, and summer
houses, formed a pleasing feature in the every-day life, pursuits, and
recreations of this affectionate family. Home was the spirit-like
influence which was infused in every feeling, thought, and action. A
sense of ease and comfort was enjoyed throughout the entire household.
Despite the difference of rank, wealth, and dignity, the poor dependents
felt a warm and devoted confidence in their high-born superiors. In the
sweet and childlike Fanny Trevelyan there was a subtle magnetizing
influence which compelled acknowledgment. In her kind and loving heart
was much room for the troubles and daily cares of the dependents
surrounding the estate of Trevelyan Hall. Many acts of kindness were
performed in a quiet and childlike way that was indeed pretty to see.

The only daughter of Colonel Trevelyan was a maiden of a rare and
striking character. Her gentle disposition was sufficient to win
admiration irrespective of the purity and noble qualities of her mind.
Though eighteen summers had lightly flown over the head of this lovely
girl, her manner was that of a sweet, intelligent, lovable, and
sensitive child. Sweetness of disposition was truly the coloring most
profusely portrayed in the character of Fanny Trevelyan. In this fact
lay her great delight upon Captain Trevelyan's return. Upon this fact
was based the happy expectation of seeing the generous-hearted Mr. Howe.
From this source she found all that contributed to make life pleasant
and enjoyable.

The possessor of those charms had no great claim to personal beauty, yet
she might be called beautiful. The regular features of her small and
well formed face were devoid of any distinguishing lineaments, the deep
blue eyes had a quiet, earnest light, which often shone with increasing
brightness, when accompanied with the expressive smile so often bestowed
upon those who dwelt within and around "The Hall."

As sometimes one hears remarks paid to beauty called forth by blushes,
surely in this instance we can fairly claim the compliment due Fanny
Trevelyan, whose maiden blushes indeed made her appear in truth very
beautiful--of the beauty which shall last when all other shall fade--of
the beauty which flows from the heart, kept fresh in the daily
performance of those duties that spring from the impulses of a beautiful
soul. Thus might be classified the type of beauty which adorned the
sister of Captain Trevelyan--beauty of disposition--beauty of
mind--beauty of soul.

During the last two years a friendship had sprung up between Fanny
Trevelyan and Maude Bereford. They had studied for a short time under
the same masters, from which fact arose the present attachment. A
striking similarity of disposition was noticeable between those friends,
yet, in many respects they were widely different. Though Fanny Trevelyan
was so deeply sensitive, childish and engaging, there was a depth of
character underlying these which found no comparison in Maude Bereford,
the former possessing powers of thought and reflection, which were
entire strangers to the mind of the latter. In the preferment of Lady
Rosamond, they were of the same mind. While on a visit to the Castle,
Fanny Trevelyan had received many proofs of affection from its beautiful
young mistress. She took much pleasure in the company of Maude Bereford
in strolling amid the lovely gardens, but experienced keener delight in
listening to Lady Rosamond's description of scenes in New Brunswick
rendered so dear by being associated with her brother who was still
indeed her great regard. Many times Fanny Trevelyan tried to form
various conjectures concerning this beautiful woman, wondering why she
had such an influence that was more powerful when removed from her
presence. She wondered if her brother Guy felt the same powerful
influence as herself. He had never expressed any decided opinion in
favor of her ladyship, yet she did not consider the fact as of much
importance; but he had not shown in any manner, nor by repeated
inquiries, any betrayal that would lead one to suppose that he
entertained any regard whatever for the lovely being.

Fanny Trevelyan was now busied in matters of great importance.
Preparations were being made for the reception of Maude Bereford, Mary
Douglas and Mr. Howe. Then she would hear still further of New Brunswick
life--its pleasures and its inconveniences. Gaily did she perform the
many little offices left to deft fingers and untiring patience. Maude
had availed herself of the temporary absence of her invalid brother and
his devoted wife. Three weeks were to be spent in the society of
Trevelyan Hall. Fanny Trevelyan had a little secret project in her mind
which gave much pleasure. She would be in a position to introduce Maude
Bereford to the notice of her brother Guy. With girlish glee she
anticipated much from the circumstance, wondering in what way her friend
might be received at the hand of the last named gentleman.

On the other hand Captain Trevelyan had _his_ plans to mature. Without
consulting his sister's opinion, he had a secret pleasure in the hope
that his ever true friend might find much to admire in the young girl
who was soon to be their guest. He had not the slightest wish to enter
on any schemes by which his loved sister might be complicated. Fanny
Trevelyan was fancy free. It was his fond hope that she remain so many
years to come. Bitter experience taught Captain Trevelyan a lesson from
which he could draw many useful hints and resolves. He was careful to
guard against any exposure to which his loved sister might be subjected.

Amid these doubly laid plans the inmates of the hall welcomed their
visitors, in whom were also included Captain Douglas. The sincerity of
the latter was expressive in the humorous and hearty congratulations
showered upon the genial host.

"Trevelyan, old boy, you are a mighty fine specimen of the old school!
Egad, what would the Frederictonians say could they look in upon you
now," exclaimed the incorrigible Charles, with the ruling passion
uppermost, while he threw himself upon an easy chair in a free and
jovial manner.

"I am inclined to think that they would not be favorably impressed with
such a wholesale exhibition were each one to repeat the same performance
as yourself," retorted Mr. Howe, assuming an air of nonchalance.

"Ah, I see how it is with my honored friend," once more ventured Captain
Douglas, "he already is maturing plans to place me at disadvantage
before I have fairly secured entrance to Trevelyan Hall; but," added the
speaker, with an air of playful menace, "old chap the tables may turn,
as they did many a time in Fredericton."

Much as Mr. Howe regarded his friend, Charles Douglas, he wished that
the last remark had not been made. Though it were said with the ease of
unconscious and humorous gaiety, the quick glance of the secretary saw
the instant effect. This was the only point on which he remained
reticent to his bosom friend. They had been together for years. They had
grown from childhood together, yet Captain Trevelyan's secret must
remain a secret. Were it known to Charles Douglas, he would have
cherished it with a sanctity becoming him as one whose whole lifetime
marked out the strait laid down by the great poet: "where one but goes
abreast." But the hospitable host was in his gayest mood. Everything
contributed to make the reception a flattering one. Fanny Trevelyan was
at ease among the old friends of her deeply beloved brother. Mary
Douglas was in ecstacies of delight upon thus meeting Guy Trevelyan. On
several occasions she was deeply sad when referring to the troubles of
Lady Rosamond, but seemed to feel hopeful in the return of Gerald
Bereford's health and strength. Maude Bereford was playful, entertaining
and happy. A more pleasant party were never gathered at "The Hall." Lady
Trevelyan was a dignified and reserved woman, possessing much judgment
and coolness of decision, but added to these were qualities which
endeared her both to her family and all those who made her acquaintance.
It was with extreme pleasure that she contributed a share in the
entertainment of those friends who had extended such kindness to her
only son when placed among strangers in a distant land. By every
possible means within her power, Lady Trevelyan lavished both gratitude
and affection upon the beautiful daughter of the distinguished family
who had shared their hearts and home with the handsome young lieutenant
when first deprived of the society of his own happy household. Such was
the disposition of Lady Trevelyan that these tokens of disinterested
friendship could never be forgotten, but steadily shone as a bright
light to cheer her daily path, undimmed by any darkening visions of
disappointed hopes or vain delusions.

This happy family have realized their parents' wishes. Captain
Trevelyan's retirement was urged by an earnest entreaty on the part of
his mother. By it he could attend to the numerous requirements of the
estate, which had lately become an onerous duty devolving upon Mrs.
Trevelyan. The faithful steward of the family had grown old in the
service and not capable of managing the business as in the days of his
prime. Yet the fact only added to his reputation. Captain Trevelyan
advised in such a quiet and suggestive manner that the old servant
scarcely felt his growing inability. No discord prevailed. Moderation
was the true secret. The family of Colonel Trevelyan treated their
dependents with gentleness and kindness. Lady Trevelyan often sought
advice from them in such a way as both showed her confidence in their
opinion, and gained unbounded respect towards the relationship thus
existing between them. Mary Douglas at first seemed inclined to shrink
from the reserved demeanor of her ladyship, but further acquaintance
made her feel comparatively at ease. Really the present occasion
afforded opportunity for what may, with due propriety, be termed a
complication of plans, or more properly still, plans within plans. Lady
Trevelyan had formed her little plans. To do justice to her ladyship we
will not say that she formed it, but that she would very agreeably and
readily have acquiesced in the matter. Reader, we are half inclined to
keep her ladyship's--no, we will not say plan--fond dream--a secret.
Supposing that many of you are not considered temper-proof we dare not
provoke the multiplied assaults of hitherto amiable and patient friends,
therefore we will treat you fairly by taking you into our entire
confidence at present. Lady Trevelyan had soon learned to love Mary
Douglas with a feeling akin to her nature. She fondly watched every
effort or action in the movement of her favorite guest. Every playful or
fond gesture was carefully hoarded up as a store of treasures in the
mind of her ladyship. Faithfully did she note each mark of favor shown
at the hand of the genial young host. Lady Trevelyan was _only a woman_
as all others. Do not chide if she had set her heart upon one fond
thought--if she secretly hoped that Guy Trevelyan would endeavor to
secure for her another daughter in the beautiful Mary Douglas. Is a
devoted mother always rewarded for such anxiety towards her first-born
and heir? Do these respective heirs and highly-favored children strive
to further the wishes of those deeply interested parents, especially
mothers? In a more particular sense, did Captain Trevelyan take any
steps to advance the scheme which lay near her ladyship's heart?

Fanny Trevelyan was also busily occupied in watching the daily progress
of her fond projects. She was not overjoyed in fond expectation, yet was
contented to await the result of daily companionship for an indefinite
period, as Maude Bereford was to remain until her presence was demanded
at the castle. Still the young hostess gave herself no uneasiness about
her brother's affairs. If he would form an attachment to Maude Bereford
it would be a source for much rejoicing and happiness. She was
altogether unconscious of the counter plots or schemes laid to thwart
her own. Mr. Howe was vastly entertaining in his endless variety of
diverting moods, making himself by turn the especial cavalier of every
lady in the company. To Lady Trevelyan he was doubly considerate and
devoted. Captain Trevelyan knew the motive and warmly appreciated it. He
had many times wished for an opportunity to return such passing acts of
kindness, yet in vain. Captain Douglas fully sustained his former
reputation for satirical jests and well-timed jokes at the expense of
his friends. Frequently those whom he regarded _most_ received attacks
in proportion to the value of such regard. Formerly to Lieutenant
Trevelyan and his friend Howe were daily administered doses of almost
equal quantity and in double proportion to those outside the household.
Yet who did not admire the gifted, manly, and handsome son of Sir Howard
Douglas? Who was not ready to welcome him with heart and hand around the
festive board or social circle? Who has not become infected by his
jovial, gay, happy, and generous nature? Truly, Captain Charles Douglas
was a worthy son of an honored race--the royal house of Douglas. In the
midst of such a company of "tried friends and true," the days and weeks
must have flown rapidly away while enjoying the hospitality of Trevelyan
Hall.

Fanny Trevelyan, admired, petted, and caressed, had still the same
childlike nature when friendship had been matured by daily
companionship. Mary Douglas was charmed with the sweet and engaging
manner which was at first attributed to a want of confidence. Frequently
she spoke to Captain Trevelyan concerning his "child sister," as she
playfully termed her once, exclaiming: "How beautiful if Fanny shall
always be a child woman."

"It shall be my earnest wish," returned Guy; "I would not have her
otherwise."




CHAPTER XX.

A WINTER IN THE ETERNAL CITY.


Gerald Bereford was now enjoying the soft summer breezes, blue skies and
golden sunshine of an Italian climate. His health seemed to improve as
he neared the far-famed city--the eternal city--the gigantic monument of
what has been in ages of the mighty past. Many visions arose before Lady
Rosamond's mind as she contemplated the magnificent ruins that met her
at every gaze. In the company of several acquaintances they visited
scenes of impressive and peculiar interest: St. Peter's, in all its
glory, rising from its piazza of stately columns and fountains,
something too grand for description. This imposing specimen of classic
architecture, with grandeur inconceivable, the interior, the lofty dome,
called up emotions her ladyship could never forget. In the coliseum the
invalid seemed to enjoy returning vigor as he looked down from the upper
halls and viewed the triumphal arches of Constantine, Septimus, Severus
and Titus, now crumbling into decay, the lofty corridors left to the
mercy of the elements, the endless porches grass grown and unprotected
from the wild beast, the mouldering parapet, taught the one inspiring
theme--mortality. This ruin of ruins--what can it not recall to a vivid
imagination? The thousands who lined those seats in eager gaze upon the
arena with its bloody and heart-sickening conflicts, its array of
blood-thirsty antagonists, its dying groans, its weltering victims.
Where are they? What remains? Awful solitude, awful grandeur, awful
beauty, desolation. Peace, the emblem of Christianity, now reigns in the
ancient stronghold of barbaric passion, butchery and strife. Lady
Rosamond had visited ruins of palaces, castles, bridges, arches,
cathedrals, monuments and countless relics of the past, but none had the
power to chain her thoughts as the stupendous coliseum, viewed in the
solemn stillness of a moonlight night. The present was a beautiful
dream. It had a softening effect upon the devoted wife, infusing peace,
content, and calm repose. The solemn reminders on every side had a charm
to soothe her hitherto troubled breast. Holy emotions were nurtured
within the heart where once reposed unresisting conflicts of rebellious
strife and discontent.

With the warm breath of nature came awakening life into the emaciated
frame of the invalid. Lady Rosamond devoted every waking moment to her
husband. In the charming eventide they sat upon the balcony of their
residence overlooking the Corso, catching a glimpse of the open country
beyond the surrounding mountains and the ever restless Tiber.
Frequently, they rode slowly along the Appian Way, now almost impassable
for heaps of rubbish, mounds, and broken fragments, temples, columns,
pillars, and successive piles of neglected relics. The Campagna, in its
dreary aspect, often tempted their stay. Sometimes her ladyship would
have a feeling of vexation, knowing that it was utterly impossible to
visit more of the sights of Rome. They might remain for years and leave
many scenes unexplored. The palace of the Vatican formed a life-long
study for Lady Rosamond. Only a few of its four thousand rooms could be
visited, yet these were bewildering in variety. Here they could view the
most wonderful collections of art and grandeur that the world affords.
Here were stored the endless piles of antique trophies of every
clime--rooms representing oriental scenes throughout, starlit skies, and
monsters of unknown existence meet one on every side and fill the mind
with awe.

For the benefit of the reader we will insert the letters written by Lady
Rosamond to her friend, Mary Douglas, containing a short description of
some important places, and showing the tender interest inciting the
writer when referring to the circumstance of her husband's ill
health--the hopeful vein which pervaded throughout, and the true spirit
of friendship extended to the absent one.

     Rome, February 10th, 1831.

     _My Dearest Mary_:

     As many miles lie between us there is no alternative but the
     hastily written and imperfect scribble which will shortly be
     presented you, if the elements have not conspired against us.

     In order to relieve your uneasiness I beg to state that Gerald's
     health is daily improving. He has much faith in Rome. Scarcely a
     day passes without his enjoying the benefit of the delightful
     atmosphere and the lovely drives out into the open country, of
     which I must tell you afterwards. The large number of acquaintances
     formed since our arrival have contributed much to our enjoyment. We
     frequently meet many of our old friends. Imagine our delightful
     surprise on seeing Captain Crofton, his wife and daughter. Of
     course you remember the latter--a lovely girl of purely blonde
     style, whom we meet at Lady Berkeley's, and who created such
     sensations in London circles on her first appearance in society.
     Gerald declares that the face of an old friend is better than
     medicine. What do you think he would say were you to enter rather
     suddenly upon us? My dearest, I know what I would say if such an
     overwhelming happiness were in store. These thoughts call up
     feelings which are inimical to peace and content. I am almost
     tempted to wish for the quiet of our English home and the sight of
     your dear face. But this must not be. I shall forget to give you
     some sights of Rome if I indulge in vain and foolish regrets.
     Really I am at a loss how to convey any idea of such scenes as we
     are almost daily witnessing. In the present instance I feel my
     inability to appreciate what is lofty and inspiring to every
     cultivated mind. Often I am inclined to envy those of brilliant
     intellectual perceptions like yourself. When the day arrives that
     you visit the Eternal City will it not be viewed in a different
     sense than in the present under the ordinary gaze of your
     short-sighted Rosamond?

     Gerald says: "Tell Mary something of the churches," without
     thinking of the arduous task therein devolved. Poor fellow! He
     seems anxious to make amends for so much self-sacrifice. In
     compliance to his wishes your friend reaps twofold pleasure,
     therefore Mary shall hear "of the churches."

     About three weeks ago a party of tourists, including the Croftons
     and ourselves; visited several of the grand old churches, so
     important in the history of Roman architecture of classic ages. The
     first we entered was the church of the Ara Coeli, said to occupy
     the site of the ancient temple of Jupiter Feretrius. It was a
     gloomy old structure with long rows of pillars of Etruscan design.
     On ascending the long flight of steep stairs on one side the
     impressive gloom increased. The situation awoke old associations of
     the sybilline and vague predictions of the time-honored
     soothsayers--their power--their greatness--their fall. We were more
     than impressed with the churches of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo,
     beneath which lay in awful depths the subterranean caverns said to
     be connected with the Coliseum. Gerald remained above while I
     followed the explorers through these dismal yawning gulfs seemingly
     ready to open and shut their victims in a living tomb. Streets ran
     in various directions; the mouldy, damp walls emitted a
     disagreeable watery vapor that rendered the air unbearable;
     stagnant pools lay on all sides. Is it not an appalling thought
     that these successive ranges of caverns were constructed for the
     human victims to be eaten by the beasts at the Coliseum, yet such
     is the legend. Doubtless you already weary of churches, but having
     first attempted them at the suggestion of Gerald, now I am deeply
     interested in the matter myself. But you will only listen to one
     more very short account. The church of San Sebastiano, which next
     received us, is situated on the Appian Way, and perhaps the most
     remarkable of any we have hitherto visited. The site is truly
     beyond description. The stupendous masses of rocks piled on every
     side appeared to give it an interest more than common. The endless
     rows of decaying columns, pillars, stained windows, and paintings,
     added one more link to the chain of daily events which form such an
     important part in our visit.

     As I intend very soon to write you something of a livelier
     description, I now conclude this hastily-written scribble. Dearest,
     I expect to hear from you all immediately. Gerald is rapidly
     improving, and is sanguine of ultimate recovery. Adieu. From

     Your Rosamond.

Lady Rosamond now entertained hopes of her husband's recovery. He seemed
much stronger and took a deeper interest in their explorations. In the
company of English friends he visited all the accessible spots of
historic ground. Lady Rosamond was always ready to encourage him by her
hopeful remarks and winning smile. She had formed an attachment to the
lovely Mabel Crofton, who indeed repaid her in a fond return.

Nothing gave Gerald Bereford more anxiety than the pale face of his
wife. In his feeble health he strove to draw her ladyship's attention
towards the social circle with a view to raise her occasional drooping
spirits.

In the young English maiden Lady Rosamond found much company. They
conversed much and enjoyed the sights together with united regard and
interest.

In answer to a lengthy letter received shortly afterwards from Mary
Douglas, the following was penned by Lady Rosamond:

     Rome, April 15th, 1831.

     _My Darling Mary_:

     Truly did you respond to my wishes. How can I ever repay so much
     devotion? You have indeed granted my requests in mentioning all my
     friends, and giving all the matter which interests Gerald so much.
     He is indeed truly grateful and is going to write you by next mail.
     His health has not been improving so rapidly of late, yet we have
     every hope of his recovery. Will it not be a happy moment when we
     meet again on the shores of dear old England? The very dust and fog
     will have a charm hitherto unknown.

     As we are in Rome you will expect something from Rome, therefore I
     will tell you of what has recently been going on. Last week was the
     Carnival. Gerald complained of weakness and fatigue, having exerted
     himself too much during the previous week. He was much disappointed
     in not being able to participate in the amusement, but had to be
     satisfied by remaining on the balcony of our residence, overlooking
     the Corso, which, as you know, is the principal street paraded on
     those occasions. Gerald interrupts me by requesting a long letter
     and full description, therefore on him alone rests the blame if I
     exceed the length usually devoted to letter writing.

     Now for the Carnival. At an early hour on Monday morning the usual
     bustle and active preparations commenced. Carriages rolled along
     laden with confectionaries and flowers. In fact the street, houses,
     and passing vehicles of every description, appeared as though the
     heavens had literally rained flowers--flowers showered in every
     direction. Evidently we were certain that flowers were to be one of
     the prominent features witnessed in the grand demonstration. Every
     house opening on the Corso was covered with bright streamers,
     pennons, and flags of every size, shape, color, and hue--red, blue,
     white, green, gold, purple, yellow, and pink. Every window was
     festooned with flowers, banners, and like array. Every shop was
     converted into gorgeous saloons, decorated with trees, garlands,
     evergreens, resplendent in silver, crimson, and gold, filled with
     hundreds of anxious spectators. Every nook and corner was made
     bright by the sparkle of beautiful eyes, merry smiles and happy
     faces. Thousands jostled on every side in representation of
     monkeys, lions, tigers, soldiers, clowns, maniacs. Satanic deities
     and every other deity credited to countless ages, helped to swell
     the crowd wedging themselves between line upon line of carriages
     four abreast. The general bombardment commenced on all sides was
     truly an exciting scene. Grand assaults were made upon houses and
     carriage with alike furious resistance; missiles of bonbons rose in
     the air, volley upon volley; storms of flowers. Those seated in
     windows and balconies made desperate onsets upon the passing
     carriages. Hand to hand encounters now became general; monkeys
     assailed lions; mamelukes returned the fire of gipsies; a grand
     hurly-burly arose from every point in sight. Clouds fell from upper
     balconies upon each side of the street as the crowds poured on in
     incessant streams which became at intervals one moving mass of dust,
     white as snow. Beautiful ladies, maidens and children, mingled in
     the gay scene--all intent upon the same enjoyment. It is impossible
     to convey the faintest idea of this grand display which is kept up
     from early morning until half-past four o'clock, when the street is
     cleared as by magic. How such a concourse of carriages and people
     get into the adjoining nooks and piazzas in such a short time is
     astonishing, while thousands still cling to the sidewalks of the
     Corso. A chariot race is the next proceeding, when, within the
     space of a few moments, the horses are in their places--the signal
     given--the distance of the Corso gained--the race won.

     This is the first day's outline of sport, which is followed in
     successive order until the end of the season. Having already
     lengthened this letter in twofold proportion, I must take room to
     say that the festive scene instantly ceases as the solemn notes of
     Ave Maria rises from the hundreds of steeples--the requiem for the
     departing carnival.

     I will not distract your attention with the palaces of the Cæsars,
     the Cenci, St. Angelo, and the remains of antiquity still to be
     seen here, but trust that when we meet again every wish that you
     formerly expressed regarding our stay in Rome will be realized a
     thousandfold.

     Looking at the volume of this letter I feel quite ashamed, but
     trust that absence and distance will help to plead my cause. Gerald
     seems quite confident that his suggestion will also speak loudly in
     my favor, and perhaps he is right. At least I hope so. Remember me
     kindly to every one of the family, I shall mention none
     particularly. Gerald expresses a wish not to be forgotten by you.
     Now, dearest Mary, if this truly formidable missive weary you,
     please deal gently with Gerald and

     Your Loving Rosamond.

Lady Rosamond had given her friend some of the glimpses of her
experience in Rome, yet she had much more to relate on her arrival. Some
months would elapse before her husband would consider his health
sufficiently restored to return to his native land. At intervals he
seemed almost restored when a sudden relapse would cause a renewed
return of the symptoms attending his flattering disease. Still they were
hopeful that with the returning spring health would be restored the
patient invalid. Throughout the severe dispensation Gerald Bereford
manifested no irritation, no fretfulness, no complaining. He seemed to
be happy in appreciating the labors of his beautiful wife. On one
occasion, when she asked if he did not weary of his sickness, he quietly
replied:

"Darling Rosamond, it has shown that you are willing to sacrifice every
pleasure in devotion to one who can never fully repay such a debt of
gratitude. Do you think that I can try, my Rosamond?" exclaimed he,
pressing a fond kiss upon the lips of the pale but lovely woman, as she
sat beside him.

Ah! Gerald Bereford knew not that in these words there lay a hidden
meaning. Surely, and in a way unknown to both, will the debt be paid.




CHAPTER XXI.

LIGHT, SHADOW, AND DARKNESS.


The guests at Trevelyan Hall had departed, Maude Bereford alone
remaining. Captain Trevelyan applied himself to the duties devolving
upon him with a will. His hospitality was the comment of many. He had
begun life aright. His honest heart and upright principles were a sure
passport to prosperity and popularity. "The Hall" was a scene of much
gaiety and resort. Large gatherings were of frequent occurrence, to
which the families of the surrounding neighbourhood were cordially
invited. Fanny Trevelyan was idolized among her youthful companions and
associates. Her sweet face was welcomed as a delightful acquisition on
every occasion. Many sought to show their fond appreciation of her
retiring manners and graceful elegance. Flattery had no power over her.
She possessed a character of too much depth and penetration to harbor the
least feeling akin to vanity. Lady Trevelyan had guarded her daughter's
education and trained her with a view to set a proper estimate upon those
qualities which ennoble and elevate the soul. Maude Bereford was a proper
companion for Fanny Trevelyan. Their minds were in harmony, while the
latter acted as a propelling power to force the aspirations of the other
above their common flight. Lady Trevelyan was pleased with this
companionship. Though she could not discern the brilliant genius and
powers which characterized the beautiful Mary Douglas, there was much
to admire in Maude Bereford. Captain Trevelyan was kind, amiable and
attentive. He paid every mark of respect towards his gentle and loveable
guest. Frequently they walked, chatted and rode together. Maude was
pleased with the gentlemanly attentions of the engaging officer, and
showed her appreciation in many ways. He enjoyed the society of those two
girls much as those of playful children. Fanny was truly happy in her
brother's company.

"Dear Guy, you must never love any one more than me," was a frequent
rejoinder as she received his many tender caresses.

One day, when seated upon the lower end of the balcony, Fanny laid her
hand lovingly upon her brother's shoulder and looking into his face,
exclaimed:

"Guy, I have often wondered about you."

"About me, pet," returned the latter, "what can it be about me that is
really worthy of so much attention from a young lady fair? Already I
feel as of some importance."

Guy Trevelyan was now a handsome man of twenty-seven. The effeminate
blush of youth had given place to an open and engaging animation that
made him doubly attractive. Turning his gaze upon his sister, he added:

"Come, little one, tell me this great wonder. I must not be kept in
suspense. Cannot Maude assist you? If so, I rely upon her in the present
dilemma," said Guy, turning in playful appeal to Maude Bereford.

"Your surmise is groundless, _mon frere_," returned Fanny, in childish
glee, "Maude is entirely in the dark, (pardon the vulgarism.)"

"I will pardon you in everything, provided you gratify my curiosity,"
said the other.

"Fanny, it is unjust to treat Guy in this way," said Maude, by way of
intercession.

"Two against one," cried Fanny, with a demure smile upon her face. "The
majority has it. I am placed in a difficult position," said she, turning
to her friend, adding, "Maude only for your suggestion I might have been
able to extricate myself. Well, I shall try my best to maintain peace by
compliance to your united wishes."

"By telling us one of the seven wonders," interrupted Maude.

"Yes," said Fanny, "I have often wondered why it was that Guy could
remain so long in the companionship of Mary Douglas or Lady Rosamond and
come back heart whole to Trevelyan Hall."

Captain Trevelyan had received a home thrust, yet he betrayed no feeling
and showed no reason for suspicion, at least in the eyes of his sister
and her companion. A quiet laugh greeted the remark. Guy Trevelyan had
not the keen glances of the secretary levelled at him now, else the
puzzling expression that rested awhile upon his face would instantly
have been detected.

"That is the great wonder," said the brother, drawing his sister nearer
to his side, adding: "Well, my little sister, until _you_ have become
weary of your brother's keeping he is anxious to claim the gracious
liberty of possessing the love of one devoted heart. What says _la
belle_ Fanny?"

"Oh, Guy," cried Maude, "she was afraid that you may possibly have
charitable intentions towards some fair one and wishes to make the
test."

"Why, Maude," exclaimed Fanny, "you are really in earnest; I shall begin
to think, from the stand you have taken in the matter, that Guy had
better beware, else ere long he will not be able to make such avowals to
his sister."

"Come, come, little mischief-maker, no jealousy," cried Captain
Trevelyan, hastily drawing an arm of each within his own, and then they
joined her ladyship in the shrubbery.

Fanny Trevelyan was truly in jest. She had found that no real attachment
was to be formed between her brother and friend. There had arisen
instead a tender familiarity, a friendship that is rare to be seen.
Maude Bereford had grown to treat Guy Trevelyan with brotherly kindness.
It pleased him to witness this feeling arising from disinterested
friendship and motives of genuine purity. Were it otherwise he would
feel an embarrassment that might affect his honest nature. When left to
himself he could not dismiss from his thoughts the remark made by his
sister. He knew she was ignorant of his affairs in New Brunswick, yet he
felt sorely puzzled.

Not long after the following conversation took place, Maude Bereford was
preparing to hasten homeward. Lady Rosamond sent cheerful accounts of
her husband's rapid improvement. They were still visiting amid the ruins
in hopes of speedily returning to England.

Every fortnight brought to Trevelyan Hall a lengthy epistle from Mary
Douglas--lengthy from the fact of its being addressed to each member of
the family--bearing remembrance to Lady Trevelyan, many choice bits of
gossip to Guy, and charming effusions to Fanny, full of love and
tenderness. Her last contained a glowing allusion to Lady Rosamond--an
eager desire to meet her loving friend; also fervent gratitude for the
hopeful restoration of Gerald's health.

"I am almost inclined to feel a pang of jealousy," exclaimed Fanny, as
she read and re-read the contents of the precious missive. "Mary loves
Lady Rosamond better than any other friends on earth."

"Why not, my child?" questioned Lady Trevelyan; "they are old
friends--friends in childhood, girlhood, and womanhood. Lady Rosamond is
worthy of the truest and purest love. She is beautiful, good, and
lovable. Who could see her ladyship but to admire and love?"

"Dear Mamma," returned Fanny, "you share my sentiments towards Lady
Rosamond. Guy seemed surprised when I ventured to wonder why he could
remain so long in the daily society of two such gifted and lovely beings
as her ladyship and Mary Douglas, without forming stronger ties than
those of friendship."

"Both are lovely," exclaimed Lady Trevelyan. "It would indeed be a
difficult matter for a lover to decide between two so much alike in
beauty, grace, and loveliness."

"Strange that I did not think of this before, mamma," said the
childlike Fanny with an air of much wisdom. "The poet must certainly
have experienced the same predicament when he wrote:

    "How happy could I be with either,
     Were t'other dear charmer away."

A week had elapsed after Maude had arrived at the castle when a hastily
written note was received by Fanny Trevelyan from the former, containing
sad news from Rome. Gerald Bereford had apparently recovered, and was on
the eve of returning home when he was suddenly seized with hemorrhage of
the lungs, which rapidly reduced him and brought on prostration. Medical
assistance had been obtained, but he now lay in a critical state, every
means being used to prevent another attack, in which case there could be
no hope.

Maude Bereford had penned those lines in bitter anguish. She loved her
brother from the depths of her heart. His life must be spared. Heaven
could not deprive her of such a blessing. Ah, no, he will live! In this
hour of trial the sorrowing girl sought comfort in those rebellious and
sinful thoughts. She had not the sustaining faith to say, "Thy will be
done." It is needless to say that Maude's letter met much sympathy at
"The Hall." Fanny cried heartily. She could not think of any thing but
the sadness that had fallen upon the inmates of the Castle.

"Poor Lady Rosamond," exclaimed she, in tones of undisguised sadness,
"how she will lament her sad fate if Gerald should die? Oh, mamma, I
cannot think it possible that he must die."

"Tempt not Heaven, my child, for 'with God all things are possible,'"
said Lady Trevelyan, who was a truly Christian woman. "Everything is
ordered aright," continued her ladyship, "there are no afflictions or
trials in life but what are considered for our good. It is indeed a
heavy blow upon the young wife to lose the husband of her choice, but
how many have borne up when deprived of father, mother, husband and
child."

"Oh, mamma," exclaimed Fanny, "if I could only look upon the ways of
Providence in the same manner as you. I know it is sinful, but I cannot
help thinking that it is too hard for Gerald to be taken away from Lady
Rosamond. How I pity her. Poor dear Maude too. How badly she must feel."

The physician's worst fears were realized. Spite of every care and
precaution a second attack of hemorrhage made its fatal ravages upon the
fast sinking body of the sufferer. Gerald Bereford must die. All hopes
are at an end. Death has set its seal upon his broad, fair forehead.
Soon the eyes that still fondly linger upon the form of his beautiful
wife shall close to open upon the scenes of another world.

This was a bitter trial to Lady Rosamond! Her husband was to die in a
foreign land. He was to be deprived of a last farewell to the dear
friends at home. Such thoughts, bore heavily upon the susceptible nature
of this faithful woman. Could she then have gathered those loved ones
around the dying bed of her husband, she would have sacrificed every
earthly desire; yes, her life. Then did she think of her friend, Mary
Douglas; then did she need the consolation of a true Christian friend.
Like a ministering angel, she strove to soothe the last hours of her
dying husband. Never was woman more devoted, heroic and patient. Not a
murmur escaped her lips as she sat for hours watching the quickening
breath in death-like struggle, convulsing the almost lifeless form of
one who had ever been kind, dutiful, loving, and true to his vow.

On his death-bed, Gerald Bereford felt no pangs of remorse devouring his
latest thoughts. He could die in the belief of having been ever devoted
to her whom he had promised to love, cherish and protect. Keenly did
Lady Rosamond feel this reflection. Had her husband been less kind,
generous and true, she could have borne the present with a firmness
worthy of her spirit. But the thoughts that now filled her breast were
maddening, merciless and torturing.

"What have I done to suffer so much through life," was the mental
question ever uppermost.

Gerald Bereford had fought the battle of life bravely. He had taken part
in its conflicts and struggles, never flinching from his post when duty
called. Ambition had dazzlingly tempted him on--on--further on. He must
be victorious in gaining the cause for which so many had fought with
firm determination. Could he have lived to see the result of such
political warfare--its blessings and its privileges--its freedom--he
might exclaim with the brave general, "I die happy." But he _did_ die
happy. He _lived_ a happy life--he _died_ a happy death.

Lady Rosamond had many kind friends amidst this sad bereavement. Her
pale face had power to move the most stoical--more powerful than the
loudest outbursts of grief, or the paroxysms of a passionate and
unsubdued sorrow.

What she suffered in those hours of silent anguish Heaven alone can ever
know. Thoughts forced themselves upon her almost too hard to bear. Truly
did she need the strength for which she had prayed on a former occasion.
It seems a sacrilegious intrusion to unveil the heart of this truly
devoted woman, who had sacrificed her entire being to the wishes and
welfare of one whom she had calmly laid to rest. Fain would we stop
here. But the sequel must be told.

Lady Rosamond had married Gerald Bereford with a firm resolve to be a
dutiful and yielding wife, yet her heart had refused to follow. She
never loved the man who lived upon her smiles. Still he knew it not. She
was to him kind, loving, and pure. She was indeed _kind_. In every
action shone kindness in characters of bold relief. Everyone who knew
her found naught but true kindness. _Loving_? Yes, loving; though Gerald
Bereford stirred not the depths of Lady Rosamond's heart, she was
capable of a love as undying as the soul that gave it birth. It was her
life--her being. In pity for her faithful husband she had guarded every
secret passage of the heart which might lead to the betrayal of bitter
and desolate feelings. _Pure_? Yes; purity was the guiding star which
marked the daily course of this woman's existence. Her acts were
pure--her mind was pure--her heart was pure--every thought was pure.
There was purity in her sorrow, leading to pure and holy
thoughts--speaking to the soul--giving comfort--giving hope.

In deep sincerity did Lady Rosamond mourn for her husband. She mourned
his loss as that of a loved brother--a dear friend--one in whom she
confided. She found much comfort in the thought of having done her best.
She had fulfilled her duty--she had struggled bravely. She had cheered
her husband's path through life--she had kept her secret--made one being
happy. Surely such thoughts must have offered some relief. She had
committed no wrong, having gone forth at the summon of duty, she had
taken upon her frail, trembling form, a cross overpowering in its
weight, yet she murmured not.

As she is sitting beside the lifeless remains of one who had filled such
an important part in her history--a striking illustration of life in its
varied forms of existence--its joys--its sorrows--its longings--its
aspirations--its dreams--let us look upon her as one of the many
purified through much suffering--whose faith will meet its recompense.




CHAPTER XXII.

CONCLUSION.


Reader, we will ask you to follow us as we pass over a period of two
years--two long years. The task imposed is an arduous one, yet, we
shrink not. All former friends must be searched out, and once more
introduced. Be not impatient if we do not succeed in the direct order of
your wishes. In the uncertain distance faint echoes are already heard
between intervals of solemn thoughts, while the name of Rosamond strikes
upon our ear and vibrates within us as though the influence of myriads
of spirits had woven around a deep subtle spell from which we cannot
force ourselves. In truth, you have won us--your point is gained.

Now to your relief. Bereford Castle stands in its grandeur and beauty
with not an object near to mar the effect. Its stoical exterior bears no
impress of the loss sustained in the heir and son. Menacingly it frowns
upon those scenes which recall the realities of life. Amid storm,
sunshine, sickness and death, its aspect is unchanged--true type of its
age, order and design. On entrance, the interior is calm, quiet and
inviting. Daily contact with the inmates has had a soothing effect. Look
around. In the spacious drawing room, opening upon the garden, is the
family occupied in different ways. Lord Bereford is seated beside the
familiar form of a beautiful woman dressed in robes of mourning. A
second glance is not necessary to aid recognition. The sweet pensive
smile is sufficient. Lady Rosamond has lost none of her charms. Time has
no grudge against her for personal wrongs, no retributive justice to be
meted out--instead, the quiet happiness of a contented mind is lavished
with true delight. A fond light beams in the lovely eyes as they turn
towards Maude Bereford--ever the same Maude that strolled around
Trevelyan Hall some time in the past. The same simplicity is attached to
every movement, action and speech--Maude still.

But a stranger is engrossing her attention. A tall, handsome and gallant
gentleman occupies a seat at her side, devoting his attentions to her,
occasionally addressing Lady Rosamond in terms of endearing familiarity.
There is not much difficulty in ascertaining the relationship. Geoffrey
Seymour had become a frequent visitor at the Castle. The blushes that
greeted him told the tale upon Maude Bereford. Yet, she cared not for
the eyes of the world. She had given her heart to a true, honorable and
affectionate lover. Already she has woven bright dreams wherein are
clearly portrayed outlines of two fond beings living in the sunshine of
each other's love, surrounded by the comforts and ease of a bright and
happy fireside. Lady Bereford is within the privacy of her own
apartments. Grief and anxiety have left heavy marks upon her hitherto
well preserved face. The furrowed forehead, wrinkles and grey hairs,
show full well the heavy blow which had been dealt her ladyship in the
death of her first-born. Time cannot eradicate the inroads made upon
this high-minded woman. Her failing health speaks of dissolution. The
mother's heart that beat so wildly as she dreamt of the glorious future
of her son, now feebly responded to the sluggish torpor of faded hopes.

Other friends are awaited at the Castle. Ere we have time to turn aside,
light steps are flying across the hall and a girlish figure is at our
elbow, and the next instant in the arms of Lady Rosamond and Maude. The
childish face of Fanny Trevelyan once seen is not soon to be forgotten.
Oh no, Fanny, you occupy an important niche within our memory! Two years
were only a myth--a dream to the young mistress of Trevelyan Hall, save
when some other's troubles aroused her sympathy and called forth the
fine feelings of her nature. The former playful glee is still alive in
Fanny's buoyant and lively manner. Her gaiety at times subsides to gaze
upon Lady Rosamond's thoughtful face. The heart of this maiden is still
fancy free. Guy Trevelyan is not disappointed in his sister, he being
yet the dearest object of her heart.

"Dearest Maude," cried Fanny, in rapturous delight, "will we not form a
happy family when Mary joins us."

"One would consider you a happy family already if happiness bears
comparison by merriment," ventured a well-known voice from the outside
apartment--a voice that had power to stir the soul of Lady Rosamond to
its lowest depths, and kindle the smouldering passion time had vainly
tried to smother into a fierce and steady flame. Strange that her
ladyship must pass another fiery ordeal--that she must add more sorrow
to her hitherto sad, eventful life.

No quivering lip or trembling form gave hope to Guy Trevelyan as he
pressed the small white hand of one whom he loved tenderly and
passionately--one whose image had been engraven upon his memory since he
had given his boyish affections to the lovely, high-born, gentle girl,
when a guest at Government House in Fredericton. Like the last moments
of a drowning man, scenes he had almost forgotten flashed before him in
countless array--scenes, varied and infinite, in which Lady Rosamond
formed the pleasing foreground.

Face to face with this beautiful woman Guy Trevelyan was ready to fall
down in adoration and pour out the tale of his sorrow with the ardor of
undying love. What is the tenor of his thoughts while engaged in quiet
and easy conversation with her ladyship and the other occupants of the
drawing-room? Guy Trevelyan is wondering if he dare avow his love--if by
any means he can find hope to approach Lady Rosamond on a subject which
engrosses his waking thoughts.

Mary Douglas completed the family circle. With her came love, joy, hope,
and happiness. Her lovely presence gave fresh impulse to every one
greeting her arrival. Lady Rosamond felt a ray of light shed upon her as
she caressed her true and constant friend. Maude was happier, if
possible, in the love of Geoffrey Seymour when listening to the sweet
silvery voice of this peerless woman. Fanny was overjoyed on the arrival
of Mary Douglas. She alone could open her heart before the gaze of a
companion. Her affections were untrammelled by false hopes or unrequited
love. She sought the society of the former with a feeling bordering on
idolatry. Together they spent much of their time, while Captain
Trevelyan was thrown upon the resources of Lady Rosamond. The constant
companionship of the man whom she loved cost many a bitter struggle to
her ladyship. The earnest gaze of Guy Trevelyan's soft eyes were indeed
hard to bear. If he only knew the power thus exercised upon the fair
being beside him. But Lady Rosamond had kept her secret from the eye of
any living creature save herself. Captain Trevelyan must not discover
the fatal knowledge. He must never know. Still they conversed together,
talked together, and spent many hours together, having much opportunity
to fathom the depths of each other's heart. Lady Rosamond seemed
cheerful, content, and happy. Captain Trevelyan was apparently
light-hearted, pleasing, agreeable, and attentive. Each guest endeavored
to make the most of this friendly meeting. Even Lady Bereford strove to
forget her feelings and rally her former spirits and dignified
stateliness. Bereford Castle enjoyed a season of delight.

One lovely evening afterwards several voices mingled in the shrubbery
adjoining the garden. Maude was conversing in animated tones with Fanny
Trevelyan. Geoffrey Seymour had played truant to his lady love by
gallant attention to Mary Douglas.

In a remote corner, almost beyond hearing of these, and scarcely visible
through the foliage, were the forms of a lady and gentleman seated
beneath the sheltering branches of a stately elm. A nearer approach shows
the rising color of the rose-tinted cheeks--the glorious light in those
lovely eyes--the bewitching and irresistible smile. A manly voice is
heard exclaiming in the tones of a rapturous lover, "Rosamond, my own
darling, I never expected to realize such happiness. In the possession of
such love I am a thousandfold rewarded for a lifetime of misery. Yes, my
peerless Rosamond, the last half hour has amply repaid the torturing
pangs of a forlorn and hopeless love which I have suffered since first
beholding you." At this avowal the speaker leaned towards Lady Rosamond
Bereford, revealing the features of Captain Trevelyan. In a moment of
passionate fervor he had confessed his undying attachment to the lovely
Rosamond, and had received the blissful assurance of reciprocated love.
He was in possession of a happiness beyond description as he told the oft
repeated tale to his betrothed wife, listening to her voice as it fell
like music upon his ear. The fond kiss which sealed their vows was more
precious than the mines of Golconda. Truly did Guy Trevelyan idolize the
beautiful woman who had now surrendered her heart to his keeping.

Did Lady Rosamond tell _her_ secret to her accepted lover? Did she also
confess the love which had been cherished towards the boyish lieutenant
when he became almost a daily visitor at Government House--the maddening
thoughts, that almost crushed her out of existence--the spirit of
rebellion against the designs of her loved parents--her resolution made
to Lady Douglas--her bitter struggle between duty and feeling--strength
of character--victory over self--devotion to her husband?

This is _our_ secret, and we will never reveal it. The reader must be
content to know that Captain Trevelyan was made happy beyond expectation
by whatever revelation or by what answer. Truly they were

    "Two souls with but a single thought,
     Two hearts that beat as one."

Let us assume the garb of the seer and step stealthily over the distance
dividing the future, and gently draw aside the veil! What meets our
gaze? A beautiful picture. The scene is now in Trevelyan Hall, where a
reception is being held to welcome the beautiful bride of Captain
Trevelyan--Lady Rosamond Trevelyan. Truly the peerless Rosamond. The
beauty of the latter never shone so resplendent. Love has brought its
unsurpassing charms. Love imparted life, brilliancy and soul to the face
of the bride. Captain Trevelyan gazed upon her as though such radiance
could scarcely be of earth. In the train of guests foremost stands Mary
Douglas, whose happiness is indeed great. She is certain of the love
existing between the newly-wedded pair, therefore reflects happiness
from the thought. Next in order follows Maude Bereford, whose smiling
face shows plainly the impress stamped upon her heart as she returns the
gaze of her handsome betrothed, whose love is entirely devoted to her,
save the tender attachment borne towards his sister Lady Rosamond
Trevelyan. And our little favorite Fanny? Yes. Fanny Trevelyan is there
in all her sweetness, engaging as ever, winning friends by every smile.
Her joy is great. Lady Trevelyan's matronly grace and beauty appears to
great advantage as she cast benign glances towards her daughter elect.
Lady Rosamond in her eyes is a woman worthy to be loved--worthy of a
mother's love. A group seated near, evidently in merry conversation,
attracts our attention. One is entertaining them with something of a
humorous character. The lively gestures and satirical smiles are
certainly those of Captain Douglas. Doubtless he is telling of
some sport which he enjoyed at the expense of Mr. Howe and Lieutenant
Trevelyan in the field, barracks, or drawing-room, when in Fredericton.
Charles Douglas, the handsome, brave, and generous son of Sir Howard,
still proudly wears his former reputation unsullied and undimmed. His
heart is ever ready to do an act of kindness for a fellow creature.
Beloved, honored, and respected, he is worthy of his distinguished sire.
Ah! we see another familiar form and face. Leaning beside an open window
is that of a dear old friend, apparently occupied in studying the varied
expressions of the happy bridegroom, and vainly trying to discover that
puzzled one which had given so much concern on former occasions. The
faithful friend of the young lieutenant of the 52nd has not forgotten to
pay his respects to the retired captain of the 81st and his lovely
bride. He had made a sacrifice to be present at an event which brought
such happiness to one in whom he had always taken such a deep interest.
Mr. Howe was indeed a happy, honored, and welcome guest. Many more are
to be observed standing, sitting, reclining, in groups and companies;
but as strange faces have no peculiar charm when feasting upon those of
our old acquaintances, we make no effort to introduce them. In our great
joy we had almost forgotten to recognize one of Lady Rosamond's warmest
adherents--one always in attendance upon her ladyship, ready to engage in
any fun, frolic, or excursion, in the direction of fields or woods--no
less a personage than John Douglas; no longer important Johnnie, but a
well-bred gentleman, hearty, jovial, merry, with bravery stamped upon
every lineament of his face. Some are missing. Sir Thomas Seymour has not
lived to see this. Lady Bereford is also among the number. She has paid
her last debt.

Having brought before you most of those in whom you have no doubt became
interested, we now bid them all a tender adieu. It is hard to part with
friends who have shared our sorrow, our sympathy, and our joy, but in so
doing may our prayers follow each throughout time, hallowed by fond
memories of the past.

A second thought to Lady Rosamond before turning forever from the light
of her lovely smile. In her great happiness there are moments when holy
thoughts arise, having a purifying influence upon her life. She never
can forget the past, while the present begets the consciousness of
having trodden the paths of duty and right with firm, unfaltering steps,
never looking back until the goal was reached--the reward gained.

    "When life looks lone and dreary
     What light can dispel the gloom?
     When Time's swift wing grows weary
     What charm can refresh his plume?
     'Tis woman, whose sweetness beameth
     O'er all that we feel or see;
     And if man of heaven e'er dreameth
     'Tis when he thinks purely of thee,
            O woman!"





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