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.