Miss Belinda Belford, the daughter and only child of Colonel William Belford, was a young lady possessed of no small pretensions to personal charms of the most exalted order.  Indeed, many excellent judges in such matters regarded her, without doubt, as the reigning belle of the Northern Colonies.  Of a medium height, of a slight but generously rounded figure, she bore herself with an indescribable grace and dignity of carriage.  Her hair, which was occasionally permitted to curl in ringlets upon her snowy neck, was of a brown so dark and so soft as at times to deceive the admiring observer into a belief that it was black.  Her eyes, likewise of a dark-brown color, were of a most melting and liquid lustre; her nose, though slight, was sufficiently high, and modelled with so exquisite a delicacy as to lend an exceeding charm to her whole countenance.  She was easily the belle of every assembly which she graced with her presence, and her name was the toast of every garrison town of the Northern provinces.

Madam Belford and her lovely daughter were engaged one pleasant morning in entertaining a number of friends, in the genteel English manner, with a dish of tea and a bit of gossip.  Upon this charming company Colonel Belford suddenly intruded, his countenance displaying an excessive though not displeasing agitation.

“My dear! my dear!” he cried, “what a piece of news have I for you!  It is incredible and past all belief!  Who, ladies, do you suppose is here in New Hope?  Nay, you cannot guess; I shall have to enlighten you.  ’Tis none other than Frederick Dunburne, my lordship’s second son.  Yes, you may well look amazed.  I saw and spoke with him this very morning, and that not above a half-hour ago.  He is travelling incognito, but my brother Obadiah discovered his identity, and is now entertaining him at his new house upon the Point.  A large party of young officers from the garrison are there, all very gay with cards and dice, I am told.  My noble young gentleman knew me so soon as he clapped eyes upon me.  ‘This,’ says he, ’if I am not mistook, must be Colonel Belford, my father’s honored friend.’  He is,” exclaimed the speaker, “a most interesting and ingenuous youth, with extremely lively and elegant manners, and a person exactly resembling that of his dear and honored father.”

It may be supposed into what a flutter this piece of news cast those who heard it.  “My dear,” cried Madam Belford, as soon as the first extravagance of the general surprise had passed by to an easier acceptance of Colonel Belford’s tidings—­“my dear, why did you not bring him with you to present him to us all?  What an opportunity have you lost!”

“Indeed, my dear,” said Colonel Belford, “I did not forget to invite him hither.  He protested that nothing could afford him greater pleasure, did he not have an engagement with some young gentlemen from the garrison.  But, believe me, I would not let him go without a promise.  He is to dine with us to-morrow at two; and, Belinda, my dear”—­here Colonel Belford pinched his daughter’s blushing cheek—­“you must assume your best appearance for so serious an occasion.  I am informed that my noble gentleman is extremely particular in his tastes in the matter of female excellence.”