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

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

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

Let us assume the garb of the seer and step stealthily over the distance dividing the future, and gently draw aside the veil!  What meets our gaze?  A beautiful picture.  The scene is now in Trevelyan Hall, where a reception is being held to welcome the beautiful bride of Captain Trevelyan—­Lady Rosamond Trevelyan.  Truly the peerless Rosamond.  The beauty of the latter never shone so resplendent.  Love has brought its unsurpassing charms.  Love imparted life, brilliancy and soul to the face of the bride.  Captain Trevelyan gazed upon her as though such radiance could scarcely be of earth.  In the train of guests foremost stands Mary Douglas, whose happiness is indeed great.  She is certain of the love existing between the newly-wedded pair, therefore reflects happiness from the thought.  Next in order follows Maude Bereford, whose smiling face shows plainly the impress stamped upon her heart as she returns the gaze of her handsome betrothed, whose love is entirely devoted to her, save the tender attachment borne towards his sister Lady Rosamond Trevelyan.  And our little favorite Fanny?  Yes.  Fanny Trevelyan is there in all her sweetness, engaging as ever, winning friends by every smile.  Her joy is great.  Lady Trevelyan’s matronly grace and beauty appears to great advantage as she cast benign glances towards her daughter elect.  Lady Rosamond in her eyes is a woman worthy to be loved—­worthy of a mother’s love.  A group seated near, evidently in merry conversation, attracts our attention.  One is entertaining them with something of a humorous character.  The lively gestures and satirical smiles are certainly those of Captain Douglas.  Doubtless he is telling of some sport which he enjoyed at the expense of Mr. Howe and Lieutenant Trevelyan in the field, barracks, or drawing-room, when in Fredericton.  Charles Douglas, the handsome, brave, and generous son of Sir Howard, still proudly wears his former reputation unsullied and undimmed.  His heart is ever ready to do an act of kindness for a fellow creature.  Beloved, honored, and respected, he is worthy of his distinguished sire.  Ah! we see another familiar form and face.  Leaning beside an open window is that of a dear old friend, apparently