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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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