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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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