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.