ons on the brilliant
prospects of his only daughter. The event was eagerly anticipated in the
fashionable circles of high life. Many high-born maidens felt a tinge of
jealousy as they listened to the brilliant preparations awaiting the
marriage of the future Lord Bereford. His courtly manners, pleasing
graces, and handsome appearance, were the comment of many. His proud
privileges as peer of the realm, his princely castle and great wealth,
furnished themes for eulogy.
While the great event was pending, and general curiosity was awakened in
the course of proceedings, the Lady Rosamond alone remained passive. She
calmly listened to the different reports of those to whom was entrusted
the management of affairs with an ease that was perplexing in its
simplicity. A genial smile repaid any effort to please. She gave advice
with a gentle deference that surprised her most intimate friends and
companions. With calmness and subdued feelings did her ladyship examine
the costly satins and laces scattered in lavish profusion, and being in
readiness to assume the most courtly and elegant costumes at the
sanction of the fair enchantress. Maude Bereford was radiant with joy,
the delightful prospect was at hand. Bereford Castle was to receive her
dearest Rosamond. A splendid house was to be in readiness in the suburbs
of London, where she would revel in the delights of fashionable society
and the daily companionship of Lady Rosamond.
Gerald Bereford looked forward to the consummation of his hopes with
fond solicitude. Having received from Lady Rosamond a quiet appreciation
of his tenderness and deep love, he dared not to question closely the
motives which actuated her. Sometimes he had momentary doubts concerning
the entire reciprocation of her ladyship's trust and confidence, which
caused considerable anxiety, but the sweet, pensive smile which asserted
itself was sufficient to drive out a host of smothered grievances.
When Lady Rosamond promised to become the wife of Gerald Bereford she
did so from a true sense of duty and affection towards her only parent.
For him she would make the great sacrifice. Did the occasion demand, she
would sacrifice her life on his behalf. In reality she had made such a
test of her faith when she made her betrothal vow, bartering love,
happiness, and life. Yes; life, with its true enjoyments, by this
sacrifice, would become a mocking, bitter trial, to which even death
were gladly welcome. Yet the nobl
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