, as it were, divest himself of earthy material and
live in the ethereal essence of divine communion. In those flights of
bliss the loved form of Lady Rosamond was ever near. Her presence
hallowed the path whereon he trod. None others invaded the sanctity of
this realm of dreams. One soul was there--one being--alas! to wake in
one realty.

Mary Douglas was at all times a true sympathizer. She always took a deep
interest in her friend Guy. She liked to sit beside him and recall
little scenes wherein Lady Rosamond took part. Her merry ringing laugh
showed the purity of the mind within. Together they spent many hours in
interesting and amusing conversation. Not a thought save that of true
friendship entered the mind of either. From this alone arose the full
confidence alike reposed in each. Mary Douglas was even more beautiful
than Lady Rosamond. Her features were formed as regularly as a model of
an Angelo; her expression might be a life-long study for a DaVinci, a
Rubens, or a Reynolds. Yet such beauty had not power to fan anew the
smouldering fire which consumed the vitality of Lieutenant Trevelyan's
existence. On the other hand this lovely girl saw not in her companion
anything that could create any feeling akin to love. Such was the entire
confidence thus reposed that they were amused at any trifling remarks of
those who daily summed up what evidence supported their conjectures.
Frequently Mr. Howe turned his attention to the affairs of the
unfortunate lieutenant, vainly wishing that such an attachment might be
formed and likewise reciprocated. He was certain of the fact that Guy
Trevelyan was worthy the hand of the most distinguished and beautiful. He
was aware that Sir Howard entertained the highest regard to the son of
his old friend Colonel Trevelyan who, as a baronet and gentleman, had a
reputation worthy his manly son. The arguments advanced by Mr. Howe were
by no means lessened when he wondered if Lady Rosamond could possibly
have gained the secret which possessed Guy Trevelyan. He held too high an
opinion of her ladyship to harbor the thought that she would triumph in
the conquest thus gained on the eve of her marriage with Gerald Bereford.
Ah no! Lady Rosamond could not have known it. So reasoned the thoughtful
secretary.

In the meantime Lady Rosamond is enjoying the constant whirl and gaiety
of London life. Her husband is immersed in the broil of parliamentary
affairs. As a representative of his native bor