"'Tis over,
The valse, the quadrille, and the song,
The whispered farewell of the lover;
The heartless adieu of the throng,
The heart that was throbbing with pleasure;
The eyelid that longed for repose,
The beaux that were dreaming of treasure.
The girls that were dreaming of beaux."
--Edward Firzgerald.

Before they got to the Tremaines' house, Bertie drove up with Miss Lilla,
who was "quite dry now, thank you; not worth while bringing all the
sleighs up to the door." More than one curious observer noticed the
panting flanks of the horse, who scarcely looked as if he had been
resting in a stable. To be sure, the delinquents _had_ done that last
mile rather fast, to nick in and meet the party before they should make
inconvenient inquiries at Mr. Tremaine's,--Bertie, who was as good a
mimic as his mother, enhancing the fright of his fair companion by an
improvisation of the scene that would probably take place supposing
they were too late to prevent it, and further convulsing her with a
travesty of his brother-in-law in his most imposing attitude of stately
displeasure.

Lilla nearly had a relapse when they met the rest, as Colonel Rolleston's
face was the faithful reproduction of Bertie's five minutes before; but
the ironical silence with which he received her speech, rather diminished
their triumph at having escaped detection. The girls were all to return
to "The Maples," dress there, and go to the dinner and dance at the
barracks, under Mrs. Rolleston's sole chaperonage.

The scrambling toilette was got through with much noise and merriment.

"Oh, has any one seen my 'waist'?" and "Do smooth my waterfall," were
enigmatical exclamations of frequent occurrence. Cecil's dormitory
resembled a milliner's show-room from the variety of dresses spread on
the bed.

These were not of a very extravagant description; papery pink or green
silk seemed most in vogue, completed with rows of beads round the throat;
but when viewed in connexion with the apple-blossom complexions, abundant
hair and dancing eyes of the Canadian belles, the adventitious aids of
dress might well be deemed as superfluous as painting the lily.

Half-a dozen covered sleighs, going and returning, transported the party
to the barracks, where, escorted by their military hosts, they ascended
the staircase, banked with evergreens, and lined by motionless soldiers
to the ante-room, which, of course