interruption. She was preparing some tokens of regard for different
members of the family. Many chaste and valuable articles had been
received from home for this purpose, but she wished to make some choice
trinkets as her own work. Many times she had stolen a half-hour to
devote to this labor of love. An elegant silk purse had been netted for
Lady Douglas. For Mary Douglas she is engaged on a prettily-designed
portfolio. None were forgotten, not even Sir Howard, who was the
recipient of a neat dressing-case. As Lady Rosamond's deft fingers
wrought upon each article her mind was busy upon a far different, and,
to her, important matter. She longed for sympathy and advice. Her father
gave himself little concern regarding her ambiguously-written message.
He saw that his daughter was somewhat cold and indifferent to her
cousin's preference, but he expected that, on her return, she would
readily agree to anything which met his approval. Not wishing to repeat
the sentiment of the letter thus described, Sir Thomas Seymour had
considered moderation as the surest hope of success. Having thus
expressed his opinion to Lady Bereford, the Admiral was assured and
confident. On this Christmas season he had selected a costly locket,
studded with diamonds, as a gift to Lady Rosamond, and dwelt, with
loving pride, upon the many gentle qualities of the lovely girl; her
happy prospects as Lady Bereford, adored by a fond husband, beloved by
all.

Happy Lady Rosamond! in thy busy thoughts. Dared we venture for thee an
encouraging word, it would be "Every cloud has a silver lining."

Christmas eve was a scene of stir and excitement. Though work was done
in a systematic manner, the unusual tasks of labor and love were
hurrying upon each other with increasing rapidity. The servant's hall
was not to be passed over at this joyous time. Everyone, both family and
servants, shared in the festivity. How the graceful form of Mary Douglas
flew from room to room, arranging some pleasing surprise, planning some
little act of courtesy or civility. The housekeeper's room, stealthily
invaded by bribing another domestic, becomes the hiding place of a
handsome lace cap. Each maid finds under her pillow a sovereign and some
little trinket, as a ribbon, scarf or work box.

These were happy moments in the life of Mary Douglas. In the performance
of such acts of goodness she was truly happy. This lovely girl was
possessed of the united virtues of Sir Howard and