Her father's smile was of more value to his gifted daughters than the most flattering attention from the many admirers who vainly tried to receive the slightest sign of encouragement.
That Lady Rosamond often longed for the happy and contented hours of her companion--for a like participation of uninterrupted and halcyon days, should form no ground for surprise.

"How I should like to tell Mary my trouble and receive her sweet counsel," murmured the sad girl.

"I should feel the burden lighter to bear, but it would seem almost a sacrilege to invade upon such quiet harmony, for, with her sweet sympathizing nature, I know that Mary would grieve over my sorrow.

Dear girl, your Christmas shall not be clouded by me," soliloquized Lady Rosamond, "I love you too deeply to wish you care like mine.

Ah, no, Mary darling, may you never know the depth of sorrow such as mine." Lady Rosamond stood before her mirror to place a tiny rosebud in the raven hair that encircled her stately head in luxuriant coils.