service. Near the young lady stands a gentleman in the act of pulling
off the hood to see her face. On the opposite side is another young girl
in the person of Mary Douglas, in full evening dress, pointing to the
hood, and laughing at its old and peculiar shape.

Much applause greeted the actors upon the success of these parts, but
the crowning scene was the third and last--the united terms of the
preceding ones. The effect was grand beyond description. The scene was
supposed to be the great hall of Kenilworth, hung with silken tapestry,
lit with numerous torches. The odor of choicest perfumes fell upon the
senses, while soft strains of music floated in the distance. In the
centre of the background forming this magnificent apartment was a chair
of state, with canopy in imitation of a throne, and covered with rich
drapery, on which is seated one personating Queen Elizabeth, whose smile
is resting upon the courtly form of Walter Raleigh, upon whom she is in
the act of conferring knighthood. Grouped around the throne are
characters representing the Earls of Leicester, Essex, Oxford,
Huntingdon, and a train of lords and ladies, conspicuous among whom was
the Duchess of Rutland, the favorite maid of honor in Her Majesty's
household. The character of Elizabeth was sustained by Lady Rosamond,
arrayed in queenly robes and blazing with jewels.

"She looks every inch a queen," exclaimed one of the spectators.

"The young knight's heart is in a dangerous situation," said another.

"Beware, Sir Walter," said a third; "Essex and Leicester are dangerous
rivals, especially the latter."

Kneeling with courtly grace was Lieutenant Trevelyan in the role of Sir