r had been conceived in the imaginings of her own romantic brain.

Her entire childhood, her youth and maidenhood had gone by in silent and
fanciful dreamings, whilst one of the greatest conflicts the world had
ever known was raging between men of the same kith and the same blood.
The education of women--even of those of rank and wealth--was avowedly
upon a very simple plan. Most of the noble ladies of that time knew not
how to spell--most of them were content to let the world go by them,
without giving it thought or care, others had accomplished prodigies of
valor, of heroism, aye! and of determination to help their brothers,
husbands, fathers during the worst periods of the civil war.

But Sue had been too young when these same prodigies were being
accomplished, and her father died before she had reached the age when
she could take an active part in the great questions of the day. A
mother she had never known, she had no brothers and sisters. A brief
time under the care of an old aunt and a duenna in a remote Surrey
village, and her stay at Pegwell Court under Sir Marmaduke's
guardianship, was all that she had ever seen of life.

Prince Amede d'Orleans was the embodiment of all her dreams--or nearly
so! The real hero of her dreams had been handsomer, and also more gentle
and more trusting, but on the whole, he had not been one whit more
romantic in his personality and his doings.

The manner in which he received the news that unbeknown to him, he had
been wooing one of the richest brides in the land, was characteristic of
him. He seemed boundlessly disappointed.

It was a beautiful clear night and she could see his face quite
distinctly, and could note how its former happy expression was marred
suddenly by a look of sorrow. He owned to being disappointed. He had
loved the idea, so he explained, of taking her to him, just as she was,
beautiful beyond compare, but penniless--having only her exquisite self
to give.

Oh! the joy after that of coaxing him back to smiles! the pride of
proving herself his Egeria for the nonce, teaching him how to look upon
wealth merely as a means for attaining his great ends, for continuing
his great work.

It had been perhaps the happiest evening in her short life of love.

For that day at Dover now only seemed a dream. The hurried tramp to the
main road in a torrent of pouring rain: the long drive in the stuffy
chaise, the arrival just in time for the brief--very brief--ceremony i