Of course she was very, very young, but already from him she had realized that it is impossible even to regenerate mankind and give it political and religious freedom without the help of money.

Prince Amede d’Orleans himself was passing rich:  the fact that he chose to hide in a lonely English village and to live as a poor man would live, was only a part of his schemes.  For the moment, too, owing to that ever-present vengefulness of the King of France, his estates and revenues were under sequestration.  All this Sue understood full well, and it added quite considerably to her joy to think that soon she could relieve the patriot and hero from penury, and that the news that she could do so would be a glad surprise for him.

Nor must Lady Sue Aldmarshe on this account be condemned for an ignorant or a vain fool.  Though she was close on twenty-one years of age, she had had absolutely no experience of the world or of mankind:  all she knew of either 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.