"Could I help loving him? I was just sixteen when we first met. I gave my heart to him. I adored him. He was worthy of it. I adore him yet. He is still more worthy of it." "But—but—he cannot marry you. He will not be allowed. Half-a-dozen kings and queens would rise up to prevent it—for I am sure I know the face." "Who is it, Jane? Whisper the words to me. Who is it, dear heart?" And Jane stooped to the face on the pillow and whispered, "_Prince Rupert_." And as the name fell on her ear, Matilda’s face grew heavenly sweet and tender, she smiled and sighed, and softly echoed Jane’s last word— "_Rupert_." *CHAPTER VII* *TWO LOVE AFFAIRS* "Justice, the Queen of Virtues! All other virtues dwell but in the blood, That in the soul; and gives the name of good." * * * * * "The wise and active conquer difficulties By daring to attempt them. Fear and Folly Shiver and shrink at sight of wrong and hazard, And make the impossibility they fear." Matilda’s confession brought on a conversation which lasted many hours. The seal of silence having been broken, the sick and sorrowful girl eagerly took the consolation her confidence procured her. She related with an impulsive frankness—often with bitter, though healing tears—the story of her love for the gallant Royalist leader. "He came first when I was yet a girl at my lessons," she said, "but my governess had told me such wonderful things of him, that he was like a god to me. You must know, Jane, that he is exceedingly tall and warlike, his black hair is cut straight across his brows, and flows in curls upon his shining armour. And he is always splendidly dressed." "Indeed, all have heard of his rich clothing; even the laced cravats are called after him." "See how people talk for nothing. Rupert’s laced cravat was a necessity, not a vanity. He told me himself, that being out very early drilling his men, he took a sore throat, and having no other covering, he drew his laced kerchief from his pocket and tied it round his neck. And his officers, seeing how well it became him, must needs also get themselves laced neckerchiefs, and then civilians, as is their way, followed the custom. But who could look as Rupert looked? the most beautiful, the most soldierlike man in England." "I might question that opinion, Matilda. I might say there is your brother Stephen—or——"