efore she had well left her school-books. But
to all these offers, dazzling enough to a merchant's daughter, Elizabeth
turned a deaf, if dainty ear. "It is not me they want," she would
laughingly say, "but my father's money. I shall live and die, like the
good Queen, my namesake, a maid."

And so has many another much-sought maiden said in the pride of an
untouched heart; but to them as to her the "Prince Charming," before
whom all her defences crumble, comes at last. In Elizabeth Spencer's
case, the conquering prince was William, second Lord Compton, one of the
handsomest, most accomplished and fascinating young men in London. In
person, as in position, he was alike unimpeachable--an ideal suitor to
win even the richest heiress in England; and it is little wonder that
the heart of the tradesman's daughter began to flutter, and her pretty
cheeks to flame when this gallant, whose conquests at the Royal Court
itself were notorious, began to pay marked homage to her charms.

That his reputation in the field of love was none of the best, that he
was as prodigal as he was poor, mattered little to her--probably such
defects made him all the more romantic in her eyes, and his attentions
all the more welcome. To Sir John, however, who was even more jealous of
his treasure than of all his gold, the young lord's reputation and,
above all, his poverty were fatal flaws in any would-be son-in-law of
his. As soon as he realised the danger he put every obstacle in the way
of his daughter's silly romance, even to the extent, it is said, of
locking her in her room, and closing his door in the face of her lover.
"If your reputation, my lord, were equal to your rank," he told him in
no ambiguous terms; "and if your fortune matched your family, I should
have naught to say against your suit. But as it is, I tell you frankly,
I would rather see my girl dead than wedded to such as you."

To his daughter's tears and pleading he was equally obdurate. She might
ask anything else of him and he would grant it gladly, though it were
half his wealth; but he would be unworthy to be her father if he
encouraged such folly as this. But Spencer's daughter, when she found
conciliatory measures of no avail, proved that she had a will as strong
as her father's; she told him to his face that with or without his
sanction she meant to be my Lady Compton. "I will marry him," she
declared with flushed face and panting breast, "even if you make me a
beggar." "A