"You must go. I tell you to go!" The voice had the old authoritative ring, and it betrayed anger too, but Bert was not now to be daunted by it.
"I'll go, p'raps, when I've seen you," he said, "not before. You're my sister, and I mean to see you."
This unexpected self-assertion on Bert's part evidently discomfited Prin. There was a pause of some moments, and when she spoke again it was to suggest a compromise.
"I can't see you now, but I'll try to see you presently, if you're a good boy and do as I tell you. Go into the Park and sit on the seat nearest the gate, and I'll come to you there as soon as ever I can."
"All right," said Bert, becoming again an obedient subject. He rose from the pavement, and taking one last look at the house, walked slowly away.
Almost at the end of the street there was an entrance into the Park, doubtless the gate Prin had referred to. He went inside and found a comfortable seat on a bench in the shade. But the time was long, and he grew very hungry ere Prin appeared.
At last he saw her hurrying towards him, with the pucker on her forehead which he knew of old as a sign that she was "put out."
"Oh, here you are, Bert," she said as she approached. "Now then, what do you want?"
"Why, I want you, of course," cried Bert, amazed at the coolness of the question; "what else should I want? Do you forget that you've been away for months? I want to know how it is you are in London, and what you are doing in that big house, and when you are coming home."
"Home!" she repeated, in a tone of disgust. "Do you mean to that hole in the area?"