He knew that Prin had long ere this quitted London. He had paid another visit to the house near Park Lane, and had seen by its closed, deserted appearance that the family was away. Prin was not likely to return to London for many months to come, and still less likely was it that when she came, she would want him; yet Bert clung to the place where they had lived together during the few months that had elapsed after their father's death until the Princess fell ill. The unreasoning instinct of a faithful, loving heart held him there.
It was the close of a fervid day in September. In the country, the trees were beginning to glow with the brilliant hues which tell of the summer's decline; but in London only such tokens as the cry of "sweet lavender," or the display of mellow pears and early apples on the barrows of the costermongers, testified to the waning of the season. It was hotter than it had been in June. Though the sun had set, the baked pavements and walls still gave forth heat, and there was no perceptible cooling of the atmosphere.
The unlovely life of the street in which Bert lived was being carried on mainly out of doors. The noise of brawling and strife, the shrill voices of children mingling with the cries of street vendors, made a continual hubbub there. Bert, having just returned from selling papers, sat at the top of the area steps with his back to the street, gazing down sadly at the empty room which had been occupied by Mr. Corney and Cetywayo. It was growing dusk, but the noise in the street only increased as daylight faded.
Bert was paying no heed to what went on behind him. Drunken quarrels and fights had ceased to interest him, and no one as a rule noticed him. He started, therefore, and turned round in fear as he felt a hand upon his shoulder.
A girl stood behind him. She was tall, and, even in the uncertain light, it was evident that she was attired in a style very different from that which marked the girls belonging to the street. But Bert could not see her face clearly, and he waited in blank surprise till she said,—
"Why, Bert, don't you know me? How stupid you are!"
It was the Princess! There was no mistaking her, though she spoke in a wonderfully subdued manner, and scarcely raised her voice above a whisper.
"Oh, Prin!" exclaimed Bert, his tone ringing with joy as he sprang up. "It's never you!"
"Hush!" she whispered imperiously. "Don't make such a noise! Let us get in quickly."