It was hard work, but Frank kept his word, trying to be more energetic than ever over his duties, and finding that he was not passing unnoticed, for every morning the Prince gave him a quiet look of recognition, or a friendly nod, but never once spoke.
The most painful part of his life in those days was in his visits to his mother. These were agony to him, feeling as he did more and more how utterly insignificant and helpless he was; but he had one satisfaction to keep him going and make him look forward longingly for the next meeting—paradoxical as it may sound—so as to suffer more agony and despair, for he could plainly see that his mother clung to him now as her only stay, and that she was happiest when he was with her, and begged and prayed of him to come back to her as soon as he possibly could, now that she was so weak and ill.
“I believe, my darling,” she whispered one evening, “that I should have died if you had not been here.”
“Yes, my lad,” said the Princess’s physician to him as well; “you must be with Lady Gowan as much as you can. Her illness is mental, and you can do more for her now than I can. Ha—ha! I shall have to resign my post to you.”
“Yes,” said the boy to himself, “Captain Murray is quite right;” and he went straight to his friend’s quarters, as he often did, to give him an account of his mother’s state.
“Yes, sir,” he said; “you were quite right: it would have killed her if I had gone away.”
“Come, you are beginning to believe in me, Frank. Now I have some news for you.”
“About Drew Forbes?” cried Frank eagerly.
“No; I have made all the inquiries I can, but I can hear nothing of the poor fellow. His father is with yours; but the lad seems to have dropped out of sight, and I have my fears.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” cried Frank excitedly; “he was so young.”