At that moment her mother turned to look back, and consequently they both instantly assumed an attitude of utter unconcern. And next afternoon when he saw the three off from the Gare du Nord by the Harwich service, neither the estimable Northover, nor his rather obese spouse, had the slightest idea of the true secret of the two young hearts.
Nellie grasped her lover’s hand in adieu. Their eyes met for a single instant, and it was all-sufficient. Each trusted the other implicitly. It was surely a charming love-idyll between prince and school-girl.
His Highness remained in Brussels for about three weeks, then crossed to London. He stayed at the Carlton, where, on the night of his arrival, he was visited by the rather ruddy-faced jovial-looking clergyman, the Reverend Thomas Clayton.
It was Charles who announced him, saying in an abrupt manner:
“The Parson’s called, your Highness.”
“Show him in,” was the Prince’s reply. “I was expecting him.”
The greeting between Prince Albert and his old clerical friend was hearty, and the two men spent a couple of hours over whisky and sodas and cigarettes, chatting confidentially.
“You’re in love with her, Prince!” laughed his reverend friend.
“Yes, I really and honestly believe I am,” the other admitted, “and especially so, after your report.”
“My inquiries were perfectly satisfactory,” the clergyman said.