"Why, there you've got it. We're going to Buckingham Palace in a donkey cart and pretty quick about it. You'll be ashamed of such fine people, Alb--father says so. So I'm not to speak to you to begin with--not till the dresses come home from Covent Garden and the horses are pawing the ground for her lidyship. That's the chorus all day--lots of fun when the bricks come home and father with a watch-chain as big as Moses. He knew you were going to get the sack and he warned me against it. 'We can't afford to associate with those people nowadays'--don't yer know--'so mind what you're a-doing, my child.' And I'm minding it all day--I was just minding it when you came in, Alb. Don't you see her lidyship is taking mutton chops? Couldn't descend to nothink less, my dear--not on such a day as this--blimme." Lois' patter, acquired in the streets, invariably approached the purely vulgar when she was either angry or annoyed--for at other times her nationality saved her from many of its penalties. Alban quite understood that something beyond ordinary must have passed between father and daughter to-day; but this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. "We'll meet outside the Pav to-night and have a good talk, Lois," he said; "everybody's listening here. Be there at nine sharp. Who knows, it may be the last time we shall ever meet in London--" "You're not going away, Alb?" A look of terror had come into the pretty eyes; the frail figure of the girl trembled as she asked the question. "Can't say, Lois--how do I know? Suppose I went as a sailor--" Lois laughed louder than before. "You--a blueboy! Lord, how you make me laugh. Fancy the aristocrat being ordered about. Oh, my poor funny-bone! Wouldn't you knock the man down that did it--oh, can't I see him." The idea amused her immensely and she dwelt upon it even in the street outside. Her Alb as Captain Jack--or should it be the cabin-boy. And, of course, he would bring her a parrot from the Brazils and perhaps a monkey. "An' I'll keep a light in the winder for fear you should be shipwrecked in High Street, Alb, and won't we go hornpiping together. Oh, you silly boy; oh, you dear old Captain Jack--whatever put a sailorman into your mind?" "The water," said Alban, as stolidly--"it leads to somewhere, Lois. This is the road to nowhere--good God, how tired I am of it." "And of those who go with you, Alb." "I am ashamed of myself because of them, Lois." "You silly boy, Alb--are they ashamed, Alb? Oh, no, no--people who love are never ashamed."