Northover was full of apologies, but the Prince cut them short, and within a quarter of an hour they were all in the car and on the road to that goal of every British tourist, the battlefield of Waterloo. The autumn afternoon was perfect. The leaves had scarcely begun to turn, and the sun so hot that it might still have been August. Nellie's father was just as proud of the Prince's acquaintance as she was herself, while Mrs Northover was filled with pleasurable anticipations of going back to quiet, old-world Stamford--a place where nothing ever happens--and referring, in the hearing of her own tea-drinking circle, to "my friend Prince Albert." A week passed. Mr and Mrs Northover could not fail to notice how constantly the Prince was in Nellie's society. Only once, however, did her father mention it to his wife, and then in confidence. "Nellie seems much struck by the Prince, don't you think? And I'm sure he admires her. He's such a good fellow. I like him. I suppose it's a mere harmless flirtation--and it amuses them both." "Fancy, if she became Princess of Hesse-Holstein, James!" But James Northover only grunted dubiously. He was ignorant of the truth; ignorant of the fact that on the previous night, while they had been taking a stroll along the boulevard after dinner, the Prince, who had been walking with Nellie, had actually whispered to her a declaration of love. It had all been done so secretly. The pair had been following a little distance behind her worthy parents, and in the star-lit night he had pressed her hand. He had told her hurriedly, whispering low, how fondly he had loved her from the very first moment they had met. How devoted he was to her, and declaring that no woman had ever touched the chord of love in his heart as she had done. "To-morrow, dearest, we shall part," he whispered; "but before we do so will you not give me one word of hope--hope that you may some day be mine! Tell me, can you ever reciprocate my love?" he whispered in deep earnestness, as he bent to her, still holding her little hand in his strong grip as they walked. For a few moments she was silent; her dimpled chin sank upon her breast. He felt her quivering with emotion, and as the light of a gas-lamp fell across her beautiful face he saw tears in her eyes. She turned to him and lifted her gaze to his. Then he knew the truth without her spoken word. She was his--his own! "We will keep our secret, dearest," he said presently. "No one must know. For family reasons it must not yet leak out. Think how lonely I shall be at this hour to-morrow--when you have left!" "And I also," she sobbed. "You know--you must have seen--that I love you!"