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. "I want to have an excuse for going up to Stamford, but don't see well how it can be managed," remarked the Prince pensively, between whiffs of his cigarette. "With my assistance it might, my dear boy," replied the Reverend Thomas. "It wants a little thinking over. You're a prince, remember." "Yes," sighed the other wearily. "That's just the confounded difficulty. I wonder what the world would say if they knew my secret?" "Say?" and the clergyman pulled a wry face. "Why bother about what the world thinks? I never do." "Yes. But you're a parson, and a parson can do practically just what he likes." "As long as he's popular with his parishioners." And it was not till near midnight, after a dainty snack of supper, served in the Prince's sitting-room, that the pair parted. A fortnight later Mr James Northover was agreeably impressed to receive a letter from the Prince stating that a great friend of his, the Rev Thomas Clayton, of St Ethelburga's, Bayswater, was staying in Stamford, convalescent after an illness, and that he was coming to visit him. The Northover household was thrown into instant confusion. Its head was for inviting the Prince to stay with them, but Mrs Northover and Nellie both declared that he would be far more comfortable at the Stamford Hotel, or at the "George." Besides, he was a prince, and Alice, the cook, could not possibly do things as was his Highness's habit to have them done. So a telegram was sent to the Carlton saying that the Northovers were most delighted at the prospect of seeing the Prince again.