between her screams she
shrieked:

'Common children! I am glad, glad, glad! Common children! Common
children!'

The nasty lady then remarked--'Go at once, or I will send for the
police!'

So we went. H. O. made a face at her and so did Alice, but Oswald took
off his cap and said he was sorry if she was annoyed about anything;
for Oswald has always been taught to be polite to ladies, however nasty.
Dicky took his off, too, when he saw me do it; he says he did it first,
but that is a mistake. If I were really a common boy I should say it was
a lie.

Then we all came away, and when we got outside Dora said, 'So she was
really a Princess. Fancy a Princess living _there_!'

'Even Princesses have to live somewhere,' said Dicky.

'And I thought it was play. And it was real. I wish I'd known! I should
have liked to ask her lots of things,' said Alice.

H. O. said he would have liked to ask her what she had for dinner and
whether she had a crown.

I felt, myself, we had lost a chance of finding out a great deal about
kings and queens. I might have known such a stupid-looking little girl
would never have been able to pretend, as well as that.

So we all went home across the Heath, and made dripping toast for tea.

When we were eating it Noel said, 'I wish I could give _her_ some! It is
very good.'

He sighed as he said it, and his mouth was very full, so we knew he was
thinking of his Princess. He says now that she was as beautiful as the
day, but we remember her quite well, and she was nothing of the kind.

CHAPTER 7. BEING BANDITS

Noel was quite tiresome for ever so long after we found the Princess. He
would keep on wanting to go to the Park when the rest of us didn't, and
though we went several times to please him, we never found that door
open again, and all of us except him knew from the first that it would
be no go.

So now we thought it was time to do something to rouse him from the
stupor of despair, which is always done to heroes when anything baffling
has occurred. Besides, we were getting very short of money again--the
fortunes of your house cannot be restored (not so that they will last,
that is), even by the one pound eight we got when we had the 'good
hunting.' We spent a good deal of that on presents for Father's
birthday. We got him a paper-weight, like a glass bun, with a picture
of Lewisham Church at the bottom; and a blotting-pad, and a box of
preserved fruits, and an ivory penholder wi