On the Brink of a Chasm by L.T. Meade — Read

It occurred to little Sir Piers that it would be a good thing if now, that he was quite well, he went home. As no one was inclined to take him, he thought he would go by himself. That would not be exactly breaking his secret, for surely if he were well he might go home to his mother and to Dick and to Barbara. He thought the matter over in the puzzled and yet wise way of seven years old. He did not wish to be unkind to his nurse or unkind to grannie, but, all the same, it seemed to him only fair that he should at least see the old place again, and behold his mother, if even at a distance, and see Barbara, the lady with the starry brown eyes, and Dick, the hero of his boyish dreams.

So when Mrs. Ives went to London Piers quickly made up his mind. He had no money, but he had a shrewd wit, a brave spirit, and a gentleman's heart. When darkness fell he left the cottage and walked quickly up the high road. Piers was dressed by Clara's orders just as any other peasant boy. He wore a shabby blouse, much worn knickerbockers, and socks which revealed his bare legs above them. His socks were blue, coarse homespun, his shoes were also coarse, and just what a village boy would wear.