initial commit of ebook 479HEADmain

1 files changed, 6342 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/479-0.txt b/479-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a841543
--- /dev/null
+++ b/479-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6342 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 479 ***
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY
+
+
+By Frances Hodgson Burnett
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Cedric himself knew nothing whatever about it. It had never been even
+mentioned to him. He knew that his papa had been an Englishman, because
+his mamma had told him so; but then his papa had died when he was so
+little a boy that he could not remember very much about him, except that
+he was big, and had blue eyes and a long mustache, and that it was a
+splendid thing to be carried around the room on his shoulder. Since his
+papa's death, Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his
+mamma about him. When his father was ill, Cedric had been sent away, and
+when he had returned, everything was over; and his mother, who had
+been very ill, too, was only just beginning to sit in her chair by the
+window. She was pale and thin, and all the dimples had gone from her
+pretty face, and her eyes looked large and mournful, and she was dressed
+in black.
+
+“Dearest,” said Cedric (his papa had called her that always, and so the
+little boy had learned to say it),--“dearest, is my papa better?”
+
+He felt her arms tremble, and so he turned his curly head and looked in
+her face. There was something in it that made him feel that he was going
+to cry.
+
+“Dearest,” he said, “is he well?”
+
+Then suddenly his loving little heart told him that he'd better put both
+his arms around her neck and kiss her again and again, and keep his
+soft cheek close to hers; and he did so, and she laid her face on his
+shoulder and cried bitterly, holding him as if she could never let him
+go again.
+
+“Yes, he is well,” she sobbed; “he is quite, quite well, but we--we have
+no one left but each other. No one at all.”
+
+Then, little as he was, he understood that his big, handsome young papa
+would not come back any more; that he was dead, as he had heard of other
+people being, although he could not comprehend exactly what strange
+thing had brought all this sadness about. It was because his mamma
+always cried when he spoke of his papa that he secretly made up his mind
+it was better not to speak of him very often to her, and he found out,
+too, that it was better not to let her sit still and look into the fire
+or out of the window without moving or talking. He and his mamma knew
+very few people, and lived what might have been thought very lonely
+lives, although Cedric did not know it was lonely until he grew older
+and heard why it was they had no visitors. Then he was told that his
+mamma was an orphan, and quite alone in the world when his papa had
+married her. She was very pretty, and had been living as companion to a
+rich old lady who was not kind to her, and one day Captain Cedric Errol,
+who was calling at the house, saw her run up the stairs with tears on
+her eyelashes; and she looked so sweet and innocent and sorrowful that
+the Captain could not forget her. And after many strange things had
+happened, they knew each other well and loved each other dearly, and
+were married, although their marriage brought them the ill-will of
+several persons. The one who was most angry of all, however, was
+the Captain's father, who lived in England, and was a very rich and
+important old nobleman, with a very bad temper and a very violent
+dislike to America and Americans. He had two sons older than Captain
+Cedric; and it was the law that the elder of these sons should inherit
+the family title and estates, which were very rich and splendid; if the
+eldest son died, the next one would be heir; so, though he was a member
+of such a great family, there was little chance that Captain Cedric
+would be very rich himself.
+
+But it so happened that Nature had given to the youngest son gifts which
+she had not bestowed upon his elder brothers. He had a beautiful face
+and a fine, strong, graceful figure; he had a bright smile and a sweet,
+gay voice; he was brave and generous, and had the kindest heart in the
+world, and seemed to have the power to make every one love him. And it
+was not so with his elder brothers; neither of them was handsome,
+or very kind, or clever. When they were boys at Eton, they were not
+popular; when they were at college, they cared nothing for study, and
+wasted both time and money, and made few real friends. The old Earl,
+their father, was constantly disappointed and humiliated by them; his
+heir was no honor to his noble name, and did not promise to end in being
+anything but a selfish, wasteful, insignificant man, with no manly or
+noble qualities. It was very bitter, the old Earl thought, that the son
+who was only third, and would have only a very small fortune, should be
+the one who had all the gifts, and all the charms, and all the strength
+and beauty. Sometimes he almost hated the handsome young man because he
+seemed to have the good things which should have gone with the stately
+title and the magnificent estates; and yet, in the depths of his proud,
+stubborn old heart, he could not help caring very much for his youngest
+son. It was in one of his fits of petulance that he sent him off to
+travel in America; he thought he would send him away for a while, so
+that he should not be made angry by constantly contrasting him with his
+brothers, who were at that time giving him a great deal of trouble by
+their wild ways.
+
+But, after about six months, he began to feel lonely, and longed in
+secret to see his son again, so he wrote to Captain Cedric and ordered
+him home. The letter he wrote crossed on its way a letter the Captain
+had just written to his father, telling of his love for the pretty
+American girl, and of his intended marriage; and when the Earl received
+that letter he was furiously angry. Bad as his temper was, he had
+never given way to it in his life as he gave way to it when he read the
+Captain's letter. His valet, who was in the room when it came, thought
+his lordship would have a fit of apoplexy, he was so wild with anger.
+For an hour he raged like a tiger, and then he sat down and wrote to his
+son, and ordered him never to come near his old home, nor to write to
+his father or brothers again. He told him he might live as he pleased,
+and die where he pleased, that he should be cut off from his family
+forever, and that he need never expect help from his father as long as
+he lived.
+
+The Captain was very sad when he read the letter; he was very fond of
+England, and he dearly loved the beautiful home where he had been born;
+he had even loved his ill-tempered old father, and had sympathized with
+him in his disappointments; but he knew he need expect no kindness from
+him in the future. At first he scarcely knew what to do; he had not been
+brought up to work, and had no business experience, but he had courage
+and plenty of determination. So he sold his commission in the English
+army, and after some trouble found a situation in New York, and married.
+The change from his old life in England was very great, but he was young
+and happy, and he hoped that hard work would do great things for him in
+the future. He had a small house on a quiet street, and his little boy
+was born there, and everything was so gay and cheerful, in a simple way,
+that he was never sorry for a moment that he had married the rich old
+lady's pretty companion just because she was so sweet and he loved her
+and she loved him. She was very sweet, indeed, and her little boy was
+like both her and his father. Though he was born in so quiet and cheap a
+little home, it seemed as if there never had been a more fortunate baby.
+In the first place, he was always well, and so he never gave any one
+trouble; in the second place, he had so sweet a temper and ways so
+charming that he was a pleasure to every one; and in the third place,
+he was so beautiful to look at that he was quite a picture. Instead of
+being a bald-headed baby, he started in life with a quantity of soft,
+fine, gold-colored hair, which curled up at the ends, and went into
+loose rings by the time he was six months old; he had big brown eyes and
+long eyelashes and a darling little face; he had so strong a back and
+such splendid sturdy legs, that at nine months he learned suddenly to
+walk; his manners were so good, for a baby, that it was delightful to
+make his acquaintance. He seemed to feel that every one was his friend,
+and when any one spoke to him, when he was in his carriage in the
+street, he would give the stranger one sweet, serious look with the
+brown eyes, and then follow it with a lovely, friendly smile; and the
+consequence was, that there was not a person in the neighborhood of the
+quiet street where he lived--even to the groceryman at the corner, who
+was considered the crossest creature alive--who was not pleased to see
+him and speak to him. And every month of his life he grew handsomer and
+more interesting.
+
+When he was old enough to walk out with his nurse, dragging a small
+wagon and wearing a short white kilt skirt, and a big white hat set back
+on his curly yellow hair, he was so handsome and strong and rosy that he
+attracted every one's attention, and his nurse would come home and tell
+his mamma stories of the ladies who had stopped their carriages to look
+at and speak to him, and of how pleased they were when he talked to them
+in his cheerful little way, as if he had known them always. His greatest
+charm was this cheerful, fearless, quaint little way of making friends
+with people. I think it arose from his having a very confiding nature,
+and a kind little heart that sympathized with every one, and wished to
+make every one as comfortable as he liked to be himself. It made him
+very quick to understand the feelings of those about him. Perhaps this
+had grown on him, too, because he had lived so much with his father and
+mother, who were always loving and considerate and tender and well-bred.
+He had never heard an unkind or uncourteous word spoken at home; he had
+always been loved and caressed and treated tenderly, and so his childish
+soul was full of kindness and innocent warm feeling. He had always heard
+his mamma called by pretty, loving names, and so he used them himself
+when he spoke to her; he had always seen that his papa watched over her
+and took great care of her, and so he learned, too, to be careful of
+her.
+
+So when he knew his papa would come back no more, and saw how very
+sad his mamma was, there gradually came into his kind little heart the
+thought that he must do what he could to make her happy. He was not much
+more than a baby, but that thought was in his mind whenever he climbed
+upon her knee and kissed her and put his curly head on her neck, and
+when he brought his toys and picture-books to show her, and when he
+curled up quietly by her side as she used to lie on the sofa. He was not
+old enough to know of anything else to do, so he did what he could, and
+was more of a comfort to her than he could have understood.
+
+“Oh, Mary!” he heard her say once to her old servant; “I am sure he
+is trying to help me in his innocent way--I know he is. He looks at me
+sometimes with a loving, wondering little look, as if he were sorry for
+me, and then he will come and pet me or show me something. He is such a
+little man, I really think he knows.”
+
+As he grew older, he had a great many quaint little ways which amused
+and interested people greatly. He was so much of a companion for his
+mother that she scarcely cared for any other. They used to walk together
+and talk together and play together. When he was quite a little fellow,
+he learned to read; and after that he used to lie on the hearth-rug, in
+the evening, and read aloud--sometimes stories, and sometimes big books
+such as older people read, and sometimes even the newspaper; and often
+at such times Mary, in the kitchen, would hear Mrs. Errol laughing with
+delight at the quaint things he said.
+
+“And, indade,” said Mary to the groceryman, “nobody cud help laughin' at
+the quare little ways of him--and his ould-fashioned sayin's! Didn't
+he come into my kitchen the noight the new Prisident was nominated and
+shtand afore the fire, lookin' loike a pictur', wid his hands in his
+shmall pockets, an' his innocent bit of a face as sayrious as a jedge?
+An' sez he to me: 'Mary,' sez he, 'I'm very much int'rusted in the
+'lection,' sez he. 'I'm a 'publican, an' so is Dearest. Are you a
+'publican, Mary?' 'Sorra a bit,' sez I; 'I'm the bist o' dimmycrats!'
+An' he looks up at me wid a look that ud go to yer heart, an' sez he:
+'Mary,' sez he, 'the country will go to ruin.' An' nivver a day since
+thin has he let go by widout argyin' wid me to change me polytics.”
+
+Mary was very fond of him, and very proud of him, too. She had been with
+his mother ever since he was born; and, after his father's death, had
+been cook and housemaid and nurse and everything else. She was proud of
+his graceful, strong little body and his pretty manners, and especially
+proud of the bright curly hair which waved over his forehead and fell in
+charming love-locks on his shoulders. She was willing to work early and
+late to help his mamma make his small suits and keep them in order.
+
+“'Ristycratic, is it?” she would say. “Faith, an' I'd loike to see the
+choild on Fifth Avey-NOO as looks loike him an' shteps out as handsome
+as himself. An' ivvery man, woman, and choild lookin' afther him in his
+bit of a black velvet skirt made out of the misthress's ould gownd; an'
+his little head up, an' his curly hair flyin' an' shinin'. It's loike a
+young lord he looks.”
+
+Cedric did not know that he looked like a young lord; he did not
+know what a lord was. His greatest friend was the groceryman at the
+corner--the cross groceryman, who was never cross to him. His name was
+Mr. Hobbs, and Cedric admired and respected him very much. He thought
+him a very rich and powerful person, he had so many things in his
+store,--prunes and figs and oranges and biscuits,--and he had a
+horse and wagon. Cedric was fond of the milkman and the baker and the
+apple-woman, but he liked Mr. Hobbs best of all, and was on terms of
+such intimacy with him that he went to see him every day, and often sat
+with him quite a long time, discussing the topics of the hour. It was
+quite surprising how many things they found to talk about--the Fourth
+of July, for instance. When they began to talk about the Fourth of July
+there really seemed no end to it. Mr. Hobbs had a very bad opinion of
+“the British,” and he told the whole story of the Revolution, relating
+very wonderful and patriotic stories about the villainy of the enemy and
+the bravery of the Revolutionary heroes, and he even generously repeated
+part of the Declaration of Independence.
+
+Cedric was so excited that his eyes shone and his cheeks were red and
+his curls were all rubbed and tumbled into a yellow mop. He could hardly
+wait to eat his dinner after he went home, he was so anxious to tell
+his mamma. It was, perhaps, Mr. Hobbs who gave him his first interest
+in politics. Mr. Hobbs was fond of reading the newspapers, and so Cedric
+heard a great deal about what was going on in Washington; and Mr. Hobbs
+would tell him whether the President was doing his duty or not. And
+once, when there was an election, he found it all quite grand, and
+probably but for Mr. Hobbs and Cedric the country might have been
+wrecked.
+
+Mr. Hobbs took him to see a great torchlight procession, and many of the
+men who carried torches remembered afterward a stout man who stood near
+a lamp-post and held on his shoulder a handsome little shouting boy, who
+waved his cap in the air.
+
+It was not long after this election, when Cedric was between seven and
+eight years old, that the very strange thing happened which made so
+wonderful a change in his life. It was quite curious, too, that the
+day it happened he had been talking to Mr. Hobbs about England and
+the Queen, and Mr. Hobbs had said some very severe things about the
+aristocracy, being specially indignant against earls and marquises. It
+had been a hot morning; and after playing soldiers with some friends
+of his, Cedric had gone into the store to rest, and had found Mr. Hobbs
+looking very fierce over a piece of the Illustrated London News, which
+contained a picture of some court ceremony.
+
+“Ah,” he said, “that's the way they go on now; but they'll get enough
+of it some day, when those they've trod on rise and blow 'em up
+sky-high,--earls and marquises and all! It's coming, and they may look
+out for it!”
+
+Cedric had perched himself as usual on the high stool and pushed his
+hat back, and put his hands in his pockets in delicate compliment to Mr.
+Hobbs.
+
+“Did you ever know many marquises, Mr. Hobbs?” Cedric inquired,--“or
+earls?”
+
+“No,” answered Mr. Hobbs, with indignation; “I guess not. I'd like to
+catch one of 'em inside here; that's all! I'll have no grasping tyrants
+sittin' 'round on my cracker-barrels!”
+
+And he was so proud of the sentiment that he looked around proudly and
+mopped his forehead.
+
+“Perhaps they wouldn't be earls if they knew any better,” said Cedric,
+feeling some vague sympathy for their unhappy condition.
+
+“Wouldn't they!” said Mr. Hobbs. “They just glory in it! It's in 'em.
+They're a bad lot.”
+
+They were in the midst of their conversation, when Mary appeared.
+
+Cedric thought she had come to buy some sugar, perhaps, but she had not.
+She looked almost pale and as if she were excited about something.
+
+“Come home, darlint,” she said; “the misthress is wantin' yez.”
+
+Cedric slipped down from his stool.
+
+“Does she want me to go out with her, Mary?” he asked. “Good-morning,
+Mr. Hobbs. I'll see you again.”
+
+He was surprised to see Mary staring at him in a dumfounded fashion, and
+he wondered why she kept shaking her head.
+
+“What's the matter, Mary?” he said. “Is it the hot weather?”
+
+“No,” said Mary; “but there's strange things happenin' to us.”
+
+“Has the sun given Dearest a headache?” he inquired anxiously.
+
+But it was not that. When he reached his own house there was a coupe
+standing before the door and some one was in the little parlor talking
+to his mamma. Mary hurried him upstairs and put on his best summer
+suit of cream-colored flannel, with the red scarf around his waist, and
+combed out his curly locks.
+
+“Lords, is it?” he heard her say. “An' the nobility an' gintry. Och! bad
+cess to them! Lords, indade--worse luck.”
+
+It was really very puzzling, but he felt sure his mamma would tell him
+what all the excitement meant, so he allowed Mary to bemoan herself
+without asking many questions. When he was dressed, he ran downstairs
+and went into the parlor. A tall, thin old gentleman with a sharp face
+was sitting in an arm-chair. His mother was standing near by with a pale
+face, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes.
+
+“Oh! Ceddie!” she cried out, and ran to her little boy and caught him
+in her arms and kissed him in a frightened, troubled way. “Oh! Ceddie,
+darling!”
+
+The tall old gentleman rose from his chair and looked at Cedric with his
+sharp eyes. He rubbed his thin chin with his bony hand as he looked.
+
+He seemed not at all displeased.
+
+“And so,” he said at last, slowly,--“and so this is little Lord
+Fauntleroy.”
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+There was never a more amazed little boy than Cedric during the week
+that followed; there was never so strange or so unreal a week. In the
+first place, the story his mamma told him was a very curious one. He was
+obliged to hear it two or three times before he could understand it. He
+could not imagine what Mr. Hobbs would think of it. It began with earls:
+his grandpapa, whom he had never seen, was an earl; and his eldest
+uncle, if he had not been killed by a fall from his horse, would have
+been an earl, too, in time; and after his death, his other uncle would
+have been an earl, if he had not died suddenly, in Rome, of a fever.
+After that, his own papa, if he had lived, would have been an earl, but,
+since they all had died and only Cedric was left, it appeared that HE
+was to be an earl after his grandpapa's death--and for the present he
+was Lord Fauntleroy.
+
+He turned quite pale when he was first told of it.
+
+“Oh! Dearest!” he said, “I should rather not be an earl. None of the
+boys are earls. Can't I NOT be one?”
+
+But it seemed to be unavoidable. And when, that evening, they sat
+together by the open window looking out into the shabby street, he
+and his mother had a long talk about it. Cedric sat on his footstool,
+clasping one knee in his favorite attitude and wearing a bewildered
+little face rather red from the exertion of thinking. His grandfather
+had sent for him to come to England, and his mamma thought he must go.
+
+“Because,” she said, looking out of the window with sorrowful eyes, “I
+know your papa would wish it to be so, Ceddie. He loved his home very
+much; and there are many things to be thought of that a little boy can't
+quite understand. I should be a selfish little mother if I did not send
+you. When you are a man, you will see why.”
+
+Ceddie shook his head mournfully.
+
+“I shall be very sorry to leave Mr. Hobbs,” he said. “I'm afraid he'll
+miss me, and I shall miss him. And I shall miss them all.”
+
+When Mr. Havisham--who was the family lawyer of the Earl of Dorincourt,
+and who had been sent by him to bring Lord Fauntleroy to England--came
+the next day, Cedric heard many things. But, somehow, it did not console
+him to hear that he was to be a very rich man when he grew up, and that
+he would have castles here and castles there, and great parks and deep
+mines and grand estates and tenantry. He was troubled about his friend,
+Mr. Hobbs, and he went to see him at the store soon after breakfast, in
+great anxiety of mind.
+
+He found him reading the morning paper, and he approached him with a
+grave demeanor. He really felt it would be a great shock to Mr. Hobbs
+to hear what had befallen him, and on his way to the store he had been
+thinking how it would be best to break the news.
+
+“Hello!” said Mr. Hobbs. “Mornin'!”
+
+“Good-morning,” said Cedric.
+
+He did not climb up on the high stool as usual, but sat down on a
+cracker-box and clasped his knee, and was so silent for a few moments
+that Mr. Hobbs finally looked up inquiringly over the top of his
+newspaper.
+
+“Hello!” he said again.
+
+Cedric gathered all his strength of mind together.
+
+“Mr. Hobbs,” he said, “do you remember what we were talking about
+yesterday morning?”
+
+“Well,” replied Mr. Hobbs,--“seems to me it was England.”
+
+“Yes,” said Cedric; “but just when Mary came for me, you know?”
+
+Mr. Hobbs rubbed the back of his head.
+
+“We WAS mentioning Queen Victoria and the aristocracy.”
+
+“Yes,” said Cedric, rather hesitatingly, “and--and earls; don't you
+know?”
+
+“Why, yes,” returned Mr. Hobbs; “we DID touch 'em up a little; that's
+so!”
+
+Cedric flushed up to the curly bang on his forehead. Nothing so
+embarrassing as this had ever happened to him in his life. He was a
+little afraid that it might be a trifle embarrassing to Mr. Hobbs, too.
+
+“You said,” he proceeded, “that you wouldn't have them sitting 'round on
+your cracker-barrels.”
+
+“So I did!” returned Mr. Hobbs, stoutly. “And I meant it. Let 'em try
+it--that's all!”
+
+“Mr. Hobbs,” said Cedric, “one is sitting on this box now!”
+
+Mr. Hobbs almost jumped out of his chair.
+
+“What!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Yes,” Cedric announced, with due modesty; “_I_ am one--or I am going to
+be. I won't deceive you.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs looked agitated. He rose up suddenly and went to look at the
+thermometer.
+
+“The mercury's got into your head!” he exclaimed, turning back to
+examine his young friend's countenance. “It IS a hot day! How do you
+feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel that way?”
+
+He put his big hand on the little boy's hair. This was more embarrassing
+than ever.
+
+“Thank you,” said Ceddie; “I'm all right. There is nothing the matter
+with my head. I'm sorry to say it's true, Mr. Hobbs. That was what Mary
+came to take me home for. Mr. Havisham was telling my mamma, and he is a
+lawyer.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs sank into his chair and mopped his forehead with his
+handkerchief.
+
+“ONE of us has got a sunstroke!” he exclaimed.
+
+“No,” returned Cedric, “we haven't. We shall have to make the best of
+it, Mr. Hobbs. Mr. Havisham came all the way from England to tell us
+about it. My grandpapa sent him.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs stared wildly at the innocent, serious little face before him.
+
+“Who is your grandfather?” he asked.
+
+Cedric put his hand in his pocket and carefully drew out a piece of
+paper, on which something was written in his own round, irregular hand.
+
+“I couldn't easily remember it, so I wrote it down on this,” he
+said. And he read aloud slowly: “'John Arthur Molyneux Errol, Earl of
+Dorincourt.' That is his name, and he lives in a castle--in two or three
+castles, I think. And my papa, who died, was his youngest son; and I
+shouldn't have been a lord or an earl if my papa hadn't died; and my
+papa wouldn't have been an earl if his two brothers hadn't died. But
+they all died, and there is no one but me,--no boy,--and so I have to be
+one; and my grandpapa has sent for me to come to England.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs seemed to grow hotter and hotter. He mopped his forehead and
+his bald spot and breathed hard. He began to see that something very
+remarkable had happened; but when he looked at the little boy sitting on
+the cracker-box, with the innocent, anxious expression in his childish
+eyes, and saw that he was not changed at all, but was simply as he had
+been the day before, just a handsome, cheerful, brave little fellow in
+a blue suit and red neck-ribbon, all this information about the nobility
+bewildered him. He was all the more bewildered because Cedric gave it
+with such ingenuous simplicity, and plainly without realizing himself
+how stupendous it was.
+
+“Wha--what did you say your name was?” Mr. Hobbs inquired.
+
+“It's Cedric Errol, Lord Fauntleroy,” answered Cedric. “That was what
+Mr. Havisham called me. He said when I went into the room: 'And so this
+is little Lord Fauntleroy!'”
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Hobbs, “I'll be--jiggered!”
+
+This was an exclamation he always used when he was very much astonished
+or excited. He could think of nothing else to say just at that puzzling
+moment.
+
+Cedric felt it to be quite a proper and suitable ejaculation. His
+respect and affection for Mr. Hobbs were so great that he admired and
+approved of all his remarks. He had not seen enough of society as yet to
+make him realize that sometimes Mr. Hobbs was not quite conventional.
+He knew, of course, that he was different from his mamma, but, then, his
+mamma was a lady, and he had an idea that ladies were always different
+from gentlemen.
+
+He looked at Mr. Hobbs wistfully.
+
+“England is a long way off, isn't it?” he asked.
+
+“It's across the Atlantic Ocean,” Mr. Hobbs answered.
+
+“That's the worst of it,” said Cedric. “Perhaps I shall not see you
+again for a long time. I don't like to think of that, Mr. Hobbs.”
+
+“The best of friends must part,” said Mr. Hobbs.
+
+“Well,” said Cedric, “we have been friends for a great many years,
+haven't we?”
+
+“Ever since you was born,” Mr. Hobbs answered. “You was about six weeks
+old when you was first walked out on this street.”
+
+“Ah,” remarked Cedric, with a sigh, “I never thought I should have to be
+an earl then!”
+
+“You think,” said Mr. Hobbs, “there's no getting out of it?”
+
+“I'm afraid not,” answered Cedric. “My mamma says that my papa would
+wish me to do it. But if I have to be an earl, there's one thing I can
+do: I can try to be a good one. I'm not going to be a tyrant. And if
+there is ever to be another war with America, I shall try to stop it.”
+
+His conversation with Mr. Hobbs was a long and serious one. Once having
+got over the first shock, Mr. Hobbs was not so rancorous as might have
+been expected; he endeavored to resign himself to the situation, and
+before the interview was at an end he had asked a great many questions.
+As Cedric could answer but few of them, he endeavored to answer
+them himself, and, being fairly launched on the subject of earls and
+marquises and lordly estates, explained many things in a way which would
+probably have astonished Mr. Havisham, could that gentleman have heard
+it.
+
+But then there were many things which astonished Mr. Havisham. He had
+spent all his life in England, and was not accustomed to American people
+and American habits. He had been connected professionally with the
+family of the Earl of Dorincourt for nearly forty years, and he knew all
+about its grand estates and its great wealth and importance; and, in a
+cold, business-like way, he felt an interest in this little boy, who, in
+the future, was to be the master and owner of them all,--the future Earl
+of Dorincourt. He had known all about the old Earl's disappointment
+in his elder sons and all about his fierce rage at Captain Cedric's
+American marriage, and he knew how he still hated the gentle little
+widow and would not speak of her except with bitter and cruel words. He
+insisted that she was only a common American girl, who had entrapped
+his son into marrying her because she knew he was an earl's son. The
+old lawyer himself had more than half believed this was all true. He had
+seen a great many selfish, mercenary people in his life, and he had
+not a good opinion of Americans. When he had been driven into the cheap
+street, and his coupe had stopped before the cheap, small house, he had
+felt actually shocked. It seemed really quite dreadful to think that the
+future owner of Dorincourt Castle and Wyndham Towers and Chorlworth, and
+all the other stately splendors, should have been born and brought up in
+an insignificant house in a street with a sort of green-grocery at the
+corner. He wondered what kind of a child he would be, and what kind of a
+mother he had. He rather shrank from seeing them both. He had a sort of
+pride in the noble family whose legal affairs he had conducted so long,
+and it would have annoyed him very much to have found himself obliged to
+manage a woman who would seem to him a vulgar, money-loving person, with
+no respect for her dead husband's country and the dignity of his name.
+It was a very old name and a very splendid one, and Mr. Havisham had
+a great respect for it himself, though he was only a cold, keen,
+business-like old lawyer.
+
+When Mary handed him into the small parlor, he looked around it
+critically. It was plainly furnished, but it had a home-like look; there
+were no cheap, common ornaments, and no cheap, gaudy pictures; the few
+adornments on the walls were in good taste and about the room were many
+pretty things which a woman's hand might have made.
+
+“Not at all bad so far,” he had said to himself; “but perhaps the
+Captain's taste predominated.” But when Mrs. Errol came into the room,
+he began to think she herself might have had something to do with it. If
+he had not been quite a self-contained and stiff old gentleman, he would
+probably have started when he saw her. She looked, in the simple black
+dress, fitting closely to her slender figure, more like a young girl
+than the mother of a boy of seven. She had a pretty, sorrowful, young
+face, and a very tender, innocent look in her large brown eyes,--the
+sorrowful look that had never quite left her face since her husband had
+died. Cedric was used to seeing it there; the only times he had ever
+seen it fade out had been when he was playing with her or talking to
+her, and had said some old-fashioned thing, or used some long word he
+had picked up out of the newspapers or in his conversations with Mr.
+Hobbs. He was fond of using long words, and he was always pleased
+when they made her laugh, though he could not understand why they
+were laughable; they were quite serious matters with him. The lawyer's
+experience taught him to read people's characters very shrewdly, and
+as soon as he saw Cedric's mother he knew that the old Earl had made a
+great mistake in thinking her a vulgar, mercenary woman. Mr. Havisham
+had never been married, he had never even been in love, but he divined
+that this pretty young creature with the sweet voice and sad eyes
+had married Captain Errol only because she loved him with all her
+affectionate heart, and that she had never once thought it an advantage
+that he was an earl's son. And he saw he should have no trouble with
+her, and he began to feel that perhaps little Lord Fauntleroy might not
+be such a trial to his noble family, after all. The Captain had been a
+handsome fellow, and the young mother was very pretty, and perhaps the
+boy might be well enough to look at.
+
+When he first told Mrs. Errol what he had come for, she turned very
+pale.
+
+“Oh!” she said; “will he have to be taken away from me? We love each
+other so much! He is such a happiness to me! He is all I have. I have
+tried to be a good mother to him.” And her sweet young voice trembled,
+and the tears rushed into her eyes. “You do not know what he has been to
+me!” she said.
+
+The lawyer cleared his throat.
+
+“I am obliged to tell you,” he said, “that the Earl of Dorincourt
+is not--is not very friendly toward you. He is an old man, and his
+prejudices are very strong. He has always especially disliked America
+and Americans, and was very much enraged by his son's marriage. I am
+sorry to be the bearer of so unpleasant a communication, but he is
+very fixed in his determination not to see you. His plan is that Lord
+Fauntleroy shall be educated under his own supervision; that he shall
+live with him. The Earl is attached to Dorincourt Castle, and spends a
+great deal of time there. He is a victim to inflammatory gout, and is
+not fond of London. Lord Fauntleroy will, therefore, be likely to live
+chiefly at Dorincourt. The Earl offers you as a home Court Lodge, which
+is situated pleasantly, and is not very far from the castle. He also
+offers you a suitable income. Lord Fauntleroy will be permitted to visit
+you; the only stipulation is, that you shall not visit him or enter the
+park gates. You see you will not be really separated from your son, and
+I assure you, madam, the terms are not so harsh as--as they might
+have been. The advantage of such surroundings and education as Lord
+Fauntleroy will have, I am sure you must see, will be very great.”
+
+He felt a little uneasy lest she should begin to cry or make a scene,
+as he knew some women would have done. It embarrassed and annoyed him to
+see women cry.
+
+But she did not. She went to the window and stood with her face turned
+away for a few moments, and he saw she was trying to steady herself.
+
+“Captain Errol was very fond of Dorincourt,” she said at last. “He loved
+England, and everything English. It was always a grief to him that he
+was parted from his home. He was proud of his home, and of his name. He
+would wish--I know he would wish that his son should know the beautiful
+old places, and be brought up in such a way as would be suitable to his
+future position.”
+
+Then she came back to the table and stood looking up at Mr. Havisham
+very gently.
+
+“My husband would wish it,” she said. “It will be best for my little
+boy. I know--I am sure the Earl would not be so unkind as to try to
+teach him not to love me; and I know--even if he tried--that my little
+boy is too much like his father to be harmed. He has a warm, faithful
+nature, and a true heart. He would love me even if he did not see me;
+and so long as we may see each other, I ought not to suffer very much.”
+
+“She thinks very little of herself,” the lawyer thought. “She does not
+make any terms for herself.”
+
+“Madam,” he said aloud, “I respect your consideration for your son. He
+will thank you for it when he is a man. I assure you Lord Fauntleroy
+will be most carefully guarded, and every effort will be used to insure
+his happiness. The Earl of Dorincourt will be as anxious for his comfort
+and well-being as you yourself could be.”
+
+“I hope,” said the tender little mother, in a rather broken voice, “that
+his grandfather will love Ceddie. The little boy has a very affectionate
+nature; and he has always been loved.”
+
+Mr. Havisham cleared his throat again. He could not quite imagine the
+gouty, fiery-tempered old Earl loving any one very much; but he knew it
+would be to his interest to be kind, in his irritable way, to the child
+who was to be his heir. He knew, too, that if Ceddie were at all a
+credit to his name, his grandfather would be proud of him.
+
+“Lord Fauntleroy will be comfortable, I am sure,” he replied. “It was
+with a view to his happiness that the Earl desired that you should be
+near enough to him to see him frequently.”
+
+He did not think it would be discreet to repeat the exact words the Earl
+had used, which were in fact neither polite nor amiable.
+
+Mr. Havisham preferred to express his noble patron's offer in smoother
+and more courteous language.
+
+He had another slight shock when Mrs. Errol asked Mary to find her
+little boy and bring him to her, and Mary told her where he was.
+
+“Sure I'll foind him aisy enough, ma'am,” she said; “for it's wid Mr.
+Hobbs he is this minnit, settin' on his high shtool by the counther an'
+talkin' pollytics, most loikely, or enj'yin' hisself among the soap an'
+candles an' pertaties, as sinsible an' shwate as ye plase.”
+
+“Mr. Hobbs has known him all his life,” Mrs. Errol said to the lawyer.
+“He is very kind to Ceddie, and there is a great friendship between
+them.”
+
+Remembering the glimpse he had caught of the store as he passed it,
+and having a recollection of the barrels of potatoes and apples and
+the various odds and ends, Mr. Havisham felt his doubts arise again.
+In England, gentlemen's sons did not make friends of grocerymen, and it
+seemed to him a rather singular proceeding. It would be very awkward if
+the child had bad manners and a disposition to like low company. One of
+the bitterest humiliations of the old Earl's life had been that his two
+elder sons had been fond of low company. Could it be, he thought,
+that this boy shared their bad qualities instead of his father's good
+qualities?
+
+He was thinking uneasily about this as he talked to Mrs. Errol until the
+child came into the room. When the door opened, he actually hesitated
+a moment before looking at Cedric. It would, perhaps, have seemed very
+queer to a great many people who knew him, if they could have known the
+curious sensations that passed through Mr. Havisham when he looked down
+at the boy, who ran into his mother's arms. He experienced a revulsion
+of feeling which was quite exciting. He recognized in an instant that
+here was one of the finest and handsomest little fellows he had ever
+seen.
+
+His beauty was something unusual. He had a strong, lithe, graceful
+little body and a manly little face; he held his childish head up, and
+carried himself with a brave air; he was so like his father that it was
+really startling; he had his father's golden hair and his mother's
+brown eyes, but there was nothing sorrowful or timid in them. They were
+innocently fearless eyes; he looked as if he had never feared or doubted
+anything in his life.
+
+“He is the best-bred-looking and handsomest little fellow I ever saw,”
+ was what Mr. Havisham thought. What he said aloud was simply, “And so
+this is little Lord Fauntleroy.”
+
+And, after this, the more he saw of little Lord Fauntleroy, the more of
+a surprise he found him. He knew very little about children, though he
+had seen plenty of them in England--fine, handsome, rosy girls and boys,
+who were strictly taken care of by their tutors and governesses, and who
+were sometimes shy, and sometimes a trifle boisterous, but never very
+interesting to a ceremonious, rigid old lawyer. Perhaps his personal
+interest in little Lord Fauntleroy's fortunes made him notice Ceddie
+more than he had noticed other children; but, however that was, he
+certainly found himself noticing him a great deal.
+
+Cedric did not know he was being observed, and he only behaved himself
+in his ordinary manner. He shook hands with Mr. Havisham in his friendly
+way when they were introduced to each other, and he answered all his
+questions with the unhesitating readiness with which he answered Mr.
+Hobbs. He was neither shy nor bold, and when Mr. Havisham was talking to
+his mother, the lawyer noticed that he listened to the conversation with
+as much interest as if he had been quite grown up.
+
+“He seems to be a very mature little fellow,” Mr. Havisham said to the
+mother.
+
+“I think he is, in some things,” she answered. “He has always been very
+quick to learn, and he has lived a great deal with grownup people. He
+has a funny little habit of using long words and expressions he has read
+in books, or has heard others use, but he is very fond of childish
+play. I think he is rather clever, but he is a very boyish little boy,
+sometimes.”
+
+The next time Mr. Havisham met him, he saw that this last was quite
+true. As his coupe turned the corner, he caught sight of a group of
+small boys, who were evidently much excited. Two of them were about to
+run a race, and one of them was his young lordship, and he was shouting
+and making as much noise as the noisiest of his companions. He stood
+side by side with another boy, one little red leg advanced a step.
+
+“One, to make ready!” yelled the starter. “Two, to be steady. Three--and
+away!”
+
+Mr. Havisham found himself leaning out of the window of his coupe with
+a curious feeling of interest. He really never remembered having seen
+anything quite like the way in which his lordship's lordly little red
+legs flew up behind his knickerbockers and tore over the ground as he
+shot out in the race at the signal word. He shut his small hands and set
+his face against the wind; his bright hair streamed out behind.
+
+“Hooray, Ced Errol!” all the boys shouted, dancing and shrieking with
+excitement. “Hooray, Billy Williams! Hooray, Ceddie! Hooray, Billy!
+Hooray! 'Ray! 'Ray!”
+
+“I really believe he is going to win,” said Mr. Havisham. The way in
+which the red legs flew and flashed up and down, the shrieks of the
+boys, the wild efforts of Billy Williams, whose brown legs were not to
+be despised, as they followed closely in the rear of the red legs, made
+him feel some excitement. “I really--I really can't help hoping he will
+win!” he said, with an apologetic sort of cough. At that moment, the
+wildest yell of all went up from the dancing, hopping boys. With
+one last frantic leap the future Earl of Dorincourt had reached the
+lamp-post at the end of the block and touched it, just two seconds
+before Billy Williams flung himself at it, panting.
+
+“Three cheers for Ceddie Errol!” yelled the little boys. “Hooray for
+Ceddie Errol!”
+
+Mr. Havisham drew his head in at the window of his coupe and leaned back
+with a dry smile.
+
+“Bravo, Lord Fauntleroy!” he said.
+
+As his carriage stopped before the door of Mrs. Errol's house, the
+victor and the vanquished were coming toward it, attended by the
+clamoring crew. Cedric walked by Billy Williams and was speaking to him.
+His elated little face was very red, his curls clung to his hot, moist
+forehead, his hands were in his pockets.
+
+“You see,” he was saying, evidently with the intention of making defeat
+easy for his unsuccessful rival, “I guess I won because my legs are a
+little longer than yours. I guess that was it. You see, I'm three days
+older than you, and that gives me a 'vantage. I'm three days older.”
+
+And this view of the case seemed to cheer Billy Williams so much that
+he began to smile on the world again, and felt able to swagger a little,
+almost as if he had won the race instead of losing it. Somehow, Ceddie
+Errol had a way of making people feel comfortable. Even in the first
+flush of his triumphs, he remembered that the person who was beaten
+might not feel so gay as he did, and might like to think that he MIGHT
+have been the winner under different circumstances.
+
+That morning Mr. Havisham had quite a long conversation with the winner
+of the race--a conversation which made him smile his dry smile, and rub
+his chin with his bony hand several times.
+
+Mrs. Errol had been called out of the parlor, and the lawyer and Cedric
+were left together. At first Mr. Havisham wondered what he should say to
+his small companion. He had an idea that perhaps it would be best to say
+several things which might prepare Cedric for meeting his grandfather,
+and, perhaps, for the great change that was to come to him. He could see
+that Cedric had not the least idea of the sort of thing he was to see
+when he reached England, or of the sort of home that waited for him
+there. He did not even know yet that his mother was not to live in the
+same house with him. They had thought it best to let him get over the
+first shock before telling him.
+
+Mr. Havisham sat in an arm-chair on one side of the open window; on the
+other side was another still larger chair, and Cedric sat in that and
+looked at Mr. Havisham. He sat well back in the depths of his big seat,
+his curly head against the cushioned back, his legs crossed, and his
+hands thrust deep into his pockets, in a quite Mr. Hobbs-like way. He
+had been watching Mr. Havisham very steadily when his mamma had been in
+the room, and after she was gone he still looked at him in respectful
+thoughtfulness. There was a short silence after Mrs. Errol went out,
+and Cedric seemed to be studying Mr. Havisham, and Mr. Havisham was
+certainly studying Cedric. He could not make up his mind as to what an
+elderly gentleman should say to a little boy who won races, and wore
+short knickerbockers and red stockings on legs which were not long
+enough to hang over a big chair when he sat well back in it.
+
+But Cedric relieved him by suddenly beginning the conversation himself.
+
+“Do you know,” he said, “I don't know what an earl is?”
+
+“Don't you?” said Mr. Havisham.
+
+“No,” replied Ceddie. “And I think when a boy is going to be one, he
+ought to know. Don't you?”
+
+“Well--yes,” answered Mr. Havisham.
+
+“Would you mind,” said Ceddie respectfully--“would you mind 'splaining
+it to me?” (Sometimes when he used his long words he did not pronounce
+them quite correctly.) “What made him an earl?”
+
+“A king or queen, in the first place,” said Mr. Havisham. “Generally,
+he is made an earl because he has done some service to his sovereign, or
+some great deed.”
+
+“Oh!” said Cedric; “that's like the President.”
+
+“Is it?” said Mr. Havisham. “Is that why your presidents are elected?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Ceddie cheerfully. “When a man is very good and knows a
+great deal, he is elected president. They have torch-light processions
+and bands, and everybody makes speeches. I used to think I might perhaps
+be a president, but I never thought of being an earl. I didn't know
+about earls,” he said, rather hastily, lest Mr. Havisham might feel it
+impolite in him not to have wished to be one,--“if I'd known about them,
+I dare say I should have thought I should like to be one.”
+
+“It is rather different from being a president,” said Mr. Havisham.
+
+“Is it?” asked Cedric. “How? Are there no torch-light processions?”
+
+Mr. Havisham crossed his own legs and put the tips of his fingers
+carefully together. He thought perhaps the time had come to explain
+matters rather more clearly.
+
+“An earl is--is a very important person,” he began.
+
+“So is a president!” put in Ceddie. “The torch-light processions are
+five miles long, and they shoot up rockets, and the band plays! Mr.
+Hobbs took me to see them.”
+
+“An earl,” Mr. Havisham went on, feeling rather uncertain of his ground,
+“is frequently of very ancient lineage----”
+
+“What's that?” asked Ceddie.
+
+“Of very old family--extremely old.”
+
+“Ah!” said Cedric, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. “I
+suppose that is the way with the apple-woman near the park. I dare say
+she is of ancient lin-lenage. She is so old it would surprise you how
+she can stand up. She's a hundred, I should think, and yet she is out
+there when it rains, even. I'm sorry for her, and so are the other boys.
+Billy Williams once had nearly a dollar, and I asked him to buy five
+cents' worth of apples from her every day until he had spent it all.
+That made twenty days, and he grew tired of apples after a week; but
+then--it was quite fortunate--a gentleman gave me fifty cents and I
+bought apples from her instead. You feel sorry for any one that's so
+poor and has such ancient lin-lenage. She says hers has gone into her
+bones and the rain makes it worse.”
+
+Mr. Havisham felt rather at a loss as he looked at his companion's
+innocent, serious little face.
+
+“I am afraid you did not quite understand me,” he explained. “When I
+said 'ancient lineage' I did not mean old age; I meant that the name
+of such a family has been known in the world a long time; perhaps for
+hundreds of years persons bearing that name have been known and spoken
+of in the history of their country.”
+
+“Like George Washington,” said Ceddie. “I've heard of him ever since I
+was born, and he was known about, long before that. Mr. Hobbs says
+he will never be forgotten. That's because of the Declaration of
+Independence, you know, and the Fourth of July. You see, he was a very
+brave man.”
+
+“The first Earl of Dorincourt,” said Mr. Havisham solemnly, “was created
+an earl four hundred years ago.”
+
+“Well, well!” said Ceddie. “That was a long time ago! Did you tell
+Dearest that? It would int'rust her very much. We'll tell her when she
+comes in. She always likes to hear cur'us things. What else does an earl
+do besides being created?”
+
+“A great many of them have helped to govern England. Some of them have
+been brave men and have fought in great battles in the old days.”
+
+“I should like to do that myself,” said Cedric. “My papa was a soldier,
+and he was a very brave man--as brave as George Washington. Perhaps
+that was because he would have been an earl if he hadn't died. I am glad
+earls are brave. That's a great 'vantage--to be a brave man. Once I used
+to be rather afraid of things--in the dark, you know; but when I thought
+about the soldiers in the Revolution and George Washington--it cured
+me.”
+
+“There is another advantage in being an earl, sometimes,” said Mr.
+Havisham slowly, and he fixed his shrewd eyes on the little boy with a
+rather curious expression. “Some earls have a great deal of money.”
+
+He was curious because he wondered if his young friend knew what the
+power of money was.
+
+“That's a good thing to have,” said Ceddie innocently. “I wish I had a
+great deal of money.”
+
+“Do you?” said Mr. Havisham. “And why?”
+
+“Well,” explained Cedric, “there are so many things a person can do with
+money. You see, there's the apple-woman. If I were very rich I should
+buy her a little tent to put her stall in, and a little stove, and then
+I should give her a dollar every morning it rained, so that she could
+afford to stay at home. And then--oh! I'd give her a shawl. And, you
+see, her bones wouldn't feel so badly. Her bones are not like our bones;
+they hurt her when she moves. It's very painful when your bones hurt
+you. If I were rich enough to do all those things for her, I guess her
+bones would be all right.”
+
+“Ahem!” said Mr. Havisham. “And what else would you do if you were
+rich?”
+
+“Oh! I'd do a great many things. Of course I should buy Dearest all
+sorts of beautiful things, needle-books and fans and gold thimbles and
+rings, and an encyclopedia, and a carriage, so that she needn't have to
+wait for the street-cars. If she liked pink silk dresses, I should buy
+her some, but she likes black best. But I'd take her to the big stores,
+and tell her to look 'round and choose for herself. And then Dick----”
+
+“Who is Dick?” asked Mr. Havisham.
+
+“Dick is a boot-black,” said his young lordship, quite warming up in
+his interest in plans so exciting. “He is one of the nicest boot-blacks
+you ever knew. He stands at the corner of a street down-town. I've
+known him for years. Once when I was very little, I was walking out
+with Dearest, and she bought me a beautiful ball that bounced, and I
+was carrying it and it bounced into the middle of the street where the
+carriages and horses were, and I was so disappointed, I began to cry--I
+was very little. I had kilts on. And Dick was blacking a man's shoes,
+and he said 'Hello!' and he ran in between the horses and caught the
+ball for me and wiped it off with his coat and gave it to me and said,
+'It's all right, young un.' So Dearest admired him very much, and so did
+I, and ever since then, when we go down-town, we talk to him. He says
+'Hello!' and I say 'Hello!' and then we talk a little, and he tells me
+how trade is. It's been bad lately.”
+
+“And what would you like to do for him?” inquired the lawyer, rubbing
+his chin and smiling a queer smile.
+
+“Well,” said Lord Fauntleroy, settling himself in his chair with a
+business air, “I'd buy Jake out.”
+
+“And who is Jake?” Mr. Havisham asked.
+
+“He's Dick's partner, and he is the worst partner a fellow could have!
+Dick says so. He isn't a credit to the business, and he isn't square. He
+cheats, and that makes Dick mad. It would make you mad, you know, if you
+were blacking boots as hard as you could, and being square all the time,
+and your partner wasn't square at all. People like Dick, but they don't
+like Jake, and so sometimes they don't come twice. So if I were rich,
+I'd buy Jake out and get Dick a 'boss' sign--he says a 'boss' sign goes
+a long way; and I'd get him some new clothes and new brushes, and start
+him out fair. He says all he wants is to start out fair.”
+
+There could have been nothing more confiding and innocent than the way
+in which his small lordship told his little story, quoting his friend
+Dick's bits of slang in the most candid good faith. He seemed to feel
+not a shade of a doubt that his elderly companion would be just as
+interested as he was himself. And in truth Mr. Havisham was beginning
+to be greatly interested; but perhaps not quite so much in Dick and the
+apple-woman as in this kind little lordling, whose curly head was so
+busy, under its yellow thatch, with good-natured plans for his friends,
+and who seemed somehow to have forgotten himself altogether.
+
+“Is there anything----” he began. “What would you get for yourself, if
+you were rich?”
+
+“Lots of things!” answered Lord Fauntleroy briskly; “but first I'd give
+Mary some money for Bridget--that's her sister, with twelve children,
+and a husband out of work. She comes here and cries, and Dearest gives
+her things in a basket, and then she cries again, and says: 'Blessin's
+be on yez, for a beautiful lady.' And I think Mr. Hobbs would like a
+gold watch and chain to remember me by, and a meerschaum pipe. And then
+I'd like to get up a company.”
+
+“A company!” exclaimed Mr. Havisham.
+
+“Like a Republican rally,” explained Cedric, becoming quite excited.
+“I'd have torches and uniforms and things for all the boys and myself,
+too. And we'd march, you know, and drill. That's what I should like for
+myself, if I were rich.”
+
+The door opened and Mrs. Errol came in.
+
+“I am sorry to have been obliged to leave you so long,” she said to Mr.
+Havisham; “but a poor woman, who is in great trouble, came to see me.”
+
+“This young gentleman,” said Mr. Havisham, “has been telling me about
+some of his friends, and what he would do for them if he were rich.”
+
+“Bridget is one of his friends,” said Mrs. Errol; “and it is Bridget
+to whom I have been talking in the kitchen. She is in great trouble now
+because her husband has rheumatic fever.”
+
+Cedric slipped down out of his big chair.
+
+“I think I'll go and see her,” he said, “and ask her how he is. He's a
+nice man when he is well. I'm obliged to him because he once made me a
+sword out of wood. He's a very talented man.”
+
+He ran out of the room, and Mr. Havisham rose from his chair. He seemed
+to have something in his mind which he wished to speak of.
+
+He hesitated a moment, and then said, looking down at Mrs. Errol:
+
+“Before I left Dorincourt Castle, I had an interview with the Earl, in
+which he gave me some instructions. He is desirous that his grandson
+should look forward with some pleasure to his future life in England,
+and also to his acquaintance with himself. He said that I must let his
+lordship know that the change in his life would bring him money and the
+pleasures children enjoy; if he expressed any wishes, I was to gratify
+them, and to tell him that his grand-father had given him what he
+wished. I am aware that the Earl did not expect anything quite like
+this; but if it would give Lord Fauntleroy pleasure to assist this poor
+woman, I should feel that the Earl would be displeased if he were not
+gratified.”
+
+For the second time, he did not repeat the Earl's exact words. His
+lordship had, indeed, said:
+
+“Make the lad understand that I can give him anything he wants. Let him
+know what it is to be the grandson of the Earl of Dorincourt. Buy him
+everything he takes a fancy to; let him have money in his pockets, and
+tell him his grandfather put it there.”
+
+His motives were far from being good, and if he had been dealing with a
+nature less affectionate and warm-hearted than little Lord Fauntleroy's,
+great harm might have been done. And Cedric's mother was too gentle to
+suspect any harm. She thought that perhaps this meant that a lonely,
+unhappy old man, whose children were dead, wished to be kind to her
+little boy, and win his love and confidence. And it pleased her very
+much to think that Ceddie would be able to help Bridget. It made her
+happier to know that the very first result of the strange fortune which
+had befallen her little boy was that he could do kind things for those
+who needed kindness. Quite a warm color bloomed on her pretty young
+face.
+
+“Oh!” she said, “that was very kind of the Earl; Cedric will be so
+glad! He has always been fond of Bridget and Michael. They are quite
+deserving. I have often wished I had been able to help them more.
+Michael is a hard-working man when he is well, but he has been ill a
+long time and needs expensive medicines and warm clothing and nourishing
+food. He and Bridget will not be wasteful of what is given them.”
+
+Mr. Havisham put his thin hand in his breast pocket and drew forth a
+large pocket-book. There was a queer look in his keen face. The truth
+was, he was wondering what the Earl of Dorincourt would say when he was
+told what was the first wish of his grandson that had been granted. He
+wondered what the cross, worldly, selfish old nobleman would think of
+it.
+
+“I do not know that you have realized,” he said, “that the Earl of
+Dorincourt is an exceedingly rich man. He can afford to gratify any
+caprice. I think it would please him to know that Lord Fauntleroy had
+been indulged in any fancy. If you will call him back and allow me, I
+shall give him five pounds for these people.”
+
+“That would be twenty-five dollars!” exclaimed Mrs. Errol. “It will seem
+like wealth to them. I can scarcely believe that it is true.”
+
+“It is quite true,” said Mr. Havisham, with his dry smile. “A great
+change has taken place in your son's life, a great deal of power will
+lie in his hands.”
+
+“Oh!” cried his mother. “And he is such a little boy--a very little boy.
+How can I teach him to use it well? It makes me half afraid. My pretty
+little Ceddie!”
+
+The lawyer slightly cleared his throat. It touched his worldly, hard old
+heart to see the tender, timid look in her brown eyes.
+
+“I think, madam,” he said, “that if I may judge from my interview with
+Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of Dorincourt will think
+for others as well as for his noble self. He is only a child yet, but I
+think he may be trusted.”
+
+Then his mother went for Cedric and brought him back into the parlor.
+Mr. Havisham heard him talking before he entered the room.
+
+“It's infam-natory rheumatism,” he was saying, “and that's a kind of
+rheumatism that's dreadful. And he thinks about the rent not being paid,
+and Bridget says that makes the inf'ammation worse. And Pat could get a
+place in a store if he had some clothes.”
+
+His little face looked quite anxious when he came in. He was very sorry
+for Bridget.
+
+“Dearest said you wanted me,” he said to Mr. Havisham. “I've been
+talking to Bridget.”
+
+Mr. Havisham looked down at him a moment. He felt a little awkward and
+undecided. As Cedric's mother had said, he was a very little boy.
+
+“The Earl of Dorincourt----” he began, and then he glanced involuntarily
+at Mrs. Errol.
+
+Little Lord Fauntleroy's mother suddenly kneeled down by him and put
+both her tender arms around his childish body.
+
+“Ceddie,” she said, “the Earl is your grandpapa, your own papa's father.
+He is very, very kind, and he loves you and wishes you to love him,
+because the sons who were his little boys are dead. He wishes you to be
+happy and to make other people happy. He is very rich, and he wishes you
+to have everything you would like to have. He told Mr. Havisham so, and
+gave him a great deal of money for you. You can give some to Bridget
+now; enough to pay her rent and buy Michael everything. Isn't that fine,
+Ceddie? Isn't he good?” And she kissed the child on his round cheek,
+where the bright color suddenly flashed up in his excited amazement.
+
+He looked from his mother to Mr. Havisham.
+
+“Can I have it now?” he cried. “Can I give it to her this minute? She's
+just going.”
+
+Mr. Havisham handed him the money. It was in fresh, clean greenbacks and
+made a neat roll.
+
+Ceddie flew out of the room with it.
+
+“Bridget!” they heard him shout, as he tore into the kitchen. “Bridget,
+wait a minute! Here's some money. It's for you, and you can pay the
+rent. My grandpapa gave it to me. It's for you and Michael!”
+
+“Oh, Master Ceddie!” cried Bridget, in an awe-stricken voice. “It's
+twinty-foive dollars is here. Where be's the misthress?”
+
+“I think I shall have to go and explain it to her,” Mrs. Errol said.
+
+So she, too, went out of the room and Mr. Havisham was left alone for
+a while. He went to the window and stood looking out into the street
+reflectively. He was thinking of the old Earl of Dorincourt, sitting
+in his great, splendid, gloomy library at the castle, gouty and lonely,
+surrounded by grandeur and luxury, but not really loved by any one,
+because in all his long life he had never really loved any one but
+himself; he had been selfish and self-indulgent and arrogant and
+passionate; he had cared so much for the Earl of Dorincourt and his
+pleasures that there had been no time for him to think of other people;
+all his wealth and power, all the benefits from his noble name and high
+rank, had seemed to him to be things only to be used to amuse and give
+pleasure to the Earl of Dorincourt; and now that he was an old man, all
+this excitement and self-indulgence had only brought him ill health and
+irritability and a dislike of the world, which certainly disliked him.
+In spite of all his splendor, there was never a more unpopular old
+nobleman than the Earl of Dorincourt, and there could scarcely have been
+a more lonely one. He could fill his castle with guests if he chose. He
+could give great dinners and splendid hunting parties; but he knew that
+in secret the people who would accept his invitations were afraid of his
+frowning old face and sarcastic, biting speeches. He had a cruel tongue
+and a bitter nature, and he took pleasure in sneering at people and
+making them feel uncomfortable, when he had the power to do so, because
+they were sensitive or proud or timid.
+
+Mr. Havisham knew his hard, fierce ways by heart, and he was thinking
+of him as he looked out of the window into the narrow, quiet street. And
+there rose in his mind, in sharp contrast, the picture of the cheery,
+handsome little fellow sitting in the big chair and telling his story of
+his friends, Dick and the apple-woman, in his generous, innocent, honest
+way. And he thought of the immense income, the beautiful, majestic
+estates, the wealth, and power for good or evil, which in the course of
+time would lie in the small, chubby hands little Lord Fauntleroy thrust
+so deep into his pockets.
+
+“It will make a great difference,” he said to himself. “It will make a
+great difference.”
+
+Cedric and his mother came back soon after. Cedric was in high spirits.
+He sat down in his own chair, between his mother and the lawyer, and
+fell into one of his quaint attitudes, with his hands on his knees. He
+was glowing with enjoyment of Bridget's relief and rapture.
+
+“She cried!” he said. “She said she was crying for joy! I never saw any
+one cry for joy before. My grandpapa must be a very good man. I didn't
+know he was so good a man. It's more--more agreeabler to be an earl than
+I thought it was. I'm almost glad--I'm almost QUITE glad I'm going to be
+one.”
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+Cedric's good opinion of the advantages of being an earl increased
+greatly during the next week. It seemed almost impossible for him to
+realize that there was scarcely anything he might wish to do which he
+could not do easily; in fact, I think it may be said that he did
+not fully realize it at all. But at least he understood, after a few
+conversations with Mr. Havisham, that he could gratify all his nearest
+wishes, and he proceeded to gratify them with a simplicity and delight
+which caused Mr. Havisham much diversion. In the week before they sailed
+for England he did many curious things. The lawyer long after remembered
+the morning they went down-town together to pay a visit to Dick, and the
+afternoon they so amazed the apple-woman of ancient lineage by stopping
+before her stall and telling her she was to have a tent, and a stove,
+and a shawl, and a sum of money which seemed to her quite wonderful.
+
+“For I have to go to England and be a lord,” explained Cedric,
+sweet-temperedly. “And I shouldn't like to have your bones on my mind
+every time it rained. My own bones never hurt, so I think I don't know
+how painful a person's bones can be, but I've sympathized with you a
+great deal, and I hope you'll be better.”
+
+“She's a very good apple-woman,” he said to Mr. Havisham, as they walked
+away, leaving the proprietress of the stall almost gasping for breath,
+and not at all believing in her great fortune. “Once, when I fell
+down and cut my knee, she gave me an apple for nothing. I've always
+remembered her for it. You know you always remember people who are kind
+to you.”
+
+It had never occurred to his honest, simple little mind that there were
+people who could forget kindnesses.
+
+The interview with Dick was quite exciting. Dick had just been having
+a great deal of trouble with Jake, and was in low spirits when they saw
+him. His amazement when Cedric calmly announced that they had come to
+give him what seemed a very great thing to him, and would set all his
+troubles right, almost struck him dumb. Lord Fauntleroy's manner of
+announcing the object of his visit was very simple and unceremonious.
+Mr. Havisham was much impressed by its directness as he stood by and
+listened. The statement that his old friend had become a lord, and was
+in danger of being an earl if he lived long enough, caused Dick to
+so open his eyes and mouth, and start, that his cap fell off. When he
+picked it up, he uttered a rather singular exclamation. Mr. Havisham
+thought it singular, but Cedric had heard it before.
+
+“I soy!” he said, “what're yer givin' us?” This plainly embarrassed his
+lordship a little, but he bore himself bravely.
+
+“Everybody thinks it not true at first,” he said. “Mr. Hobbs thought
+I'd had a sunstroke. I didn't think I was going to like it myself, but I
+like it better now I'm used to it. The one who is the Earl now, he's my
+grandpapa; and he wants me to do anything I like. He's very kind, if
+he IS an earl; and he sent me a lot of money by Mr. Havisham, and I've
+brought some to you to buy Jake out.”
+
+And the end of the matter was that Dick actually bought Jake out, and
+found himself the possessor of the business and some new brushes and a
+most astonishing sign and outfit. He could not believe in his good luck
+any more easily than the apple-woman of ancient lineage could believe
+in hers; he walked about like a boot-black in a dream; he stared at
+his young benefactor and felt as if he might wake up at any moment. He
+scarcely seemed to realize anything until Cedric put out his hand to
+shake hands with him before going away.
+
+“Well, good-bye,” he said; and though he tried to speak steadily, there
+was a little tremble in his voice and he winked his big brown eyes.
+“And I hope trade'll be good. I'm sorry I'm going away to leave you, but
+perhaps I shall come back again when I'm an earl. And I wish you'd write
+to me, because we were always good friends. And if you write to me,
+here's where you must send your letter.” And he gave him a slip of
+paper. “And my name isn't Cedric Errol any more; it's Lord Fauntleroy
+and--and good-bye, Dick.”
+
+Dick winked his eyes also, and yet they looked rather moist about the
+lashes. He was not an educated boot-black, and he would have found it
+difficult to tell what he felt just then if he had tried; perhaps that
+was why he didn't try, and only winked his eyes and swallowed a lump in
+his throat.
+
+“I wish ye wasn't goin' away,” he said in a husky voice. Then he winked
+his eyes again. Then he looked at Mr. Havisham, and touched his cap.
+“Thanky, sir, fur bringin' him down here an' fur wot ye've done,
+He's--he's a queer little feller,” he added. “I've allers thort a heap
+of him. He's such a game little feller, an'--an' such a queer little
+un.”
+
+And when they turned away he stood and looked after them in a dazed
+kind of way, and there was still a mist in his eyes, and a lump in his
+throat, as he watched the gallant little figure marching gayly along by
+the side of its tall, rigid escort.
+
+Until the day of his departure, his lordship spent as much time as
+possible with Mr. Hobbs in the store. Gloom had settled upon Mr. Hobbs;
+he was much depressed in spirits. When his young friend brought to him
+in triumph the parting gift of a gold watch and chain, Mr. Hobbs found
+it difficult to acknowledge it properly. He laid the case on his stout
+knee, and blew his nose violently several times.
+
+“There's something written on it,” said Cedric,--“inside the case.
+I told the man myself what to say. 'From his oldest friend, Lord
+Fauntleroy, to Mr. Hobbs. When this you see, remember me.' I don't want
+you to forget me.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs blew his nose very loudly again.
+
+“I sha'n't forget you,” he said, speaking a trifle huskily, as Dick had
+spoken; “nor don't you go and forget me when you get among the British
+arrystocracy.”
+
+“I shouldn't forget you, whoever I was among,” answered his lordship.
+“I've spent my happiest hours with you; at least, some of my happiest
+hours. I hope you'll come to see me sometime. I'm sure my grandpapa
+would be very much pleased. Perhaps he'll write and ask you, when I tell
+him about you. You--you wouldn't mind his being an earl, would you, I
+mean you wouldn't stay away just because he was one, if he invited you
+to come?”
+
+“I'd come to see you,” replied Mr. Hobbs, graciously.
+
+So it seemed to be agreed that if he received a pressing invitation from
+the Earl to come and spend a few months at Dorincourt Castle, he was to
+lay aside his republican prejudices and pack his valise at once.
+
+At last all the preparations were complete; the day came when the trunks
+were taken to the steamer, and the hour arrived when the carriage stood
+at the door. Then a curious feeling of loneliness came upon the little
+boy. His mamma had been shut up in her room for some time; when she came
+down the stairs, her eyes looked large and wet, and her sweet mouth was
+trembling. Cedric went to her, and she bent down to him, and he put his
+arms around her, and they kissed each other. He knew something made them
+both sorry, though he scarcely knew what it was; but one tender little
+thought rose to his lips.
+
+“We liked this little house, Dearest, didn't we?” he said. “We always
+will like it, won't we?”
+
+“Yes--yes,” she answered, in a low, sweet voice. “Yes, darling.”
+
+And then they went into the carriage and Cedric sat very close to her,
+and as she looked back out of the window, he looked at her and stroked
+her hand and held it close.
+
+And then, it seemed almost directly, they were on the steamer in the
+midst of the wildest bustle and confusion; carriages were driving
+down and leaving passengers; passengers were getting into a state of
+excitement about baggage which had not arrived and threatened to be too
+late; big trunks and cases were being bumped down and dragged about;
+sailors were uncoiling ropes and hurrying to and fro; officers were
+giving orders; ladies and gentlemen and children and nurses were coming
+on board,--some were laughing and looked gay, some were silent and sad,
+here and there two or three were crying and touching their eyes with
+their handkerchiefs. Cedric found something to interest him on every
+side; he looked at the piles of rope, at the furled sails, at the tall,
+tall masts which seemed almost to touch the hot blue sky; he began to
+make plans for conversing with the sailors and gaining some information
+on the subject of pirates.
+
+It was just at the very last, when he was standing leaning on the
+railing of the upper deck and watching the final preparations, enjoying
+the excitement and the shouts of the sailors and wharfmen, that his
+attention was called to a slight bustle in one of the groups not far
+from him. Some one was hurriedly forcing his way through this group and
+coming toward him. It was a boy, with something red in his hand. It was
+Dick. He came up to Cedric quite breathless.
+
+“I've run all the way,” he said. “I've come down to see ye off. Trade's
+been prime! I bought this for ye out o' what I made yesterday. Ye kin
+wear it when ye get among the swells. I lost the paper when I was tryin'
+to get through them fellers downstairs. They didn't want to let me up.
+It's a hankercher.”
+
+He poured it all forth as if in one sentence. A bell rang, and he made a
+leap away before Cedric had time to speak.
+
+“Good-bye!” he panted. “Wear it when ye get among the swells.” And he
+darted off and was gone.
+
+A few seconds later they saw him struggle through the crowd on the lower
+deck, and rush on shore just before the gang-plank was drawn in. He
+stood on the wharf and waved his cap.
+
+Cedric held the handkerchief in his hand. It was of bright red silk
+ornamented with purple horseshoes and horses' heads.
+
+There was a great straining and creaking and confusion. The people on
+the wharf began to shout to their friends, and the people on the steamer
+shouted back:
+
+“Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye, old fellow!” Every one seemed to be
+saying, “Don't forget us. Write when you get to Liverpool. Good-bye!
+Good-bye!”
+
+Little Lord Fauntleroy leaned forward and waved the red handkerchief.
+
+“Good-bye, Dick!” he shouted, lustily. “Thank you! Good-bye, Dick!”
+
+And the big steamer moved away, and the people cheered again, and
+Cedric's mother drew the veil over her eyes, and on the shore there was
+left great confusion; but Dick saw nothing save that bright, childish
+face and the bright hair that the sun shone on and the breeze lifted,
+and he heard nothing but the hearty childish voice calling “Good-bye,
+Dick!” as little Lord Fauntleroy steamed slowly away from the home of
+his birth to the unknown land of his ancestors.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+It was during the voyage that Cedric's mother told him that his home was
+not to be hers; and when he first understood it, his grief was so
+great that Mr. Havisham saw that the Earl had been wise in making the
+arrangements that his mother should be quite near him, and see him
+often; for it was very plain he could not have borne the separation
+otherwise. But his mother managed the little fellow so sweetly and
+lovingly, and made him feel that she would be so near him, that, after a
+while, he ceased to be oppressed by the fear of any real parting.
+
+“My house is not far from the Castle, Ceddie,” she repeated each time
+the subject was referred to--“a very little way from yours, and you can
+always run in and see me every day, and you will have so many things
+to tell me! and we shall be so happy together! It is a beautiful place.
+Your papa has often told me about it. He loved it very much; and you
+will love it too.”
+
+“I should love it better if you were there,” his small lordship said,
+with a heavy little sigh.
+
+He could not but feel puzzled by so strange a state of affairs, which
+could put his “Dearest” in one house and himself in another.
+
+The fact was that Mrs. Errol had thought it better not to tell him why
+this plan had been made.
+
+“I should prefer he should not be told,” she said to Mr. Havisham. “He
+would not really understand; he would only be shocked and hurt; and
+I feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will be a more natural and
+affectionate one if he does not know that his grandfather dislikes me so
+bitterly. He has never seen hatred or hardness, and it would be a great
+blow to him to find out that any one could hate me. He is so loving
+himself, and I am so dear to him! It is better for him that he should
+not be told until he is much older, and it is far better for the Earl.
+It would make a barrier between them, even though Ceddie is such a
+child.”
+
+So Cedric only knew that there was some mysterious reason for the
+arrangement, some reason which he was not old enough to understand, but
+which would be explained when he was older. He was puzzled; but, after
+all, it was not the reason he cared about so much; and after many talks
+with his mother, in which she comforted him and placed before him the
+bright side of the picture, the dark side of it gradually began to fade
+out, though now and then Mr. Havisham saw him sitting in some queer
+little old-fashioned attitude, watching the sea, with a very grave face,
+and more than once he heard an unchildish sigh rise to his lips.
+
+“I don't like it,” he said once as he was having one of his almost
+venerable talks with the lawyer. “You don't know how much I don't like
+it; but there are a great many troubles in this world, and you have
+to bear them. Mary says so, and I've heard Mr. Hobbs say it too. And
+Dearest wants me to like to live with my grandpapa, because, you see,
+all his children are dead, and that's very mournful. It makes you
+sorry for a man, when all his children have died--and one was killed
+suddenly.”
+
+One of the things which always delighted the people who made the
+acquaintance of his young lordship was the sage little air he wore
+at times when he gave himself up to conversation;--combined with his
+occasionally elderly remarks and the extreme innocence and seriousness
+of his round childish face, it was irresistible. He was such a handsome,
+blooming, curly-headed little fellow, that, when he sat down and nursed
+his knee with his chubby hands, and conversed with much gravity, he was
+a source of great entertainment to his hearers. Gradually Mr. Havisham
+had begun to derive a great deal of private pleasure and amusement from
+his society.
+
+“And so you are going to try to like the Earl,” he said.
+
+“Yes,” answered his lordship. “He's my relation, and of course you have
+to like your relations; and besides, he's been very kind to me. When a
+person does so many things for you, and wants you to have everything you
+wish for, of course you'd like him if he wasn't your relation; but when
+he's your relation and does that, why, you're very fond of him.”
+
+“Do you think,” suggested Mr. Havisham, “that he will be fond of you?”
+
+“Well,” said Cedric, “I think he will, because, you see, I'm his
+relation, too, and I'm his boy's little boy besides, and, well, don't
+you see--of course he must be fond of me now, or he wouldn't want me to
+have everything that I like, and he wouldn't have sent you for me.”
+
+“Oh!” remarked the lawyer, “that's it, is it?”
+
+“Yes,” said Cedric, “that's it. Don't you think that's it, too? Of
+course a man would be fond of his grandson.”
+
+The people who had been seasick had no sooner recovered from their
+seasickness, and come on deck to recline in their steamer-chairs and
+enjoy themselves, than every one seemed to know the romantic story of
+little Lord Fauntleroy, and every one took an interest in the little
+fellow, who ran about the ship or walked with his mother or the tall,
+thin old lawyer, or talked to the sailors. Every one liked him; he
+made friends everywhere. He was ever ready to make friends. When the
+gentlemen walked up and down the deck, and let him walk with them, he
+stepped out with a manly, sturdy little tramp, and answered all their
+jokes with much gay enjoyment; when the ladies talked to him, there was
+always laughter in the group of which he was the center; when he played
+with the children, there was always magnificent fun on hand. Among the
+sailors he had the heartiest friends; he heard miraculous stories about
+pirates and shipwrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice ropes
+and rig toy ships, and gained an amount of information concerning
+“tops'ls” and “mains'ls,” quite surprising. His conversation had,
+indeed, quite a nautical flavor at times, and on one occasion he raised
+a shout of laughter in a group of ladies and gentlemen who were sitting
+on deck, wrapped in shawls and overcoats, by saying sweetly, and with a
+very engaging expression:
+
+“Shiver my timbers, but it's a cold day!”
+
+It surprised him when they laughed. He had picked up this sea-faring
+remark from an “elderly naval man” of the name of Jerry, who told him
+stories in which it occurred frequently. To judge from his stories of
+his own adventures, Jerry had made some two or three thousand voyages,
+and had been invariably shipwrecked on each occasion on an island
+densely populated with bloodthirsty cannibals. Judging, also, by these
+same exciting adventures, he had been partially roasted and eaten
+frequently and had been scalped some fifteen or twenty times.
+
+“That is why he is so bald,” explained Lord Fauntleroy to his mamma.
+“After you have been scalped several times the hair never grows again.
+Jerry's never grew again after that last time, when the King of the
+Parromachaweekins did it with the knife made out of the skull of the
+Chief of the Wopslemumpkies. He says it was one of the most serious
+times he ever had. He was so frightened that his hair stood right
+straight up when the king flourished his knife, and it never would lie
+down, and the king wears it that way now, and it looks something like a
+hair-brush. I never heard anything like the asperiences Jerry has had! I
+should so like to tell Mr. Hobbs about them!”
+
+Sometimes, when the weather was very disagreeable and people were
+kept below decks in the saloon, a party of his grown-up friends would
+persuade him to tell them some of these “asperiences” of Jerry's, and as
+he sat relating them with great delight and fervor, there was certainly
+no more popular voyager on any ocean steamer crossing the Atlantic than
+little Lord Fauntleroy. He was always innocently and good-naturedly
+ready to do his small best to add to the general entertainment, and
+there was a charm in the very unconsciousness of his own childish
+importance.
+
+“Jerry's stories int'rust them very much,” he said to his mamma. “For my
+part--you must excuse me, Dearest--but sometimes I should have thought
+they couldn't be all quite true, if they hadn't happened to Jerry
+himself; but as they all happened to Jerry--well, it's very strange, you
+know, and perhaps sometimes he may forget and be a little mistaken, as
+he's been scalped so often. Being scalped a great many times might make
+a person forgetful.”
+
+It was eleven days after he had said good-bye to his friend Dick before
+he reached Liverpool; and it was on the night of the twelfth day that
+the carriage in which he and his mother and Mr. Havisham had driven from
+the station stopped before the gates of Court Lodge. They could not
+see much of the house in the darkness. Cedric only saw that there was a
+drive-way under great arching trees, and after the carriage had rolled
+down this drive-way a short distance, he saw an open door and a stream
+of bright light coming through it.
+
+Mary had come with them to attend her mistress, and she had reached the
+house before them. When Cedric jumped out of the carriage he saw one or
+two servants standing in the wide, bright hall, and Mary stood in the
+door-way.
+
+Lord Fauntleroy sprang at her with a gay little shout.
+
+“Did you get here, Mary?” he said. “Here's Mary, Dearest,” and he kissed
+the maid on her rough red cheek.
+
+“I am glad you are here, Mary,” Mrs. Errol said to her in a low voice.
+“It is such a comfort to me to see you. It takes the strangeness away.”
+ And she held out her little hand, which Mary squeezed encouragingly. She
+knew how this first “strangeness” must feel to this little mother who
+had left her own land and was about to give up her child.
+
+The English servants looked with curiosity at both the boy and his
+mother. They had heard all sorts of rumors about them both; they knew
+how angry the old Earl had been, and why Mrs. Errol was to live at the
+lodge and her little boy at the castle; they knew all about the great
+fortune he was to inherit, and about the savage old grandfather and his
+gout and his tempers.
+
+“He'll have no easy time of it, poor little chap,” they had said among
+themselves.
+
+But they did not know what sort of a little lord had come among
+them; they did not quite understand the character of the next Earl of
+Dorincourt.
+
+He pulled off his overcoat quite as if he were used to doing things for
+himself, and began to look about him. He looked about the broad hall, at
+the pictures and stags' antlers and curious things that ornamented it.
+They seemed curious to him because he had never seen such things before
+in a private house.
+
+“Dearest,” he said, “this is a very pretty house, isn't it? I am glad
+you are going to live here. It's quite a large house.”
+
+It was quite a large house compared to the one in the shabby New York
+street, and it was very pretty and cheerful. Mary led them upstairs to
+a bright chintz-hung bedroom where a fire was burning, and a large
+snow-white Persian cat was sleeping luxuriously on the white fur
+hearth-rug.
+
+“It was the house-kaper up at the Castle, ma'am, sint her to yez,”
+ explained Mary. “It's herself is a kind-hearted lady an' has had
+iverything done to prepar' fur yez. I seen her meself a few minnits, an'
+she was fond av the Capt'in, ma'am, an' graivs fur him; and she said to
+say the big cat slapin' on the rug moight make the room same homeloike
+to yez. She knowed Capt'in Errol whin he was a bye--an' a foine handsum'
+bye she ses he was, an' a foine young man wid a plisint word fur every
+one, great an' shmall. An' ses I to her, ses I: 'He's lift a bye
+that's loike him, ma'am, fur a foiner little felly niver sthipped in
+shoe-leather.”'
+
+When they were ready, they went downstairs into another big bright room;
+its ceiling was low, and the furniture was heavy and beautifully carved,
+the chairs were deep and had high massive backs, and there were queer
+shelves and cabinets with strange, pretty ornaments on them. There was
+a great tiger-skin before the fire, and an arm-chair on each side of it.
+The stately white cat had responded to Lord Fauntleroy's stroking and
+followed him downstairs, and when he threw himself down upon the rug,
+she curled herself up grandly beside him as if she intended to make
+friends. Cedric was so pleased that he put his head down by hers, and
+lay stroking her, not noticing what his mother and Mr. Havisham were
+saying.
+
+They were, indeed, speaking in a rather low tone. Mrs. Errol looked a
+little pale and agitated.
+
+“He need not go to-night?” she said. “He will stay with me to-night?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Mr. Havisham in the same low tone; “it will not be
+necessary for him to go to-night. I myself will go to the Castle as soon
+as we have dined, and inform the Earl of our arrival.”
+
+Mrs. Errol glanced down at Cedric. He was lying in a graceful, careless
+attitude upon the black-and-yellow skin; the fire shone on his handsome,
+flushed little face, and on the tumbled, curly hair spread out on the
+rug; the big cat was purring in drowsy content,--she liked the caressing
+touch of the kind little hand on her fur.
+
+Mrs. Errol smiled faintly.
+
+“His lordship does not know all that he is taking from me,” she said
+rather sadly. Then she looked at the lawyer. “Will you tell him, if you
+please,” she said, “that I should rather not have the money?”
+
+“The money!” Mr. Havisham exclaimed. “You can not mean the income he
+proposed to settle upon you!”
+
+“Yes,” she answered, quite simply; “I think I should rather not have
+it. I am obliged to accept the house, and I thank him for it, because it
+makes it possible for me to be near my child; but I have a little money
+of my own,--enough to live simply upon,--and I should rather not take
+the other. As he dislikes me so much, I should feel a little as if I
+were selling Cedric to him. I am giving him up only because I love him
+enough to forget myself for his good, and because his father would wish
+it to be so.”
+
+Mr. Havisham rubbed his chin.
+
+“This is very strange,” he said. “He will be very angry. He won't
+understand it.”
+
+“I think he will understand it after he thinks it over,” she said. “I do
+not really need the money, and why should I accept luxuries from the
+man who hates me so much that he takes my little boy from me--his son's
+child?”
+
+Mr. Havisham looked reflective for a few moments.
+
+“I will deliver your message,” he said afterward.
+
+And then the dinner was brought in and they sat down together, the big
+cat taking a seat on a chair near Cedric's and purring majestically
+throughout the meal.
+
+When, later in the evening, Mr. Havisham presented himself at the
+Castle, he was taken at once to the Earl. He found him sitting by the
+fire in a luxurious easy-chair, his foot on a gout-stool. He looked
+at the lawyer sharply from under his shaggy eyebrows, but Mr. Havisham
+could see that, in spite of his pretense at calmness, he was nervous and
+secretly excited.
+
+“Well,” he said; “well, Havisham, come back, have you? What's the news?”
+
+“Lord Fauntleroy and his mother are at Court Lodge,” replied Mr.
+Havisham. “They bore the voyage very well and are in excellent health.”
+
+The Earl made a half-impatient sound and moved his hand restlessly.
+
+“Glad to hear it,” he said brusquely. “So far, so good. Make yourself
+comfortable. Have a glass of wine and settle down. What else?”
+
+“His lordship remains with his mother to-night. To-morrow I will bring
+him to the Castle.”
+
+The Earl's elbow was resting on the arm of his chair; he put his hand up
+and shielded his eyes with it.
+
+“Well,” he said; “go on. You know I told you not to write to me about
+the matter, and I know nothing whatever about it. What kind of a lad is
+he? I don't care about the mother; what sort of a lad is he?”
+
+Mr. Havisham drank a little of the glass of port he had poured out for
+himself, and sat holding it in his hand.
+
+“It is rather difficult to judge of the character of a child of seven,”
+ he said cautiously.
+
+The Earl's prejudices were very intense. He looked up quickly and
+uttered a rough word.
+
+“A fool, is he?” he exclaimed. “Or a clumsy cub? His American blood
+tells, does it?”
+
+“I do not think it has injured him, my lord,” replied the lawyer in
+his dry, deliberate fashion. “I don't know much about children, but I
+thought him rather a fine lad.”
+
+His manner of speech was always deliberate and unenthusiastic, but he
+made it a trifle more so than usual. He had a shrewd fancy that it
+would be better that the Earl should judge for himself, and be quite
+unprepared for his first interview with his grandson.
+
+“Healthy and well-grown?” asked my lord.
+
+“Apparently very healthy, and quite well-grown,” replied the lawyer.
+
+“Straight-limbed and well enough to look at?” demanded the Earl.
+
+A very slight smile touched Mr. Havisham's thin lips. There rose up
+before his mind's eye the picture he had left at Court Lodge,--the
+beautiful, graceful child's body lying upon the tiger-skin in careless
+comfort--the bright, tumbled hair spread on the rug--the bright, rosy
+boy's face.
+
+“Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord, as boys go,” he said, “though
+I am scarcely a judge, perhaps. But you will find him somewhat different
+from most English children, I dare say.”
+
+“I haven't a doubt of that,” snarled the Earl, a twinge of gout seizing
+him. “A lot of impudent little beggars, those American children; I've
+heard that often enough.”
+
+“It is not exactly impudence in his case,” said Mr. Havisham. “I can
+scarcely describe what the difference is. He has lived more with older
+people than with children, and the difference seems to be a mixture of
+maturity and childishness.”
+
+“American impudence!” protested the Earl. “I've heard of it before. They
+call it precocity and freedom. Beastly, impudent bad manners; that's
+what it is!”
+
+Mr. Havisham drank some more port. He seldom argued with his lordly
+patron,--never when his lordly patron's noble leg was inflamed by gout.
+At such times it was always better to leave him alone. So there was a
+silence of a few moments. It was Mr. Havisham who broke it.
+
+“I have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol,” he remarked.
+
+“I don't want any of her messages!” growled his lordship; “the less I
+hear of her the better.”
+
+“This is a rather important one,” explained the lawyer. “She prefers not
+to accept the income you proposed to settle on her.”
+
+The Earl started visibly.
+
+“What's that?” he cried out. “What's that?”
+
+Mr. Havisham repeated his words.
+
+“She says it is not necessary, and that as the relations between you are
+not friendly----”
+
+“Not friendly!” ejaculated my lord savagely; “I should say they were not
+friendly! I hate to think of her! A mercenary, sharp-voiced American! I
+don't wish to see her.”
+
+“My lord,” said Mr. Havisham, “you can scarcely call her mercenary. She
+has asked for nothing. She does not accept the money you offer her.”
+
+“All done for effect!” snapped his noble lordship. “She wants to wheedle
+me into seeing her. She thinks I shall admire her spirit. I don't admire
+it! It's only American independence! I won't have her living like a
+beggar at my park gates. As she's the boy's mother, she has a position
+to keep up, and she shall keep it up. She shall have the money, whether
+she likes it or not!”
+
+“She won't spend it,” said Mr. Havisham.
+
+“I don't care whether she spends it or not!” blustered my lord. “She
+shall have it sent to her. She sha'n't tell people that she has to live
+like a pauper because I have done nothing for her! She wants to give the
+boy a bad opinion of me! I suppose she has poisoned his mind against me
+already!”
+
+“No,” said Mr. Havisham. “I have another message, which will prove to
+you that she has not done that.”
+
+“I don't want to hear it!” panted the Earl, out of breath with anger and
+excitement and gout.
+
+But Mr. Havisham delivered it.
+
+“She asks you not to let Lord Fauntleroy hear anything which would
+lead him to understand that you separate him from her because of your
+prejudice against her. He is very fond of her, and she is convinced that
+it would cause a barrier to exist between you. She says he would not
+comprehend it, and it might make him fear you in some measure, or at
+least cause him to feel less affection for you. She has told him that
+he is too young to understand the reason, but shall hear it when he is
+older. She wishes that there should be no shadow on your first meeting.”
+
+The Earl sank back into his chair. His deep-set fierce old eyes gleamed
+under his beetling brows.
+
+“Come, now!” he said, still breathlessly. “Come, now! You don't mean the
+mother hasn't told him?”
+
+“Not one word, my lord,” replied the lawyer coolly. “That I can
+assure you. The child is prepared to believe you the most amiable and
+affectionate of grandparents. Nothing--absolutely nothing has been said
+to him to give him the slightest doubt of your perfection. And as
+I carried out your commands in every detail, while in New York, he
+certainly regards you as a wonder of generosity.”
+
+“He does, eh?” said the Earl.
+
+“I give you my word of honor,” said Mr. Havisham, “that Lord
+Fauntleroy's impressions of you will depend entirely upon yourself. And
+if you will pardon the liberty I take in making the suggestion, I think
+you will succeed better with him if you take the precaution not to speak
+slightingly of his mother.”
+
+“Pooh, pooh!” said the Earl. “The youngster is only seven years old!”
+
+“He has spent those seven years at his mother's side,” returned Mr.
+Havisham; “and she has all his affection.”
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+It was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing little Lord
+Fauntleroy and Mr. Havisham drove up the long avenue which led to the
+castle. The Earl had given orders that his grandson should arrive in
+time to dine with him; and for some reason best known to himself, he had
+also ordered that the child should be sent alone into the room in which
+he intended to receive him. As the carriage rolled up the avenue, Lord
+Fauntleroy sat leaning comfortably against the luxurious cushions, and
+regarded the prospect with great interest. He was, in fact, interested
+in everything he saw. He had been interested in the carriage, with
+its large, splendid horses and their glittering harness; he had been
+interested in the tall coachman and footman, with their resplendent
+livery; and he had been especially interested in the coronet on the
+panels, and had struck up an acquaintance with the footman for the
+purpose of inquiring what it meant.
+
+When the carriage reached the great gates of the park, he looked out of
+the window to get a good view of the huge stone lions ornamenting the
+entrance. The gates were opened by a motherly, rosy-looking woman, who
+came out of a pretty, ivy-covered lodge. Two children ran out of the
+door of the house and stood looking with round, wide-open eyes at the
+little boy in the carriage, who looked at them also. Their mother stood
+courtesying and smiling, and the children, on receiving a sign from her,
+made bobbing little courtesies too.
+
+“Does she know me?” asked Lord Fauntleroy. “I think she must think she
+knows me.” And he took off his black velvet cap to her and smiled.
+
+“How do you do?” he said brightly. “Good-afternoon!”
+
+The woman seemed pleased, he thought. The smile broadened on her rosy
+face and a kind look came into her blue eyes.
+
+“God bless your lordship!” she said. “God bless your pretty face! Good
+luck and happiness to your lordship! Welcome to you!”
+
+Lord Fauntleroy waved his cap and nodded to her again as the carriage
+rolled by her.
+
+“I like that woman,” he said. “She looks as if she liked boys. I should
+like to come here and play with her children. I wonder if she has enough
+to make up a company?”
+
+Mr. Havisham did not tell him that he would scarcely be allowed to make
+playmates of the gate-keeper's children. The lawyer thought there was
+time enough for giving him that information.
+
+The carriage rolled on and on between the great, beautiful trees which
+grew on each side of the avenue and stretched their broad, swaying
+branches in an arch across it. Cedric had never seen such trees,--they
+were so grand and stately, and their branches grew so low down on their
+huge trunks. He did not then know that Dorincourt Castle was one of the
+most beautiful in all England; that its park was one of the broadest and
+finest, and its trees and avenue almost without rivals. But he did know
+that it was all very beautiful. He liked the big, broad-branched trees,
+with the late afternoon sunlight striking golden lances through them. He
+liked the perfect stillness which rested on everything. He felt a great,
+strange pleasure in the beauty of which he caught glimpses under and
+between the sweeping boughs--the great, beautiful spaces of the park,
+with still other trees standing sometimes stately and alone, and
+sometimes in groups. Now and then they passed places where tall ferns
+grew in masses, and again and again the ground was azure with the
+bluebells swaying in the soft breeze. Several times he started up with
+a laugh of delight as a rabbit leaped up from under the greenery and
+scudded away with a twinkle of short white tail behind it. Once a covey
+of partridges rose with a sudden whir and flew away, and then he shouted
+and clapped his hands.
+
+“It's a beautiful place, isn't it?” he said to Mr. Havisham. “I never
+saw such a beautiful place. It's prettier even than Central Park.”
+
+He was rather puzzled by the length of time they were on their way.
+
+“How far is it,” he said, at length, “from the gate to the front door?”
+
+“It is between three and four miles,” answered the lawyer.
+
+“That's a long way for a person to live from his gate,” remarked his
+lordship.
+
+Every few minutes he saw something new to wonder at and admire. When he
+caught sight of the deer, some couched in the grass, some standing with
+their pretty antlered heads turned with a half-startled air toward the
+avenue as the carriage wheels disturbed them, he was enchanted.
+
+“Has there been a circus?” he cried; “or do they live here always? Whose
+are they?”
+
+“They live here,” Mr. Havisham told him. “They belong to the Earl, your
+grandfather.”
+
+It was not long after this that they saw the castle. It rose up before
+them stately and beautiful and gray, the last rays of the sun casting
+dazzling lights on its many windows. It had turrets and battlements and
+towers; a great deal of ivy grew upon its walls; all the broad, open
+space about it was laid out in terraces and lawns and beds of brilliant
+flowers.
+
+“It's the most beautiful place I ever saw!” said Cedric, his round face
+flushing with pleasure. “It reminds any one of a king's palace. I saw a
+picture of one once in a fairy-book.”
+
+He saw the great entrance-door thrown open and many servants standing in
+two lines looking at him. He wondered why they were standing there, and
+admired their liveries very much. He did not know that they were there
+to do honor to the little boy to whom all this splendor would one
+day belong,--the beautiful castle like the fairy king's palace, the
+magnificent park, the grand old trees, the dells full of ferns and
+bluebells where the hares and rabbits played, the dappled, large-eyed
+deer couching in the deep grass. It was only a couple of weeks since he
+had sat with Mr. Hobbs among the potatoes and canned peaches, with his
+legs dangling from the high stool; it would not have been possible for
+him to realize that he had very much to do with all this grandeur. At
+the head of the line of servants there stood an elderly woman in a rich,
+plain black silk gown; she had gray hair and wore a cap. As he entered
+the hall she stood nearer than the rest, and the child thought from the
+look in her eyes that she was going to speak to him. Mr. Havisham, who
+held his hand, paused a moment.
+
+“This is Lord Fauntleroy, Mrs. Mellon,” he said. “Lord Fauntleroy, this
+is Mrs. Mellon, who is the housekeeper.”
+
+Cedric gave her his hand, his eyes lighting up.
+
+“Was it you who sent the cat?” he said. “I'm much obliged to you,
+ma'am.”
+
+Mrs. Mellon's handsome old face looked as pleased as the face of the
+lodge-keeper's wife had done.
+
+“I should know his lordship anywhere,” she said to Mr. Havisham. “He has
+the Captain's face and way. It's a great day, this, sir.”
+
+Cedric wondered why it was a great day. He looked at Mrs. Mellon
+curiously. It seemed to him for a moment as if there were tears in her
+eyes, and yet it was evident she was not unhappy. She smiled down on
+him.
+
+“The cat left two beautiful kittens here,” she said; “they shall be sent
+up to your lordship's nursery.”
+
+Mr. Havisham said a few words to her in a low voice.
+
+“In the library, sir,” Mrs. Mellon replied. “His lordship is to be taken
+there alone.”
+
+
+A few minutes later, the very tall footman in livery, who had escorted
+Cedric to the library door, opened it and announced: “Lord Fauntleroy,
+my lord,” in quite a majestic tone. If he was only a footman, he felt it
+was rather a grand occasion when the heir came home to his own land and
+possessions, and was ushered into the presence of the old Earl, whose
+place and title he was to take.
+
+Cedric crossed the threshold into the room. It was a very large and
+splendid room, with massive carven furniture in it, and shelves upon
+shelves of books; the furniture was so dark, and the draperies so heavy,
+the diamond-paned windows were so deep, and it seemed such a distance
+from one end of it to the other, that, since the sun had gone down, the
+effect of it all was rather gloomy. For a moment Cedric thought there
+was nobody in the room, but soon he saw that by the fire burning on the
+wide hearth there was a large easy-chair and that in that chair some one
+was sitting--some one who did not at first turn to look at him.
+
+But he had attracted attention in one quarter at least. On the floor,
+by the arm-chair, lay a dog, a huge tawny mastiff, with body and limbs
+almost as big as a lion's; and this great creature rose majestically and
+slowly, and marched toward the little fellow with a heavy step.
+
+Then the person in the chair spoke. “Dougal,” he called, “come back,
+sir.”
+
+But there was no more fear in little Lord Fauntleroy's heart than there
+was unkindness--he had been a brave little fellow all his life. He put
+his hand on the big dog's collar in the most natural way in the world,
+and they strayed forward together, Dougal sniffing as he went.
+
+And then the Earl looked up. What Cedric saw was a large old man with
+shaggy white hair and eyebrows, and a nose like an eagle's beak between
+his deep, fierce eyes. What the Earl saw was a graceful, childish figure
+in a black velvet suit, with a lace collar, and with love-locks waving
+about the handsome, manly little face, whose eyes met his with a look of
+innocent good-fellowship. If the Castle was like the palace in a fairy
+story, it must be owned that little Lord Fauntleroy was himself rather
+like a small copy of the fairy prince, though he was not at all aware
+of the fact, and perhaps was rather a sturdy young model of a fairy.
+But there was a sudden glow of triumph and exultation in the fiery old
+Earl's heart as he saw what a strong, beautiful boy this grandson was,
+and how unhesitatingly he looked up as he stood with his hand on the big
+dog's neck. It pleased the grim old nobleman that the child should show
+no shyness or fear, either of the dog or of himself.
+
+Cedric looked at him just as he had looked at the woman at the lodge and
+at the housekeeper, and came quite close to him.
+
+“Are you the Earl?” he said. “I'm your grandson, you know, that Mr.
+Havisham brought. I'm Lord Fauntleroy.”
+
+He held out his hand because he thought it must be the polite and proper
+thing to do even with earls. “I hope you are very well,” he continued,
+with the utmost friendliness. “I'm very glad to see you.”
+
+The Earl shook hands with him, with a curious gleam in his eyes; just at
+first, he was so astonished that he scarcely knew what to say. He stared
+at the picturesque little apparition from under his shaggy brows, and
+took it all in from head to foot.
+
+“Glad to see me, are you?” he said.
+
+“Yes,” answered Lord Fauntleroy, “very.”
+
+There was a chair near him, and he sat down on it; it was a high-backed,
+rather tall chair, and his feet did not touch the floor when he had
+settled himself in it, but he seemed to be quite comfortable as he sat
+there, and regarded his august relative intently but modestly.
+
+“I've kept wondering what you would look like,” he remarked. “I used to
+lie in my berth in the ship and wonder if you would be anything like my
+father.”
+
+“Am I?” asked the Earl.
+
+“Well,” Cedric replied, “I was very young when he died, and I may not
+remember exactly how he looked, but I don't think you are like him.”
+
+“You are disappointed, I suppose?” suggested his grandfather.
+
+“Oh, no,” responded Cedric politely. “Of course you would like any one
+to look like your father; but of course you would enjoy the way your
+grandfather looked, even if he wasn't like your father. You know how it
+is yourself about admiring your relations.”
+
+The Earl leaned back in his chair and stared. He could not be said to
+know how it was about admiring his relations. He had employed most of
+his noble leisure in quarreling violently with them, in turning them out
+of his house, and applying abusive epithets to them; and they all hated
+him cordially.
+
+“Any boy would love his grandfather,” continued Lord Fauntleroy,
+“especially one that had been as kind to him as you have been.”
+
+Another queer gleam came into the old nobleman's eyes.
+
+“Oh!” he said, “I have been kind to you, have I?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Lord Fauntleroy brightly; “I'm ever so much obliged to
+you about Bridget, and the apple-woman, and Dick.”
+
+“Bridget!” exclaimed the Earl. “Dick! The apple-woman!”
+
+“Yes!” explained Cedric; “the ones you gave me all that money for--the
+money you told Mr. Havisham to give me if I wanted it.”
+
+“Ha!” ejaculated his lordship. “That's it, is it? The money you were
+to spend as you liked. What did you buy with it? I should like to hear
+something about that.”
+
+He drew his shaggy eyebrows together and looked at the child sharply. He
+was secretly curious to know in what way the lad had indulged himself.
+
+“Oh!” said Lord Fauntleroy, “perhaps you didn't know about Dick and the
+apple-woman and Bridget. I forgot you lived such a long way off from
+them. They were particular friends of mine. And you see Michael had the
+fever----”
+
+“Who's Michael?” asked the Earl.
+
+“Michael is Bridget's husband, and they were in great trouble. When a
+man is sick and can't work and has twelve children, you know how it is.
+And Michael has always been a sober man. And Bridget used to come to our
+house and cry. And the evening Mr. Havisham was there, she was in the
+kitchen crying, because they had almost nothing to eat and couldn't pay
+the rent; and I went in to see her, and Mr. Havisham sent for me and he
+said you had given him some money for me. And I ran as fast as I could
+into the kitchen and gave it to Bridget; and that made it all right; and
+Bridget could scarcely believe her eyes. That's why I'm so obliged to
+you.”
+
+“Oh!” said the Earl in his deep voice, “that was one of the things you
+did for yourself, was it? What else?”
+
+Dougal had been sitting by the tall chair; the great dog had taken its
+place there when Cedric sat down. Several times it had turned and looked
+up at the boy as if interested in the conversation. Dougal was a
+solemn dog, who seemed to feel altogether too big to take life's
+responsibilities lightly. The old Earl, who knew the dog well, had
+watched it with secret interest. Dougal was not a dog whose habit it was
+to make acquaintances rashly, and the Earl wondered somewhat to see how
+quietly the brute sat under the touch of the childish hand. And, just
+at this moment, the big dog gave little Lord Fauntleroy one more look
+of dignified scrutiny, and deliberately laid its huge, lion-like head on
+the boy's black-velvet knee.
+
+The small hand went on stroking this new friend as Cedric answered:
+
+“Well, there was Dick,” he said. “You'd like Dick, he's so square.”
+
+This was an Americanism the Earl was not prepared for.
+
+“What does that mean?” he inquired.
+
+Lord Fauntleroy paused a moment to reflect. He was not very sure himself
+what it meant. He had taken it for granted as meaning something very
+creditable because Dick had been fond of using it.
+
+“I think it means that he wouldn't cheat any one,” he exclaimed; “or
+hit a boy who was under his size, and that he blacks people's boots
+very well and makes them shine as much as he can. He's a perfessional
+bootblack.”
+
+“And he's one of your acquaintances, is he?” said the Earl.
+
+“He is an old friend of mine,” replied his grandson. “Not quite as old
+as Mr. Hobbs, but quite old. He gave me a present just before the ship
+sailed.”
+
+He put his hand into his pocket and drew forth a neatly folded red
+object and opened it with an air of affectionate pride. It was the red
+silk handkerchief with the large purple horse-shoes and heads on it.
+
+“He gave me this,” said his young lordship. “I shall keep it always. You
+can wear it round your neck or keep it in your pocket. He bought it with
+the first money he earned after I bought Jake out and gave him the new
+brushes. It's a keepsake. I put some poetry in Mr. Hobbs's watch. It
+was, 'When this you see, remember me.' When this I see, I shall always
+remember Dick.”
+
+The sensations of the Right Honorable the Earl of Dorincourt could
+scarcely be described. He was not an old nobleman who was very easily
+bewildered, because he had seen a great deal of the world; but here was
+something he found so novel that it almost took his lordly breath away,
+and caused him some singular emotions. He had never cared for children;
+he had been so occupied with his own pleasures that he had never had
+time to care for them. His own sons had not interested him when they
+were very young--though sometimes he remembered having thought Cedric's
+father a handsome and strong little fellow. He had been so selfish
+himself that he had missed the pleasure of seeing unselfishness in
+others, and he had not known how tender and faithful and affectionate a
+kind-hearted little child can be, and how innocent and unconscious are
+its simple, generous impulses. A boy had always seemed to him a most
+objectionable little animal, selfish and greedy and boisterous when not
+under strict restraint; his own two eldest sons had given their tutors
+constant trouble and annoyance, and of the younger one he fancied he had
+heard few complaints because the boy was of no particular importance. It
+had never once occurred to him that he should like his grandson; he had
+sent for the little Cedric because his pride impelled him to do so. If
+the boy was to take his place in the future, he did not wish his name
+to be made ridiculous by descending to an uneducated boor. He had been
+convinced the boy would be a clownish fellow if he were brought up in
+America. He had no feeling of affection for the lad; his only hope was
+that he should find him decently well-featured, and with a respectable
+share of sense; he had been so disappointed in his other sons, and had
+been made so furious by Captain Errol's American marriage, that he had
+never once thought that anything creditable could come of it. When the
+footman had announced Lord Fauntleroy, he had almost dreaded to look at
+the boy lest he should find him all that he had feared. It was because
+of this feeling that he had ordered that the child should be sent to
+him alone. His pride could not endure that others should see his
+disappointment if he was to be disappointed. His proud, stubborn old
+heart therefore had leaped within him when the boy came forward with his
+graceful, easy carriage, his fearless hand on the big dog's neck. Even
+in the moments when he had hoped the most, the Earl had never hoped that
+his grandson would look like that. It seemed almost too good to be true
+that this should be the boy he had dreaded to see--the child of the
+woman he so disliked--this little fellow with so much beauty and such
+a brave, childish grace! The Earl's stern composure was quite shaken by
+this startling surprise.
+
+And then their talk began; and he was still more curiously moved, and
+more and more puzzled. In the first place, he was so used to seeing
+people rather afraid and embarrassed before him, that he had expected
+nothing else but that his grandson would be timid or shy. But Cedric was
+no more afraid of the Earl than he had been of Dougal. He was not bold;
+he was only innocently friendly, and he was not conscious that there
+could be any reason why he should be awkward or afraid. The Earl could
+not help seeing that the little boy took him for a friend and treated
+him as one, without having any doubt of him at all. It was quite plain
+as the little fellow sat there in his tall chair and talked in his
+friendly way that it had never occurred to him that this large,
+fierce-looking old man could be anything but kind to him, and rather
+pleased to see him there. And it was plain, too, that, in his childish
+way, he wished to please and interest his grandfather. Cross, and
+hard-hearted, and worldly as the old Earl was, he could not help feeling
+a secret and novel pleasure in this very confidence. After all, it was
+not disagreeable to meet some one who did not distrust him or shrink
+from him, or seem to detect the ugly part of his nature; some one who
+looked at him with clear, unsuspecting eyes,--if it was only a little
+boy in a black velvet suit.
+
+So the old man leaned back in his chair, and led his young companion
+on to telling him still more of himself, and with that odd gleam in his
+eyes watched the little fellow as he talked. Lord Fauntleroy was quite
+willing to answer all his questions and chatted on in his genial little
+way quite composedly. He told him all about Dick and Jake, and the
+apple-woman, and Mr. Hobbs; he described the Republican Rally in all
+the glory of its banners and transparencies, torches and rockets. In
+the course of the conversation, he reached the Fourth of July and
+the Revolution, and was just becoming enthusiastic, when he suddenly
+recollected something and stopped very abruptly.
+
+“What is the matter?” demanded his grandfather. “Why don't you go on?”
+
+Lord Fauntleroy moved rather uneasily in his chair. It was evident to
+the Earl that he was embarrassed by the thought which had just occurred
+to him.
+
+“I was just thinking that perhaps you mightn't like it,” he replied.
+“Perhaps some one belonging to you might have been there. I forgot you
+were an Englishman.”
+
+“You can go on,” said my lord. “No one belonging to me was there. You
+forgot you were an Englishman, too.”
+
+“Oh! no,” said Cedric quickly. “I'm an American!”
+
+“You are an Englishman,” said the Earl grimly. “Your father was an
+Englishman.”
+
+It amused him a little to say this, but it did not amuse Cedric. The lad
+had never thought of such a development as this. He felt himself grow
+quite hot up to the roots of his hair.
+
+“I was born in America,” he protested. “You have to be an American if
+you are born in America. I beg your pardon,” with serious politeness
+and delicacy, “for contradicting you. Mr. Hobbs told me, if there were
+another war, you know, I should have to--to be an American.”
+
+The Earl gave a grim half laugh--it was short and grim, but it was a
+laugh.
+
+“You would, would you?” he said.
+
+He hated America and Americans, but it amused him to see how serious and
+interested this small patriot was. He thought that so good an American
+might make a rather good Englishman when he was a man.
+
+They had not time to go very deep into the Revolution again--and
+indeed Lord Fauntleroy felt some delicacy about returning to the
+subject--before dinner was announced.
+
+Cedric left his chair and went to his noble kinsman. He looked down at
+his gouty foot.
+
+“Would you like me to help you?” he said politely. “You could lean on
+me, you know. Once when Mr. Hobbs hurt his foot with a potato-barrel
+rolling on it, he used to lean on me.”
+
+The big footman almost periled his reputation and his situation by
+smiling. He was an aristocratic footman who had always lived in the best
+of noble families, and he had never smiled; indeed, he would have felt
+himself a disgraced and vulgar footman if he had allowed himself to be
+led by any circumstance whatever into such an indiscretion as a smile.
+But he had a very narrow escape. He only just saved himself by staring
+straight over the Earl's head at a very ugly picture.
+
+The Earl looked his valiant young relative over from head to foot.
+
+“Do you think you could do it?” he asked gruffly.
+
+“I THINK I could,” said Cedric. “I'm strong. I'm seven, you know. You
+could lean on your stick on one side, and on me on the other. Dick says
+I've a good deal of muscle for a boy that's only seven.”
+
+He shut his hand and moved it upward to his shoulder, so that the Earl
+might see the muscle Dick had kindly approved of, and his face was so
+grave and earnest that the footman found it necessary to look very hard
+indeed at the ugly picture.
+
+“Well,” said the Earl, “you may try.”
+
+Cedric gave him his stick and began to assist him to rise. Usually, the
+footman did this, and was violently sworn at when his lordship had an
+extra twinge of gout. The Earl was not a very polite person as a rule,
+and many a time the huge footmen about him quaked inside their imposing
+liveries.
+
+But this evening he did not swear, though his gouty foot gave him more
+twinges than one. He chose to try an experiment. He got up slowly
+and put his hand on the small shoulder presented to him with so much
+courage. Little Lord Fauntleroy made a careful step forward, looking
+down at the gouty foot.
+
+“Just lean on me,” he said, with encouraging good cheer. “I'll walk very
+slowly.”
+
+If the Earl had been supported by the footman he would have rested less
+on his stick and more on his assistant's arm. And yet it was part of his
+experiment to let his grandson feel his burden as no light weight.
+It was quite a heavy weight indeed, and after a few steps his young
+lordship's face grew quite hot, and his heart beat rather fast, but he
+braced himself sturdily, remembering his muscle and Dick's approval of
+it.
+
+“Don't be afraid of leaning on me,” he panted. “I'm all right--if--if it
+isn't a very long way.”
+
+It was not really very far to the dining-room, but it seemed rather a
+long way to Cedric, before they reached the chair at the head of the
+table. The hand on his shoulder seemed to grow heavier at every step,
+and his face grew redder and hotter, and his breath shorter, but he
+never thought of giving up; he stiffened his childish muscles, held his
+head erect, and encouraged the Earl as he limped along.
+
+“Does your foot hurt you very much when you stand on it?” he asked. “Did
+you ever put it in hot water and mustard? Mr. Hobbs used to put his in
+hot water. Arnica is a very nice thing, they tell me.”
+
+The big dog stalked slowly beside them, and the big footman followed;
+several times he looked very queer as he watched the little figure
+making the very most of all its strength, and bearing its burden with
+such good-will. The Earl, too, looked rather queer, once, as he glanced
+sidewise down at the flushed little face. When they entered the room
+where they were to dine, Cedric saw it was a very large and imposing
+one, and that the footman who stood behind the chair at the head of the
+table stared very hard as they came in.
+
+But they reached the chair at last. The hand was removed from his
+shoulder, and the Earl was fairly seated.
+
+Cedric took out Dick's handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
+
+“It's a warm night, isn't it?” he said. “Perhaps you need a fire
+because--because of your foot, but it seems just a little warm to me.”
+
+His delicate consideration for his noble relative's feelings was such
+that he did not wish to seem to intimate that any of his surroundings
+were unnecessary.
+
+“You have been doing some rather hard work,” said the Earl.
+
+“Oh, no!” said Lord Fauntleroy, “it wasn't exactly hard, but I got a
+little warm. A person will get warm in summer time.”
+
+And he rubbed his damp curls rather vigorously with the gorgeous
+handkerchief. His own chair was placed at the other end of the table,
+opposite his grandfather's. It was a chair with arms, and intended for
+a much larger individual than himself; indeed, everything he had seen so
+far,--the great rooms, with their high ceilings, the massive furniture,
+the big footman, the big dog, the Earl himself,--were all of proportions
+calculated to make this little lad feel that he was very small, indeed.
+But that did not trouble him; he had never thought himself very large
+or important, and he was quite willing to accommodate himself even to
+circumstances which rather overpowered him.
+
+Perhaps he had never looked so little a fellow as when seated now in
+his great chair, at the end of the table. Notwithstanding his solitary
+existence, the Earl chose to live in some state. He was fond of his
+dinner, and he dined in a formal style. Cedric looked at him across
+a glitter of splendid glass and plate, which to his unaccustomed eyes
+seemed quite dazzling. A stranger looking on might well have smiled at
+the picture,--the great stately room, the big liveried servants, the
+bright lights, the glittering silver and glass, the fierce-looking old
+nobleman at the head of the table and the very small boy at the foot.
+Dinner was usually a very serious matter with the Earl--and it was a
+very serious matter with the cook, if his lordship was not pleased or
+had an indifferent appetite. To-day, however, his appetite seemed a
+trifle better than usual, perhaps because he had something to think of
+beside the flavor of the entrees and the management of the gravies. His
+grandson gave him something to think of. He kept looking at him across
+the table. He did not say very much himself, but he managed to make the
+boy talk. He had never imagined that he could be entertained by hearing
+a child talk, but Lord Fauntleroy at once puzzled and amused him, and
+he kept remembering how he had let the childish shoulder feel his weight
+just for the sake of trying how far the boy's courage and endurance
+would go, and it pleased him to know that his grandson had not quailed
+and had not seemed to think even for a moment of giving up what he had
+undertaken to do.
+
+“You don't wear your coronet all the time?” remarked Lord Fauntleroy
+respectfully.
+
+“No,” replied the Earl, with his grim smile; “it is not becoming to me.”
+
+“Mr. Hobbs said you always wore it,” said Cedric; “but after he thought
+it over, he said he supposed you must sometimes take it off to put your
+hat on.”
+
+“Yes,” said the Earl, “I take it off occasionally.”
+
+And one of the footmen suddenly turned aside and gave a singular little
+cough behind his hand.
+
+Cedric finished his dinner first, and then he leaned back in his chair
+and took a survey of the room.
+
+“You must be very proud of your house,” he said, “it's such a beautiful
+house. I never saw anything so beautiful; but, of course, as I'm only
+seven, I haven't seen much.”
+
+“And you think I must be proud of it, do you?” said the Earl.
+
+“I should think any one would be proud of it,” replied Lord Fauntleroy.
+“I should be proud of it if it were my house. Everything about it is
+beautiful. And the park, and those trees,--how beautiful they are, and
+how the leaves rustle!”
+
+Then he paused an instant and looked across the table rather wistfully.
+
+“It's a very big house for just two people to live in, isn't it?” he
+said.
+
+“It is quite large enough for two,” answered the Earl. “Do you find it
+too large?”
+
+His little lordship hesitated a moment.
+
+“I was only thinking,” he said, “that if two people lived in it who were
+not very good companions, they might feel lonely sometimes.”
+
+“Do you think I shall make a good companion?” inquired the Earl.
+
+“Yes,” replied Cedric, “I think you will. Mr. Hobbs and I were great
+friends. He was the best friend I had except Dearest.”
+
+The Earl made a quick movement of his bushy eyebrows.
+
+“Who is Dearest?”
+
+“She is my mother,” said Lord Fauntleroy, in a rather low, quiet little
+voice.
+
+Perhaps he was a trifle tired, as his bed-time was nearing, and perhaps
+after the excitement of the last few days it was natural he should be
+tired, so perhaps, too, the feeling of weariness brought to him a vague
+sense of loneliness in the remembrance that to-night he was not to sleep
+at home, watched over by the loving eyes of that “best friend” of his.
+They had always been “best friends,” this boy and his young mother. He
+could not help thinking of her, and the more he thought of her the less
+was he inclined to talk, and by the time the dinner was at an end the
+Earl saw that there was a faint shadow on his face. But Cedric bore
+himself with excellent courage, and when they went back to the library,
+though the tall footman walked on one side of his master, the Earl's
+hand rested on his grandson's shoulder, though not so heavily as before.
+
+When the footman left them alone, Cedric sat down upon the hearth-rug
+near Dougal. For a few minutes he stroked the dog's ears in silence and
+looked at the fire.
+
+The Earl watched him. The boy's eyes looked wistful and thoughtful, and
+once or twice he gave a little sigh. The Earl sat still, and kept his
+eyes fixed on his grandson.
+
+“Fauntleroy,” he said at last, “what are you thinking of?”
+
+Fauntleroy looked up with a manful effort at a smile.
+
+“I was thinking about Dearest,” he said; “and--and I think I'd better
+get up and walk up and down the room.”
+
+He rose up, and put his hands in his small pockets, and began to walk to
+and fro. His eyes were very bright, and his lips were pressed together,
+but he kept his head up and walked firmly. Dougal moved lazily and
+looked at him, and then stood up. He walked over to the child, and began
+to follow him uneasily. Fauntleroy drew one hand from his pocket and
+laid it on the dog's head.
+
+“He's a very nice dog,” he said. “He's my friend. He knows how I feel.”
+
+“How do you feel?” asked the Earl.
+
+It disturbed him to see the struggle the little fellow was having with
+his first feeling of homesickness, but it pleased him to see that he
+was making so brave an effort to bear it well. He liked this childish
+courage.
+
+“Come here,” he said.
+
+Fauntleroy went to him.
+
+“I never was away from my own house before,” said the boy, with a
+troubled look in his brown eyes. “It makes a person feel a strange
+feeling when he has to stay all night in another person's castle instead
+of in his own house. But Dearest is not very far away from me. She told
+me to remember that--and--and I'm seven--and I can look at the picture
+she gave me.”
+
+He put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a small violet
+velvet-covered case.
+
+“This is it,” he said. “You see, you press this spring and it opens, and
+she is in there!”
+
+He had come close to the Earl's chair, and, as he drew forth the little
+case, he leaned against the arm of it, and against the old man's arm,
+too, as confidingly as if children had always leaned there.
+
+“There she is,” he said, as the case opened; and he looked up with a
+smile.
+
+The Earl knitted his brows; he did not wish to see the picture, but he
+looked at it in spite of himself; and there looked up at him from it
+such a pretty young face--a face so like the child's at his side--that
+it quite startled him.
+
+“I suppose you think you are very fond of her,” he said.
+
+“Yes,” answered Lord Fauntleroy, in a gentle tone, and with simple
+directness; “I do think so, and I think it's true. You see, Mr. Hobbs
+was my friend, and Dick and Bridget and Mary and Michael, they were my
+friends, too; but Dearest--well, she is my CLOSE friend, and we always
+tell each other everything. My father left her to me to take care of,
+and when I am a man I am going to work and earn money for her.”
+
+“What do you think of doing?” inquired his grandfather.
+
+His young lordship slipped down upon the hearth-rug, and sat there with
+the picture still in his hand. He seemed to be reflecting seriously,
+before he answered.
+
+“I did think perhaps I might go into business with Mr. Hobbs,” he said;
+“but I should LIKE to be a President.”
+
+“We'll send you to the House of Lords instead,” said his grandfather.
+
+“Well,” remarked Lord Fauntleroy, “if I COULDN'T be a President, and if
+that is a good business, I shouldn't mind. The grocery business is dull
+sometimes.”
+
+Perhaps he was weighing the matter in his mind, for he sat very quiet
+after this, and looked at the fire for some time.
+
+The Earl did not speak again. He leaned back in his chair and watched
+him. A great many strange new thoughts passed through the old nobleman's
+mind. Dougal had stretched himself out and gone to sleep with his head
+on his huge paws. There was a long silence.
+
+
+In about half an hour's time Mr. Havisham was ushered in. The great room
+was very still when he entered. The Earl was still leaning back in his
+chair. He moved as Mr. Havisham approached, and held up his hand in a
+gesture of warning--it seemed as if he had scarcely intended to make the
+gesture--as if it were almost involuntary. Dougal was still asleep, and
+close beside the great dog, sleeping also, with his curly head upon his
+arm, lay little Lord Fauntleroy.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+When Lord Fauntleroy wakened in the morning,--he had not wakened at all
+when he had been carried to bed the night before,--the first sounds he
+was conscious of were the crackling of a wood fire and the murmur of
+voices.
+
+“You will be careful, Dawson, not to say anything about it,” he heard
+some one say. “He does not know why she is not to be with him, and the
+reason is to be kept from him.”
+
+“If them's his lordship's orders, mem,” another voice answered, “they'll
+have to be kep', I suppose. But, if you'll excuse the liberty, mem, as
+it's between ourselves, servant or no servant, all I have to say is,
+it's a cruel thing,--parting that poor, pretty, young widdered cre'tur'
+from her own flesh and blood, and him such a little beauty and a
+nobleman born. James and Thomas, mem, last night in the servants' hall,
+they both of 'em say as they never see anythink in their two lives--nor
+yet no other gentleman in livery--like that little fellow's ways, as
+innercent an' polite an' interested as if he'd been sitting there dining
+with his best friend,--and the temper of a' angel, instead of one (if
+you'll excuse me, mem), as it's well known, is enough to curdle your
+blood in your veins at times. And as to looks, mem, when we was rung
+for, James and me, to go into the library and bring him upstairs, and
+James lifted him up in his arms, what with his little innercent face
+all red and rosy, and his little head on James's shoulder and his hair
+hanging down, all curly an' shinin', a prettier, takiner sight you'd
+never wish to see. An' it's my opinion, my lord wasn't blind to it
+neither, for he looked at him, and he says to James, 'See you don't wake
+him!' he says.”
+
+Cedric moved on his pillow, and turned over, opening his eyes.
+
+There were two women in the room. Everything was bright and cheerful
+with gay-flowered chintz. There was a fire on the hearth, and the
+sunshine was streaming in through the ivy-entwined windows. Both women
+came toward him, and he saw that one of them was Mrs. Mellon, the
+housekeeper, and the other a comfortable, middle-aged woman, with a face
+as kind and good-humored as a face could be.
+
+“Good-morning, my lord,” said Mrs. Mellon. “Did you sleep well?”
+
+His lordship rubbed his eyes and smiled.
+
+“Good-morning,” he said. “I didn't know I was here.”
+
+“You were carried upstairs when you were asleep,” said the housekeeper.
+“This is your bedroom, and this is Dawson, who is to take care of you.”
+
+Fauntleroy sat up in bed and held out his hand to Dawson, as he had held
+it out to the Earl.
+
+“How do you do, ma'am?” he said. “I'm much obliged to you for coming to
+take care of me.”
+
+“You can call her Dawson, my lord,” said the housekeeper with a smile.
+“She is used to being called Dawson.”
+
+“MISS Dawson, or MRS. Dawson?” inquired his lordship.
+
+“Just Dawson, my lord,” said Dawson herself, beaming all over. “Neither
+Miss nor Missis, bless your little heart! Will you get up now, and let
+Dawson dress you, and then have your breakfast in the nursery?”
+
+“I learned to dress myself many years ago, thank you,” answered
+Fauntleroy. “Dearest taught me. 'Dearest' is my mamma. We had only Mary
+to do all the work,--washing and all,--and so of course it wouldn't do
+to give her so much trouble. I can take my bath, too, pretty well if
+you'll just be kind enough to 'zamine the corners after I'm done.”
+
+Dawson and the housekeeper exchanged glances.
+
+“Dawson will do anything you ask her to,” said Mrs. Mellon.
+
+“That I will, bless him,” said Dawson, in her comforting, good-humored
+voice. “He shall dress himself if he likes, and I'll stand by, ready to
+help him if he wants me.”
+
+“Thank you,” responded Lord Fauntleroy; “it's a little hard sometimes
+about the buttons, you know, and then I have to ask somebody.”
+
+He thought Dawson a very kind woman, and before the bath and the
+dressing were finished they were excellent friends, and he had found out
+a great deal about her. He had discovered that her husband had been a
+soldier and had been killed in a real battle, and that her son was a
+sailor, and was away on a long cruise, and that he had seen pirates and
+cannibals and Chinese people and Turks, and that he brought home strange
+shells and pieces of coral which Dawson was ready to show at any moment,
+some of them being in her trunk. All this was very interesting. He also
+found out that she had taken care of little children all her life, and
+that she had just come from a great house in another part of England,
+where she had been taking care of a beautiful little girl whose name was
+Lady Gwyneth Vaughn.
+
+“And she is a sort of relation of your lordship's,” said Dawson. “And
+perhaps sometime you may see her.”
+
+“Do you think I shall?” said Fauntleroy. “I should like that. I never
+knew any little girls, but I always like to look at them.”
+
+When he went into the adjoining room to take his breakfast, and saw
+what a great room it was, and found there was another adjoining it which
+Dawson told him was his also, the feeling that he was very small indeed
+came over him again so strongly that he confided it to Dawson, as he sat
+down to the table on which the pretty breakfast service was arranged.
+
+“I am a very little boy,” he said rather wistfully, “to live in such a
+large castle, and have so many big rooms,--don't you think so?”
+
+“Oh! come!” said Dawson, “you feel just a little strange at first,
+that's all; but you'll get over that very soon, and then you'll like it
+here. It's such a beautiful place, you know.”
+
+“It's a very beautiful place, of course,” said Fauntleroy, with a little
+sigh; “but I should like it better if I didn't miss Dearest so. I always
+had my breakfast with her in the morning, and put the sugar and cream in
+her tea for her, and handed her the toast. That made it very sociable,
+of course.”
+
+“Oh, well!” answered Dawson, comfortingly, “you know you can see her
+every day, and there's no knowing how much you'll have to tell her.
+Bless you! wait till you've walked about a bit and seen things,--the
+dogs, and the stables with all the horses in them. There's one of them I
+know you'll like to see----”
+
+“Is there?” exclaimed Fauntleroy; “I'm very fond of horses. I was very
+fond of Jim. He was the horse that belonged to Mr. Hobbs' grocery wagon.
+He was a beautiful horse when he wasn't balky.”
+
+“Well,” said Dawson, “you just wait till you've seen what's in the
+stables. And, deary me, you haven't looked even into the very next room
+yet!”
+
+“What is there?” asked Fauntleroy.
+
+“Wait until you've had your breakfast, and then you shall see,” said
+Dawson.
+
+At this he naturally began to grow curious, and he applied himself
+assiduously to his breakfast. It seemed to him that there must be
+something worth looking at, in the next room; Dawson had such a
+consequential, mysterious air.
+
+“Now, then,” he said, slipping off his seat a few minutes later; “I've
+had enough. Can I go and look at it?”
+
+Dawson nodded and led the way, looking more mysterious and important
+than ever. He began to be very much interested indeed.
+
+When she opened the door of the room, he stood upon the threshold and
+looked about him in amazement. He did not speak; he only put his hands
+in his pockets and stood there flushing up to his forehead and looking
+in.
+
+He flushed up because he was so surprised and, for the moment, excited.
+To see such a place was enough to surprise any ordinary boy.
+
+The room was a large one, too, as all the rooms seemed to be, and it
+appeared to him more beautiful than the rest, only in a different way.
+The furniture was not so massive and antique as was that in the rooms
+he had seen downstairs; the draperies and rugs and walls were brighter;
+there were shelves full of books, and on the tables were numbers of
+toys,--beautiful, ingenious things,--such as he had looked at with
+wonder and delight through the shop windows in New York.
+
+“It looks like a boy's room,” he said at last, catching his breath a
+little. “Whom do they belong to?”
+
+“Go and look at them,” said Dawson. “They belong to you!”
+
+“To me!” he cried; “to me? Why do they belong to me? Who gave them to
+me?” And he sprang forward with a gay little shout. It seemed almost
+too much to be believed. “It was Grandpapa!” he said, with his eyes as
+bright as stars. “I know it was Grandpapa!”
+
+“Yes, it was his lordship,” said Dawson; “and if you will be a nice
+little gentleman, and not fret about things, and will enjoy yourself,
+and be happy all the day, he will give you anything you ask for.”
+
+It was a tremendously exciting morning. There were so many things to be
+examined, so many experiments to be tried; each novelty was so absorbing
+that he could scarcely turn from it to look at the next. And it was so
+curious to know that all this had been prepared for himself alone; that,
+even before he had left New York, people had come down from London
+to arrange the rooms he was to occupy, and had provided the books and
+playthings most likely to interest him.
+
+“Did you ever know any one,” he said to Dawson, “who had such a kind
+grandfather!”
+
+Dawson's face wore an uncertain expression for a moment. She had not
+a very high opinion of his lordship the Earl. She had not been in the
+house many days, but she had been there long enough to hear the old
+nobleman's peculiarities discussed very freely in the servants' hall.
+
+“An' of all the wicious, savage, hill-tempered hold fellows it was ever
+my hill-luck to wear livery hunder,” the tallest footman had said, “he's
+the wiolentest and wust by a long shot.”
+
+And this particular footman, whose name was Thomas, had also repeated to
+his companions below stairs some of the Earl's remarks to Mr. Havisham,
+when they had been discussing these very preparations.
+
+“Give him his own way, and fill his rooms with toys,” my lord had said.
+“Give him what will amuse him, and he'll forget about his mother quickly
+enough. Amuse him, and fill his mind with other things, and we shall
+have no trouble. That's boy nature.”
+
+So, perhaps, having had this truly amiable object in view, it did not
+please him so very much to find it did not seem to be exactly this
+particular boy's nature. The Earl had passed a bad night and had spent
+the morning in his room; but at noon, after he had lunched, he sent for
+his grandson.
+
+Fauntleroy answered the summons at once. He came down the broad
+staircase with a bounding step; the Earl heard him run across the hall,
+and then the door opened and he came in with red cheeks and sparkling
+eyes.
+
+“I was waiting for you to send for me,” he said. “I was ready a long
+time ago. I'm EVER so much obliged to you for all those things! I'm EVER
+so much obliged to you! I have been playing with them all the morning.”
+
+“Oh!” said the Earl, “you like them, do you?”
+
+“I like them so much--well, I couldn't tell you how much!” said
+Fauntleroy, his face glowing with delight. “There's one that's like
+baseball, only you play it on a board with black and white pegs, and you
+keep your score with some counters on a wire. I tried to teach Dawson,
+but she couldn't quite understand it just at first--you see, she never
+played baseball, being a lady; and I'm afraid I wasn't very good at
+explaining it to her. But you know all about it, don't you?”
+
+“I'm afraid I don't,” replied the Earl. “It's an American game, isn't
+it? Is it something like cricket?”
+
+“I never saw cricket,” said Fauntleroy; “but Mr. Hobbs took me several
+times to see baseball. It's a splendid game. You get so excited! Would
+you like me to go and get my game and show it to you? Perhaps it would
+amuse you and make you forget about your foot. Does your foot hurt you
+very much this morning?”
+
+“More than I enjoy,” was the answer.
+
+“Then perhaps you couldn't forget it,” said the little fellow anxiously.
+“Perhaps it would bother you to be told about the game. Do you think it
+would amuse you, or do you think it would bother you?”
+
+“Go and get it,” said the Earl.
+
+It certainly was a novel entertainment this,--making a companion of a
+child who offered to teach him to play games,--but the very novelty of
+it amused him. There was a smile lurking about the Earl's mouth when
+Cedric came back with the box containing the game, in his arms, and an
+expression of the most eager interest on his face.
+
+“May I pull that little table over here to your chair?” he asked.
+
+“Ring for Thomas,” said the Earl. “He will place it for you.”
+
+“Oh, I can do it myself,” answered Fauntleroy. “It's not very heavy.”
+
+“Very well,” replied his grandfather. The lurking smile deepened on the
+old man's face as he watched the little fellow's preparations; there was
+such an absorbed interest in them. The small table was dragged forward
+and placed by his chair, and the game taken from its box and arranged
+upon it.
+
+“It's very interesting when you once begin,” said Fauntleroy. “You see,
+the black pegs can be your side and the white ones mine. They're men,
+you know, and once round the field is a home run and counts one--and
+these are the outs--and here is the first base and that's the second and
+that's the third and that's the home base.”
+
+He entered into the details of explanation with the greatest animation.
+He showed all the attitudes of pitcher and catcher and batter in the
+real game, and gave a dramatic description of a wonderful “hot ball”
+ he had seen caught on the glorious occasion on which he had witnessed a
+match in company with Mr. Hobbs. His vigorous, graceful little body, his
+eager gestures, his simple enjoyment of it all, were pleasant to behold.
+
+When at last the explanations and illustrations were at an end and the
+game began in good earnest, the Earl still found himself entertained.
+His young companion was wholly absorbed; he played with all his childish
+heart; his gay little laughs when he made a good throw, his enthusiasm
+over a “home run,” his impartial delight over his own good luck and his
+opponent's, would have given a flavor to any game.
+
+If, a week before, any one had told the Earl of Dorincourt that on that
+particular morning he would be forgetting his gout and his bad temper
+in a child's game, played with black and white wooden pegs, on a gayly
+painted board, with a curly-headed small boy for a companion, he would
+without doubt have made himself very unpleasant; and yet he certainly
+had forgotten himself when the door opened and Thomas announced a
+visitor.
+
+The visitor in question, who was an elderly gentleman in black, and no
+less a person than the clergyman of the parish, was so startled by the
+amazing scene which met his eye, that he almost fell back a pace, and
+ran some risk of colliding with Thomas.
+
+There was, in fact, no part of his duty that the Reverend Mr. Mordaunt
+found so decidedly unpleasant as that part which compelled him to call
+upon his noble patron at the Castle. His noble patron, indeed, usually
+made these visits as disagreeable as it lay in his lordly power to make
+them. He abhorred churches and charities, and flew into violent rages
+when any of his tenantry took the liberty of being poor and ill and
+needing assistance. When his gout was at its worst, he did not hesitate
+to announce that he would not be bored and irritated by being told
+stories of their miserable misfortunes; when his gout troubled him less
+and he was in a somewhat more humane frame of mind, he would perhaps
+give the rector some money, after having bullied him in the most
+painful manner, and berated the whole parish for its shiftlessness and
+imbecility. But, whatsoever his mood, he never failed to make as many
+sarcastic and embarrassing speeches as possible, and to cause the
+Reverend Mr. Mordaunt to wish it were proper and Christian-like to throw
+something heavy at him. During all the years in which Mr. Mordaunt
+had been in charge of Dorincourt parish, the rector certainly did not
+remember having seen his lordship, of his own free will, do any one a
+kindness, or, under any circumstances whatever, show that he thought of
+any one but himself.
+
+He had called to-day to speak to him of a specially pressing case, and
+as he had walked up the avenue, he had, for two reasons, dreaded his
+visit more than usual. In the first place, he knew that his lordship
+had for several days been suffering with the gout, and had been in
+so villainous a humor that rumors of it had even reached the
+village--carried there by one of the young women servants, to her
+sister, who kept a little shop and retailed darning-needles and cotton
+and peppermints and gossip, as a means of earning an honest living.
+What Mrs. Dibble did not know about the Castle and its inmates, and the
+farm-houses and their inmates, and the village and its population, was
+really not worth being talked about. And of course she knew everything
+about the Castle, because her sister, Jane Shorts, was one of the upper
+housemaids, and was very friendly and intimate with Thomas.
+
+“And the way his lordship do go on!” said Mrs. Dibble, over the counter,
+“and the way he do use language, Mr. Thomas told Jane herself, no flesh
+and blood as is in livery could stand--for throw a plate of toast at Mr.
+Thomas, hisself, he did, not more than two days since, and if it weren't
+for other things being agreeable and the society below stairs most
+genteel, warning would have been gave within a' hour!”
+
+And the rector had heard all this, for somehow the Earl was a favorite
+black sheep in the cottages and farm-houses, and his bad behavior gave
+many a good woman something to talk about when she had company to tea.
+
+And the second reason was even worse, because it was a new one and had
+been talked about with the most excited interest.
+
+Who did not know of the old nobleman's fury when his handsome son the
+Captain had married the American lady? Who did not know how cruelly he
+had treated the Captain, and how the big, gay, sweet-smiling young man,
+who was the only member of the grand family any one liked, had died in
+a foreign land, poor and unforgiven? Who did not know how fiercely his
+lordship had hated the poor young creature who had been this son's wife,
+and how he had hated the thought of her child and never meant to see the
+boy--until his two sons died and left him without an heir? And then,
+who did not know that he had looked forward without any affection or
+pleasure to his grandson's coming, and that he had made up his mind that
+he should find the boy a vulgar, awkward, pert American lad, more likely
+to disgrace his noble name than to honor it?
+
+The proud, angry old man thought he had kept all his thoughts secret. He
+did not suppose any one had dared to guess at, much less talk over what
+he felt, and dreaded; but his servants watched him, and read his
+face and his ill-humors and fits of gloom, and discussed them in the
+servants' hall. And while he thought himself quite secure from the
+common herd, Thomas was telling Jane and the cook, and the butler, and
+the housemaids and the other footmen that it was his opinion that “the
+hold man was wuss than usual a-thinkin' hover the Capting's boy, an'
+hanticipatin' as he won't be no credit to the fambly. An' serve him
+right,” added Thomas; “hit's 'is hown fault. Wot can he iggspect from a
+child brought up in pore circumstances in that there low Hamerica?”
+
+And as the Reverend Mr. Mordaunt walked under the great trees, he
+remembered that this questionable little boy had arrived at the Castle
+only the evening before, and that there were nine chances to one that
+his lordship's worst fears were realized, and twenty-two chances to one
+that if the poor little fellow had disappointed him, the Earl was even
+now in a tearing rage, and ready to vent all his rancor on the first
+person who called--which it appeared probable would be his reverend
+self.
+
+Judge then of his amazement when, as Thomas opened the library door, his
+ears were greeted by a delighted ring of childish laughter.
+
+“That's two out!” shouted an excited, clear little voice. “You see it's
+two out!”
+
+And there was the Earl's chair, and the gout-stool, and his foot on
+it; and by him a small table and a game on it; and quite close to him,
+actually leaning against his arm and his ungouty knee, was a little boy
+with face glowing, and eyes dancing with excitement. “It's two out!” the
+little stranger cried. “You hadn't any luck that time, had you?”--And
+then they both recognized at once that some one had come in.
+
+The Earl glanced around, knitting his shaggy eyebrows as he had a
+trick of doing, and when he saw who it was, Mr. Mordaunt was still
+more surprised to see that he looked even less disagreeable than usual
+instead of more so. In fact, he looked almost as if he had forgotten for
+the moment how disagreeable he was, and how unpleasant he really could
+make himself when he tried.
+
+“Ah!” he said, in his harsh voice, but giving his hand rather
+graciously. “Good-morning, Mordaunt. I've found a new employment, you
+see.”
+
+He put his other hand on Cedric's shoulder,--perhaps deep down in his
+heart there was a stir of gratified pride that it was such an heir he
+had to present; there was a spark of something like pleasure in his eyes
+as he moved the boy slightly forward.
+
+“This is the new Lord Fauntleroy,” he said. “Fauntleroy, this is Mr.
+Mordaunt, the rector of the parish.”
+
+Fauntleroy looked up at the gentleman in the clerical garments, and gave
+him his hand.
+
+“I am very glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” he said, remembering
+the words he had heard Mr. Hobbs use on one or two occasions when he had
+been greeting a new customer with ceremony.
+
+Cedric felt quite sure that one ought to be more than usually polite to
+a minister.
+
+Mr. Mordaunt held the small hand in his a moment as he looked down at
+the child's face, smiling involuntarily. He liked the little fellow from
+that instant--as in fact people always did like him. And it was not the
+boy's beauty and grace which most appealed to him; it was the simple,
+natural kindliness in the little lad which made any words he uttered,
+however quaint and unexpected, sound pleasant and sincere. As the rector
+looked at Cedric, he forgot to think of the Earl at all. Nothing in the
+world is so strong as a kind heart, and somehow this kind little
+heart, though it was only the heart of a child, seemed to clear all the
+atmosphere of the big gloomy room and make it brighter.
+
+“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lord Fauntleroy,” said the
+rector. “You made a long journey to come to us. A great many people will
+be glad to know you made it safely.”
+
+“It WAS a long way,” answered Fauntleroy, “but Dearest, my mother, was
+with me and I wasn't lonely. Of course you are never lonely if your
+mother is with you; and the ship was beautiful.”
+
+“Take a chair, Mordaunt,” said the Earl. Mr. Mordaunt sat down. He
+glanced from Fauntleroy to the Earl.
+
+“Your lordship is greatly to be congratulated,” he said warmly.
+
+But the Earl plainly had no intention of showing his feelings on the
+subject.
+
+“He is like his father,” he said rather gruffly. “Let us hope he'll
+conduct himself more creditably.” And then he added: “Well, what is it
+this morning, Mordaunt? Who is in trouble now?”
+
+This was not as bad as Mr. Mordaunt had expected, but he hesitated a
+second before he began.
+
+“It is Higgins,” he said; “Higgins of Edge Farm. He has been very
+unfortunate. He was ill himself last autumn, and his children had
+scarlet fever. I can't say that he is a very good manager, but he has
+had ill-luck, and of course he is behindhand in many ways. He is in
+trouble about his rent now. Newick tells him if he doesn't pay it, he
+must leave the place; and of course that would be a very serious matter.
+His wife is ill, and he came to me yesterday to beg me to see about
+it, and ask you for time. He thinks if you would give him time he could
+catch up again.”
+
+“They all think that,” said the Earl, looking rather black.
+
+Fauntleroy made a movement forward. He had been standing between his
+grandfather and the visitor, listening with all his might. He had begun
+to be interested in Higgins at once. He wondered how many children there
+were, and if the scarlet fever had hurt them very much. His eyes were
+wide open and were fixed upon Mr. Mordaunt with intent interest as that
+gentleman went on with the conversation.
+
+“Higgins is a well-meaning man,” said the rector, making an effort to
+strengthen his plea.
+
+“He is a bad enough tenant,” replied his lordship. “And he is always
+behindhand, Newick tells me.”
+
+“He is in great trouble now,” said the rector.
+
+“He is very fond of his wife and children, and if the farm is taken
+from him they may literally starve. He can not give them the nourishing
+things they need. Two of the children were left very low after the
+fever, and the doctor orders for them wine and luxuries that Higgins can
+not afford.”
+
+At this Fauntleroy moved a step nearer.
+
+“That was the way with Michael,” he said.
+
+The Earl slightly started.
+
+“I forgot YOU!” he said. “I forgot we had a philanthropist in the room.
+Who was Michael?” And the gleam of queer amusement came back into the
+old man's deep-set eyes.
+
+“He was Bridget's husband, who had the fever,” answered Fauntleroy; “and
+he couldn't pay the rent or buy wine and things. And you gave me that
+money to help him.”
+
+The Earl drew his brows together into a curious frown, which somehow was
+scarcely grim at all. He glanced across at Mr. Mordaunt.
+
+“I don't know what sort of landed proprietor he will make,” he said.
+“I told Havisham the boy was to have what he wanted--anything he
+wanted--and what he wanted, it seems, was money to give to beggars.”
+
+“Oh! but they weren't beggars,” said Fauntleroy eagerly. “Michael was a
+splendid bricklayer! They all worked.”
+
+“Oh!” said the Earl, “they were not beggars. They were splendid
+bricklayers, and bootblacks, and apple-women.”
+
+He bent his gaze on the boy for a few seconds in silence. The fact was
+that a new thought was coming to him, and though, perhaps, it was not
+prompted by the noblest emotions, it was not a bad thought. “Come here,”
+ he said, at last.
+
+Fauntleroy went and stood as near to him as possible without encroaching
+on the gouty foot.
+
+“What would YOU do in this case?” his lordship asked.
+
+It must be confessed that Mr. Mordaunt experienced for the moment a
+curious sensation. Being a man of great thoughtfulness, and having spent
+so many years on the estate of Dorincourt, knowing the tenantry, rich
+and poor, the people of the village, honest and industrious, dishonest
+and lazy, he realized very strongly what power for good or evil would be
+given in the future to this one small boy standing there, his brown eyes
+wide open, his hands deep in his pockets; and the thought came to him
+also that a great deal of power might, perhaps, through the caprice of
+a proud, self-indulgent old man, be given to him now, and that if his
+young nature were not a simple and generous one, it might be the worst
+thing that could happen, not only for others, but for himself.
+
+“And what would YOU do in such a case?” demanded the Earl.
+
+Fauntleroy drew a little nearer, and laid one hand on his knee, with the
+most confiding air of good comradeship.
+
+“If I were very rich,” he said, “and not only just a little boy, I
+should let him stay, and give him the things for his children; but
+then, I am only a boy.” Then, after a second's pause, in which his face
+brightened visibly, “YOU can do anything, can't you?” he said.
+
+“Humph!” said my lord, staring at him. “That's your opinion, is it?” And
+he was not displeased either.
+
+“I mean you can give any one anything,” said Fauntleroy. “Who's Newick?”
+
+“He is my agent,” answered the Earl, “and some of my tenants are not
+over-fond of him.”
+
+“Are you going to write him a letter now?” inquired Fauntleroy. “Shall I
+bring you the pen and ink? I can take the game off this table.”
+
+It plainly had not for an instant occurred to him that Newick would be
+allowed to do his worst.
+
+The Earl paused a moment, still looking at him. “Can you write?” he
+asked.
+
+“Yes,” answered Cedric, “but not very well.”
+
+“Move the things from the table,” commanded my lord, “and bring the pen
+and ink, and a sheet of paper from my desk.”
+
+Mr. Mordaunt's interest began to increase. Fauntleroy did as he was told
+very deftly. In a few moments, the sheet of paper, the big inkstand, and
+the pen were ready.
+
+“There!” he said gayly, “now you can write it.”
+
+“You are to write it,” said the Earl.
+
+“I!” exclaimed Fauntleroy, and a flush overspread his forehead. “Will
+it do if I write it? I don't always spell quite right when I haven't a
+dictionary, and nobody tells me.”
+
+“It will do,” answered the Earl. “Higgins will not complain of the
+spelling. I'm not the philanthropist; you are. Dip your pen in the ink.”
+
+Fauntleroy took up the pen and dipped it in the ink-bottle, then he
+arranged himself in position, leaning on the table.
+
+“Now,” he inquired, “what must I say?”
+
+“You may say, 'Higgins is not to be interfered with, for the present,'
+and sign it, 'Fauntleroy,'” said the Earl.
+
+Fauntleroy dipped his pen in the ink again, and resting his arm, began
+to write. It was rather a slow and serious process, but he gave his
+whole soul to it. After a while, however, the manuscript was complete,
+and he handed it to his grandfather with a smile slightly tinged with
+anxiety.
+
+“Do you think it will do?” he asked.
+
+The Earl looked at it, and the corners of his mouth twitched a little.
+
+“Yes,” he answered; “Higgins will find it entirely satisfactory.” And he
+handed it to Mr. Mordaunt.
+
+What Mr. Mordaunt found written was this:
+
+
+“Dear mr. Newik if you pleas mr. higins is not to be intur feared with
+for the present and oblige. Yours rispecferly,
+
+“FAUNTLEROY.”
+
+
+“Mr. Hobbs always signed his letters that way,” said Fauntleroy; “and I
+thought I'd better say 'please.' Is that exactly the right way to spell
+'interfered'?”
+
+“It's not exactly the way it is spelled in the dictionary,” answered the
+Earl.
+
+“I was afraid of that,” said Fauntleroy. “I ought to have asked. You
+see, that's the way with words of more than one syllable; you have to
+look in the dictionary. It's always safest. I'll write it over again.”
+
+And write it over again he did, making quite an imposing copy, and
+taking precautions in the matter of spelling by consulting the Earl
+himself.
+
+“Spelling is a curious thing,” he said. “It's so often different
+from what you expect it to be. I used to think 'please' was spelled
+p-l-e-e-s, but it isn't, you know; and you'd think 'dear' was spelled
+d-e-r-e, if you didn't inquire. Sometimes it almost discourages you.”
+
+When Mr. Mordaunt went away, he took the letter with him, and he took
+something else with him also--namely, a pleasanter feeling and a more
+hopeful one than he had ever carried home with him down that avenue on
+any previous visit he had made at Dorincourt Castle.
+
+When he was gone, Fauntleroy, who had accompanied him to the door, went
+back to his grandfather.
+
+“May I go to Dearest now?” he asked. “I think she will be waiting for
+me.”
+
+The Earl was silent a moment.
+
+“There is something in the stable for you to see first,” he said. “Ring
+the bell.”
+
+“If you please,” said Fauntleroy, with his quick little flush. “I'm very
+much obliged; but I think I'd better see it to-morrow. She will be
+expecting me all the time.”
+
+“Very well,” answered the Earl. “We will order the carriage.” Then he
+added dryly, “It's a pony.”
+
+Fauntleroy drew a long breath.
+
+“A pony!” he exclaimed. “Whose pony is it?”
+
+“Yours,” replied the Earl.
+
+“Mine?” cried the little fellow. “Mine--like the things upstairs?”
+
+“Yes,” said his grandfather. “Would you like to see it? Shall I order it
+to be brought around?”
+
+Fauntleroy's cheeks grew redder and redder.
+
+“I never thought I should have a pony!” he said. “I never thought that!
+How glad Dearest will be. You give me EVERYthing, don't you?”
+
+“Do you wish to see it?” inquired the Earl.
+
+Fauntleroy drew a long breath. “I WANT to see it,” he said. “I want to
+see it so much I can hardly wait. But I'm afraid there isn't time.”
+
+“You MUST go and see your mother this afternoon?” asked the Earl. “You
+think you can't put it off?”
+
+“Why,” said Fauntleroy, “she has been thinking about me all the morning,
+and I have been thinking about her!”
+
+“Oh!” said the Earl. “You have, have you? Ring the bell.”
+
+As they drove down the avenue, under the arching trees, he was rather
+silent. But Fauntleroy was not. He talked about the pony. What color was
+it? How big was it? What was its name? What did it like to eat best? How
+old was it? How early in the morning might he get up and see it?
+
+“Dearest will be so glad!” he kept saying. “She will be so much obliged
+to you for being so kind to me! She knows I always liked ponies so much,
+but we never thought I should have one. There was a little boy on Fifth
+Avenue who had one, and he used to ride out every morning and we used to
+take a walk past his house to see him.”
+
+He leaned back against the cushions and regarded the Earl with rapt
+interest for a few minutes and in entire silence.
+
+“I think you must be the best person in the world,” he burst forth at
+last. “You are always doing good, aren't you?--and thinking about other
+people. Dearest says that is the best kind of goodness; not to think
+about yourself, but to think about other people. That is just the way
+you are, isn't it?”
+
+His lordship was so dumfounded to find himself presented in such
+agreeable colors, that he did not know exactly what to say. He felt that
+he needed time for reflection. To see each of his ugly, selfish motives
+changed into a good and generous one by the simplicity of a child was a
+singular experience.
+
+Fauntleroy went on, still regarding him with admiring eyes--those great,
+clear, innocent eyes!
+
+“You make so many people happy,” he said. “There's Michael and Bridget
+and their ten children, and the apple-woman, and Dick, and Mr.
+Hobbs, and Mr. Higgins and Mrs. Higgins and their children, and Mr.
+Mordaunt,--because of course he was glad,--and Dearest and me, about
+the pony and all the other things. Do you know, I've counted it up on
+my fingers and in my mind, and it's twenty-seven people you've been kind
+to. That's a good many--twenty-seven!”
+
+“And I was the person who was kind to them--was I?” said the Earl.
+
+“Why, yes, you know,” answered Fauntleroy. “You made them all happy.
+Do you know,” with some delicate hesitation, “that people are sometimes
+mistaken about earls when they don't know them. Mr. Hobbs was. I am
+going to write him, and tell him about it.”
+
+“What was Mr. Hobbs's opinion of earls?” asked his lordship.
+
+“Well, you see, the difficulty was,” replied his young companion,
+“that he didn't know any, and he'd only read about them in books. He
+thought--you mustn't mind it--that they were gory tyrants; and he said
+he wouldn't have them hanging around his store. But if he'd known YOU,
+I'm sure he would have felt quite different. I shall tell him about
+you.”
+
+“What shall you tell him?”
+
+“I shall tell him,” said Fauntleroy, glowing with enthusiasm, “that
+you are the kindest man I ever heard of. And you are always thinking of
+other people, and making them happy and--and I hope when I grow up, I
+shall be just like you.”
+
+“Just like me!” repeated his lordship, looking at the little kindling
+face. And a dull red crept up under his withered skin, and he suddenly
+turned his eyes away and looked out of the carriage window at the great
+beech-trees, with the sun shining on their glossy, red-brown leaves.
+
+“JUST like you,” said Fauntleroy, adding modestly, “if I can. Perhaps
+I'm not good enough, but I'm going to try.”
+
+The carriage rolled on down the stately avenue under the beautiful,
+broad-branched trees, through the spaces of green shade and lanes of
+golden sunlight. Fauntleroy saw again the lovely places where the ferns
+grew high and the bluebells swayed in the breeze; he saw the deer,
+standing or lying in the deep grass, turn their large, startled eyes as
+the carriage passed, and caught glimpses of the brown rabbits as they
+scurried away. He heard the whir of the partridges and the calls and
+songs of the birds, and it all seemed even more beautiful to him than
+before. All his heart was filled with pleasure and happiness in the
+beauty that was on every side. But the old Earl saw and heard very
+different things, though he was apparently looking out too. He saw
+a long life, in which there had been neither generous deeds nor kind
+thoughts; he saw years in which a man who had been young and strong and
+rich and powerful had used his youth and strength and wealth and power
+only to please himself and kill time as the days and years succeeded
+each other; he saw this man, when the time had been killed and old age
+had come, solitary and without real friends in the midst of all his
+splendid wealth; he saw people who disliked or feared him, and people
+who would flatter and cringe to him, but no one who really cared whether
+he lived or died, unless they had something to gain or lose by it. He
+looked out on the broad acres which belonged to him, and he knew what
+Fauntleroy did not--how far they extended, what wealth they represented,
+and how many people had homes on their soil. And he knew, too,--another
+thing Fauntleroy did not,--that in all those homes, humble or
+well-to-do, there was probably not one person, however much he envied
+the wealth and stately name and power, and however willing he would have
+been to possess them, who would for an instant have thought of calling
+the noble owner “good,” or wishing, as this simple-souled little boy
+had, to be like him.
+
+And it was not exactly pleasant to reflect upon, even for a cynical,
+worldly old man, who had been sufficient unto himself for seventy years
+and who had never deigned to care what opinion the world held of him so
+long as it did not interfere with his comfort or entertainment. And the
+fact was, indeed, that he had never before condescended to reflect
+upon it at all; and he only did so now because a child had believed
+him better than he was, and by wishing to follow in his illustrious
+footsteps and imitate his example, had suggested to him the curious
+question whether he was exactly the person to take as a model.
+
+Fauntleroy thought the Earl's foot must be hurting him, his brows
+knitted themselves together so, as he looked out at the park; and
+thinking this, the considerate little fellow tried not to disturb him,
+and enjoyed the trees and the ferns and the deer in silence.
+
+But at last the carriage, having passed the gates and bowled through the
+green lanes for a short distance, stopped. They had reached Court Lodge;
+and Fauntleroy was out upon the ground almost before the big footman had
+time to open the carriage door.
+
+The Earl wakened from his reverie with a start.
+
+“What!” he said. “Are we here?”
+
+“Yes,” said Fauntleroy. “Let me give you your stick. Just lean on me
+when you get out.”
+
+“I am not going to get out,” replied his lordship brusquely.
+
+“Not--not to see Dearest?” exclaimed Fauntleroy with astonished face.
+
+“'Dearest' will excuse me,” said the Earl dryly. “Go to her and tell her
+that not even a new pony would keep you away.”
+
+“She will be disappointed,” said Fauntleroy. “She will want to see you
+very much.”
+
+“I am afraid not,” was the answer. “The carriage will call for you as we
+come back.--Tell Jeffries to drive on, Thomas.”
+
+Thomas closed the carriage door; and, after a puzzled look, Fauntleroy
+ran up the drive. The Earl had the opportunity--as Mr. Havisham once
+had--of seeing a pair of handsome, strong little legs flash over the
+ground with astonishing rapidity. Evidently their owner had no intention
+of losing any time. The carriage rolled slowly away, but his lordship
+did not at once lean back; he still looked out. Through a space in the
+trees he could see the house door; it was wide open. The little figure
+dashed up the steps; another figure--a little figure, too, slender and
+young, in its black gown--ran to meet it. It seemed as if they flew
+together, as Fauntleroy leaped into his mother's arms, hanging about her
+neck and covering her sweet young face with kisses.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+On the following Sunday morning, Mr. Mordaunt had a large congregation.
+Indeed, he could scarcely remember any Sunday on which the church had
+been so crowded. People appeared upon the scene who seldom did him the
+honor of coming to hear his sermons.
+
+There were even people from Hazelton, which was the next parish. There
+were hearty, sunburned farmers, stout, comfortable, apple-cheeked
+wives in their best bonnets and most gorgeous shawls, and half a dozen
+children or so to each family. The doctor's wife was there, with her
+four daughters. Mrs. Kimsey and Mr. Kimsey, who kept the druggist's
+shop, and made pills, and did up powders for everybody within ten
+miles, sat in their pew; Mrs. Dibble in hers; Miss Smiff, the village
+dressmaker, and her friend Miss Perkins, the milliner, sat in theirs;
+the doctor's young man was present, and the druggist's apprentice; in
+fact, almost every family on the county side was represented, in one way
+or another.
+
+In the course of the preceding week, many wonderful stories had been
+told of little Lord Fauntleroy. Mrs. Dibble had been kept so busy
+attending to customers who came in to buy a pennyworth of needles or
+a ha'porth of tape and to hear what she had to relate, that the little
+shop bell over the door had nearly tinkled itself to death over the
+coming and going. Mrs. Dibble knew exactly how his small lordship's
+rooms had been furnished for him, what expensive toys had been bought,
+how there was a beautiful brown pony awaiting him, and a small groom to
+attend it, and a little dog-cart, with silver-mounted harness. And she
+could tell, too, what all the servants had said when they had caught
+glimpses of the child on the night of his arrival; and how every female
+below stairs had said it was a shame, so it was, to part the poor pretty
+dear from his mother; and had all declared their hearts came into their
+mouths when he went alone into the library to see his grandfather, for
+“there was no knowing how he'd be treated, and his lordship's temper was
+enough to fluster them with old heads on their shoulders, let alone a
+child.”
+
+“But if you'll believe me, Mrs. Jennifer, mum,” Mrs. Dibble had said,
+“fear that child does not know--so Mr. Thomas hisself says; an' set an'
+smile he did, an' talked to his lordship as if they'd been friends ever
+since his first hour. An' the Earl so took aback, Mr. Thomas says, that
+he couldn't do nothing but listen and stare from under his eyebrows. An'
+it's Mr. Thomas's opinion, Mrs. Bates, mum, that bad as he is, he was
+pleased in his secret soul, an' proud, too; for a handsomer little
+fellow, or with better manners, though so old-fashioned, Mr. Thomas says
+he'd never wish to see.”
+
+And then there had come the story of Higgins. The Reverend Mr. Mordaunt
+had told it at his own dinner table, and the servants who had heard it
+had told it in the kitchen, and from there it had spread like wildfire.
+
+And on market-day, when Higgins had appeared in town, he had been
+questioned on every side, and Newick had been questioned too, and in
+response had shown to two or three people the note signed “Fauntleroy.”
+
+And so the farmers' wives had found plenty to talk of over their tea and
+their shopping, and they had done the subject full justice and made the
+most of it. And on Sunday they had either walked to church or had
+been driven in their gigs by their husbands, who were perhaps a trifle
+curious themselves about the new little lord who was to be in time the
+owner of the soil.
+
+It was by no means the Earl's habit to attend church, but he chose to
+appear on this first Sunday--it was his whim to present himself in the
+huge family pew, with Fauntleroy at his side.
+
+There were many loiterers in the churchyard, and many lingerers in the
+lane that morning. There were groups at the gates and in the porch, and
+there had been much discussion as to whether my lord would really appear
+or not. When this discussion was at its height, one good woman suddenly
+uttered an exclamation.
+
+“Eh,” she said, “that must be the mother, pretty young thing.” All who
+heard turned and looked at the slender figure in black coming up the
+path. The veil was thrown back from her face and they could see how fair
+and sweet it was, and how the bright hair curled as softly as a child's
+under the little widow's cap.
+
+She was not thinking of the people about; she was thinking of Cedric,
+and of his visits to her, and his joy over his new pony, on which he had
+actually ridden to her door the day before, sitting very straight
+and looking very proud and happy. But soon she could not help being
+attracted by the fact that she was being looked at and that her arrival
+had created some sort of sensation. She first noticed it because an old
+woman in a red cloak made a bobbing courtesy to her, and then another
+did the same thing and said, “God bless you, my lady!” and one man
+after another took off his hat as she passed. For a moment she did not
+understand, and then she realized that it was because she was little
+Lord Fauntleroy's mother that they did so, and she flushed rather shyly
+and smiled and bowed too, and said, “Thank you,” in a gentle voice to
+the old woman who had blessed her. To a person who had always lived in
+a bustling, crowded American city this simple deference was very novel,
+and at first just a little embarrassing; but after all, she could not
+help liking and being touched by the friendly warm-heartedness of which
+it seemed to speak. She had scarcely passed through the stone porch into
+the church before the great event of the day happened. The carriage from
+the Castle, with its handsome horses and tall liveried servants, bowled
+around the corner and down the green lane.
+
+“Here they come!” went from one looker-on to another.
+
+And then the carriage drew up, and Thomas stepped down and opened the
+door, and a little boy, dressed in black velvet, and with a splendid mop
+of bright waving hair, jumped out.
+
+Every man, woman, and child looked curiously upon him.
+
+“He's the Captain over again!” said those of the on-lookers who
+remembered his father. “He's the Captain's self, to the life!”
+
+He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the Earl, as Thomas helped
+that nobleman out, with the most affectionate interest that could be
+imagined. The instant he could help, he put out his hand and offered his
+shoulder as if he had been seven feet high. It was plain enough to every
+one that however it might be with other people, the Earl of Dorincourt
+struck no terror into the breast of his grandson.
+
+“Just lean on me,” they heard him say. “How glad the people are to see
+you, and how well they all seem to know you!”
+
+“Take off your cap, Fauntleroy,” said the Earl. “They are bowing to
+you.”
+
+“To me!” cried Fauntleroy, whipping off his cap in a moment, baring his
+bright head to the crowd and turning shining, puzzled eyes on them as he
+tried to bow to every one at once.
+
+“God bless your lordship!” said the courtesying, red-cloaked old woman
+who had spoken to his mother; “long life to you!”
+
+“Thank you, ma'am,” said Fauntleroy. And then they went into the church,
+and were looked at there, on their way up the aisle to the square,
+red-cushioned and curtained pew. When Fauntleroy was fairly seated,
+he made two discoveries which pleased him: the first that, across the
+church where he could look at her, his mother sat and smiled at him; the
+second, that at one end of the pew, against the wall, knelt two quaint
+figures carven in stone, facing each other as they kneeled on either
+side of a pillar supporting two stone missals, their pointed hands
+folded as if in prayer, their dress very antique and strange. On the
+tablet by them was written something of which he could only read the
+curious words:
+
+“Here lyeth ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure Fyrst Earle of Dorincourt
+Allsoe of Alisone Hildegarde hys wyfe.”
+
+“May I whisper?” inquired his lordship, devoured by curiosity.
+
+“What is it?” said his grandfather.
+
+“Who are they?”
+
+“Some of your ancestors,” answered the Earl, “who lived a few hundred
+years ago.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Lord Fauntleroy, regarding them with respect, “perhaps
+I got my spelling from them.” And then he proceeded to find his place in
+the church service. When the music began, he stood up and looked across
+at his mother, smiling. He was very fond of music, and his mother and
+he often sang together, so he joined in with the rest, his pure, sweet,
+high voice rising as clear as the song of a bird. He quite forgot
+himself in his pleasure in it. The Earl forgot himself a little too, as
+he sat in his curtain-shielded corner of the pew and watched the boy.
+Cedric stood with the big psalter open in his hands, singing with all
+his childish might, his face a little uplifted, happily; and as he sang,
+a long ray of sunshine crept in and, slanting through a golden pane of a
+stained glass window, brightened the falling hair about his young head.
+His mother, as she looked at him across the church, felt a thrill pass
+through her heart, and a prayer rose in it too,--a prayer that the pure,
+simple happiness of his childish soul might last, and that the strange,
+great fortune which had fallen to him might bring no wrong or evil with
+it. There were many soft, anxious thoughts in her tender heart in those
+new days.
+
+“Oh, Ceddie!” she had said to him the evening before, as she hung over
+him in saying good-night, before he went away; “oh, Ceddie, dear, I wish
+for your sake I was very clever and could say a great many wise things!
+But only be good, dear, only be brave, only be kind and true always, and
+then you will never hurt any one, so long as you live, and you may help
+many, and the big world may be better because my little child was born.
+And that is best of all, Ceddie,--it is better than everything else,
+that the world should be a little better because a man has lived--even
+ever so little better, dearest.”
+
+And on his return to the Castle, Fauntleroy had repeated her words to
+his grandfather.
+
+“And I thought about you when she said that,” he ended; “and I told her
+that was the way the world was because you had lived, and I was going to
+try if I could be like you.”
+
+“And what did she say to that?” asked his lordship, a trifle uneasily.
+
+“She said that was right, and we must always look for good in people and
+try to be like it.”
+
+Perhaps it was this the old man remembered as he glanced through the
+divided folds of the red curtain of his pew. Many times he looked over
+the people's heads to where his son's wife sat alone, and he saw the
+fair face the unforgiven dead had loved, and the eyes which were so like
+those of the child at his side; but what his thoughts were, and whether
+they were hard and bitter, or softened a little, it would have been hard
+to discover.
+
+As they came out of church, many of those who had attended the service
+stood waiting to see them pass. As they neared the gate, a man who stood
+with his hat in his hand made a step forward and then hesitated. He was
+a middle-aged farmer, with a careworn face.
+
+“Well, Higgins,” said the Earl.
+
+Fauntleroy turned quickly to look at him.
+
+“Oh!” he exclaimed, “is it Mr. Higgins?”
+
+“Yes,” answered the Earl dryly; “and I suppose he came to take a look at
+his new landlord.”
+
+“Yes, my lord,” said the man, his sunburned face reddening. “Mr. Newick
+told me his young lordship was kind enough to speak for me, and I
+thought I'd like to say a word of thanks, if I might be allowed.”
+
+Perhaps he felt some wonder when he saw what a little fellow it was who
+had innocently done so much for him, and who stood there looking up just
+as one of his own less fortunate children might have done--apparently
+not realizing his own importance in the least.
+
+“I've a great deal to thank your lordship for,” he said; “a great deal.
+I----”
+
+“Oh,” said Fauntleroy; “I only wrote the letter. It was my grandfather
+who did it. But you know how he is about always being good to everybody.
+Is Mrs. Higgins well now?”
+
+Higgins looked a trifle taken aback. He also was somewhat startled at
+hearing his noble landlord presented in the character of a benevolent
+being, full of engaging qualities.
+
+“I--well, yes, your lordship,” he stammered, “the missus is better since
+the trouble was took off her mind. It was worrying broke her down.”
+
+“I'm glad of that,” said Fauntleroy. “My grandfather was very sorry
+about your children having the scarlet fever, and so was I. He has had
+children himself. I'm his son's little boy, you know.”
+
+Higgins was on the verge of being panic-stricken. He felt it would be
+the safer and more discreet plan not to look at the Earl, as it had been
+well known that his fatherly affection for his sons had been such that
+he had seen them about twice a year, and that when they had been ill,
+he had promptly departed for London, because he would not be bored with
+doctors and nurses. It was a little trying, therefore, to his lordship's
+nerves to be told, while he looked on, his eyes gleaming from under his
+shaggy eyebrows, that he felt an interest in scarlet fever.
+
+“You see, Higgins,” broke in the Earl with a fine grim smile, “you
+people have been mistaken in me. Lord Fauntleroy understands me. When
+you want reliable information on the subject of my character, apply to
+him. Get into the carriage, Fauntleroy.”
+
+And Fauntleroy jumped in, and the carriage rolled away down the green
+lane, and even when it turned the corner into the high road, the Earl
+was still grimly smiling.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+Lord Dorincourt had occasion to wear his grim smile many a time as
+the days passed by. Indeed, as his acquaintance with his grandson
+progressed, he wore the smile so often that there were moments when
+it almost lost its grimness. There is no denying that before Lord
+Fauntleroy had appeared on the scene, the old man had been growing very
+tired of his loneliness and his gout and his seventy years. After so
+long a life of excitement and amusement, it was not agreeable to sit
+alone even in the most splendid room, with one foot on a gout-stool,
+and with no other diversion than flying into a rage, and shouting at
+a frightened footman who hated the sight of him. The old Earl was too
+clever a man not to know perfectly well that his servants detested
+him, and that even if he had visitors, they did not come for love of
+him--though some found a sort of amusement in his sharp, sarcastic talk,
+which spared no one. So long as he had been strong and well, he had gone
+from one place to another, pretending to amuse himself, though he had
+not really enjoyed it; and when his health began to fail, he felt tired
+of everything and shut himself up at Dorincourt, with his gout and his
+newspapers and his books. But he could not read all the time, and he
+became more and more “bored,” as he called it. He hated the long nights
+and days, and he grew more and more savage and irritable. And then
+Fauntleroy came; and when the Earl saw him, fortunately for the little
+fellow, the secret pride of the grandfather was gratified at the outset.
+If Cedric had been a less handsome little fellow, the old man might have
+taken so strong a dislike to him that he would not have given himself
+the chance to see his grandson's finer qualities. But he chose to
+think that Cedric's beauty and fearless spirit were the results of the
+Dorincourt blood and a credit to the Dorincourt rank. And then when
+he heard the lad talk, and saw what a well-bred little fellow he was,
+notwithstanding his boyish ignorance of all that his new position meant,
+the old Earl liked his grandson more, and actually began to find himself
+rather entertained. It had amused him to give into those childish hands
+the power to bestow a benefit on poor Higgins. My lord cared nothing
+for poor Higgins, but it pleased him a little to think that his grandson
+would be talked about by the country people and would begin to be
+popular with the tenantry, even in his childhood. Then it had gratified
+him to drive to church with Cedric and to see the excitement and
+interest caused by the arrival. He knew how the people would speak of
+the beauty of the little lad; of his fine, strong, straight body; of
+his erect bearing, his handsome face, and his bright hair, and how they
+would say (as the Earl had heard one woman exclaim to another) that the
+boy was “every inch a lord.” My lord of Dorincourt was an arrogant old
+man, proud of his name, proud of his rank, and therefore proud to show
+the world that at last the House of Dorincourt had an heir who was
+worthy of the position he was to fill.
+
+The morning the new pony had been tried, the Earl had been so pleased
+that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom had brought out
+the pretty creature, which arched its brown, glossy neck and tossed its
+fine head in the sun, the Earl had sat at the open window of the library
+and had looked on while Fauntleroy took his first riding lesson. He
+wondered if the boy would show signs of timidity. It was not a very
+small pony, and he had often seen children lose courage in making their
+first essay at riding.
+
+Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony before,
+and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom, led the animal by
+the bridle up and down before the library window.
+
+“He's a well plucked un, he is,” Wilkins remarked in the stable
+afterward with many grins. “It weren't no trouble to put HIM up. An' a
+old un wouldn't ha' sat any straighter when he WERE up. He ses--ses
+he to me, 'Wilkins,' he ses, 'am I sitting up straight? They sit up
+straight at the circus,' ses he. An' I ses, 'As straight as a arrer,
+your lordship!'--an' he laughs, as pleased as could be, an' he ses,
+'That's right,' he ses, 'you tell me if I don't sit up straight,
+Wilkins!'”
+
+But sitting up straight and being led at a walk were not altogether and
+completely satisfactory. After a few minutes, Fauntleroy spoke to his
+grandfather--watching him from the window:
+
+“Can't I go by myself?” he asked; “and can't I go faster? The boy on
+Fifth Avenue used to trot and canter!”
+
+“Do you think you could trot and canter?” said the Earl.
+
+“I should like to try,” answered Fauntleroy.
+
+His lordship made a sign to Wilkins, who at the signal brought up his
+own horse and mounted it and took Fauntleroy's pony by the leading-rein.
+
+“Now,” said the Earl, “let him trot.”
+
+The next few minutes were rather exciting to the small equestrian. He
+found that trotting was not so easy as walking, and the faster the pony
+trotted, the less easy it was.
+
+“It j-jolts a g-goo-good deal--do-doesn't it?” he said to Wilkins.
+“D-does it j-jolt y-you?”
+
+“No, my lord,” answered Wilkins. “You'll get used to it in time. Rise in
+your stirrups.”
+
+“I'm ri-rising all the t-time,” said Fauntleroy.
+
+He was both rising and falling rather uncomfortably and with many shakes
+and bounces. He was out of breath and his face grew red, but he held on
+with all his might, and sat as straight as he could. The Earl could
+see that from his window. When the riders came back within speaking
+distance, after they had been hidden by the trees a few minutes,
+Fauntleroy's hat was off, his cheeks were like poppies, and his lips
+were set, but he was still trotting manfully.
+
+“Stop a minute!” said his grandfather. “Where's your hat?”
+
+Wilkins touched his. “It fell off, your lordship,” he said, with evident
+enjoyment. “Wouldn't let me stop to pick it up, my lord.”
+
+“Not much afraid, is he?” asked the Earl dryly.
+
+“Him, your lordship!” exclaimed Wilkins. “I shouldn't say as he knowed
+what it meant. I've taught young gen'lemen to ride afore, an' I never
+see one stick on more determinder.”
+
+“Tired?” said the Earl to Fauntleroy. “Want to get off?”
+
+“It jolts you more than you think it will,” admitted his young lordship
+frankly. “And it tires you a little, too; but I don't want to get off.
+I want to learn how. As soon as I've got my breath I want to go back for
+the hat.”
+
+The cleverest person in the world, if he had undertaken to teach
+Fauntleroy how to please the old man who watched him, could not have
+taught him anything which would have succeeded better. As the pony
+trotted off again toward the avenue, a faint color crept up in the
+fierce old face, and the eyes, under the shaggy brows, gleamed with a
+pleasure such as his lordship had scarcely expected to know again. And
+he sat and watched quite eagerly until the sound of the horses' hoofs
+returned. When they did come, which was after some time, they came at a
+faster pace. Fauntleroy's hat was still off; Wilkins was carrying it for
+him; his cheeks were redder than before, and his hair was flying about
+his ears, but he came at quite a brisk canter.
+
+“There!” he panted, as they drew up, “I c-cantered. I didn't do it as
+well as the boy on Fifth Avenue, but I did it, and I staid on!”
+
+He and Wilkins and the pony were close friends after that. Scarcely a
+day passed in which the country people did not see them out together,
+cantering gayly on the highroad or through the green lanes. The children
+in the cottages would run to the door to look at the proud little brown
+pony with the gallant little figure sitting so straight in the saddle,
+and the young lord would snatch off his cap and swing it at them, and
+shout, “Hullo! Good-morning!” in a very unlordly manner, though with
+great heartiness. Sometimes he would stop and talk with the children,
+and once Wilkins came back to the castle with a story of how Fauntleroy
+had insisted on dismounting near the village school, so that a boy who
+was lame and tired might ride home on his pony.
+
+“An' I'm blessed,” said Wilkins, in telling the story at the
+stables,--“I'm blessed if he'd hear of anything else! He wouldn't let
+me get down, because he said the boy mightn't feel comfortable on a big
+horse. An' ses he, 'Wilkins,' ses he, 'that boy's lame and I'm not,
+and I want to talk to him, too.' And up the lad has to get, and my lord
+trudges alongside of him with his hands in his pockets, and his cap on
+the back of his head, a-whistling and talking as easy as you please!
+And when we come to the cottage, an' the boy's mother come out all in a
+taking to see what's up, he whips off his cap an' ses he, 'I've brought
+your son home, ma'am,' ses he, 'because his leg hurt him, and I don't
+think that stick is enough for him to lean on; and I'm going to ask my
+grandfather to have a pair of crutches made for him.' An' I'm blessed if
+the woman wasn't struck all of a heap, as well she might be! I thought I
+should 'a' hex-plodid, myself!”
+
+When the Earl heard the story he was not angry, as Wilkins had been
+half afraid that he would be; on the contrary, he laughed outright, and
+called Fauntleroy up to him, and made him tell all about the matter from
+beginning to end, and then he laughed again. And actually, a few days
+later, the Dorincourt carriage stopped in the green lane before the
+cottage where the lame boy lived, and Fauntleroy jumped out and
+walked up to the door, carrying a pair of strong, light, new crutches
+shouldered like a gun, and presented them to Mrs. Hartle (the lame boy's
+name was Hartle) with these words: “My grandfather's compliments, and if
+you please, these are for your boy, and we hope he will get better.”
+
+“I said your compliments,” he explained to the Earl when he returned to
+the carriage. “You didn't tell me to, but I thought perhaps you forgot.
+That was right, wasn't it?”
+
+And the Earl laughed again, and did not say it was not. In fact, the two
+were becoming more intimate every day, and every day Fauntleroy's faith
+in his lordship's benevolence and virtue increased. He had no doubt
+whatever that his grandfather was the most amiable and generous of
+elderly gentlemen. Certainly, he himself found his wishes gratified
+almost before they were uttered; and such gifts and pleasures were
+lavished upon him, that he was sometimes almost bewildered by his own
+possessions. Apparently, he was to have everything he wanted, and to
+do everything he wished to do. And though this would certainly not have
+been a very wise plan to pursue with all small boys, his young lordship
+bore it amazingly well. Perhaps, notwithstanding his sweet nature, he
+might have been somewhat spoiled by it, if it had not been for the
+hours he spent with his mother at Court Lodge. That “best friend” of his
+watched over him ever closely and tenderly. The two had many long talks
+together, and he never went back to the Castle with her kisses on his
+cheeks without carrying in his heart some simple, pure words worth
+remembering.
+
+There was one thing, it is true, which puzzled the little fellow very
+much. He thought over the mystery of it much oftener than any one
+supposed; even his mother did not know how often he pondered on it; the
+Earl for a long time never suspected that he did so at all. But, being
+quick to observe, the little boy could not help wondering why it was
+that his mother and grandfather never seemed to meet. He had noticed
+that they never did meet. When the Dorincourt carriage stopped at
+Court Lodge, the Earl never alighted, and on the rare occasions of his
+lordship's going to church, Fauntleroy was always left to speak to his
+mother in the porch alone, or perhaps to go home with her. And
+yet, every day, fruit and flowers were sent to Court Lodge from the
+hot-houses at the Castle. But the one virtuous action of the Earl's
+which had set him upon the pinnacle of perfection in Cedric's eyes, was
+what he had done soon after that first Sunday when Mrs. Errol had walked
+home from church unattended. About a week later, when Cedric was going
+one day to visit his mother, he found at the door, instead of the large
+carriage and prancing pair, a pretty little brougham and a handsome bay
+horse.
+
+“That is a present from you to your mother,” the Earl said abruptly.
+“She can not go walking about the country. She needs a carriage. The man
+who drives will take charge of it. It is a present from YOU.”
+
+Fauntleroy's delight could but feebly express itself. He could scarcely
+contain himself until he reached the lodge. His mother was gathering
+roses in the garden. He flung himself out of the little brougham and
+flew to her.
+
+“Dearest!” he cried, “could you believe it? This is yours! He says it is
+a present from me. It is your own carriage to drive everywhere in!”
+
+He was so happy that she did not know what to say. She could not have
+borne to spoil his pleasure by refusing to accept the gift even though
+it came from the man who chose to consider himself her enemy. She was
+obliged to step into the carriage, roses and all, and let herself be
+taken to drive, while Fauntleroy told her stories of his grandfather's
+goodness and amiability. They were such innocent stories that sometimes
+she could not help laughing a little, and then she would draw her little
+boy closer to her side and kiss him, feeling glad that he could see only
+good in the old man, who had so few friends.
+
+The very next day after that, Fauntleroy wrote to Mr. Hobbs. He wrote
+quite a long letter, and after the first copy was written, he brought it
+to his grandfather to be inspected.
+
+“Because,” he said, “it's so uncertain about the spelling. And if you'll
+tell me the mistakes, I'll write it out again.”
+
+This was what he had written:
+
+
+“My dear mr hobbs i want to tell you about my granfarther he is the best
+earl you ever new it is a mistake about earls being tirents he is not a
+tirent at all i wish you new him you would be good friends i am sure
+you would he has the gout in his foot and is a grate sufrer but he is
+so pashent i love him more every day becaus no one could help loving an
+earl like that who is kind to every one in this world i wish you
+could talk to him he knows everything in the world you can ask him any
+question but he has never plaid base ball he has given me a pony and a
+cart and my mamma a bewtifle cariage and I have three rooms and toys of
+all kinds it would serprise you you would like the castle and the park
+it is such a large castle you could lose yourself wilkins tells me
+wilkins is my groom he says there is a dungon under the castle it is
+so pretty everything in the park would serprise you there are such big
+trees and there are deers and rabbits and games flying about in the
+cover my granfarther is very rich but he is not proud and orty as you
+thought earls always were i like to be with him the people are so polite
+and kind they take of their hats to you and the women make curtsies and
+sometimes say god bless you i can ride now but at first it shook me when
+i troted my granfarther let a poor man stay on his farm when he could
+not pay his rent and mrs mellon went to take wine and things to his sick
+children i should like to see you and i wish dearest could live at the
+castle but i am very happy when i dont miss her too much and i love my
+granfarther every one does plees write soon
+
+“your afechshnet old frend
+
+“Cedric Errol
+
+“p s no one is in the dungon my granfarfher never had any one langwishin
+in there.
+
+“p s he is such a good earl he reminds me of you he is a unerversle
+favrit”
+
+
+“Do you miss your mother very much?” asked the Earl when he had finished
+reading this.
+
+“Yes,” said Fauntleroy, “I miss her all the time.”
+
+He went and stood before the Earl and put his hand on his knee, looking
+up at him.
+
+“YOU don't miss her, do you?” he said.
+
+“I don't know her,” answered his lordship rather crustily.
+
+“I know that,” said Fauntleroy, “and that's what makes me wonder. She
+told me not to ask you any questions, and--and I won't, but sometimes I
+can't help thinking, you know, and it makes me all puzzled. But I'm not
+going to ask any questions. And when I miss her very much, I go and
+look out of my window to where I see her light shine for me every night
+through an open place in the trees. It is a long way off, but she puts
+it in her window as soon as it is dark, and I can see it twinkle far
+away, and I know what it says.”
+
+“What does it say?” asked my lord.
+
+“It says, 'Good-night, God keep you all the night!'--just what she used
+to say when we were together. Every night she used to say that to me,
+and every morning she said, 'God bless you all the day!' So you see I am
+quite safe all the time----”
+
+“Quite, I have no doubt,” said his lordship dryly. And he drew down his
+beetling eyebrows and looked at the little boy so fixedly and so long
+that Fauntleroy wondered what he could be thinking of.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+The fact was, his lordship the Earl of Dorincourt thought in those
+days, of many things of which he had never thought before, and all his
+thoughts were in one way or another connected with his grandson. His
+pride was the strongest part of his nature, and the boy gratified it at
+every point. Through this pride he began to find a new interest in life.
+He began to take pleasure in showing his heir to the world. The world
+had known of his disappointment in his sons; so there was an agreeable
+touch of triumph in exhibiting this new Lord Fauntleroy, who could
+disappoint no one. He wished the child to appreciate his own power and
+to understand the splendor of his position; he wished that others should
+realize it too. He made plans for his future.
+
+Sometimes in secret he actually found himself wishing that his own past
+life had been a better one, and that there had been less in it that this
+pure, childish heart would shrink from if it knew the truth. It was not
+agreeable to think how the beautiful, innocent face would look if its
+owner should be made by any chance to understand that his grandfather
+had been called for many a year “the wicked Earl of Dorincourt.” The
+thought even made him feel a trifle nervous. He did not wish the boy
+to find it out. Sometimes in this new interest he forgot his gout,
+and after a while his doctor was surprised to find his noble patient's
+health growing better than he had expected it ever would be again.
+Perhaps the Earl grew better because the time did not pass so slowly for
+him, and he had something to think of beside his pains and infirmities.
+
+One fine morning, people were amazed to see little Lord Fauntleroy
+riding his pony with another companion than Wilkins. This new companion
+rode a tall, powerful gray horse, and was no other than the Earl
+himself. It was, in fact, Fauntleroy who had suggested this plan. As he
+had been on the point of mounting his pony, he had said rather wistfully
+to his grandfather:
+
+“I wish you were going with me. When I go away I feel lonely because
+you are left all by yourself in such a big castle. I wish you could ride
+too.”
+
+And the greatest excitement had been aroused in the stables a few
+minutes later by the arrival of an order that Selim was to be saddled
+for the Earl. After that, Selim was saddled almost every day; and the
+people became accustomed to the sight of the tall gray horse carrying
+the tall gray old man, with his handsome, fierce, eagle face, by the
+side of the brown pony which bore little Lord Fauntleroy. And in their
+rides together through the green lanes and pretty country roads, the two
+riders became more intimate than ever. And gradually the old man heard
+a great deal about “Dearest” and her life. As Fauntleroy trotted by the
+big horse he chatted gayly. There could not well have been a brighter
+little comrade, his nature was so happy. It was he who talked the most.
+The Earl often was silent, listening and watching the joyous, glowing
+face. Sometimes he would tell his young companion to set the pony off at
+a gallop, and when the little fellow dashed off, sitting so straight and
+fearless, he would watch him with a gleam of pride and pleasure in his
+eyes; and when, after such a dash, Fauntleroy came back waving his cap
+with a laughing shout, he always felt that he and his grandfather were
+very good friends indeed.
+
+One thing that the Earl discovered was that his son's wife did not lead
+an idle life. It was not long before he learned that the poor people
+knew her very well indeed. When there was sickness or sorrow or poverty
+in any house, the little brougham often stood before the door.
+
+“Do you know,” said Fauntleroy once, “they all say, 'God bless you!'
+when they see her, and the children are glad. There are some who go to
+her house to be taught to sew. She says she feels so rich now that she
+wants to help the poor ones.”
+
+It had not displeased the Earl to find that the mother of his heir had a
+beautiful young face and looked as much like a lady as if she had been
+a duchess; and in one way it did not displease him to know that she was
+popular and beloved by the poor. And yet he was often conscious of a
+hard, jealous pang when he saw how she filled her child's heart and how
+the boy clung to her as his best beloved. The old man would have desired
+to stand first himself and have no rival.
+
+That same morning he drew up his horse on an elevated point of the moor
+over which they rode, and made a gesture with his whip, over the broad,
+beautiful landscape spread before them.
+
+“Do you know that all that land belongs to me?” he said to Fauntleroy.
+
+“Does it?” answered Fauntleroy. “How much it is to belong to one person,
+and how beautiful!”
+
+“Do you know that some day it will all belong to you--that and a great
+deal more?”
+
+“To me!” exclaimed Fauntleroy in rather an awe-stricken voice. “When?”
+
+“When I am dead,” his grandfather answered.
+
+“Then I don't want it,” said Fauntleroy; “I want you to live always.”
+
+“That's kind,” answered the Earl in his dry way; “nevertheless, some day
+it will all be yours--some day you will be the Earl of Dorincourt.”
+
+Little Lord Fauntleroy sat very still in his saddle for a few moments.
+He looked over the broad moors, the green farms, the beautiful copses,
+the cottages in the lanes, the pretty village, and over the trees to
+where the turrets of the great castle rose, gray and stately. Then he
+gave a queer little sigh.
+
+“What are you thinking of?” asked the Earl.
+
+“I am thinking,” replied Fauntleroy, “what a little boy I am! and of
+what Dearest said to me.”
+
+“What was it?” inquired the Earl.
+
+“She said that perhaps it was not so easy to be very rich; that if any
+one had so many things always, one might sometimes forget that every
+one else was not so fortunate, and that one who is rich should always
+be careful and try to remember. I was talking to her about how good you
+were, and she said that was such a good thing, because an earl had
+so much power, and if he cared only about his own pleasure and never
+thought about the people who lived on his lands, they might have trouble
+that he could help--and there were so many people, and it would be such
+a hard thing. And I was just looking at all those houses, and thinking
+how I should have to find out about the people, when I was an earl. How
+did you find out about them?”
+
+As his lordship's knowledge of his tenantry consisted in finding out
+which of them paid their rent promptly, and in turning out those who
+did not, this was rather a hard question. “Newick finds out for me,”
+ he said, and he pulled his great gray mustache, and looked at his small
+questioner rather uneasily. “We will go home now,” he added; “and when
+you are an earl, see to it that you are a better earl than I have been!”
+
+He was very silent as they rode home. He felt it to be almost incredible
+that he who had never really loved any one in his life, should find
+himself growing so fond of this little fellow,--as without doubt he
+was. At first he had only been pleased and proud of Cedric's beauty and
+bravery, but there was something more than pride in his feeling now. He
+laughed a grim, dry laugh all to himself sometimes, when he thought how
+he liked to have the boy near him, how he liked to hear his voice, and
+how in secret he really wished to be liked and thought well of by his
+small grandson.
+
+“I'm an old fellow in my dotage, and I have nothing else to think of,”
+ he would say to himself; and yet he knew it was not that altogether.
+And if he had allowed himself to admit the truth, he would perhaps have
+found himself obliged to own that the very things which attracted him,
+in spite of himself, were the qualities he had never possessed--the
+frank, true, kindly nature, the affectionate trustfulness which could
+never think evil.
+
+It was only about a week after that ride when, after a visit to his
+mother, Fauntleroy came into the library with a troubled, thoughtful
+face. He sat down in that high-backed chair in which he had sat on the
+evening of his arrival, and for a while he looked at the embers on the
+hearth. The Earl watched him in silence, wondering what was coming. It
+was evident that Cedric had something on his mind. At last he looked up.
+“Does Newick know all about the people?” he asked.
+
+“It is his business to know about them,” said his lordship. “Been
+neglecting it--has he?”
+
+Contradictory as it may seem, there was nothing which entertained and
+edified him more than the little fellow's interest in his tenantry. He
+had never taken any interest in them himself, but it pleased him well
+enough that, with all his childish habits of thought and in the midst
+of all his childish amusements and high spirits, there should be such a
+quaint seriousness working in the curly head.
+
+“There is a place,” said Fauntleroy, looking up at him with wide-open,
+horror-stricken eye--“Dearest has seen it; it is at the other end of the
+village. The houses are close together, and almost falling down; you
+can scarcely breathe; and the people are so poor, and everything is
+dreadful! Often they have fever, and the children die; and it makes them
+wicked to live like that, and be so poor and miserable! It is worse than
+Michael and Bridget! The rain comes in at the roof! Dearest went to see
+a poor woman who lived there. She would not let me come near her until
+she had changed all her things. The tears ran down her cheeks when she
+told me about it!”
+
+The tears had come into his own eyes, but he smiled through them.
+
+“I told her you didn't know, and I would tell you,” he said. He jumped
+down and came and leaned against the Earl's chair. “You can make it all
+right,” he said, “just as you made it all right for Higgins. You always
+make it all right for everybody. I told her you would, and that Newick
+must have forgotten to tell you.”
+
+The Earl looked down at the hand on his knee. Newick had not forgotten
+to tell him; in fact, Newick had spoken to him more than once of the
+desperate condition of the end of the village known as Earl's Court.
+He knew all about the tumble-down, miserable cottages, and the bad
+drainage, and the damp walls and broken windows and leaking roofs,
+and all about the poverty, the fever, and the misery. Mr. Mordaunt
+had painted it all to him in the strongest words he could use, and his
+lordship had used violent language in response; and, when his gout had
+been at the worst, he said that the sooner the people of Earl's Court
+died and were buried by the parish the better it would be,--and there
+was an end of the matter. And yet, as he looked at the small hand on his
+knee, and from the small hand to the honest, earnest, frank-eyed face,
+he was actually a little ashamed both of Earl's Court and himself.
+
+“What!” he said; “you want to make a builder of model cottages of me,
+do you?” And he positively put his own hand upon the childish one and
+stroked it.
+
+“Those must be pulled down,” said Fauntleroy, with great eagerness.
+“Dearest says so. Let us--let us go and have them pulled down to-morrow.
+The people will be so glad when they see you! They'll know you have come
+to help them!” And his eyes shone like stars in his glowing face.
+
+The Earl rose from his chair and put his hand on the child's shoulder.
+“Let us go out and take our walk on the terrace,” he said, with a short
+laugh; “and we can talk it over.”
+
+And though he laughed two or three times again, as they walked to and
+fro on the broad stone terrace, where they walked together almost
+every fine evening, he seemed to be thinking of something which did
+not displease him, and still he kept his hand on his small companion's
+shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+The truth was that Mrs. Errol had found a great many sad things in the
+course of her work among the poor of the little village that appeared so
+picturesque when it was seen from the moor-sides. Everything was not as
+picturesque, when seen near by, as it looked from a distance. She had
+found idleness and poverty and ignorance where there should have been
+comfort and industry. And she had discovered, after a while, that
+Erleboro was considered to be the worst village in that part of the
+country. Mr. Mordaunt had told her a great many of his difficulties
+and discouragements, and she had found out a great deal by herself. The
+agents who had managed the property had always been chosen to please the
+Earl, and had cared nothing for the degradation and wretchedness of the
+poor tenants. Many things, therefore, had been neglected which should
+have been attended to, and matters had gone from bad to worse.
+
+As to Earl's Court, it was a disgrace, with its dilapidated houses and
+miserable, careless, sickly people. When first Mrs. Errol went to the
+place, it made her shudder. Such ugliness and slovenliness and want
+seemed worse in a country place than in a city. It seemed as if there it
+might be helped. And as she looked at the squalid, uncared-for children
+growing up in the midst of vice and brutal indifference, she thought
+of her own little boy spending his days in the great, splendid castle,
+guarded and served like a young prince, having no wish ungratified, and
+knowing nothing but luxury and ease and beauty. And a bold thought came
+in her wise little mother-heart. Gradually she had begun to see, as had
+others, that it had been her boy's good fortune to please the Earl very
+much, and that he would scarcely be likely to be denied anything for
+which he expressed a desire.
+
+“The Earl would give him anything,” she said to Mr. Mordaunt. “He would
+indulge his every whim. Why should not that indulgence be used for the
+good of others? It is for me to see that this shall come to pass.”
+
+She knew she could trust the kind, childish heart; so she told the
+little fellow the story of Earl's Court, feeling sure that he would
+speak of it to his grandfather, and hoping that some good results would
+follow.
+
+And strange as it appeared to every one, good results did follow.
+
+The fact was that the strongest power to influence the Earl was his
+grandson's perfect confidence in him--the fact that Cedric always
+believed that his grandfather was going to do what was right and
+generous. He could not quite make up his mind to let him discover that
+he had no inclination to be generous at all, and that he wanted his
+own way on all occasions, whether it was right or wrong. It was such
+a novelty to be regarded with admiration as a benefactor of the entire
+human race, and the soul of nobility, that he did not enjoy the idea of
+looking into the affectionate brown eyes, and saying: “I am a violent,
+selfish old rascal; I never did a generous thing in my life, and I don't
+care about Earl's Court or the poor people”--or something which would
+amount to the same thing. He actually had learned to be fond enough
+of that small boy with the mop of yellow love-locks, to feel that he
+himself would prefer to be guilty of an amiable action now and then.
+And so--though he laughed at himself--after some reflection, he sent for
+Newick, and had quite a long interview with him on the subject of the
+Court, and it was decided that the wretched hovels should be pulled down
+and new houses should be built.
+
+“It is Lord Fauntleroy who insists on it,” he said dryly; “he thinks it
+will improve the property. You can tell the tenants that it's his
+idea.” And he looked down at his small lordship, who was lying on the
+hearth-rug playing with Dougal. The great dog was the lad's constant
+companion, and followed him about everywhere, stalking solemnly after
+him when he walked, and trotting majestically behind when he rode or
+drove.
+
+Of course, both the country people and the town people heard of the
+proposed improvement. At first, many of them would not believe it; but
+when a small army of workmen arrived and commenced pulling down the
+crazy, squalid cottages, people began to understand that little Lord
+Fauntleroy had done them a good turn again, and that through his
+innocent interference the scandal of Earl's Court had at last been
+removed. If he had only known how they talked about him and praised him
+everywhere, and prophesied great things for him when he grew up, how
+astonished he would have been! But he never suspected it. He lived his
+simple, happy, child life,--frolicking about in the park; chasing the
+rabbits to their burrows; lying under the trees on the grass, or on
+the rug in the library, reading wonderful books and talking to the Earl
+about them, and then telling the stories again to his mother; writing
+long letters to Dick and Mr. Hobbs, who responded in characteristic
+fashion; riding out at his grandfather's side, or with Wilkins as
+escort. As they rode through the market town, he used to see the people
+turn and look, and he noticed that as they lifted their hats their
+faces often brightened very much; but he thought it was all because his
+grandfather was with him.
+
+“They are so fond of you,” he once said, looking up at his lordship with
+a bright smile. “Do you see how glad they are when they see you? I hope
+they will some day be as fond of me. It must be nice to have EVERYbody
+like you.” And he felt quite proud to be the grandson of so greatly
+admired and beloved an individual.
+
+When the cottages were being built, the lad and his grandfather used to
+ride over to Earl's Court together to look at them, and Fauntleroy
+was full of interest. He would dismount from his pony and go and make
+acquaintance with the workmen, asking them questions about building and
+bricklaying, and telling them things about America. After two or three
+such conversations, he was able to enlighten the Earl on the subject of
+brick-making, as they rode home.
+
+“I always like to know about things like those,” he said, “because you
+never know what you are coming to.”
+
+When he left them, the workmen used to talk him over among themselves,
+and laugh at his odd, innocent speeches; but they liked him, and
+liked to see him stand among them, talking away, with his hands in his
+pockets, his hat pushed back on his curls, and his small face full
+of eagerness. “He's a rare un,” they used to say. “An' a noice little
+outspoken chap, too. Not much o' th' bad stock in him.” And they would
+go home and tell their wives about him, and the women would tell each
+other, and so it came about that almost every one talked of, or knew
+some story of, little Lord Fauntleroy; and gradually almost every
+one knew that the “wicked Earl” had found something he cared for at
+last--something which had touched and even warmed his hard, bitter old
+heart.
+
+But no one knew quite how much it had been warmed, and how day by day
+the old man found himself caring more and more for the child, who was
+the only creature that had ever trusted him. He found himself looking
+forward to the time when Cedric would be a young man, strong and
+beautiful, with life all before him, but having still that kind heart
+and the power to make friends everywhere, and the Earl wondered what the
+lad would do, and how he would use his gifts. Often as he watched the
+little fellow lying upon the hearth, conning some big book, the light
+shining on the bright young head, his old eyes would gleam and his cheek
+would flush.
+
+“The boy can do anything,” he would say to himself, “anything!”
+
+He never spoke to any one else of his feeling for Cedric; when he spoke
+of him to others it was always with the same grim smile. But Fauntleroy
+soon knew that his grandfather loved him and always liked him to be
+near--near to his chair if they were in the library, opposite to him at
+table, or by his side when he rode or drove or took his evening walk on
+the broad terrace.
+
+“Do you remember,” Cedric said once, looking up from his book as he lay
+on the rug, “do you remember what I said to you that first night about
+our being good companions? I don't think any people could be better
+companions than we are, do you?”
+
+“We are pretty good companions, I should say,” replied his lordship.
+“Come here.”
+
+Fauntleroy scrambled up and went to him.
+
+“Is there anything you want,” the Earl asked; “anything you have not?”
+
+The little fellow's brown eyes fixed themselves on his grandfather with
+a rather wistful look.
+
+“Only one thing,” he answered.
+
+“What is that?” inquired the Earl.
+
+Fauntleroy was silent a second. He had not thought matters over to
+himself so long for nothing.
+
+“What is it?” my lord repeated.
+
+Fauntleroy answered.
+
+“It is Dearest,” he said.
+
+The old Earl winced a little.
+
+“But you see her almost every day,” he said. “Is not that enough?”
+
+“I used to see her all the time,” said Fauntleroy. “She used to kiss me
+when I went to sleep at night, and in the morning she was always there,
+and we could tell each other things without waiting.”
+
+The old eyes and the young ones looked into each other through a moment
+of silence. Then the Earl knitted his brows.
+
+“Do you NEVER forget about your mother?” he said.
+
+“No,” answered Fauntleroy, “never; and she never forgets about me.
+I shouldn't forget about YOU, you know, if I didn't live with you. I
+should think about you all the more.”
+
+“Upon my word,” said the Earl, after looking at him a moment longer, “I
+believe you would!”
+
+The jealous pang that came when the boy spoke so of his mother seemed
+even stronger than it had been before; it was stronger because of this
+old man's increasing affection for the boy.
+
+But it was not long before he had other pangs, so much harder to face
+that he almost forgot, for the time, he had ever hated his son's wife at
+all. And in a strange and startling way it happened. One evening, just
+before the Earl's Court cottages were completed, there was a grand
+dinner party at Dorincourt. There had not been such a party at the
+Castle for a long time. A few days before it took place, Sir Harry
+Lorridaile and Lady Lorridaile, who was the Earl's only sister, actually
+came for a visit--a thing which caused the greatest excitement in the
+village and set Mrs. Dibble's shop-bell tinkling madly again, because
+it was well known that Lady Lorridaile had only been to Dorincourt once
+since her marriage, thirty-five years before. She was a handsome old
+lady with white curls and dimpled, peachy cheeks, and she was as good
+as gold, but she had never approved of her brother any more than did the
+rest of the world, and having a strong will of her own and not being
+at all afraid to speak her mind frankly, she had, after several lively
+quarrels with his lordship, seen very little of him since her young
+days.
+
+She had heard a great deal of him that was not pleasant through the
+years in which they had been separated. She had heard about his neglect
+of his wife, and of the poor lady's death; and of his indifference to
+his children; and of the two weak, vicious, unprepossessing elder boys
+who had been no credit to him or to any one else. Those two elder
+sons, Bevis and Maurice, she had never seen; but once there had come to
+Lorridaile Park a tall, stalwart, beautiful young fellow about eighteen
+years old, who had told her that he was her nephew Cedric Errol, and
+that he had come to see her because he was passing near the place and
+wished to look at his Aunt Constantia of whom he had heard his mother
+speak. Lady Lorridaile's kind heart had warmed through and through at
+the sight of the young man, and she had made him stay with her a week,
+and petted him, and made much of him and admired him immensely. He was
+so sweet-tempered, light-hearted, spirited a lad, that when he went
+away, she had hoped to see him often again; but she never did, because
+the Earl had been in a bad humor when he went back to Dorincourt,
+and had forbidden him ever to go to Lorridaile Park again. But Lady
+Lorridaile had always remembered him tenderly, and though she feared he
+had made a rash marriage in America, she had been very angry when she
+heard how he had been cast off by his father and that no one really knew
+where or how he lived. At last there came a rumor of his death, and then
+Bevis had been thrown from his horse and killed, and Maurice had died in
+Rome of the fever; and soon after came the story of the American child
+who was to be found and brought home as Lord Fauntleroy.
+
+“Probably to be ruined as the others were,” she said to her husband,
+“unless his mother is good enough and has a will of her own to help her
+to take care of him.”
+
+But when she heard that Cedric's mother had been parted from him she was
+almost too indignant for words.
+
+“It is disgraceful, Harry!” she said. “Fancy a child of that age being
+taken from his mother, and made the companion of a man like my brother!
+He will either be brutal to the boy or indulge him until he is a little
+monster. If I thought it would do any good to write----”
+
+“It wouldn't, Constantia,” said Sir Harry.
+
+“I know it wouldn't,” she answered. “I know his lordship the Earl of
+Dorincourt too well;--but it is outrageous.”
+
+Not only the poor people and farmers heard about little Lord Fauntleroy;
+others knew him. He was talked about so much and there were so many
+stories of him--of his beauty, his sweet temper, his popularity, and
+his growing influence over the Earl, his grandfather--that rumors of him
+reached the gentry at their country places and he was heard of in
+more than one county of England. People talked about him at the dinner
+tables, ladies pitied his young mother, and wondered if the boy were as
+handsome as he was said to be, and men who knew the Earl and his habits
+laughed heartily at the stories of the little fellow's belief in his
+lordship's amiability. Sir Thomas Asshe of Asshawe Hall, being in
+Erleboro one day, met the Earl and his grandson riding together, and
+stopped to shake hands with my lord and congratulate him on his change
+of looks and on his recovery from the gout. “And, d' ye know,” he said,
+when he spoke of the incident afterward, “the old man looked as proud as
+a turkey-cock; and upon my word I don't wonder, for a handsomer, finer
+lad than his grandson I never saw! As straight as a dart, and sat his
+pony like a young trooper!”
+
+And so by degrees Lady Lorridaile, too, heard of the child; she heard
+about Higgins and the lame boy, and the cottages at Earl's Court, and a
+score of other things,--and she began to wish to see the little fellow.
+And just as she was wondering how it might be brought about, to her
+utter astonishment, she received a letter from her brother inviting her
+to come with her husband to Dorincourt.
+
+“It seems incredible!” she exclaimed. “I have heard it said that the
+child has worked miracles, and I begin to believe it. They say my
+brother adores the boy and can scarcely endure to have him out of sight.
+And he is so proud of him! Actually, I believe he wants to show him to
+us.” And she accepted the invitation at once.
+
+When she reached Dorincourt Castle with Sir Harry, it was late in the
+afternoon, and she went to her room at once before seeing her brother.
+Having dressed for dinner, she entered the drawing-room. The Earl was
+there standing near the fire and looking very tall and imposing; and at
+his side stood a little boy in black velvet, and a large Vandyke collar
+of rich lace--a little fellow whose round bright face was so handsome,
+and who turned upon her such beautiful, candid brown eyes, that she
+almost uttered an exclamation of pleasure and surprise at the sight.
+
+As she shook hands with the Earl, she called him by the name she had not
+used since her girlhood.
+
+“What, Molyneux!” she said, “is this the child?”
+
+“Yes, Constantia,” answered the Earl, “this is the boy. Fauntleroy, this
+is your grand-aunt, Lady Lorridaile.”
+
+“How do you do, Grand-Aunt?” said Fauntleroy.
+
+Lady Lorridaile put her hand on his shoulders, and after looking down
+into his upraised face a few seconds, kissed him warmly.
+
+“I am your Aunt Constantia,” she said, “and I loved your poor papa, and
+you are very like him.”
+
+“It makes me glad when I am told I am like him,” answered Fauntleroy,
+“because it seems as if every one liked him,--just like Dearest,
+eszackly,--Aunt Constantia” (adding the two words after a second's
+pause).
+
+Lady Lorridaile was delighted. She bent and kissed him again, and from
+that moment they were warm friends.
+
+“Well, Molyneux,” she said aside to the Earl afterward, “it could not
+possibly be better than this!”
+
+“I think not,” answered his lordship dryly. “He is a fine little
+fellow. We are great friends. He believes me to be the most charming
+and sweet-tempered of philanthropists. I will confess to you,
+Constantia,--as you would find it out if I did not,--that I am in some
+slight danger of becoming rather an old fool about him.”
+
+“What does his mother think of you?” asked Lady Lorridaile, with her
+usual straightforwardness.
+
+“I have not asked her,” answered the Earl, slightly scowling.
+
+“Well,” said Lady Lorridaile, “I will be frank with you at the outset,
+Molyneux, and tell you I don't approve of your course, and that it is my
+intention to call on Mrs. Errol as soon as possible; so if you wish to
+quarrel with me, you had better mention it at once. What I hear of the
+young creature makes me quite sure that her child owes her everything.
+We were told even at Lorridaile Park that your poorer tenants adore her
+already.”
+
+“They adore HIM,” said the Earl, nodding toward Fauntleroy. “As to Mrs.
+Errol, you'll find her a pretty little woman. I'm rather in debt to her
+for giving some of her beauty to the boy, and you can go to see her if
+you like. All I ask is that she will remain at Court Lodge and that you
+will not ask me to go and see her,” and he scowled a little again.
+
+“But he doesn't hate her as much as he used to, that is plain enough to
+me,” her ladyship said to Sir Harry afterward. “And he is a changed man
+in a measure, and, incredible as it may seem, Harry, it is my opinion
+that he is being made into a human being, through nothing more nor less
+than his affection for that innocent, affectionate little fellow. Why,
+the child actually loves him--leans on his chair and against his knee.
+His own children would as soon have thought of nestling up to a tiger.”
+
+The very next day she went to call upon Mrs. Errol. When she returned,
+she said to her brother:
+
+“Molyneux, she is the loveliest little woman I ever saw! She has a voice
+like a silver bell, and you may thank her for making the boy what he is.
+She has given him more than her beauty, and you make a great mistake in
+not persuading her to come and take charge of you. I shall invite her to
+Lorridaile.”
+
+“She'll not leave the boy,” replied the Earl.
+
+“I must have the boy too,” said Lady Lorridaile, laughing.
+
+But she knew Fauntleroy would not be given up to her, and each day she
+saw more clearly how closely those two had grown to each other, and
+how all the proud, grim old man's ambition and hope and love centered
+themselves in the child, and how the warm, innocent nature returned his
+affection with most perfect trust and good faith.
+
+She knew, too, that the prime reason for the great dinner party was the
+Earl's secret desire to show the world his grandson and heir, and to let
+people see that the boy who had been so much spoken of and described was
+even a finer little specimen of boyhood than rumor had made him.
+
+“Bevis and Maurice were such a bitter humiliation to him,” she said to
+her husband. “Every one knew it. He actually hated them. His pride
+has full sway here.” Perhaps there was not one person who accepted the
+invitation without feeling some curiosity about little Lord Fauntleroy,
+and wondering if he would be on view.
+
+And when the time came he was on view.
+
+“The lad has good manners,” said the Earl. “He will be in no one's
+way. Children are usually idiots or bores,--mine were both,--but he can
+actually answer when he's spoken to, and be silent when he is not. He is
+never offensive.”
+
+But he was not allowed to be silent very long. Every one had something
+to say to him. The fact was they wished to make him talk. The ladies
+petted him and asked him questions, and the men asked him questions too,
+and joked with him, as the men on the steamer had done when he crossed
+the Atlantic. Fauntleroy did not quite understand why they laughed so
+sometimes when he answered them, but he was so used to seeing people
+amused when he was quite serious, that he did not mind. He thought the
+whole evening delightful. The magnificent rooms were so brilliant with
+lights, there were so many flowers, the gentlemen seemed so gay, and
+the ladies wore such beautiful, wonderful dresses, and such sparkling
+ornaments in their hair and on their necks. There was one young lady
+who, he heard them say, had just come down from London, where she had
+spent the “season”; and she was so charming that he could not keep his
+eyes from her. She was a rather tall young lady with a proud little
+head, and very soft dark hair, and large eyes the color of purple
+pansies, and the color on her cheeks and lips was like that of a rose.
+She was dressed in a beautiful white dress, and had pearls around her
+throat. There was one strange thing about this young lady. So many
+gentlemen stood near her, and seemed anxious to please her, that
+Fauntleroy thought she must be something like a princess. He was so much
+interested in her that without knowing it he drew nearer and nearer to
+her, and at last she turned and spoke to him.
+
+“Come here, Lord Fauntleroy,” she said, smiling; “and tell me why you
+look at me so.”
+
+“I was thinking how beautiful you are,” his young lordship replied.
+
+Then all the gentlemen laughed outright, and the young lady laughed a
+little too, and the rose color in her cheeks brightened.
+
+“Ah, Fauntleroy,” said one of the gentlemen who had laughed most
+heartily, “make the most of your time! When you are older you will not
+have the courage to say that.”
+
+“But nobody could help saying it,” said Fauntleroy sweetly. “Could you
+help it? Don't YOU think she is pretty, too?”
+
+“We are not allowed to say what we think,” said the gentleman, while the
+rest laughed more than ever.
+
+But the beautiful young lady--her name was Miss Vivian Herbert--put out
+her hand and drew Cedric to her side, looking prettier than before, if
+possible.
+
+“Lord Fauntleroy shall say what he thinks,” she said; “and I am much
+obliged to him. I am sure he thinks what he says.” And she kissed him on
+his cheek.
+
+“I think you are prettier than any one I ever saw,” said Fauntleroy,
+looking at her with innocent, admiring eyes, “except Dearest. Of course,
+I couldn't think any one QUITE as pretty as Dearest. I think she is the
+prettiest person in the world.”
+
+“I am sure she is,” said Miss Vivian Herbert. And she laughed and kissed
+his cheek again.
+
+She kept him by her side a great part of the evening, and the group
+of which they were the center was very gay. He did not know how it
+happened, but before long he was telling them all about America, and
+the Republican Rally, and Mr. Hobbs and Dick, and in the end he
+proudly produced from his pocket Dick's parting gift,--the red silk
+handkerchief.
+
+“I put it in my pocket to-night because it was a party,” he said. “I
+thought Dick would like me to wear it at a party.”
+
+And queer as the big, flaming, spotted thing was, there was a serious,
+affectionate look in his eyes, which prevented his audience from
+laughing very much.
+
+“You see, I like it,” he said, “because Dick is my friend.”
+
+But though he was talked to so much, as the Earl had said, he was in no
+one's way. He could be quiet and listen when others talked, and so no
+one found him tiresome. A slight smile crossed more than one face when
+several times he went and stood near his grandfather's chair, or sat on
+a stool close to him, watching him and absorbing every word he uttered
+with the most charmed interest. Once he stood so near the chair's arm
+that his cheek touched the Earl's shoulder, and his lordship, detecting
+the general smile, smiled a little himself. He knew what the lookers-on
+were thinking, and he felt some secret amusement in their seeing what
+good friends he was with this youngster, who might have been expected to
+share the popular opinion of him.
+
+Mr. Havisham had been expected to arrive in the afternoon, but, strange
+to say, he was late. Such a thing had really never been known to happen
+before during all the years in which he had been a visitor at Dorincourt
+Castle. He was so late that the guests were on the point of rising to
+go in to dinner when he arrived. When he approached his host, the Earl
+regarded him with amazement. He looked as if he had been hurried or
+agitated; his dry, keen old face was actually pale.
+
+“I was detained,” he said, in a low voice to the Earl, “by--an
+extraordinary event.”
+
+It was as unlike the methodic old lawyer to be agitated by anything as
+it was to be late, but it was evident that he had been disturbed. At
+dinner he ate scarcely anything, and two or three times, when he was
+spoken to, he started as if his thoughts were far away. At dessert,
+when Fauntleroy came in, he looked at him more than once, nervously
+and uneasily. Fauntleroy noted the look and wondered at it. He and Mr.
+Havisham were on friendly terms, and they usually exchanged smiles. The
+lawyer seemed to have forgotten to smile that evening.
+
+The fact was, he forgot everything but the strange and painful news he
+knew he must tell the Earl before the night was over--the strange news
+which he knew would be so terrible a shock, and which would change the
+face of everything. As he looked about at the splendid rooms and the
+brilliant company,--at the people gathered together, he knew, more that
+they might see the bright-haired little fellow near the Earl's chair
+than for any other reason,--as he looked at the proud old man and at
+little Lord Fauntleroy smiling at his side, he really felt quite shaken,
+notwithstanding that he was a hardened old lawyer. What a blow it was
+that he must deal them!
+
+He did not exactly know how the long, superb dinner ended. He sat
+through it as if he were in a dream, and several times he saw the Earl
+glance at him in surprise.
+
+But it was over at last, and the gentlemen joined the ladies in the
+drawing-room. They found Fauntleroy sitting on the sofa with Miss Vivian
+Herbert,--the great beauty of the last London season; they had been
+looking at some pictures, and he was thanking his companion as the door
+opened.
+
+“I'm ever so much obliged to you for being so kind to me!” he was
+saying; “I never was at a party before, and I've enjoyed myself so
+much!”
+
+He had enjoyed himself so much that when the gentlemen gathered about
+Miss Herbert again and began to talk to her, as he listened and tried
+to understand their laughing speeches, his eyelids began to droop. They
+drooped until they covered his eyes two or three times, and then the
+sound of Miss Herbert's low, pretty laugh would bring him back, and he
+would open them again for about two seconds. He was quite sure he was
+not going to sleep, but there was a large, yellow satin cushion behind
+him and his head sank against it, and after a while his eyelids drooped
+for the last time. They did not even quite open when, as it seemed a
+long time after, some one kissed him lightly on the cheek. It was Miss
+Vivian Herbert, who was going away, and she spoke to him softly.
+
+“Good-night, little Lord Fauntleroy,” she said. “Sleep well.”
+
+And in the morning he did not know that he had tried to open his eyes
+and had murmured sleepily, “Good-night--I'm so--glad--I saw you--you are
+so--pretty----”
+
+He only had a very faint recollection of hearing the gentlemen laugh
+again and of wondering why they did it.
+
+No sooner had the last guest left the room, than Mr. Havisham turned
+from his place by the fire, and stepped nearer the sofa, where he stood
+looking down at the sleeping occupant. Little Lord Fauntleroy was taking
+his ease luxuriously. One leg crossed the other and swung over the edge
+of the sofa; one arm was flung easily above his head; the warm flush
+of healthful, happy, childish sleep was on his quiet face; his waving
+tangle of bright hair strayed over the yellow satin cushion. He made a
+picture well worth looking at.
+
+As Mr. Havisham looked at it, he put his hand up and rubbed his shaven
+chin, with a harassed countenance.
+
+“Well, Havisham,” said the Earl's harsh voice behind him. “What is it?
+It is evident something has happened. What was the extraordinary event,
+if I may ask?”
+
+Mr. Havisham turned from the sofa, still rubbing his chin.
+
+“It was bad news,” he answered, “distressing news, my lord--the worst of
+news. I am sorry to be the bearer of it.”
+
+The Earl had been uneasy for some time during the evening, as he glanced
+at Mr. Havisham, and when he was uneasy he was always ill-tempered.
+
+“Why do you look so at the boy!” he exclaimed irritably. “You have been
+looking at him all the evening as if--See here now, why should you look
+at the boy, Havisham, and hang over him like some bird of ill-omen! What
+has your news to do with Lord Fauntleroy?”
+
+“My lord,” said Mr. Havisham, “I will waste no words. My news has
+everything to do with Lord Fauntleroy. And if we are to believe it--it
+is not Lord Fauntleroy who lies sleeping before us, but only the son of
+Captain Errol. And the present Lord Fauntleroy is the son of your son
+Bevis, and is at this moment in a lodging-house in London.”
+
+The Earl clutched the arms of his chair with both his hands until the
+veins stood out upon them; the veins stood out on his forehead too; his
+fierce old face was almost livid.
+
+“What do you mean!” he cried out. “You are mad! Whose lie is this?”
+
+“If it is a lie,” answered Mr. Havisham, “it is painfully like the
+truth. A woman came to my chambers this morning. She said your son
+Bevis married her six years ago in London. She showed me her marriage
+certificate. They quarrelled a year after the marriage, and he paid her
+to keep away from him. She has a son five years old. She is an American
+of the lower classes,--an ignorant person,--and until lately she did not
+fully understand what her son could claim. She consulted a lawyer and
+found out that the boy was really Lord Fauntleroy and the heir to the
+earldom of Dorincourt; and she, of course, insists on his claims being
+acknowledged.”
+
+There was a movement of the curly head on the yellow satin cushion. A
+soft, long, sleepy sigh came from the parted lips, and the little boy
+stirred in his sleep, but not at all restlessly or uneasily. Not at all
+as if his slumber were disturbed by the fact that he was being proved
+a small impostor and that he was not Lord Fauntleroy at all and never
+would be the Earl of Dorincourt. He only turned his rosy face more on
+its side, as if to enable the old man who stared at it so solemnly to
+see it better.
+
+The handsome, grim old face was ghastly. A bitter smile fixed itself
+upon it.
+
+“I should refuse to believe a word of it,” he said, “if it were not such
+a low, scoundrelly piece of business that it becomes quite possible in
+connection with the name of my son Bevis. It is quite like Bevis. He was
+always a disgrace to us. Always a weak, untruthful, vicious young brute
+with low tastes--my son and heir, Bevis, Lord Fauntleroy. The woman is
+an ignorant, vulgar person, you say?”
+
+“I am obliged to admit that she can scarcely spell her own name,”
+ answered the lawyer. “She is absolutely uneducated and openly mercenary.
+She cares for nothing but the money. She is very handsome in a coarse
+way, but----”
+
+The fastidious old lawyer ceased speaking and gave a sort of shudder.
+
+The veins on the old Earl's forehead stood out like purple cords.
+
+Something else stood out upon it too--cold drops of moisture. He took
+out his handkerchief and swept them away. His smile grew even more
+bitter.
+
+“And I,” he said, “I objected to--to the other woman, the mother of
+this child” (pointing to the sleeping form on the sofa); “I refused to
+recognize her. And yet she could spell her own name. I suppose this is
+retribution.”
+
+Suddenly he sprang up from his chair and began to walk up and down the
+room. Fierce and terrible words poured forth from his lips. His rage and
+hatred and cruel disappointment shook him as a storm shakes a tree. His
+violence was something dreadful to see, and yet Mr. Havisham noticed
+that at the very worst of his wrath he never seemed to forget the little
+sleeping figure on the yellow satin cushion, and that he never once
+spoke loud enough to awaken it.
+
+“I might have known it,” he said. “They were a disgrace to me from their
+first hour! I hated them both; and they hated me! Bevis was the worse of
+the two. I will not believe this yet, though! I will contend against it
+to the last. But it is like Bevis--it is like him!”
+
+And then he raged again and asked questions about the woman, about her
+proofs, and pacing the room, turned first white and then purple in his
+repressed fury.
+
+When at last he had learned all there was to be told, and knew the
+worst, Mr. Havisham looked at him with a feeling of anxiety. He looked
+broken and haggard and changed. His rages had always been bad for
+him, but this one had been worse than the rest because there had been
+something more than rage in it.
+
+He came slowly back to the sofa, at last, and stood near it.
+
+“If any one had told me I could be fond of a child,” he said, his harsh
+voice low and unsteady, “I should not have believed them. I always
+detested children--my own more than the rest. I am fond of this one; he
+is fond of me” (with a bitter smile). “I am not popular; I never was.
+But he is fond of me. He never was afraid of me--he always trusted me.
+He would have filled my place better than I have filled it. I know that.
+He would have been an honor to the name.”
+
+He bent down and stood a minute or so looking at the happy, sleeping
+face. His shaggy eyebrows were knitted fiercely, and yet somehow he did
+not seem fierce at all. He put up his hand, pushed the bright hair back
+from the forehead, and then turned away and rang the bell.
+
+When the largest footman appeared, he pointed to the sofa.
+
+“Take”--he said, and then his voice changed a little--“take Lord
+Fauntleroy to his room.”
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+When Mr. Hobbs's young friend left him to go to Dorincourt Castle and
+become Lord Fauntleroy, and the grocery-man had time to realize that the
+Atlantic Ocean lay between himself and the small companion who had spent
+so many agreeable hours in his society, he really began to feel very
+lonely indeed. The fact was, Mr. Hobbs was not a clever man nor even a
+bright one; he was, indeed, rather a slow and heavy person, and he had
+never made many acquaintances. He was not mentally energetic enough
+to know how to amuse himself, and in truth he never did anything of an
+entertaining nature but read the newspapers and add up his accounts. It
+was not very easy for him to add up his accounts, and sometimes it took
+him a long time to bring them out right; and in the old days, little
+Lord Fauntleroy, who had learned how to add up quite nicely with his
+fingers and a slate and pencil, had sometimes even gone to the length
+of trying to help him; and, then too, he had been so good a listener and
+had taken such an interest in what the newspaper said, and he and Mr.
+Hobbs had held such long conversations about the Revolution and the
+British and the elections and the Republican party, that it was no
+wonder his going left a blank in the grocery store. At first it seemed
+to Mr. Hobbs that Cedric was not really far away, and would come back
+again; that some day he would look up from his paper and see the little
+lad standing in the door-way, in his white suit and red stockings, and
+with his straw hat on the back of his head, and would hear him say in
+his cheerful little voice: “Hello, Mr. Hobbs! This is a hot day--isn't
+it?” But as the days passed on and this did not happen, Mr. Hobbs felt
+very dull and uneasy. He did not even enjoy his newspaper as much as he
+used to. He would put the paper down on his knee after reading it, and
+sit and stare at the high stool for a long time. There were some marks
+on the long legs which made him feel quite dejected and melancholy. They
+were marks made by the heels of the next Earl of Dorincourt, when he
+kicked and talked at the same time. It seems that even youthful earls
+kick the legs of things they sit on;--noble blood and lofty lineage do
+not prevent it. After looking at those marks, Mr. Hobbs would take
+out his gold watch and open it and stare at the inscription: “From
+his oldest friend, Lord Fauntleroy, to Mr. Hobbs. When this you see,
+remember me.” And after staring at it awhile, he would shut it up with a
+loud snap, and sigh and get up and go and stand in the door-way--between
+the box of potatoes and the barrel of apples--and look up the street.
+At night, when the store was closed, he would light his pipe and walk
+slowly along the pavement until he reached the house where Cedric had
+lived, on which there was a sign that read, “This House to Let”; and he
+would stop near it and look up and shake his head, and puff at his pipe
+very hard, and after a while walk mournfully back again.
+
+This went on for two or three weeks before any new idea came to him.
+Being slow and ponderous, it always took him a long time to reach a
+new idea. As a rule, he did not like new ideas, but preferred old ones.
+After two or three weeks, however, during which, instead of getting
+better, matters really grew worse, a novel plan slowly and deliberately
+dawned upon him. He would go to see Dick. He smoked a great many pipes
+before he arrived at the conclusion, but finally he did arrive at it. He
+would go to see Dick. He knew all about Dick. Cedric had told him, and
+his idea was that perhaps Dick might be some comfort to him in the way
+of talking things over.
+
+So one day when Dick was very hard at work blacking a customer's boots,
+a short, stout man with a heavy face and a bald head stopped on the
+pavement and stared for two or three minutes at the bootblack's sign,
+which read:
+
+“PROFESSOR DICK TIPTON CAN'T BE BEAT.”
+
+
+He stared at it so long that Dick began to take a lively interest in
+him, and when he had put the finishing touch to his customer's boots, he
+said:
+
+“Want a shine, sir?”
+
+The stout man came forward deliberately and put his foot on the rest.
+
+“Yes,” he said.
+
+Then when Dick fell to work, the stout man looked from Dick to the sign
+and from the sign to Dick.
+
+“Where did you get that?” he asked.
+
+“From a friend o' mine,” said Dick,--“a little feller. He guv' me the
+whole outfit. He was the best little feller ye ever saw. He's in England
+now. Gone to be one o' them lords.”
+
+“Lord--Lord--” asked Mr. Hobbs, with ponderous slowness, “Lord
+Fauntleroy--Goin' to be Earl of Dorincourt?”
+
+Dick almost dropped his brush.
+
+“Why, boss!” he exclaimed, “d' ye know him yerself?”
+
+“I've known him,” answered Mr. Hobbs, wiping his warm forehead, “ever
+since he was born. We was lifetime acquaintances--that's what WE was.”
+
+It really made him feel quite agitated to speak of it. He pulled the
+splendid gold watch out of his pocket and opened it, and showed the
+inside of the case to Dick.
+
+“'When this you see, remember me,'” he read. “That was his parting
+keepsake to me. 'I don't want you to forget me'--those was his words--I'd
+ha' remembered him,” he went on, shaking his head, “if he hadn't given
+me a thing an' I hadn't seen hide nor hair on him again. He was a
+companion as ANY man would remember.”
+
+“He was the nicest little feller I ever see,” said Dick. “An' as to
+sand--I never seen so much sand to a little feller. I thought a heap
+o' him, I did,--an' we was friends, too--we was sort o' chums from the
+fust, that little young un an' me. I grabbed his ball from under a stage
+fur him, an' he never forgot it; an' he'd come down here, he would,
+with his mother or his nuss and he'd holler: 'Hello, Dick!' at me,
+as friendly as if he was six feet high, when he warn't knee high to a
+grasshopper, and was dressed in gal's clo'es. He was a gay little chap,
+and when you was down on your luck, it did you good to talk to him.”
+
+“That's so,” said Mr. Hobbs. “It was a pity to make a earl out of HIM.
+He would have SHONE in the grocery business--or dry goods either; he
+would have SHONE!” And he shook his head with deeper regret than ever.
+
+It proved that they had so much to say to each other that it was not
+possible to say it all at one time, and so it was agreed that the next
+night Dick should make a visit to the store and keep Mr. Hobbs company.
+The plan pleased Dick well enough. He had been a street waif nearly
+all his life, but he had never been a bad boy, and he had always had a
+private yearning for a more respectable kind of existence. Since he had
+been in business for himself, he had made enough money to enable him to
+sleep under a roof instead of out in the streets, and he had begun to
+hope he might reach even a higher plane, in time. So, to be invited to
+call on a stout, respectable man who owned a corner store, and even had
+a horse and wagon, seemed to him quite an event.
+
+“Do you know anything about earls and castles?” Mr. Hobbs inquired. “I'd
+like to know more of the particklars.”
+
+“There's a story about some on 'em in the Penny Story Gazette,” said
+Dick. “It's called the 'Crime of a Coronet; or, The Revenge of the
+Countess May.' It's a boss thing, too. Some of us boys 're takin' it to
+read.”
+
+“Bring it up when you come,” said Mr. Hobbs, “an' I'll pay for it. Bring
+all you can find that have any earls in 'em. If there aren't earls,
+markises'll do, or dooks--though HE never made mention of any dooks or
+markises. We did go over coronets a little, but I never happened to see
+any. I guess they don't keep 'em 'round here.”
+
+“Tiffany 'd have 'em if anybody did,” said Dick, “but I don't know as
+I'd know one if I saw it.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs did not explain that he would not have known one if he saw it.
+He merely shook his head ponderously.
+
+“I s'pose there is very little call for 'em,” he said, and that ended
+the matter.
+
+This was the beginning of quite a substantial friendship. When Dick went
+up to the store, Mr. Hobbs received him with great hospitality. He gave
+him a chair tilted against the door, near a barrel of apples, and after
+his young visitor was seated, he made a jerk at them with the hand in
+which he held his pipe, saying:
+
+“Help yerself.”
+
+Then he looked at the story papers, and after that they read and
+discussed the British aristocracy; and Mr. Hobbs smoked his pipe very
+hard and shook his head a great deal. He shook it most when he pointed
+out the high stool with the marks on its legs.
+
+“There's his very kicks,” he said impressively; “his very kicks. I sit
+and look at 'em by the hour. This is a world of ups an' it's a world of
+downs. Why, he'd set there, an' eat crackers out of a box, an' apples
+out of a barrel, an' pitch his cores into the street; an' now he's a
+lord a-livin' in a castle. Them's a lord's kicks; they'll be a earl's
+kicks some day. Sometimes I says to myself, says I, 'Well, I'll be
+jiggered!'”
+
+He seemed to derive a great deal of comfort from his reflections and
+Dick's visit. Before Dick went home, they had a supper in the small
+back-room; they had crackers and cheese and sardines, and other canned
+things out of the store, and Mr. Hobbs solemnly opened two bottles of
+ginger ale, and pouring out two glasses, proposed a toast.
+
+“Here's to HIM!” he said, lifting his glass, “an' may he teach 'em a
+lesson--earls an' markises an' dooks an' all!”
+
+After that night, the two saw each other often, and Mr. Hobbs was much
+more comfortable and less desolate. They read the Penny Story Gazette,
+and many other interesting things, and gained a knowledge of the habits
+of the nobility and gentry which would have surprised those despised
+classes if they had realized it. One day Mr. Hobbs made a pilgrimage
+to a book store down town, for the express purpose of adding to their
+library. He went to the clerk and leaned over the counter to speak to
+him.
+
+“I want,” he said, “a book about earls.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed the clerk.
+
+“A book,” repeated the grocery-man, “about earls.”
+
+“I'm afraid,” said the clerk, looking rather queer, “that we haven't
+what you want.”
+
+“Haven't?” said Mr. Hobbs, anxiously. “Well, say markises then--or
+dooks.”
+
+“I know of no such book,” answered the clerk.
+
+Mr. Hobbs was much disturbed. He looked down on the floor,--then he
+looked up.
+
+“None about female earls?” he inquired.
+
+“I'm afraid not,” said the clerk with a smile.
+
+“Well,” exclaimed Mr. Hobbs, “I'll be jiggered!”
+
+He was just going out of the store, when the clerk called him back and
+asked him if a story in which the nobility were chief characters would
+do. Mr. Hobbs said it would--if he could not get an entire volume
+devoted to earls. So the clerk sold him a book called “The Tower of
+London,” written by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and he carried it home.
+
+When Dick came they began to read it. It was a very wonderful and
+exciting book, and the scene was laid in the reign of the famous English
+queen who is called by some people Bloody Mary. And as Mr. Hobbs heard
+of Queen Mary's deeds and the habit she had of chopping people's heads
+off, putting them to the torture, and burning them alive, he became very
+much excited. He took his pipe out of his mouth and stared at Dick, and
+at last he was obliged to mop the perspiration from his brow with his
+red pocket handkerchief.
+
+“Why, he aint safe!” he said. “He aint safe! If the women folks can
+sit up on their thrones an' give the word for things like that to be
+done, who's to know what's happening to him this very minute? He's no
+more safe than nothing! Just let a woman like that get mad, an' no one's
+safe!”
+
+“Well,” said Dick, though he looked rather anxious himself; “ye see
+this 'ere un isn't the one that's bossin' things now. I know her name's
+Victory, an' this un here in the book, her name's Mary.”
+
+“So it is,” said Mr. Hobbs, still mopping his forehead; “so it is. An'
+the newspapers are not sayin' anything about any racks, thumb-screws,
+or stake-burnin's,--but still it doesn't seem as if 't was safe for him
+over there with those queer folks. Why, they tell me they don't keep the
+Fourth o' July!”
+
+He was privately uneasy for several days; and it was not until he
+received Fauntleroy's letter and had read it several times, both to
+himself and to Dick, and had also read the letter Dick got about the
+same time, that he became composed again.
+
+But they both found great pleasure in their letters. They read and
+re-read them, and talked them over and enjoyed every word of them. And
+they spent days over the answers they sent and read them over almost as
+often as the letters they had received.
+
+It was rather a labor for Dick to write his. All his knowledge of
+reading and writing he had gained during a few months, when he had lived
+with his elder brother, and had gone to a night-school; but, being a
+sharp boy, he had made the most of that brief education, and had spelled
+out things in newspapers since then, and practiced writing with bits of
+chalk on pavements or walls or fences. He told Mr. Hobbs all about his
+life and about his elder brother, who had been rather good to him after
+their mother died, when Dick was quite a little fellow. Their father had
+died some time before. The brother's name was Ben, and he had taken
+care of Dick as well as he could, until the boy was old enough to sell
+newspapers and run errands. They had lived together, and as he grew
+older Ben had managed to get along until he had quite a decent place in
+a store.
+
+“And then,” exclaimed Dick with disgust, “blest if he didn't go an'
+marry a gal! Just went and got spoony an' hadn't any more sense left!
+Married her, an' set up housekeepin' in two back rooms. An' a hefty un
+she was,--a regular tiger-cat. She'd tear things to pieces when she got
+mad,--and she was mad ALL the time. Had a baby just like her,--yell day
+'n' night! An' if I didn't have to 'tend it! an' when it screamed, she'd
+fire things at me. She fired a plate at me one day, an' hit the baby--
+cut its chin. Doctor said he'd carry the mark till he died. A nice
+mother she was! Crackey! but didn't we have a time--Ben 'n' mehself 'n'
+the young un. She was mad at Ben because he didn't make money faster;
+'n' at last he went out West with a man to set up a cattle ranch. An'
+hadn't been gone a week 'fore one night, I got home from sellin' my
+papers, 'n' the rooms wus locked up 'n' empty, 'n' the woman o' the
+house, she told me Minna 'd gone--shown a clean pair o' heels. Some un
+else said she'd gone across the water to be nuss to a lady as had a
+little baby, too. Never heard a word of her since--nuther has Ben. If
+I'd ha' bin him, I wouldn't ha' fretted a bit--'n' I guess he didn't.
+But he thought a heap o' her at the start. Tell you, he was spoons on
+her. She was a daisy-lookin' gal, too, when she was dressed up 'n' not
+mad. She'd big black eyes 'n' black hair down to her knees; she'd make
+it into a rope as big as your arm, and twist it 'round 'n' 'round her
+head; 'n' I tell you her eyes 'd snap! Folks used to say she was part
+_I_tali-un--said her mother or father 'd come from there, 'n' it made
+her queer. I tell ye, she was one of 'em--she was!”
+
+He often told Mr. Hobbs stories of her and of his brother Ben, who,
+since his going out West, had written once or twice to Dick.
+
+Ben's luck had not been good, and he had wandered from place to place;
+but at last he had settled on a ranch in California, where he was at
+work at the time when Dick became acquainted with Mr. Hobbs.
+
+“That gal,” said Dick one day, “she took all the grit out o' him. I
+couldn't help feelin' sorry for him sometimes.”
+
+They were sitting in the store door-way together, and Mr. Hobbs was
+filling his pipe.
+
+“He oughtn't to 've married,” he said solemnly, as he rose to get a
+match. “Women--I never could see any use in 'em myself.”
+
+As he took the match from its box, he stopped and looked down on the
+counter.
+
+“Why!” he said, “if here isn't a letter! I didn't see it before. The
+postman must have laid it down when I wasn't noticin', or the newspaper
+slipped over it.”
+
+He picked it up and looked at it carefully.
+
+“It's from HIM!” he exclaimed. “That's the very one it's from!”
+
+He forgot his pipe altogether. He went back to his chair quite excited
+and took his pocket-knife and opened the envelope.
+
+“I wonder what news there is this time,” he said.
+
+And then he unfolded the letter and read as follows:
+
+“DORINCOURT CASTLE” My dear Mr. Hobbs
+
+“I write this in a great hury becaus i have something curous to tell you
+i know you will be very mutch suprised my dear frend when i tel you. It
+is all a mistake and i am not a lord and i shall not have to be an earl
+there is a lady whitch was marid to my uncle bevis who is dead and she
+has a little boy and he is lord fauntleroy becaus that is the way it is
+in England the earls eldest sons little boy is the earl if every
+body else is dead i mean if his farther and grandfarther are dead my
+grandfarther is not dead but my uncle bevis is and so his boy is lord
+Fauntleroy and i am not becaus my papa was the youngest son and my name
+is Cedric Errol like it was when i was in New York and all the things
+will belong to the other boy i thought at first i should have to give
+him my pony and cart but my grandfarther says i need not my grandfarther
+is very sorry and i think he does not like the lady but preaps he thinks
+dearest and i are sorry because i shall not be an earl i would like to
+be an earl now better than i thout i would at first becaus this is a
+beautifle castle and i like every body so and when you are rich you can
+do so many things i am not rich now becaus when your papa is only the
+youngest son he is not very rich i am going to learn to work so that
+i can take care of dearest i have been asking Wilkins about grooming
+horses preaps i might be a groom or a coachman. The lady brought her
+little boy to the castle and my grandfarther and Mr. Havisham talked to
+her i think she was angry she talked loud and my grandfarther was angry
+too i never saw him angry before i wish it did not make them all mad i
+thort i would tell you and Dick right away becaus you would be intrusted
+so no more at present with love from
+
+“your old frend
+
+“CEDRIC ERROL (Not lord Fauntleroy).”
+
+
+Mr. Hobbs fell back in his chair, the letter dropped on his knee, his
+pen-knife slipped to the floor, and so did the envelope.
+
+“Well!” he ejaculated, “I am jiggered!”
+
+He was so dumfounded that he actually changed his exclamation. It had
+always been his habit to say, “I WILL be jiggered,” but this time he
+said, “I AM jiggered.” Perhaps he really WAS jiggered. There is no
+knowing.
+
+“Well,” said Dick, “the whole thing's bust up, hasn't it?”
+
+“Bust!” said Mr. Hobbs. “It's my opinion it's a put-up job o' the
+British ristycrats to rob him of his rights because he's an American.
+They've had a spite agin us ever since the Revolution, an' they're
+takin' it out on him. I told you he wasn't safe, an' see what's
+happened! Like as not, the whole gover'ment's got together to rob him of
+his lawful ownin's.”
+
+He was very much agitated. He had not approved of the change in his
+young friend's circumstances at first, but lately he had become more
+reconciled to it, and after the receipt of Cedric's letter he had
+perhaps even felt some secret pride in his young friend's magnificence.
+He might not have a good opinion of earls, but he knew that even in
+America money was considered rather an agreeable thing, and if all the
+wealth and grandeur were to go with the title, it must be rather hard to
+lose it.
+
+“They're trying to rob him!” he said, “that's what they're doing, and
+folks that have money ought to look after him.”
+
+And he kept Dick with him until quite a late hour to talk it over, and
+when that young man left, he went with him to the corner of the street;
+and on his way back he stopped opposite the empty house for some time,
+staring at the “To Let,” and smoking his pipe, in much disturbance of
+mind.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+A very few days after the dinner party at the Castle, almost everybody
+in England who read the newspapers at all knew the romantic story of
+what had happened at Dorincourt. It made a very interesting story when
+it was told with all the details. There was the little American boy who
+had been brought to England to be Lord Fauntleroy, and who was said to
+be so fine and handsome a little fellow, and to have already made people
+fond of him; there was the old Earl, his grandfather, who was so proud
+of his heir; there was the pretty young mother who had never been
+forgiven for marrying Captain Errol; and there was the strange marriage
+of Bevis, the dead Lord Fauntleroy, and the strange wife, of whom no one
+knew anything, suddenly appearing with her son, and saying that he was
+the real Lord Fauntleroy and must have his rights. All these things were
+talked about and written about, and caused a tremendous sensation. And
+then there came the rumor that the Earl of Dorincourt was not satisfied
+with the turn affairs had taken, and would perhaps contest the claim by
+law, and the matter might end with a wonderful trial.
+
+There never had been such excitement before in the county in which
+Erleboro was situated. On market-days, people stood in groups and talked
+and wondered what would be done; the farmers' wives invited one another
+to tea that they might tell one another all they had heard and all
+they thought and all they thought other people thought. They related
+wonderful anecdotes about the Earl's rage and his determination not to
+acknowledge the new Lord Fauntleroy, and his hatred of the woman who was
+the claimant's mother. But, of course, it was Mrs. Dibble who could tell
+the most, and who was more in demand than ever.
+
+“An' a bad lookout it is,” she said. “An' if you were to ask me, ma'am,
+I should say as it was a judgment on him for the way he's treated that
+sweet young cre'tur' as he parted from her child,--for he's got that
+fond of him an' that set on him an' that proud of him as he's a'most
+drove mad by what's happened. An' what's more, this new one's no lady,
+as his little lordship's ma is. She's a bold-faced, black-eyed thing,
+as Mr. Thomas says no gentleman in livery 'u'd bemean hisself to be gave
+orders by; and let her come into the house, he says, an' he goes out of
+it. An' the boy don't no more compare with the other one than nothin'
+you could mention. An' mercy knows what's goin' to come of it all, an'
+where it's to end, an' you might have knocked me down with a feather
+when Jane brought the news.”
+
+In fact there was excitement everywhere at the Castle: in the library,
+where the Earl and Mr. Havisham sat and talked; in the servants' hall,
+where Mr. Thomas and the butler and the other men and women servants
+gossiped and exclaimed at all times of the day; and in the stables,
+where Wilkins went about his work in a quite depressed state of
+mind, and groomed the brown pony more beautifully than ever, and said
+mournfully to the coachman that he “never taught a young gen'leman to
+ride as took to it more nat'ral, or was a better-plucked one than he
+was. He was a one as it were some pleasure to ride behind.”
+
+But in the midst of all the disturbance there was one person who was
+quite calm and untroubled. That person was the little Lord Fauntleroy
+who was said not to be Lord Fauntleroy at all. When first the state of
+affairs had been explained to him, he had felt some little anxiousness
+and perplexity, it is true, but its foundation was not in baffled
+ambition.
+
+While the Earl told him what had happened, he had sat on a stool holding
+on to his knee, as he so often did when he was listening to anything
+interesting; and by the time the story was finished he looked quite
+sober.
+
+“It makes me feel very queer,” he said; “it makes me feel--queer!”
+
+The Earl looked at the boy in silence. It made him feel queer,
+too--queerer than he had ever felt in his whole life. And he felt more
+queer still when he saw that there was a troubled expression on the
+small face which was usually so happy.
+
+“Will they take Dearest's house from her--and her carriage?” Cedric
+asked in a rather unsteady, anxious little voice.
+
+“NO!” said the Earl decidedly--in quite a loud voice, in fact. “They can
+take nothing from her.”
+
+“Ah!” said Cedric, with evident relief. “Can't they?”
+
+Then he looked up at his grandfather, and there was a wistful shade in
+his eyes, and they looked very big and soft.
+
+“That other boy,” he said rather tremulously--“he will have to--to be
+your boy now--as I was--won't he?”
+
+“NO!” answered the Earl--and he said it so fiercely and loudly that
+Cedric quite jumped.
+
+“No?” he exclaimed, in wonderment. “Won't he? I thought----”
+
+He stood up from his stool quite suddenly.
+
+“Shall I be your boy, even if I'm not going to be an earl?” he said.
+“Shall I be your boy, just as I was before?” And his flushed little face
+was all alight with eagerness.
+
+How the old Earl did look at him from head to foot, to be sure! How his
+great shaggy brows did draw themselves together, and how queerly his
+deep eyes shone under them--how very queerly!
+
+“My boy!” he said--and, if you'll believe it, his very voice was queer,
+almost shaky and a little broken and hoarse, not at all what you
+would expect an Earl's voice to be, though he spoke more decidedly and
+peremptorily even than before,--“Yes, you'll be my boy as long as I
+live; and, by George, sometimes I feel as if you were the only boy I had
+ever had.”
+
+Cedric's face turned red to the roots of his hair; it turned red with
+relief and pleasure. He put both his hands deep into his pockets and
+looked squarely into his noble relative's eyes.
+
+“Do you?” he said. “Well, then, I don't care about the earl part at all.
+I don't care whether I'm an earl or not. I thought--you see, I thought
+the one that was going to be the Earl would have to be your boy, too,
+and--and I couldn't be. That was what made me feel so queer.”
+
+The Earl put his hand on his shoulder and drew him nearer.
+
+“They shall take nothing from you that I can hold for you,” he said,
+drawing his breath hard. “I won't believe yet that they can take
+anything from you. You were made for the place, and--well, you may
+fill it still. But whatever comes, you shall have all that I can give
+you--all!”
+
+It scarcely seemed as if he were speaking to a child, there was such
+determination in his face and voice; it was more as if he were making a
+promise to himself--and perhaps he was.
+
+He had never before known how deep a hold upon him his fondness for the
+boy and his pride in him had taken. He had never seen his strength and
+good qualities and beauty as he seemed to see them now. To his obstinate
+nature it seemed impossible--more than impossible--to give up what he
+had so set his heart upon. And he had determined that he would not give
+it up without a fierce struggle.
+
+Within a few days after she had seen Mr. Havisham, the woman who claimed
+to be Lady Fauntleroy presented herself at the Castle, and brought her
+child with her. She was sent away. The Earl would not see her, she was
+told by the footman at the door; his lawyer would attend to her case.
+It was Thomas who gave the message, and who expressed his opinion of her
+freely afterward, in the servants' hall. He “hoped,” he said, “as he had
+wore livery in 'igh famblies long enough to know a lady when he see one,
+an' if that was a lady he was no judge o' females.”
+
+“The one at the Lodge,” added Thomas loftily, “'Merican or no 'Merican,
+she's one o' the right sort, as any gentleman 'u'd reckinize with all a
+heye. I remarked it myself to Henery when fust we called there.”
+
+The woman drove away; the look on her handsome, common face half
+frightened, half fierce. Mr. Havisham had noticed, during his interviews
+with her, that though she had a passionate temper, and a coarse,
+insolent manner, she was neither so clever nor so bold as she meant to
+be; she seemed sometimes to be almost overwhelmed by the position in
+which she had placed herself. It was as if she had not expected to meet
+with such opposition.
+
+“She is evidently,” the lawyer said to Mrs. Errol, “a person from the
+lower walks of life. She is uneducated and untrained in everything, and
+quite unused to meeting people like ourselves on any terms of equality.
+She does not know what to do. Her visit to the Castle quite cowed her.
+She was infuriated, but she was cowed. The Earl would not receive her,
+but I advised him to go with me to the Dorincourt Arms, where she is
+staying. When she saw him enter the room, she turned white, though she
+flew into a rage at once, and threatened and demanded in one breath.”
+
+The fact was that the Earl had stalked into the room and stood, looking
+like a venerable aristocratic giant, staring at the woman from under his
+beetling brows, and not condescending a word. He simply stared at her,
+taking her in from head to foot as if she were some repulsive curiosity.
+He let her talk and demand until she was tired, without himself uttering
+a word, and then he said:
+
+“You say you are my eldest son's wife. If that is true, and if the proof
+you offer is too much for us, the law is on your side. In that case,
+your boy is Lord Fauntleroy. The matter will be sifted to the bottom,
+you may rest assured. If your claims are proved, you will be provided
+for. I want to see nothing of either you or the child so long as I live.
+The place will unfortunately have enough of you after my death. You
+are exactly the kind of person I should have expected my son Bevis to
+choose.”
+
+And then he turned his back upon her and stalked out of the room as he
+had stalked into it.
+
+Not many days after that, a visitor was announced to Mrs. Errol, who was
+writing in her little morning room. The maid, who brought the message,
+looked rather excited; her eyes were quite round with amazement, in
+fact, and being young and inexperienced, she regarded her mistress with
+nervous sympathy.
+
+“It's the Earl hisself, ma'am!” she said in tremulous awe.
+
+When Mrs. Errol entered the drawing-room, a very tall, majestic-looking
+old man was standing on the tiger-skin rug. He had a handsome, grim old
+face, with an aquiline profile, a long white mustache, and an obstinate
+look.
+
+“Mrs. Errol, I believe?” he said.
+
+“Mrs. Errol,” she answered.
+
+“I am the Earl of Dorincourt,” he said.
+
+He paused a moment, almost unconsciously, to look into her uplifted
+eyes. They were so like the big, affectionate, childish eyes he had seen
+uplifted to his own so often every day during the last few months, that
+they gave him a quite curious sensation.
+
+“The boy is very like you,” he said abruptly.
+
+“It has been often said so, my lord,” she replied, “but I have been glad
+to think him like his father also.”
+
+As Lady Lorridaile had told him, her voice was very sweet, and her
+manner was very simple and dignified. She did not seem in the least
+troubled by his sudden coming.
+
+“Yes,” said the Earl, “he is like--my son--too.” He put his hand up to
+his big white mustache and pulled it fiercely. “Do you know,” he said,
+“why I have come here?”
+
+“I have seen Mr. Havisham,” Mrs. Errol began, “and he has told me of the
+claims which have been made----”
+
+“I have come to tell you,” said the Earl, “that they will be
+investigated and contested, if a contest can be made. I have come to
+tell you that the boy shall be defended with all the power of the law.
+His rights----”
+
+The soft voice interrupted him.
+
+“He must have nothing that is NOT his by right, even if the law can give
+it to him,” she said.
+
+“Unfortunately the law can not,” said the Earl. “If it could, it should.
+This outrageous woman and her child----”
+
+“Perhaps she cares for him as much as I care for Cedric, my lord,” said
+little Mrs. Errol. “And if she was your eldest son's wife, her son is
+Lord Fauntleroy, and mine is not.”
+
+She was no more afraid of him than Cedric had been, and she looked at
+him just as Cedric would have looked, and he, having been an old tyrant
+all his life, was privately pleased by it. People so seldom dared to
+differ from him that there was an entertaining novelty in it.
+
+“I suppose,” he said, scowling slightly, “that you would much prefer
+that he should not be the Earl of Dorincourt.”
+
+Her fair young face flushed.
+
+“It is a very magnificent thing to be the Earl of Dorincourt, my lord,”
+ she said. “I know that, but I care most that he should be what his
+father was--brave and just and true always.”
+
+“In striking contrast to what his grandfather was, eh?” said his
+lordship sardonically.
+
+“I have not had the pleasure of knowing his grandfather,” replied Mrs.
+Errol, “but I know my little boy believes----” She stopped short a
+moment, looking quietly into his face, and then she added, “I know that
+Cedric loves you.”
+
+“Would he have loved me,” said the Earl dryly, “if you had told him why
+I did not receive you at the Castle?”
+
+“No,” answered Mrs. Errol, “I think not. That was why I did not wish him
+to know.”
+
+“Well,” said my lord brusquely, “there are few women who would not have
+told him.”
+
+He suddenly began to walk up and down the room, pulling his great
+mustache more violently than ever.
+
+“Yes, he is fond of me,” he said, “and I am fond of him. I can't say I
+ever was fond of anything before. I am fond of him. He pleased me from
+the first. I am an old man, and was tired of my life. He has given me
+something to live for. I am proud of him. I was satisfied to think of
+his taking his place some day as the head of the family.”
+
+He came back and stood before Mrs. Errol.
+
+“I am miserable,” he said. “Miserable!”
+
+He looked as if he was. Even his pride could not keep his voice steady
+or his hands from shaking. For a moment it almost seemed as if his deep,
+fierce eyes had tears in them. “Perhaps it is because I am miserable
+that I have come to you,” he said, quite glaring down at her. “I used
+to hate you; I have been jealous of you. This wretched, disgraceful
+business has changed that. After seeing that repulsive woman who calls
+herself the wife of my son Bevis, I actually felt it would be a relief
+to look at you. I have been an obstinate old fool, and I suppose I have
+treated you badly. You are like the boy, and the boy is the first object
+in my life. I am miserable, and I came to you merely because you are
+like the boy, and he cares for you, and I care for him. Treat me as well
+as you can, for the boy's sake.”
+
+He said it all in his harsh voice, and almost roughly, but somehow he
+seemed so broken down for the time that Mrs. Errol was touched to the
+heart. She got up and moved an arm-chair a little forward.
+
+“I wish you would sit down,” she said in a soft, pretty, sympathetic
+way. “You have been so much troubled that you are very tired, and you
+need all your strength.”
+
+It was just as new to him to be spoken to and cared for in that gentle,
+simple way as it was to be contradicted. He was reminded of “the boy”
+ again, and he actually did as she asked him. Perhaps his disappointment
+and wretchedness were good discipline for him; if he had not been
+wretched he might have continued to hate her, but just at present he
+found her a little soothing. Almost anything would have seemed pleasant
+by contrast with Lady Fauntleroy; and this one had so sweet a face and
+voice, and a pretty dignity when she spoke or moved. Very soon, through
+the quiet magic of these influences, he began to feel less gloomy, and
+then he talked still more.
+
+“Whatever happens,” he said, “the boy shall be provided for. He shall be
+taken care of, now and in the future.”
+
+Before he went away, he glanced around the room.
+
+“Do you like the house?” he demanded.
+
+“Very much,” she answered.
+
+“This is a cheerful room,” he said. “May I come here again and talk this
+matter over?”
+
+“As often as you wish, my lord,” she replied.
+
+And then he went out to his carriage and drove away, Thomas and Henry
+almost stricken dumb upon the box at the turn affairs had taken.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+Of course, as soon as the story of Lord Fauntleroy and the difficulties
+of the Earl of Dorincourt were discussed in the English newspapers, they
+were discussed in the American newspapers. The story was too interesting
+to be passed over lightly, and it was talked of a great deal. There were
+so many versions of it that it would have been an edifying thing to buy
+all the papers and compare them. Mr. Hobbs read so much about it that he
+became quite bewildered. One paper described his young friend Cedric as
+an infant in arms,--another as a young man at Oxford, winning all the
+honors, and distinguishing himself by writing Greek poems; one said he
+was engaged to a young lady of great beauty, who was the daughter of a
+duke; another said he had just been married; the only thing, in fact,
+which was NOT said was that he was a little boy between seven and eight,
+with handsome legs and curly hair. One said he was no relation to
+the Earl of Dorincourt at all, but was a small impostor who had sold
+newspapers and slept in the streets of New York before his mother
+imposed upon the family lawyer, who came to America to look for the
+Earl's heir. Then came the descriptions of the new Lord Fauntleroy and
+his mother. Sometimes she was a gypsy, sometimes an actress, sometimes a
+beautiful Spaniard; but it was always agreed that the Earl of Dorincourt
+was her deadly enemy, and would not acknowledge her son as his heir
+if he could help it, and as there seemed to be some slight flaw in the
+papers she had produced, it was expected that there would be a long
+trial, which would be far more interesting than anything ever carried
+into court before. Mr. Hobbs used to read the papers until his head was
+in a whirl, and in the evening he and Dick would talk it all over. They
+found out what an important personage an Earl of Dorincourt was, and
+what a magnificent income he possessed, and how many estates he owned,
+and how stately and beautiful was the Castle in which he lived; and the
+more they learned, the more excited they became.
+
+“Seems like somethin' orter be done,” said Mr. Hobbs. “Things like them
+orter be held on to--earls or no earls.”
+
+But there really was nothing they could do but each write a letter to
+Cedric, containing assurances of their friendship and sympathy. They
+wrote those letters as soon as they could after receiving the news; and
+after having written them, they handed them over to each other to be
+read.
+
+This is what Mr. Hobbs read in Dick's letter:
+
+
+“DERE FREND: i got ure letter an Mr. Hobbs got his an we are sory u are
+down on ure luck an we say hold on as longs u kin an dont let no one git
+ahed of u. There is a lot of ole theves wil make al they kin of u ef u
+dont kepe ure i skined. But this is mosly to say that ive not forgot
+wot u did fur me an if there aint no better way cum over here an go in
+pardners with me. Biznes is fine an ile see no harm cums to u Enny
+big feler that trise to cum it over u wil hafter setle it fust with
+Perfessor Dick Tipton. So no more at present
+
+“DICK.”
+
+
+And this was what Dick read in Mr. Hobbs's letter:
+
+
+“DEAR SIR: Yrs received and wd say things looks bad. I believe its a put
+up job and them thats done it ought to be looked after sharp. And what
+I write to say is two things. Im going to look this thing up. Keep quiet
+and Ill see a lawyer and do all I can And if the worst happens and them
+earls is too many for us theres a partnership in the grocery business
+ready for you when yure old enough and a home and a friend in
+
+“Yrs truly,
+
+“SILAS HOBBS.”
+
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Hobbs, “he's pervided for between us, if he aint a
+earl.”
+
+“So he is,” said Dick. “I'd ha' stood by him. Blest if I didn't like
+that little feller fust-rate.”
+
+The very next morning, one of Dick's customers was rather surprised.
+He was a young lawyer just beginning practice--as poor as a very young
+lawyer can possibly be, but a bright, energetic young fellow, with sharp
+wit and a good temper. He had a shabby office near Dick's stand, and
+every morning Dick blacked his boots for him, and quite often they were
+not exactly water-tight, but he always had a friendly word or a joke for
+Dick.
+
+That particular morning, when he put his foot on the rest, he had an
+illustrated paper in his hand--an enterprising paper, with pictures in
+it of conspicuous people and things. He had just finished looking it
+over, and when the last boot was polished, he handed it over to the boy.
+
+“Here's a paper for you, Dick,” he said; “you can look it over when you
+drop in at Delmonico's for your breakfast. Picture of an English
+castle in it, and an English earl's daughter-in-law. Fine young woman,
+too,--lots of hair,--though she seems to be raising rather a row. You
+ought to become familiar with the nobility and gentry, Dick. Begin on
+the Right Honorable the Earl of Dorincourt and Lady Fauntleroy. Hello! I
+say, what's the matter?”
+
+The pictures he spoke of were on the front page, and Dick was staring at
+one of them with his eyes and mouth open, and his sharp face almost pale
+with excitement.
+
+“What's to pay, Dick?” said the young man. “What has paralyzed you?”
+
+Dick really did look as if something tremendous had happened. He pointed
+to the picture, under which was written:
+
+“Mother of Claimant (Lady Fauntleroy).”
+
+It was the picture of a handsome woman, with large eyes and heavy braids
+of black hair wound around her head.
+
+“Her!” said Dick. “My, I know her better 'n I know you!”
+
+The young man began to laugh.
+
+“Where did you meet her, Dick?” he said. “At Newport? Or when you ran
+over to Paris the last time?”
+
+Dick actually forgot to grin. He began to gather his brushes and things
+together, as if he had something to do which would put an end to his
+business for the present.
+
+“Never mind,” he said. “I know her! An I've struck work for this
+mornin'.”
+
+And in less than five minutes from that time he was tearing through the
+streets on his way to Mr. Hobbs and the corner store.
+
+Mr. Hobbs could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses when he
+looked across the counter and saw Dick rush in with the paper in his
+hand. The boy was out of breath with running; so much out of breath,
+in fact, that he could scarcely speak as he threw the paper down on the
+counter.
+
+“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Hobbs. “Hello! What you got there?”
+
+“Look at it!” panted Dick. “Look at that woman in the picture! That's
+what you look at! SHE aint no 'ristocrat, SHE aint!” with withering
+scorn. “She's no lord's wife. You may eat me, if it aint Minna--MINNA!
+I'd know her anywheres, an' so 'd Ben. Jest ax him.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs dropped into his seat.
+
+“I knowed it was a put-up job,” he said. “I knowed it; and they done it
+on account o' him bein' a 'Merican!”
+
+“Done it!” cried Dick, with disgust. “SHE done it, that's who done it.
+She was allers up to her tricks; an' I'll tell yer wot come to me,
+the minnit I saw her pictur. There was one o' them papers we saw had
+a letter in it that said somethin' 'bout her boy, an' it said he had a
+scar on his chin. Put them two together--her 'n' that there scar!
+Why, that there boy o' hers aint no more a lord than I am! It's BEN'S
+boy,--the little chap she hit when she let fly that plate at me.”
+
+Professor Dick Tipton had always been a sharp boy, and earning his
+living in the streets of a big city had made him still sharper. He had
+learned to keep his eyes open and his wits about him, and it must be
+confessed he enjoyed immensely the excitement and impatience of that
+moment. If little Lord Fauntleroy could only have looked into the store
+that morning, he would certainly have been interested, even if all the
+discussion and plans had been intended to decide the fate of some other
+boy than himself.
+
+Mr. Hobbs was almost overwhelmed by his sense of responsibility, and
+Dick was all alive and full of energy. He began to write a letter to
+Ben, and he cut out the picture and inclosed it to him, and Mr. Hobbs
+wrote a letter to Cedric and one to the Earl. They were in the midst of
+this letter-writing when a new idea came to Dick.
+
+“Say,” he said, “the feller that give me the paper, he's a lawyer. Let's
+ax him what we'd better do. Lawyers knows it all.”
+
+Mr. Hobbs was immensely impressed by this suggestion and Dick's business
+capacity.
+
+“That's so!” he replied. “This here calls for lawyers.”
+
+And leaving the store in the care of a substitute, he struggled into his
+coat and marched down-town with Dick, and the two presented themselves
+with their romantic story in Mr. Harrison's office, much to that young
+man's astonishment.
+
+If he had not been a very young lawyer, with a very enterprising mind
+and a great deal of spare time on his hands, he might not have been so
+readily interested in what they had to say, for it all certainly sounded
+very wild and queer; but he chanced to want something to do very much,
+and he chanced to know Dick, and Dick chanced to say his say in a very
+sharp, telling sort of way.
+
+“And,” said Mr. Hobbs, “say what your time's worth a' hour and look into
+this thing thorough, and I'LL pay the damage,--Silas Hobbs, corner of
+Blank street, Vegetables and Fancy Groceries.”
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Harrison, “it will be a big thing if it turns out
+all right, and it will be almost as big a thing for me as for Lord
+Fauntleroy; and, at any rate, no harm can be done by investigating.
+It appears there has been some dubiousness about the child. The woman
+contradicted herself in some of her statements about his age, and
+aroused suspicion. The first persons to be written to are Dick's brother
+and the Earl of Dorincourt's family lawyer.”
+
+And actually, before the sun went down, two letters had been written and
+sent in two different directions--one speeding out of New York harbor on
+a mail steamer on its way to England, and the other on a train carrying
+letters and passengers bound for California. And the first was addressed
+to T. Havisham, Esq., and the second to Benjamin Tipton.
+
+And after the store was closed that evening, Mr. Hobbs and Dick sat in
+the back-room and talked together until midnight.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+It is astonishing how short a time it takes for very wonderful things to
+happen. It had taken only a few minutes, apparently, to change all the
+fortunes of the little boy dangling his red legs from the high stool
+in Mr. Hobbs's store, and to transform him from a small boy, living the
+simplest life in a quiet street, into an English nobleman, the heir
+to an earldom and magnificent wealth. It had taken only a few minutes,
+apparently, to change him from an English nobleman into a penniless
+little impostor, with no right to any of the splendors he had been
+enjoying. And, surprising as it may appear, it did not take nearly so
+long a time as one might have expected, to alter the face of everything
+again and to give back to him all that he had been in danger of losing.
+
+It took the less time because, after all, the woman who had called
+herself Lady Fauntleroy was not nearly so clever as she was wicked; and
+when she had been closely pressed by Mr. Havisham's questions about her
+marriage and her boy, she had made one or two blunders which had caused
+suspicion to be awakened; and then she had lost her presence of mind and
+her temper, and in her excitement and anger had betrayed herself still
+further. All the mistakes she made were about her child. There seemed
+no doubt that she had been married to Bevis, Lord Fauntleroy, and had
+quarreled with him and had been paid to keep away from him; but Mr.
+Havisham found out that her story of the boy's being born in a certain
+part of London was false; and just when they all were in the midst of
+the commotion caused by this discovery, there came the letter from the
+young lawyer in New York, and Mr. Hobbs's letters also.
+
+What an evening it was when those letters arrived, and when Mr. Havisham
+and the Earl sat and talked their plans over in the library!
+
+“After my first three meetings with her,” said Mr. Havisham, “I began
+to suspect her strongly. It appeared to me that the child was older
+than she said he was, and she made a slip in speaking of the date of
+his birth and then tried to patch the matter up. The story these letters
+bring fits in with several of my suspicions. Our best plan will be
+to cable at once for these two Tiptons,--say nothing about them to
+her,--and suddenly confront her with them when she is not expecting it.
+She is only a very clumsy plotter, after all. My opinion is that she
+will be frightened out of her wits, and will betray herself on the
+spot.”
+
+And that was what actually happened. She was told nothing, and Mr.
+Havisham kept her from suspecting anything by continuing to have
+interviews with her, in which he assured her he was investigating her
+statements; and she really began to feel so secure that her spirits rose
+immensely and she began to be as insolent as might have been expected.
+
+But one fine morning, as she sat in her sitting-room at the inn called
+“The Dorincourt Arms,” making some very fine plans for herself, Mr.
+Havisham was announced; and when he entered, he was followed by no less
+than three persons--one was a sharp-faced boy and one was a big young
+man and the third was the Earl of Dorincourt.
+
+She sprang to her feet and actually uttered a cry of terror. It broke
+from her before she had time to check it. She had thought of these
+new-comers as being thousands of miles away, when she had ever thought
+of them at all, which she had scarcely done for years. She had never
+expected to see them again. It must be confessed that Dick grinned a
+little when he saw her.
+
+“Hello, Minna!” he said.
+
+The big young man--who was Ben--stood still a minute and looked at her.
+
+“Do you know her?” Mr. Havisham asked, glancing from one to the other.
+
+“Yes,” said Ben. “I know her and she knows me.” And he turned his back
+on her and went and stood looking out of the window, as if the sight of
+her was hateful to him, as indeed it was. Then the woman, seeing herself
+so baffled and exposed, lost all control over herself and flew into
+such a rage as Ben and Dick had often seen her in before. Dick grinned
+a trifle more as he watched her and heard the names she called them all
+and the violent threats she made, but Ben did not turn to look at her.
+
+“I can swear to her in any court,” he said to Mr. Havisham, “and I can
+bring a dozen others who will. Her father is a respectable sort of man,
+though he's low down in the world. Her mother was just like herself.
+She's dead, but he's alive, and he's honest enough to be ashamed of her.
+He'll tell you who she is, and whether she married me or not.”
+
+Then he clenched his hand suddenly and turned on her.
+
+“Where's the child?” he demanded. “He's going with me! He is done with
+you, and so am I!”
+
+And just as he finished saying the words, the door leading into the
+bedroom opened a little, and the boy, probably attracted by the sound of
+the loud voices, looked in. He was not a handsome boy, but he had rather
+a nice face, and he was quite like Ben, his father, as any one could
+see, and there was the three-cornered scar on his chin.
+
+Ben walked up to him and took his hand, and his own was trembling.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “I could swear to him, too. Tom,” he said to the little
+fellow, “I'm your father; I've come to take you away. Where's your hat?”
+
+The boy pointed to where it lay on a chair. It evidently rather pleased
+him to hear that he was going away. He had been so accustomed to queer
+experiences that it did not surprise him to be told by a stranger that
+he was his father. He objected so much to the woman who had come a few
+months before to the place where he had lived since his babyhood, and
+who had suddenly announced that she was his mother, that he was quite
+ready for a change. Ben took up the hat and marched to the door.
+
+“If you want me again,” he said to Mr. Havisham, “you know where to find
+me.”
+
+He walked out of the room, holding the child's hand and not looking at
+the woman once. She was fairly raving with fury, and the Earl was calmly
+gazing at her through his eyeglasses, which he had quietly placed upon
+his aristocratic, eagle nose.
+
+“Come, come, my young woman,” said Mr. Havisham. “This won't do at all.
+If you don't want to be locked up, you really must behave yourself.”
+
+And there was something so very business-like in his tones that,
+probably feeling that the safest thing she could do would be to get out
+of the way, she gave him one savage look and dashed past him into the
+next room and slammed the door.
+
+“We shall have no more trouble with her,” said Mr. Havisham.
+
+And he was right; for that very night she left the Dorincourt Arms and
+took the train to London, and was seen no more.
+
+
+When the Earl left the room after the interview, he went at once to his
+carriage.
+
+“To Court Lodge,” he said to Thomas.
+
+“To Court Lodge,” said Thomas to the coachman as he mounted the box;
+“an' you may depend on it, things are taking a uniggspected turn.”
+
+When the carriage stopped at Court Lodge, Cedric was in the drawing-room
+with his mother.
+
+The Earl came in without being announced. He looked an inch or so
+taller, and a great many years younger. His deep eyes flashed.
+
+“Where,” he said, “is Lord Fauntleroy?”
+
+Mrs. Errol came forward, a flush rising to her cheek.
+
+“Is it Lord Fauntleroy?” she asked. “Is it, indeed!”
+
+The Earl put out his hand and grasped hers.
+
+“Yes,” he answered, “it is.”
+
+Then he put his other hand on Cedric's shoulder.
+
+“Fauntleroy,” he said in his unceremonious, authoritative way, “ask your
+mother when she will come to us at the Castle.”
+
+Fauntleroy flung his arms around his mother's neck.
+
+“To live with us!” he cried. “To live with us always!”
+
+The Earl looked at Mrs. Errol, and Mrs. Errol looked at the Earl.
+
+His lordship was entirely in earnest. He had made up his mind to waste
+no time in arranging this matter. He had begun to think it would suit
+him to make friends with his heir's mother.
+
+“Are you quite sure you want me?” said Mrs. Errol, with her soft, pretty
+smile.
+
+“Quite sure,” he said bluntly. “We have always wanted you, but we were
+not exactly aware of it. We hope you will come.”
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+Ben took his boy and went back to his cattle ranch in California, and
+he returned under very comfortable circumstances. Just before his going,
+Mr. Havisham had an interview with him in which the lawyer told him that
+the Earl of Dorincourt wished to do something for the boy who might have
+turned out to be Lord Fauntleroy, and so he had decided that it would
+be a good plan to invest in a cattle ranch of his own, and put Ben in
+charge of it on terms which would make it pay him very well, and which
+would lay a foundation for his son's future. And so when Ben went away,
+he went as the prospective master of a ranch which would be almost as
+good as his own, and might easily become his own in time, as indeed it
+did in the course of a few years; and Tom, the boy, grew up on it into
+a fine young man and was devotedly fond of his father; and they were so
+successful and happy that Ben used to say that Tom made up to him for
+all the troubles he had ever had.
+
+But Dick and Mr. Hobbs--who had actually come over with the others to
+see that things were properly looked after--did not return for some
+time. It had been decided at the outset that the Earl would provide for
+Dick, and would see that he received a solid education; and Mr. Hobbs
+had decided that as he himself had left a reliable substitute in charge
+of his store, he could afford to wait to see the festivities which were
+to celebrate Lord Fauntleroy's eighth birthday. All the tenantry were
+invited, and there were to be feasting and dancing and games in the
+park, and bonfires and fire-works in the evening.
+
+“Just like the Fourth of July!” said Lord Fauntleroy. “It seems a pity
+my birthday wasn't on the Fourth, doesn't it? For then we could keep
+them both together.”
+
+It must be confessed that at first the Earl and Mr. Hobbs were not as
+intimate as it might have been hoped they would become, in the interests
+of the British aristocracy. The fact was that the Earl had known very
+few grocery-men, and Mr. Hobbs had not had many very close acquaintances
+who were earls; and so in their rare interviews conversation did
+not flourish. It must also be owned that Mr. Hobbs had been rather
+overwhelmed by the splendors Fauntleroy felt it his duty to show him.
+
+The entrance gate and the stone lions and the avenue impressed Mr.
+Hobbs somewhat at the beginning, and when he saw the Castle, and the
+flower-gardens, and the hot-houses, and the terraces, and the peacocks,
+and the dungeon, and the armor, and the great staircase, and the
+stables, and the liveried servants, he really was quite bewildered. But
+it was the picture gallery which seemed to be the finishing stroke.
+
+“Somethin' in the manner of a museum?” he said to Fauntleroy, when he
+was led into the great, beautiful room.
+
+“N--no--!” said Fauntleroy, rather doubtfully. “I don't THINK it's a
+museum. My grandfather says these are my ancestors.”
+
+“Your aunt's sisters!” ejaculated Mr. Hobbs. “ALL of 'em? Your
+great-uncle, he MUST have had a family! Did he raise 'em all?”
+
+And he sank into a seat and looked around him with quite an agitated
+countenance, until with the greatest difficulty Lord Fauntleroy managed
+to explain that the walls were not lined entirely with the portraits of
+the progeny of his great-uncle.
+
+He found it necessary, in fact, to call in the assistance of Mrs.
+Mellon, who knew all about the pictures, and could tell who painted them
+and when, and who added romantic stories of the lords and ladies who
+were the originals. When Mr. Hobbs once understood, and had heard some
+of these stories, he was very much fascinated and liked the picture
+gallery almost better than anything else; and he would often walk over
+from the village, where he staid at the Dorincourt Arms, and would spend
+half an hour or so wandering about the gallery, staring at the painted
+ladies and gentlemen, who also stared at him, and shaking his head
+nearly all the time.
+
+“And they was all earls!” he would say, “er pretty nigh it! An' HE'S
+goin' to be one of 'em, an' own it all!”
+
+Privately he was not nearly so much disgusted with earls and their mode
+of life as he had expected to be, and it is to be doubted whether his
+strictly republican principles were not shaken a little by a closer
+acquaintance with castles and ancestors and all the rest of it. At any
+rate, one day he uttered a very remarkable and unexpected sentiment:
+
+“I wouldn't have minded bein' one of 'em myself!” he said--which was
+really a great concession.
+
+What a grand day it was when little Lord Fauntleroy's birthday arrived,
+and how his young lordship enjoyed it! How beautiful the park looked,
+filled with the thronging people dressed in their gayest and best, and
+with the flags flying from the tents and the top of the Castle! Nobody
+had staid away who could possibly come, because everybody was really
+glad that little Lord Fauntleroy was to be little Lord Fauntleroy still,
+and some day was to be the master of everything. Every one wanted to
+have a look at him, and at his pretty, kind mother, who had made so many
+friends. And positively every one liked the Earl rather better, and felt
+more amiably toward him because the little boy loved and trusted him so,
+and because, also, he had now made friends with and behaved respectfully
+to his heir's mother. It was said that he was even beginning to be
+fond of her, too, and that between his young lordship and his young
+lordship's mother, the Earl might be changed in time into quite a
+well-behaved old nobleman, and everybody might be happier and better
+off.
+
+What scores and scores of people there were under the trees, and in
+the tents, and on the lawns! Farmers and farmers' wives in their Sunday
+suits and bonnets and shawls; girls and their sweethearts; children
+frolicking and chasing about; and old dames in red cloaks gossiping
+together. At the Castle, there were ladies and gentlemen who had come to
+see the fun, and to congratulate the Earl, and to meet Mrs. Errol.
+Lady Lorredaile and Sir Harry were there, and Sir Thomas Asshe and his
+daughters, and Mr. Havisham, of course, and then beautiful Miss Vivian
+Herbert, with the loveliest white gown and lace parasol, and a circle
+of gentlemen to take care of her--though she evidently liked Fauntleroy
+better than all of them put together. And when he saw her and ran to her
+and put his arm around her neck, she put her arms around him, too, and
+kissed him as warmly as if he had been her own favorite little brother,
+and she said:
+
+“Dear little Lord Fauntleroy! dear little boy! I am so glad! I am so
+glad!”
+
+And afterward she walked about the grounds with him, and let him show
+her everything. And when he took her to where Mr. Hobbs and Dick were,
+and said to her, “This is my old, old friend Mr. Hobbs, Miss Herbert,
+and this is my other old friend Dick. I told them how pretty you were,
+and I told them they should see you if you came to my birthday,”--she
+shook hands with them both, and stood and talked to them in her
+prettiest way, asking them about America and their voyage and their life
+since they had been in England; while Fauntleroy stood by, looking up at
+her with adoring eyes, and his cheeks quite flushed with delight because
+he saw that Mr. Hobbs and Dick liked her so much.
+
+“Well,” said Dick solemnly, afterward, “she's the daisiest gal I
+ever saw! She's--well, she's just a daisy, that's what she is, 'n' no
+mistake!”
+
+Everybody looked after her as she passed, and every one looked after
+little Lord Fauntleroy. And the sun shone and the flags fluttered and
+the games were played and the dances danced, and as the gayeties went
+on and the joyous afternoon passed, his little lordship was simply
+radiantly happy.
+
+The whole world seemed beautiful to him.
+
+There was some one else who was happy, too,--an old man, who, though he
+had been rich and noble all his life, had not often been very honestly
+happy. Perhaps, indeed, I shall tell you that I think it was because he
+was rather better than he had been that he was rather happier. He had
+not, indeed, suddenly become as good as Fauntleroy thought him; but, at
+least, he had begun to love something, and he had several times found
+a sort of pleasure in doing the kind things which the innocent, kind
+little heart of a child had suggested,--and that was a beginning. And
+every day he had been more pleased with his son's wife. It was true, as
+the people said, that he was beginning to like her too. He liked to
+hear her sweet voice and to see her sweet face; and as he sat in his
+arm-chair, he used to watch her and listen as she talked to her boy; and
+he heard loving, gentle words which were new to him, and he began to see
+why the little fellow who had lived in a New York side street and known
+grocery-men and made friends with boot-blacks, was still so well-bred
+and manly a little fellow that he made no one ashamed of him, even when
+fortune changed him into the heir to an English earldom, living in an
+English castle.
+
+It was really a very simple thing, after all,--it was only that he had
+lived near a kind and gentle heart, and had been taught to think kind
+thoughts always and to care for others. It is a very little thing,
+perhaps, but it is the best thing of all. He knew nothing of earls and
+castles; he was quite ignorant of all grand and splendid things; but he
+was always lovable because he was simple and loving. To be so is like
+being born a king.
+
+As the old Earl of Dorincourt looked at him that day, moving about the
+park among the people, talking to those he knew and making his ready
+little bow when any one greeted him, entertaining his friends Dick and
+Mr. Hobbs, or standing near his mother or Miss Herbert listening to
+their conversation, the old nobleman was very well satisfied with him.
+And he had never been better satisfied than he was when they went down
+to the biggest tent, where the more important tenants of the Dorincourt
+estate were sitting down to the grand collation of the day.
+
+They were drinking toasts; and, after they had drunk the health of the
+Earl, with much more enthusiasm than his name had ever been greeted with
+before, they proposed the health of “Little Lord Fauntleroy.” And if
+there had ever been any doubt at all as to whether his lordship was
+popular or not, it would have been settled that instant. Such a clamor of
+voices, and such a rattle of glasses and applause! They had begun to
+like him so much, those warm-hearted people, that they forgot to feel
+any restraint before the ladies and gentlemen from the castle, who
+had come to see them. They made quite a decent uproar, and one or two
+motherly women looked tenderly at the little fellow where he stood, with
+his mother on one side and the Earl on the other, and grew quite moist
+about the eyes, and said to one another:
+
+“God bless him, the pretty little dear!”
+
+Little Lord Fauntleroy was delighted. He stood and smiled, and made
+bows, and flushed rosy red with pleasure up to the roots of his bright
+hair.
+
+“Is it because they like me, Dearest?” he said to his mother. “Is it,
+Dearest? I'm so glad!”
+
+And then the Earl put his hand on the child's shoulder and said to him:
+
+“Fauntleroy, say to them that you thank them for their kindness.”
+
+Fauntleroy gave a glance up at him and then at his mother.
+
+“Must I?” he asked just a trifle shyly, and she smiled, and so did Miss
+Herbert, and they both nodded. And so he made a little step forward,
+and everybody looked at him--such a beautiful, innocent little fellow he
+was, too, with his brave, trustful face!--and he spoke as loudly as he
+could, his childish voice ringing out quite clear and strong.
+
+“I'm ever so much obliged to you!” he said, “and--I hope you'll enjoy my
+birthday--because I've enjoyed it so much--and--I'm very glad I'm going
+to be an earl; I didn't think at first I should like it, but now I
+do--and I love this place so, and I think it is beautiful--and--and--and
+when I am an earl, I am going to try to be as good as my grandfather.”
+
+And amid the shouts and clamor of applause, he stepped back with a
+little sigh of relief, and put his hand into the Earl's and stood close
+to him, smiling and leaning against his side.
+
+
+And that would be the very end of my story; but I must add one curious
+piece of information, which is that Mr. Hobbs became so fascinated
+with high life and was so reluctant to leave his young friend that he
+actually sold his corner store in New York, and settled in the English
+village of Erlesboro, where he opened a shop which was patronized by the
+Castle and consequently was a great success. And though he and the
+Earl never became very intimate, if you will believe me, that man Hobbs
+became in time more aristocratic than his lordship himself, and he read
+the Court news every morning, and followed all the doings of the House
+of Lords! And about ten years after, when Dick, who had finished his
+education and was going to visit his brother in California, asked the
+good grocer if he did not wish to return to America, he shook his head
+seriously.
+
+“Not to live there,” he said. “Not to live there; I want to be near HIM,
+an' sort o' look after him. It's a good enough country for them that's
+young an' stirrin'--but there's faults in it. There's not an auntsister
+among 'em--nor an earl!”
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 479 ***