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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 *** |