Citation
Little Lord Fauntleroy

Material Information

Title:
Little Lord Fauntleroy
Creator:
Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924 ( Author, Primary )
Birch, Reginald Bathurst, 1856-1943 ( Illustrator )
Wellington, T. H ( Engraver )
Charles Scribner's Sons ( Publisher )
J.J. Little & Co ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
Charles Scribner's Sons
Manufacturer:
J.J. Little & Co.
Publication Date:
Copyright Date:
1886
Language:
English
Physical Description:
xi, 209, [16] p. : ill. ; 22 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Grandfathers -- England -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Altruism -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Family -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Mother and child -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Inheritance and succession -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Wealth -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Grandparent and child -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
England -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1889 ( local )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1889 ( rbgenr )
Baldwin -- 1889 ( local )
Genre:
Family stories ( local )
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

Summary:
An American boy goes to live with his grandfather in England where he becomes heir to a title, estate, and fortune.
General Note:
Publisher's catalogue precedes and follows text.
General Note:
Illustrations engraved by T. H. Wellington after Birch.
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026612546 ( ALEPH )
ALG3275 ( NOTIS )
23846608 ( OCLC )

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Full Text




cae,

ag,




















Po



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY



MRS. BURNETT'S FAMOUS JUVENILES.

WO LITTLE
PILGRIM’S PROGRESS.

A Story oF THE City BEAUTIFUL.



SQUARE 8vo, $1.50.



‘““ The day we first read tt will stand ever
after among the red-letter days of life. It isa
story to be marked with a white stone, a strong;
sweet, true book, touching the high-water mark
of excellence,’—Mrs, MARGARET E, SANGSTER,



ee LORD FAUNTLEROY.

SQUARE 8vo, $2.00.



“In ‘LittleLord Fauntleroy’ we gain another
charming child to add to our gallery of fuventle
heroes and heroines; one. who teaches a great
lesson with such truth and sweetness that we
part with him with real regret when the episode
zs over.’—Loutsa M. Atcorr.

Coe AND THE OTHER.

CHILDREN Wuo Have Mabe Stories.



SQUARE 8vo, $1.50.



Four of these stories, sad, sweet and touched
with delicate humor, are about little Italian
watls who crept into the author's heart. Two of
the stories are af incidents in the lives of Mrs.
Burnet?’s own boys ; and the others, while varied
in subject, have the same magic charm of dis-
closing the beauty of child-life with a sympathy
and warmth of feeling the secret of which Mrs.
Burnett alone seents to possess,



DICCINO, AND OTHER
CHILD STORIES.



SQUARE 8vo, $1.50.



“The history of Piccine’s ‘two days’ is as
delicate as one of the anemones that spring in the
rock walls facing Piccino’s Mediterranean... .
The other stories in the book have the charm of
their predecessor in material and manner... .
A delightful volume,’'—Mrs. BurToN HARRISON.

So CREWE.



SQUARE 8vo, $1.00.



“ Ruerybody was in love with ‘Little Lord
Fauntleroy, and I think all the world and the
vest of mankind will be in love with ‘Sara
Crewe. The tale is so tender, so wise, so human,
that I wish every girl in America could read it,
Jor I think everyone would be made better by
zt,’—Louise CHANDLER Mouton.

[THEE SAINT ELIZABETH,

AND OTHER SToRIES..



SQUARE 8vo, $1.50.



“ The pretty tale has for its heroine a little
French girl brought upin an old chateau in Nor-
mandy by an aunt who ts a recluseand a devote,
A child of this type transplanted suddenly
to the realistic atmosphere of New York must
inevitably have much to suffer. The quaint
dittle figure blindly trying to guess the riddle af
duty under these unfamiliar conditions ts
pathetic, and Mrs. Burnett touches it in with
delicate strokes.’ —Susan Coo.ipGE,

Each Illustrated by REGINALD B. BIRCH.








































































































































“ARE YOU THE EARL?’ SAID CEDRIC, ‘1’M YOUR GRANDSON, I’M LORD FAUNTLEROY,’”



LITTLE [ORD FAUNTLEROY

BY

FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT











et

NEW-YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1895



Copyright, 1886, by
CARLES SCRIBNER’S Sons,

Press of J. J. Little & Co,
Astor Place, New York



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FROM DRAWINGS BY REGINALD B. BIRCH.

“Are you the Earl?” said Cedric; “I’m your grandson, I’m

' Lord Fauntleroy.”

Frontispiece.
Vignette. Title-page.
“So this is little Lord Fauntleroy.” Page
“«Mr. Hobbs,”’ said Cedric, ‘an Earl is silting on this box now!” . ce 15
The eee ee HE sy
“I used to think I might perhaps be a President, but I never thought
of being GU OU SAIGsCcd die 8 Ge fo 2 30
‘* I have to go to England andbeaLord.” . . . . . . | Se Ge el

Dick boards the steamer to bid good-bye to Lord Fauntleroy. SAS



x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.



Viti
Jerry narrates some of bis Adventures, . . « «© + « 6

The big cat was purring in drowsy content ; she liked the caressing

touch of the hind littlehand. . . . « + « « « «

The gates were opened by a woman and two chiléren who came out

of @ pretly tuy-covered lodge. . . . »« « « »« « «

** Just lean on me,” said little Lord Fauntleroy. I’ll walk very

slowly.”
Lord Fauntleroy writes a letter. . 2. . 6 2 0 oo

Here lyeth ‘ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure Fyrst Earle of Dorin-
court Allsoe of Alisone Hildegarde bys wyfe.

«I’ve a great deal to thank your Lordship for,” said Higgins.

Wilkins was carrying bis hat for bim, and his hair was Sling, but

he came back at a brisk canter.

** Up the lad has to get, and my Lord trudges alongside of bim with

his hands in his pockets.”

The workmen liked to see him stana among them, talking away,

with his bands in his pockets.

** | was thinking how beautiful you are,” said Lord Fauntleroy. .



“ee

oe

ee

ee

ce

ce

ee

48

53
57
65

So

103

116

118
125
30

144

153





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.



“Why, Boss !’’ exclaimed Dick, ‘‘ do you know him yourself ?”’

“¢ Shall I be your boy, even if I’m not going to be an Earl?’’ said
Cedric

She was told by the footman at the door that the Earl Gane not
oe

«* Are you quite sure you want me?’’ said Mrs. Errol.

“My grandfather says these are my ancestors,’ said Fauntleroy.

Lord Fauntleroy makes a Speech to the tenants. . . . « .

Page

ce

we

xi

166

178

ee







“THE GATES WERE OPENED BY A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN WHO CAME OUT

29

COVERED LODGE.

OF A PRETTY IVY-





LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

I

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 ln:
to be carried around ie room on his shoulder. Since his papa’s
death, Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his f
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 eS
and mournful, and she was dressed in black.
“Dearest,” said Cedric (his papa had called her that always, ane
so the little boy had learned to say it),—“dearest, is my papa
better?”

(es himself knew nothing whatever about it. It had never



2 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,.



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 compre-
hend 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 compan-
ion 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 wéll
cand loved each other dearly, and were married, although their mar-









i
:
i
:
;



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 3



triage 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 Amer-
icans. 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 hada 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 col-
lege, 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 streneth 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 petu-



4 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



lance 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. Foran 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 yead 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



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 5



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 mar-
ried 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 car-
riage 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 gro-
ceryman 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



6 ; LITTLE EORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 uncourt-
eous 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
hew 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



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 7



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 com-
panion 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—some-
times 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! Did n't he come into my kitchen the noight the new Prisi-
dent 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 every-
thing 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



8 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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-xoo 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 mis.
thress’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, relat-
ing 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
hinrhis first interest in politics. Mr. Hobbs was fond of reading the



LAITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 9



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 mar-
quises. 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 ///ustrated
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! Ill have no
grasping tyrants sittin’ ‘round on my cracker-barrels!”



10 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

And he was so proud of the sentiment that he looked around
proudly and mopped his forehead.

“Perhaps they would n’t be earls if they knew any better,”
said Cedric, feeling some vague sympathy for their unhappy
condition.

“Would n’t they!” said Mr. Hobbs. “They just glory in it!
legsrinecem= siWhieya re asbadiot:

They were in the midst of their conversation, when Mary
appeared. Cedric thought she had come to buy some sugar, per-
haps, 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’ Viera

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?”

SING), ” 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 coupé 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.



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. It





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,andran
to her little
boy and
caught him
in her arms
and kissed
him in a
frightened,
troubled
way. “Oh!
Ceddie,-
darling!”

The tall
old gentle-
man 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.”





























































































































“SO THIS IS LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.”



{I

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 grand-
papa, 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 ee death—and for the pres-
ent 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 zot 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 ne 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.

Ti was never a more.amazed little boy than Cedric during

12



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. E 13



“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.

“T shall be very sorry to leave Mr. Hobbs,” he said. “I’m
afraid he ’Il 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 Faunt-
leroy to England—came the next day, Cedric heard many things.
But, somehow, it did not console him to hear that he was to bea
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 anne) over the top
of his newspaper.

“Hello!” he said again.



14 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 aad 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 would n’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; “/ am one—or I
am going to be. I wont 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 zs a hot day !
How do you feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel
that way?”





*MR. HOBBS,’ SAID CEDRIC, ‘AN EARL IS SITTING ON THIS BOX NOW!?”



SEAS Paterna erst on anehee te, coe tino,





LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 7



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 have n'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. ,

“TI could n’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 should n’t have been a lord or an earl if my
. papa had n’t died; and my papa would n’t have been an earl if his
two brothers had n’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

2



18 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“Tt ’s Cedric Errol, Lord Fauntleroy,” answered Cedric. ‘‘ That
was what Mr. Havisham called me. He said when | 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, is n’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, have n’t we?”



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 19



“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 atyrant. 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 rancor-
ous 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 aston-
ished Mr. Havisham, could that gentleman have heard it,

But then there were many things which astonished Mr. Hav-
isham. He had spent all his life in England, and was not accus-
tomed 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 matriage,
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



ZO) LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 coupé 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 splen-
dors, 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 splen-
did 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,



LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. ; 21



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 tome! 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.



22 : LITTLE LORD FA UNILEROY.



_ The lawyer cleared his throat. |

“T 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. Iam sorry to be the bearer of so unpleasant a communi-
cation, 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 isa
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.



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. | 23



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.”

‘“T 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.”



24 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 a 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 disposi-
tion 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



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 255)



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 chil-
dren, though he had seen plenty of them in England — fine, hand-
some, 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 littlke 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 readi-
ness 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.



26 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. |

“ He seems to be a very mature little fellow,” Mr. Havisham said
to the mother.
“] think he is, in some things,” she answered. “ He has always
been very quick to learn, and he has lived a great deal with grown-
up 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 coupé 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 lord-
ship, 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
coupé with a curious feeling of interest. He really never remem
bered 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 shriek-
ing with excitement. ‘Hooray, Billy Williams! Hooray, Ceddie !
Hooray, Billy! Hooray! ’Ray! ’Ray!”

“T 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



=

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 27



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 Dorin-
court had reached'the lamp-post at the end of
the block and touched it, just two seconds be-
fore Billy Williams flung himselfat 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 coupé 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 \ THE RACE.
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 com-
fortable. Even in the first flush of his triumphs, he remembered





28 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 differ-
ent 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 win-
dow; 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.



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 29



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.”

“Ts it?” said Mr. Havisham. ‘Is that why your presidents are
elected?”
“Ves,” 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 did n’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.”

“Tt is rather different from being a president,” said Mr. Havisham.

“Ts 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.



30 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

Pot



“ An earl is —is a very important person,” he began.

“So is a president!” put in Ceddie. “The torch-light proces-
sions 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 fre-
quently of very





ancient lineage

By

“What's that?”
asked Ceddie.

“Of very old
family —extreme-
ly old.”

SLI a ere ati
Cedric, thrusting
his hands deeper
into his pockets,
“T 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 slie 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 -





“¢Y USED TO THINK I MIGHT PERHAPS BE A PRESIDENT, BUT I
NEVER THOUGHT OF BEING AN EARL,’ SAID CEDDIE.”







LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 31



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 com-
panion’s innocent, serious little face.

“T 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 along time ago! Did
you tell Dearest that? It would intrust 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.”

‘‘T should like to do that myself,” said Cedric. ‘My papa was a
soldier, and he was a very brave man—as brave as George Wash-
ington. Perhaps that was because he would have been an earl if he
had n’t died. I am glad earls are brave. That’s a great ’van-
tage—to be a brave man. Once I used to be rather afraid of



32 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 would n’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
need n'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 -

«“Wheis Dick?” asked Mr. Havisham.





LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,. 33.

“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 beauti-
ful 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 J, 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, “Id 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 is n't a credit to the business,
and he is n’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 was n'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, [’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.”

3



34 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. .

“Ts there anything
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 1’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.



"he began. ‘‘ What would you get for

“‘T 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.”



LITILTE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 35



“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.

“Y think Ill 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 Faunt-
leroy pleasure to assist this poor woman, | 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





36 “LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



mother was too gentle to suspect any harm. She thought that per-
haps this meant ae a lonely, unhappy old man, whose children were
dead, wished to be kind to her little boy, and win his love and confi-
dence. 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 moa uoline 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.

‘“T 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 Faunt-
leroy 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 te them. “TIcan scarcely believe that it is true.”

“Tt 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.”



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY: 37

>——_——



“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 halt
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.

“‘T think, madam,” he said, ‘‘that if | may judge from my inter-
view with Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of Dorin-
court 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. hee: “T’ve
been talking to Bridget.”

Mr. Havisham looked down at hima 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



38 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. Is n’t that fine, Ceddie?
Is n'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 ae 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. i
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 tome. It’s for you
and Michael!”
“Oh, Master Ceddie!” cried Bridget, in an awe-stricken voice.
“Tt ’s twinty-foive dollars is here. Where be’s the misthress?”
‘‘T 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-indul-
gent 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 bene-
fits 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

a a a a a aaa ee ee







LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 30

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.

“Tt 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 did n’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 —1’m almost guzte glad I’m going to be one,”



Ait

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 after-
noon they so amazed the apple-woman of ancient lineage by stop-
ping 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. a
“For I have to go to England and be a lord,” explained Cedric,
sweet-temperedly. ‘And I should n’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 sympa-
thized 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 gasp-
ing for breath, and not at all believing in her great fortune. “Once,

(ince good opinion of the advantages of being an eari



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 41



when I fell down and cut my knee, she gave me an apple for noth-
ing. I’ve always remembered her for it. You know you always
remember people who are kind to you.” z

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 Faunt-
leroy’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.



“TI HAVE TO GO TO ENG- {ij
4 Wil
LAND AND BE A LORD.” /



42 _ LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“T soy!” he said, “ what’re yer givin’ us?” This plainly embar-
rassed his lordship a little, but he bore himself bravely. ;

‘Everybody thinks it not true at first,” he said. ‘Mr. Hobbs
thought I’d hada sunstroke. I did n’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 zs 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 any-
thing until Cedric put out his hand to shake hands with him before
going away. ieee

“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 ’Il 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 is n’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 did n’t try, and only winked his eyes and
swallowed a lump in his throat.



LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 43



“T wish ye was n'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.
“Tve 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.

“J 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.”

“T should n’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 would n't
mind his being an earl, would you? I mean you would n’t stay
away just because he was one, if he invited you to come?”



44 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘“‘I ’d come to see you,” replied Mr. Hobbs, graciously.

So it seemed to be agreed that if he received a pressing invita-
tion 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, did n’t we?” he said. ‘We
always will like it, wont 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













































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































DICK BOARDS THE STEAMER TO BID GOOD-BYE TO LORD FAUNTLEROY.







LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 47



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
fed in his hand. It was Dick. He came up to Cedric quite
breathless. :

“J ’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 1 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 did n'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:



48 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘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.



























mE EE a ee ae a ee ee Ty

IV

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

T was during the voyage that Cedric’s mother told him that his

many things to tell me! and we shall be so happy together! Itisa

beautiful place. Your papa has often told me about it. He loved
it very much: and you will love it too.”
‘“‘T 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.
‘‘T should prefer he should not be told,” she said to Mr. Hav-
isham. ‘He would not really understand; he would only be
shocked and hurt; and | feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will

4 49



%

50 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,



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.

‘1 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 mourn-
ful. 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





LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. - S§1



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
tome. 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 was
n't yous 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?”

SN Vice a 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 would n’t
want me to have everything that I like, and he wouid n’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



52 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ship-
wrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice ropes and rig toy
ships, and gained an amount of information concerning “tops'ls” and
“mains|s,” quite surprising. His conversation had, indeed, quite a
nautical flavor at times, and on one occasion he raised a shout of.
laughter. ina 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 canni-
bals. 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 some-
thing like a hair-brush. I never heard anything like the asperiences
Jerry hashad! I should so like to tell Mr. Hobbs about them !”





LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 53



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 At-
lantic than little Lord Faunt-
leroy. He was always innocently
and good-naturedly ready to do -
his small best to add to the gen-
eral entertainment, and there
was a charm in the very uncon-
sciousness 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 could n’t be all
quite true, if they had n’t hap-
pened 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.”



JERRY NARRATES SOME OF HIS ADVENTURES.



54 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



, 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.

“Tam 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 strange-
ness 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.





EE EEE Sop amet ne NIA BM EEN LLC OT



Be erate



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 55



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, is n’t it? lam
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.

“Tt 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 fre,
and an arm-chair on each side of it. The stately white cat had -
responded to Lord Fauntleroy’s stroking and followed him down-
stairs, 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



56 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ed down at Cedric. He was lying in a grace-
ful, 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 ?” 2

“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. Iam 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.





“THE BIG CAT WAS PURRING IN DROWSY CONTENT; SHE LIKED THE CARESSING TOUCH
OF THE KIND LITTLE HAND.”







LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 59



“This is very strange,” he said. ‘He will be very angry. He
wont understand it.”

“T think he will understand it after he thinks it over,” she said.
“TI 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.

“T 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 excel-
lent 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.



— 60 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. -



“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 aladis 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 ?”

“T do not think it has injured him, my lord,” replied the lawyer
in his dry, deliberate fashion. “I don’t know much about childrea,
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 care-
less 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.”



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 61



“T have n't a doubt of that,” snarled the Earl, a twinge of gout
seizing him. “A lot of impudent little beggars, those American
children ; 1 ve heard that often enough.”

“It is not exactly impudence in his case,” said Mr. Havisham.
“T 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. Hav-
isham who broke it.

““T have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol,” he remarked.

‘T don’t want any of her messages!” growled his lordship; “the
less | hear of her the better.”

“This is a rather important one,
prefers not to accept the income you puopeee to settle on her.”

The Ear! 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

”

explained the lawyer. ‘She

”



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 mer-
cenary. She has asked for nothing. She does not accept the
money you offer her.”



62 : LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“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 wont 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 wont spend it,” said Mr. Havisham.

‘1 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.”

“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 be-
cause 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 rea-
son, 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 has n’t told him ?”



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 63



‘“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. :

“‘] 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

| 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 com-
fortably 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.

[: was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing little

64



Pages
65-66
Missing

From
Original





LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 67



‘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.

“T 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







68 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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, is n'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.



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 69



“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 acap. 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 Faunt-
leroy, 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.

‘TI 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



7O LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. Fora 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.’

fo memainn



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 71



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 unhesi-
tatingly 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.



72 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘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 wasa
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 com-
fortable as he sat there, and regarded his august relative intently
but modestly.

“T’ve kept wondering what you would look like,” he remarked.
“T used to lie in my berth in the ship and wonder if you would be
anything like my father.”

“Am 1?” 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 was n’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 Fauntle-
roy, “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!”



LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY, 73



“ 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 did n’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 ie

‘“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 could n’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





74 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

7



well, had watched it with secret interest. Dougal was not a dog
whose habit it was to make acquaintances rashly, and the Earl won-
dered 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.

“JT think it means that he would n’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’sa
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 | bought Jake out
and gave him the new brushes. It ’s a keepsake. I put some



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 75



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 ifhe 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.



76 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 hav-
ing 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 disagree-



LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 77



able 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 com-
panion 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 transpar-
encies, torches and rockets. In the course of the. conversation, he
reached the Fourth of July and the Revolution, and was just becom-
ing 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 fis chair. It was
evident to the Earl that he was embarrassed by the peer which
had just occurred to him.

“T was just thinking that perhaps you might n’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.



Toa LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“Tl was boru 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 sonar itive 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 Pa
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.



LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. | 73



“TT ¢henk I could,” said Cedric. “I’mstrong. 1’mseven, 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 viclently 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 Fawatleroy made a careful
step forward, mes 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 is n’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



80 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 stiff-
ened his childish
muscles, held his
head erect, and en-
couraged 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
““JUST LEAN ON ME,’ SAID LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY, little figure making
‘1’°LL WALK VERY SLOWLY.’ ” 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

















































LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 81



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, is n’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 sur-
roundings were unnecessary.

“ You have been doing some rather hard work,” said the Earl.
“Oh, no!” said Lord Fauntleroy, “it was n’t exactly hard, but I
got alittle warm. A person will get warm in summer time.”

And he rubbed his damp curls rather vigorously with the gor-
geous 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, every-
thing he had seen so far,—the great rooms, with their high ceilings,
the massive furniture, the big footman, the big dog, the Earl him-
self,—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 ~

6



82 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ex¢rées 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 enter-
tained 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.” .

“Ves,” said the Earl, “I take it off occasionally.”

And one of the footmen suddenly turned aside and gave a sin-
gular 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.





LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 83





‘“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 have n’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. ‘J should be proud of it if it were my house. Every-
thing about it is beautiful. And the park, and those trees,—how -
beautiful they are, and how the leaves rustle!”

Then be paused an instant and looked across the table rather:
wistfully.

“It’s a very big house for just two people to live in, is n’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 ¢hat 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,”



$4 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“T 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.



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 85



« Come here,” he said.

Fauntleroy went to him.

“IT 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.

“T 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 Iam aman I am going to
work and earn money for her.”

“What do you think of doing?” inquired his grandfather.





86 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. :

“T did think perhaps I might go into business with Mr. Hobbs,”
he said; “but I should Ze to be a President.”

“We 'll send you to the House of Lords instead,” said his grand-
father.

Well,” remarked Lord Fauntleroy, “if 1 could n’t be a Presi-
dent, and if that is a good business, I should n’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 wis 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

HEN: 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.”

“Tf them ’s his lordship’s orders, mem,” another voice answered,
they ‘Il 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”

87



88 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



it ’s my opinion, my lord was n’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 comfort-
able, 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.

cs Good-morning,” he said. “J did n’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.

“ Flow 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
asmile. ‘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



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 89



course it would n’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 Ill 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 adjoin-
ing it which Dawson told him was his also, the feeling that he was



Full Text




cae,

ag,














Po



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY
MRS. BURNETT'S FAMOUS JUVENILES.

WO LITTLE
PILGRIM’S PROGRESS.

A Story oF THE City BEAUTIFUL.



SQUARE 8vo, $1.50.



‘““ The day we first read tt will stand ever
after among the red-letter days of life. It isa
story to be marked with a white stone, a strong;
sweet, true book, touching the high-water mark
of excellence,’—Mrs, MARGARET E, SANGSTER,



ee LORD FAUNTLEROY.

SQUARE 8vo, $2.00.



“In ‘LittleLord Fauntleroy’ we gain another
charming child to add to our gallery of fuventle
heroes and heroines; one. who teaches a great
lesson with such truth and sweetness that we
part with him with real regret when the episode
zs over.’—Loutsa M. Atcorr.

Coe AND THE OTHER.

CHILDREN Wuo Have Mabe Stories.



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Four of these stories, sad, sweet and touched
with delicate humor, are about little Italian
watls who crept into the author's heart. Two of
the stories are af incidents in the lives of Mrs.
Burnet?’s own boys ; and the others, while varied
in subject, have the same magic charm of dis-
closing the beauty of child-life with a sympathy
and warmth of feeling the secret of which Mrs.
Burnett alone seents to possess,



DICCINO, AND OTHER
CHILD STORIES.



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“The history of Piccine’s ‘two days’ is as
delicate as one of the anemones that spring in the
rock walls facing Piccino’s Mediterranean... .
The other stories in the book have the charm of
their predecessor in material and manner... .
A delightful volume,’'—Mrs. BurToN HARRISON.

So CREWE.



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“ Ruerybody was in love with ‘Little Lord
Fauntleroy, and I think all the world and the
vest of mankind will be in love with ‘Sara
Crewe. The tale is so tender, so wise, so human,
that I wish every girl in America could read it,
Jor I think everyone would be made better by
zt,’—Louise CHANDLER Mouton.

[THEE SAINT ELIZABETH,

AND OTHER SToRIES..



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“ The pretty tale has for its heroine a little
French girl brought upin an old chateau in Nor-
mandy by an aunt who ts a recluseand a devote,
A child of this type transplanted suddenly
to the realistic atmosphere of New York must
inevitably have much to suffer. The quaint
dittle figure blindly trying to guess the riddle af
duty under these unfamiliar conditions ts
pathetic, and Mrs. Burnett touches it in with
delicate strokes.’ —Susan Coo.ipGE,

Each Illustrated by REGINALD B. BIRCH.


































































































































“ARE YOU THE EARL?’ SAID CEDRIC, ‘1’M YOUR GRANDSON, I’M LORD FAUNTLEROY,’”
LITTLE [ORD FAUNTLEROY

BY

FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT











et

NEW-YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1895
Copyright, 1886, by
CARLES SCRIBNER’S Sons,

Press of J. J. Little & Co,
Astor Place, New York
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FROM DRAWINGS BY REGINALD B. BIRCH.

“Are you the Earl?” said Cedric; “I’m your grandson, I’m

' Lord Fauntleroy.”

Frontispiece.
Vignette. Title-page.
“So this is little Lord Fauntleroy.” Page
“«Mr. Hobbs,”’ said Cedric, ‘an Earl is silting on this box now!” . ce 15
The eee ee HE sy
“I used to think I might perhaps be a President, but I never thought
of being GU OU SAIGsCcd die 8 Ge fo 2 30
‘* I have to go to England andbeaLord.” . . . . . . | Se Ge el

Dick boards the steamer to bid good-bye to Lord Fauntleroy. SAS
x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.



Viti
Jerry narrates some of bis Adventures, . . « «© + « 6

The big cat was purring in drowsy content ; she liked the caressing

touch of the hind littlehand. . . . « + « « « «

The gates were opened by a woman and two chiléren who came out

of @ pretly tuy-covered lodge. . . . »« « « »« « «

** Just lean on me,” said little Lord Fauntleroy. I’ll walk very

slowly.”
Lord Fauntleroy writes a letter. . 2. . 6 2 0 oo

Here lyeth ‘ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure Fyrst Earle of Dorin-
court Allsoe of Alisone Hildegarde bys wyfe.

«I’ve a great deal to thank your Lordship for,” said Higgins.

Wilkins was carrying bis hat for bim, and his hair was Sling, but

he came back at a brisk canter.

** Up the lad has to get, and my Lord trudges alongside of bim with

his hands in his pockets.”

The workmen liked to see him stana among them, talking away,

with his bands in his pockets.

** | was thinking how beautiful you are,” said Lord Fauntleroy. .



“ee

oe

ee

ee

ce

ce

ee

48

53
57
65

So

103

116

118
125
30

144

153


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.



“Why, Boss !’’ exclaimed Dick, ‘‘ do you know him yourself ?”’

“¢ Shall I be your boy, even if I’m not going to be an Earl?’’ said
Cedric

She was told by the footman at the door that the Earl Gane not
oe

«* Are you quite sure you want me?’’ said Mrs. Errol.

“My grandfather says these are my ancestors,’ said Fauntleroy.

Lord Fauntleroy makes a Speech to the tenants. . . . « .

Page

ce

we

xi

166

178

ee




“THE GATES WERE OPENED BY A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN WHO CAME OUT

29

COVERED LODGE.

OF A PRETTY IVY-


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

I

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 ln:
to be carried around ie room on his shoulder. Since his papa’s
death, Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his f
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 eS
and mournful, and she was dressed in black.
“Dearest,” said Cedric (his papa had called her that always, ane
so the little boy had learned to say it),—“dearest, is my papa
better?”

(es himself knew nothing whatever about it. It had never
2 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,.



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 compre-
hend 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 compan-
ion 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 wéll
cand loved each other dearly, and were married, although their mar-






i
:
i
:
;



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 3



triage 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 Amer-
icans. 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 hada 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 col-
lege, 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 streneth 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 petu-
4 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



lance 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. Foran 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 yead 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 5



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 mar-
ried 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 car-
riage 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 gro-
ceryman 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
6 ; LITTLE EORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 uncourt-
eous 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
hew 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 7



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 com-
panion 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—some-
times 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! Did n't he come into my kitchen the noight the new Prisi-
dent 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 every-
thing 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
8 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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-xoo 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 mis.
thress’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, relat-
ing 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
hinrhis first interest in politics. Mr. Hobbs was fond of reading the
LAITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 9



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 mar-
quises. 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 ///ustrated
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! Ill have no
grasping tyrants sittin’ ‘round on my cracker-barrels!”
10 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

And he was so proud of the sentiment that he looked around
proudly and mopped his forehead.

“Perhaps they would n’t be earls if they knew any better,”
said Cedric, feeling some vague sympathy for their unhappy
condition.

“Would n’t they!” said Mr. Hobbs. “They just glory in it!
legsrinecem= siWhieya re asbadiot:

They were in the midst of their conversation, when Mary
appeared. Cedric thought she had come to buy some sugar, per-
haps, 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’ Viera

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?”

SING), ” 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 coupé 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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. It





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,andran
to her little
boy and
caught him
in her arms
and kissed
him in a
frightened,
troubled
way. “Oh!
Ceddie,-
darling!”

The tall
old gentle-
man 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.”





























































































































“SO THIS IS LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.”
{I

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 grand-
papa, 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 ee death—and for the pres-
ent 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 zot 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 ne 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.

Ti was never a more.amazed little boy than Cedric during

12
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. E 13



“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.

“T shall be very sorry to leave Mr. Hobbs,” he said. “I’m
afraid he ’Il 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 Faunt-
leroy to England—came the next day, Cedric heard many things.
But, somehow, it did not console him to hear that he was to bea
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 anne) over the top
of his newspaper.

“Hello!” he said again.
14 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 aad 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 would n’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; “/ am one—or I
am going to be. I wont 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 zs a hot day !
How do you feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel
that way?”


*MR. HOBBS,’ SAID CEDRIC, ‘AN EARL IS SITTING ON THIS BOX NOW!?”
SEAS Paterna erst on anehee te, coe tino,


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 7



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 have n'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. ,

“TI could n’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 should n’t have been a lord or an earl if my
. papa had n’t died; and my papa would n’t have been an earl if his
two brothers had n’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

2
18 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“Tt ’s Cedric Errol, Lord Fauntleroy,” answered Cedric. ‘‘ That
was what Mr. Havisham called me. He said when | 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, is n’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, have n’t we?”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 19



“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 atyrant. 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 rancor-
ous 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 aston-
ished Mr. Havisham, could that gentleman have heard it,

But then there were many things which astonished Mr. Hav-
isham. He had spent all his life in England, and was not accus-
tomed 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 matriage,
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
ZO) LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 coupé 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 splen-
dors, 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 splen-
did 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,
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. ; 21



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 tome! 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.
22 : LITTLE LORD FA UNILEROY.



_ The lawyer cleared his throat. |

“T 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. Iam sorry to be the bearer of so unpleasant a communi-
cation, 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 isa
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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. | 23



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.”

‘“T 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.”
24 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 a 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 disposi-
tion 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 255)



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 chil-
dren, though he had seen plenty of them in England — fine, hand-
some, 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 littlke 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 readi-
ness 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.
26 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. |

“ He seems to be a very mature little fellow,” Mr. Havisham said
to the mother.
“] think he is, in some things,” she answered. “ He has always
been very quick to learn, and he has lived a great deal with grown-
up 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 coupé 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 lord-
ship, 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
coupé with a curious feeling of interest. He really never remem
bered 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 shriek-
ing with excitement. ‘Hooray, Billy Williams! Hooray, Ceddie !
Hooray, Billy! Hooray! ’Ray! ’Ray!”

“T 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
=

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 27



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 Dorin-
court had reached'the lamp-post at the end of
the block and touched it, just two seconds be-
fore Billy Williams flung himselfat 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 coupé 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 \ THE RACE.
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 com-
fortable. Even in the first flush of his triumphs, he remembered


28 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 differ-
ent 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 win-
dow; 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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 29



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.”

“Ts it?” said Mr. Havisham. ‘Is that why your presidents are
elected?”
“Ves,” 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 did n’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.”

“Tt is rather different from being a president,” said Mr. Havisham.

“Ts 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.
30 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

Pot



“ An earl is —is a very important person,” he began.

“So is a president!” put in Ceddie. “The torch-light proces-
sions 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 fre-
quently of very





ancient lineage

By

“What's that?”
asked Ceddie.

“Of very old
family —extreme-
ly old.”

SLI a ere ati
Cedric, thrusting
his hands deeper
into his pockets,
“T 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 slie 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 -





“¢Y USED TO THINK I MIGHT PERHAPS BE A PRESIDENT, BUT I
NEVER THOUGHT OF BEING AN EARL,’ SAID CEDDIE.”




LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 31



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 com-
panion’s innocent, serious little face.

“T 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 along time ago! Did
you tell Dearest that? It would intrust 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.”

‘‘T should like to do that myself,” said Cedric. ‘My papa was a
soldier, and he was a very brave man—as brave as George Wash-
ington. Perhaps that was because he would have been an earl if he
had n’t died. I am glad earls are brave. That’s a great ’van-
tage—to be a brave man. Once I used to be rather afraid of
32 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 would n’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
need n'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 -

«“Wheis Dick?” asked Mr. Havisham.


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,. 33.

“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 beauti-
ful 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 J, 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, “Id 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 is n't a credit to the business,
and he is n’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 was n'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, [’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.”

3
34 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. .

“Ts there anything
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 1’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.



"he began. ‘‘ What would you get for

“‘T 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.”
LITILTE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 35



“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.

“Y think Ill 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 Faunt-
leroy pleasure to assist this poor woman, | 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


36 “LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



mother was too gentle to suspect any harm. She thought that per-
haps this meant ae a lonely, unhappy old man, whose children were
dead, wished to be kind to her little boy, and win his love and confi-
dence. 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 moa uoline 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.

‘“T 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 Faunt-
leroy 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 te them. “TIcan scarcely believe that it is true.”

“Tt 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.”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY: 37

>——_——



“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 halt
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.

“‘T think, madam,” he said, ‘‘that if | may judge from my inter-
view with Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of Dorin-
court 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. hee: “T’ve
been talking to Bridget.”

Mr. Havisham looked down at hima 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
38 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. Is n’t that fine, Ceddie?
Is n'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 ae 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. i
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 tome. It’s for you
and Michael!”
“Oh, Master Ceddie!” cried Bridget, in an awe-stricken voice.
“Tt ’s twinty-foive dollars is here. Where be’s the misthress?”
‘‘T 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-indul-
gent 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 bene-
fits 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

a a a a a aaa ee ee




LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 30

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.

“Tt 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 did n’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 —1’m almost guzte glad I’m going to be one,”
Ait

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 after-
noon they so amazed the apple-woman of ancient lineage by stop-
ping 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. a
“For I have to go to England and be a lord,” explained Cedric,
sweet-temperedly. ‘And I should n’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 sympa-
thized 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 gasp-
ing for breath, and not at all believing in her great fortune. “Once,

(ince good opinion of the advantages of being an eari
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 41



when I fell down and cut my knee, she gave me an apple for noth-
ing. I’ve always remembered her for it. You know you always
remember people who are kind to you.” z

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 Faunt-
leroy’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.



“TI HAVE TO GO TO ENG- {ij
4 Wil
LAND AND BE A LORD.” /
42 _ LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“T soy!” he said, “ what’re yer givin’ us?” This plainly embar-
rassed his lordship a little, but he bore himself bravely. ;

‘Everybody thinks it not true at first,” he said. ‘Mr. Hobbs
thought I’d hada sunstroke. I did n’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 zs 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 any-
thing until Cedric put out his hand to shake hands with him before
going away. ieee

“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 ’Il 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 is n’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 did n’t try, and only winked his eyes and
swallowed a lump in his throat.
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 43



“T wish ye was n'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.
“Tve 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.

“J 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.”

“T should n’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 would n't
mind his being an earl, would you? I mean you would n’t stay
away just because he was one, if he invited you to come?”
44 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘“‘I ’d come to see you,” replied Mr. Hobbs, graciously.

So it seemed to be agreed that if he received a pressing invita-
tion 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, did n’t we?” he said. ‘We
always will like it, wont 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










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































DICK BOARDS THE STEAMER TO BID GOOD-BYE TO LORD FAUNTLEROY.

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 47



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
fed in his hand. It was Dick. He came up to Cedric quite
breathless. :

“J ’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 1 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 did n'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:
48 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘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.
























mE EE a ee ae a ee ee Ty

IV

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

T was during the voyage that Cedric’s mother told him that his

many things to tell me! and we shall be so happy together! Itisa

beautiful place. Your papa has often told me about it. He loved
it very much: and you will love it too.”
‘“‘T 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.
‘‘T should prefer he should not be told,” she said to Mr. Hav-
isham. ‘He would not really understand; he would only be
shocked and hurt; and | feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will

4 49
%

50 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,



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.

‘1 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 mourn-
ful. 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


LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. - S§1



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
tome. 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 was
n't yous 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?”

SN Vice a 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 would n’t
want me to have everything that I like, and he wouid n’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
52 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ship-
wrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice ropes and rig toy
ships, and gained an amount of information concerning “tops'ls” and
“mains|s,” quite surprising. His conversation had, indeed, quite a
nautical flavor at times, and on one occasion he raised a shout of.
laughter. ina 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 canni-
bals. 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 some-
thing like a hair-brush. I never heard anything like the asperiences
Jerry hashad! I should so like to tell Mr. Hobbs about them !”


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 53



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 At-
lantic than little Lord Faunt-
leroy. He was always innocently
and good-naturedly ready to do -
his small best to add to the gen-
eral entertainment, and there
was a charm in the very uncon-
sciousness 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 could n’t be all
quite true, if they had n’t hap-
pened 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.”



JERRY NARRATES SOME OF HIS ADVENTURES.
54 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



, 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.

“Tam 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 strange-
ness 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.


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Be erate



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 55



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, is n’t it? lam
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.

“Tt 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 fre,
and an arm-chair on each side of it. The stately white cat had -
responded to Lord Fauntleroy’s stroking and followed him down-
stairs, 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
56 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ed down at Cedric. He was lying in a grace-
ful, 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 ?” 2

“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. Iam 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.


“THE BIG CAT WAS PURRING IN DROWSY CONTENT; SHE LIKED THE CARESSING TOUCH
OF THE KIND LITTLE HAND.”

LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 59



“This is very strange,” he said. ‘He will be very angry. He
wont understand it.”

“T think he will understand it after he thinks it over,” she said.
“TI 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.

“T 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 excel-
lent 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.
— 60 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. -



“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 aladis 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 ?”

“T do not think it has injured him, my lord,” replied the lawyer
in his dry, deliberate fashion. “I don’t know much about childrea,
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 care-
less 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.”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 61



“T have n't a doubt of that,” snarled the Earl, a twinge of gout
seizing him. “A lot of impudent little beggars, those American
children ; 1 ve heard that often enough.”

“It is not exactly impudence in his case,” said Mr. Havisham.
“T 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. Hav-
isham who broke it.

““T have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol,” he remarked.

‘T don’t want any of her messages!” growled his lordship; “the
less | hear of her the better.”

“This is a rather important one,
prefers not to accept the income you puopeee to settle on her.”

The Ear! 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

”

explained the lawyer. ‘She

”



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 mer-
cenary. She has asked for nothing. She does not accept the
money you offer her.”
62 : LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“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 wont 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 wont spend it,” said Mr. Havisham.

‘1 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.”

“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 be-
cause 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 rea-
son, 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 has n’t told him ?”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 63



‘“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. :

“‘] 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

| 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 com-
fortably 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.

[: was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing little

64
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65-66
Missing

From
Original


LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 67



‘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.

“T 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




68 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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, is n'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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 69



“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 acap. 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 Faunt-
leroy, 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.

‘TI 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
7O LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. Fora 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.’

fo memainn
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 71



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 unhesi-
tatingly 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.
72 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘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 wasa
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 com-
fortable as he sat there, and regarded his august relative intently
but modestly.

“T’ve kept wondering what you would look like,” he remarked.
“T used to lie in my berth in the ship and wonder if you would be
anything like my father.”

“Am 1?” 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 was n’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 Fauntle-
roy, “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!”
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY, 73



“ 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 did n’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 ie

‘“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 could n’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


74 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

7



well, had watched it with secret interest. Dougal was not a dog
whose habit it was to make acquaintances rashly, and the Earl won-
dered 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.

“JT think it means that he would n’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’sa
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 | bought Jake out
and gave him the new brushes. It ’s a keepsake. I put some
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 75



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 ifhe 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.
76 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 hav-
ing 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 disagree-
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 77



able 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 com-
panion 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 transpar-
encies, torches and rockets. In the course of the. conversation, he
reached the Fourth of July and the Revolution, and was just becom-
ing 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 fis chair. It was
evident to the Earl that he was embarrassed by the peer which
had just occurred to him.

“T was just thinking that perhaps you might n’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.
Toa LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“Tl was boru 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 sonar itive 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 Pa
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.
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. | 73



“TT ¢henk I could,” said Cedric. “I’mstrong. 1’mseven, 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 viclently 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 Fawatleroy made a careful
step forward, mes 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 is n’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
80 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 stiff-
ened his childish
muscles, held his
head erect, and en-
couraged 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
““JUST LEAN ON ME,’ SAID LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY, little figure making
‘1’°LL WALK VERY SLOWLY.’ ” 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














































LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 81



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, is n’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 sur-
roundings were unnecessary.

“ You have been doing some rather hard work,” said the Earl.
“Oh, no!” said Lord Fauntleroy, “it was n’t exactly hard, but I
got alittle warm. A person will get warm in summer time.”

And he rubbed his damp curls rather vigorously with the gor-
geous 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, every-
thing he had seen so far,—the great rooms, with their high ceilings,
the massive furniture, the big footman, the big dog, the Earl him-
self,—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 ~

6
82 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ex¢rées 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 enter-
tained 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.” .

“Ves,” said the Earl, “I take it off occasionally.”

And one of the footmen suddenly turned aside and gave a sin-
gular 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.


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 83





‘“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 have n’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. ‘J should be proud of it if it were my house. Every-
thing about it is beautiful. And the park, and those trees,—how -
beautiful they are, and how the leaves rustle!”

Then be paused an instant and looked across the table rather:
wistfully.

“It’s a very big house for just two people to live in, is n’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 ¢hat 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,”
$4 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“T 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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 85



« Come here,” he said.

Fauntleroy went to him.

“IT 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.

“T 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 Iam aman I am going to
work and earn money for her.”

“What do you think of doing?” inquired his grandfather.


86 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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. :

“T did think perhaps I might go into business with Mr. Hobbs,”
he said; “but I should Ze to be a President.”

“We 'll send you to the House of Lords instead,” said his grand-
father.

Well,” remarked Lord Fauntleroy, “if 1 could n’t be a Presi-
dent, and if that is a good business, I should n’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 wis 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

HEN: 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.”

“Tf them ’s his lordship’s orders, mem,” another voice answered,
they ‘Il 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”

87
88 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



it ’s my opinion, my lord was n’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 comfort-
able, 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.

cs Good-morning,” he said. “J did n’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.

“ Flow 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
asmile. ‘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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 89



course it would n’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 Ill 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 adjoin-
ing it which Dawson told him was his also, the feeling that he was
90 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 break-
fast service was arranged.

“T 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 ’Il
like it here. It’s such a beautiful place, you know.”

“Tt’s a very beautiful place, of course,” said Fauntleroy, with a
little sigh; ‘but I should like it better if I did n’t miss Dearest so. _
I always had my breakfast with her in the morning, and put the
sugar and cream in her tea for ns 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 ’Il 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 H

“Ts there?” exclaimed Fauntleroy; “1’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
was n't balky.”

“Well,” said Dawson, “ you just wait till you ’ve seen what ’s in
the stables. And, deary me, you Beye n'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


\
NG

LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. gi



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;
“T’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 stoud 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 differ-
ent 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.

“Tt 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 Grand-
papa!” 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
92 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

yourself, and be happy all the day, ie 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 nov-
elty 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 pre-
pared 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 fora 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 93



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. :

‘“‘T 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 ee obliged to you! I have been playing
with them all the morning.”

“Oh!” said the Earl, “ you like them, do you ?”

“T like them so much—well, I could n’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 could n’t quite understand it just at first—
you see, she never played baseball, being a lady; and I’m afraid I
was n't very good at explaining it to her. But you know all about
it, don’t you?”

“T’m afraid I don’t,” replied the Earl. “It’s an American game, _
isn'tit? Is it something like cricket?”

“T 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 could n’t forget it,” said the little fellow anx-
iously. ‘Perhaps it would bother you to be told about the game.
Do you think it would amuse you, or do you api it would bother
you?” ;
94 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



‘Go and get it,” said the Earl.

It certainly was a novel entertainment this;—making a com-
panion 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 deep-
ened on the old man’s face as he watched the little fellow’s prepara-
tions; 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. on

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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 95



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 Morneau 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 unpleas-
ant; 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 com-
pelled 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 mis-
fortunes; 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 causethe Reverend Mr. Mor-
daunt to wish it were proper and Christian-like to throw something


96 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



heavy athim. 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
ease, 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
eourse 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 Han
two days since, and if it were n’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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 97



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 hand-
some 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 boby—
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 dis-
cussed 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 wont 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

7
98 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 ran-
cor on the first person who called —which it sphesed 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 had n’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 unpleas-
ant he really could make himself when he tried.

“Ah!” he said, in his harsh voice, but giving his hand rather
graciously. “ Be eee, Mordaunt. I’ve ound a new employ-
ment, you see.’

He put his other hand on Gea 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.”
reclame st

6 Ree ae Sb pretend Sade aha et

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 99°





Fauntleroy looked up at the gentleman in the clerical garments,
and gave him his hand.

‘“‘T am very glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” he said, remem-
bering 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 smalt 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 pleas-

ant 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.

“Tam delighted to make your aequaintance, 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.”

“Tt was-a long way,” answered Fauntleroy, ‘but Dearest, my
mother, was with me and I was n'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 “Il conduct himself more creditably.” And then he added: “ Well,
what is it this morning, Mordaunt? Who is in trouble now?”
100 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 does n’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.

|
:
{
4
4
;
a
i


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. Io]



The Earl slightly started.

“T forgot you/” he said. ‘1 forgot we had a philanthropist in
the room. Who was Michael?” And the gleam of queer amuse-
ment came back into the old man’s deep-set eyes.

“ He was Bridget’s husband, who had the fever,” answered Faunt-
leroy; “(and he could n'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.

“1 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 were n’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, per-
haps, 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, know-
ing 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
102 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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-indul-
gent 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, Iam only a boy.” Then, after a second’s pause, in which his
face brightened visibly, “Yow 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.
* “J 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. ° ‘
OS

<

a

EG
cK:
Lis o

SS

=
SS
es

i

Xs

i;
es

6

oe



OY
one
—— oo

————



LORD FAUNTLEROY WRITES A LETTER.

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. : 105



“ There!” he said gayly, ‘“‘now you can write it.”

‘‘ You are to write it,” said the Earl.

“1!” exclaimed Fauntleroy, and a flush overspread his forehead.
“Will it do if I write it? I don’t always spell quite right when I
have n’t a dictionary, and nobody tells me.”

“Tt 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 inturfeared witn 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’?”
106 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“It’s not exactly the way it is spelled in the dictionary,”
answered the Earl.

“T 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. Ill 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 is n’t, you know; and you ’d think ‘dear’ was
spelled d-e-r-e, if you did n't inquire. Sometimes it almost discour-
ages 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 Dorin-
court 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.”

“Tf 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.”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY., | . 107



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
{ order it to be brought around?”
Fauntleroy’s cheeks grew redder and redder.

“YT never thought I should have a pony!” he said. “J 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 wand to see it,” he said.

“‘T want to see it so much I can hardly wait. But I ’m afraid there
is n’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 morn-
ing 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.”
108 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



He leaned back against the cushions and regarded the Earl
with rapt interest for a few minutes and in entire silence.

“T think you must be the best person in the world,” he burst
forth at last. “You are always doing good, are n'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 peo-
ple. That is just the way you are, is n'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 sim-
plicity 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 chil-
dren, 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
allhappy. 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 did n’t know any, and he ’d only read about them in books.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. | 109



He thought— you must n’t mind it — that they were gory tyrants;
and he said he would n’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.” 2

“What shall you tell him?”

“T shall tell him,” said Fauntleroy, glowing with enthusiam, ‘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 kind-
ling face. And a dull red crept up under his withered skin, and he
suddenly turned his eyes away and looked out of the carriage win-
dow at the great beech-trees, with the sun shining on their glossy,
red-brown leaves. :

“ Yust 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 beau-
tiful, 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 power-
ful had used his youth and strength and wealth and power only to
110 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 cyni-
- cal, worldly old man, who had been sufficient unto himself for sev-
enty 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
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. Iti



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.” a

“1 am not going to get out,” replied his lordship brusquely.

‘‘Not—not to see Dearest?” exclaimed Fauntleroy with aston-
ished 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.” :

“TY 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 lit-
tle 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 iordship 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

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, comfort-
able, 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 druggists 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 druggists 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
peen 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 await-
ing him, and a small groom to attend it, and a little dog-cart, with |

‘e) the following Sunday morning, Mr. Mordaunt had a large

r12
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 113



silver-mounted harness. And she could tell, too, what all the ser-
vants 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 could n’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

8
IL4 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 lin-
gerers 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 hatas she
passed. For a moment she did not understand, and then she real-
ized 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 lik-
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. arene



ing 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 inter-
est 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 Pe
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, uve
eyes on them as he tried to bow to every one at once.

“God bless your lordship !” said the courtesying, red-cloaked pld
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
116 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 Ali-
sone 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
































- LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 117



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 sun-
shine 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 ten-
der 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 cquld 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

\
T1138 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

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



“] VE A GREAT DEAL TO THANK YOUR LORDSHIP FOR,” SAID HIGGINS.

his thoughts were, and whether they were hard and bitter, or soft-
ened 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY,. IIQ



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.

“T’ve a great deal to thank your lordship for,” he said; “a great
deal. I G

“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.

“T—well, yes, your lordship,” he stammered, ‘the missus is
better since the trouble was took off her mind. It was worrying



broke her down.”

“T ’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.”
120 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 try-
ing, 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 under-
stands 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

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 deny-
ing 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 amuse-
ment, 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 ata 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 grand-
father was gratified at the outset. If Cedric had been a less hand-

I2r

| Dorincourt had occasion to wear his grim smile many a
122 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

some 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, notwithstand-
ing 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 bear-
ing, 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,
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. e238



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 were n’t no trouble to put 42m up.
An’ a old un would n’t ha’ sat any straighter when he were Cp ee ale
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, Faunt-
leroy 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.

“T 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 eques-
trian. 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-does n’t it?” he said to
Wilkins. “ D-does it j-jolt y-you?”

‘No, my lord,” answered Wilkins. “Youll get used to it in »
time. Rise in your stirrups.”

“I'm ri-rising all the t-time,” said Fauntleroy.
124 LITTLE LORD 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. ‘Would n’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 should n’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 red-
der than before, and his hair was flying about his ears, but he came
at quite a brisk canter.




NG,

AND HIS HAIR WAS FLYI

“WILKINS WAS CARRYING HIS HAT FOR HIM,

E BACK AT A BRISK CANTER,”

M

BUT HE CA

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 127



“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 dis-
mounting 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 would
n't let me get down, because he said the boy. might n’t feel comfort-
able 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 was n’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
128 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 Faunt-
leroy 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 did n’t tell me to, but I thought

‘perhaps you forgot. That was right, was n’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 in.
creased. 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 over 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
g Vi OE ptm
EH Yyy 7, 7
LN io LE LY) fe

Oe

































“UP THE LAD HAS TO GET, AND MY LORD TRUDGES ALONGSIDE OF HIM WITH HIS HANDS
IN HIS POCKETS.”

LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. ; 131



any one supposed; even his mother did not know how often he pon-
dered 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 Dorin-
court 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 vir-
tuous 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 charges ofity ltmsna
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 every-
where 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 him-
self her enemy. She was obliged to step into the carriage, roses
and all, and let herself be taken to drive, while F auntleroy told her

‘
132 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 iam 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
ilike 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 ilove my granfarther every one does plees write
soon “your afechshnet old frend
“ Cedric Errol
“ps no one isin the dungon my granfarther never had any one langwishin in
there
“ps he is such a good earl he reminds me of you he is a unerversle favrit.”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. eos



‘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.

“T don’t know her,” answered his lordship rather crustily.

‘“T know that,” said Fauntleroy, ‘and that ’s what makes me
wonder. She told me not to ask you any questions, and—and |
wont, but sometimes I can’t help thinking, you ksow, 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.

“Tt 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 Bs

‘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.


1D.¢

those days, of many things of which he had never thought be-

fore, 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 exhibit-
ing 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

Te tact was, his lordship the Earl of Dorincourt thought in

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 grow-
ing 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.

134
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 135



One fine morning, people were amazed to see little Lord Faunt-
leroy 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 sug-
gested this plan. As he had been on the point of mounting his
pony, he had said rather wistfully to his grandfather :

“T 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
136 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. |



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.”
LITILE LORD FAONTLEROY, 137



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
138 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 him-
self 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 alto-
gether. 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, thought-
ful 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.

“Tt is his business to know about them,” said his lordship. “Been”
neglecting it—has he?”

Contradictory as it may seem, there was nothing which enter-
tained 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 139



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.

“T told her you did n’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 cot-
tages, and the bad drainage, and the damp walls and broken win-
dows 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.
140 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“What!” he said; “you want to make a builder of model cot-
tages 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 eager-
ness. ‘“ Dearest saysso. 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. é
xX

things in the course of her work among the poor of the lit-

tle 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 dis-
couragements, 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.
7 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

ae truth was that Mrs. Errol had found a great many sad

142
142 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 indul-
gence 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 gen-
erous 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 143



it was decided that the wretched hovels should be pulled down and
new houses should be built.

“Tt 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 iooked 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 majestic-
ally 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 com-
menced 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 lord-
ship with a bright smile. ‘Do you see how glad they are when
144 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 acquaint-
ance 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.

“T always like to know about
things like those,” he said, ‘“be-
cause 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
THE WORKMEN LIKED TO SEE HIM STAND AMONG they liked him, and liked to see
een ea 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





i my i i | i my
A ee hh

Thy






LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. T45



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 every-
where; 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, “any-
thing !”

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.

10
146 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“Is there anything you want,” the Earl asked; “anything you
have not?”
The little fellow’s brown eyes fixed themselves on his grand-
father 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 ?” .
‘“T 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 Se oy, “never; and she never ee
about me. I should n't forget about YOu, you noe if I did n’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. Andina strange and startling way it happened.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 147



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, stal-
wart, 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; -
148 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 remem-
bered him tenderly, and though she feared he had made a rash mar-
riage 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 hus-
band, “unless his mother is good enough and has a will of her ow
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 s

“Tt would n’t, Constantia,” said Sir Harry.

“T know it would n’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 grand-
father — 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


LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 149



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 loid-
ship’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 [
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 Dorin-
court.

“Tt 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 isso 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, slie 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 beauti-
150 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

ful, 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. Faunt-
leroy, 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 look-
ing down into his upraised face a few seconds, kissed him warmly.

“Tam 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 enor 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!”

“TI 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
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. I51

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 Azm,” said the Earl, nodding toward Fauntleroy.
“As to Mrs. Errol, youll 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 ne and
he scowled a little again.

‘But he does n’t hate her as much as ote 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.

“J 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,
152 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 charm-













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f a












an)
it :

Pay iygldi I
LI ih Mi
me i
"|

“*T WAS THINKING HOW BEAUTIFUL YoU ARE,’ SAID LORD FAUNTLEROY.”

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 155



ing 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.” —

“T 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.

“] think you are prettier than any one I ever saw,” said Faunt-
leroy, looking at her with innocent, admiring eyes, “except Dear-
156 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



est. Ofcourse, 1 could n’t think any one guzée as pretty as Dearest.
I think she is the prettiest person in the world.”

“T 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.

“T put it in my pocket to-night because it was a party,” he said.
“T 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 chairs 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 think-
ing, 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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 157



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.

“JT 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 any-
thing as it was to be late, but it was evident that he had been dis-
turbed. 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 won-
dered at it. He and Mr. Havisham were on friendly terms, and
they usually exchanged smiles. The lawyer seemed to have for-
gotten 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 gath-
ered 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
158 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY, ©



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 my-
self 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 Faunt-.
leroy 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


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 159



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-honse
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 fore
head too; his fierce old face was almost livid.

“What do you mean!” he cried out. ‘“ You are mad! Whose
lie is this?”

“Tf it is a lie,” answered Mr. Havisham, “it is painfully like the
truth, A woman came to my chambers this morning. She said your
160 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“T 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?”
~ “JT 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 s

The fastidious old lawyer ceased speaking and gave a sort of

shudder.


LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 161



The veins on the old Earl’s forehead stood out like purple
cords. Something else stood out upon it too—cold drops of moist-
ure. 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. ,

“JT 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.
162 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

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

% i 7 HEN Mr. Hobbs’s young friend left him to go to Dorin-
court Castle and become Lord F auntleroy, 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 news-
papers 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

163
wu 64. LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



say in his cheerful little voice: “Hello, Mr. Hobbs! This is a
hot day—is n’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 along 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 youth-
ful 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 inscrip-
tion: “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. Asa 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
LITGLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 165



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 fara at work blacking a cus-
tomer’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 Tipron
Can’r Be Brat.”

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.

“Ves,” 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 guy’
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? ”

“T ve known him,” answered Mr. Hobbs, wiping his warm fore-
head, “ever since he was born. We was lifetime acquaintances —
that ’s what we was.”
166 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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, remem-
ber me,’” he read. ‘‘ That was his
parting keepsake tome ‘I don’t
want you to forget me’— those
was his words—lI ’d ha’ remem-











a J Z
ay i JZ A
ZW







cs





Fr

EROPLESSG~
DICK TIPRr





bered him,” he
went on, shak-
ing his head, “if
he had n’t given
me a thing, an’




“WHY, Boss!” EXCLAIMED DICK, “DO YOU KNOW

ae *
I had n’t seen HIM YOURSELF?” pw
. ra 2 RGD,
hide nor hair on i

him again. He was a companion as azy man would remember.”
‘“‘ He was the nicest little feller I ever see,” said Dick. “ An’ as to
sand—TI never seen so much sand to a little feller. I thought a
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 167



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
war n'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 42m. 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 mai’
who owned a corner store, and even had a horse and wagon, seemed
to him quite an event. , fs

“Do you know anything about earls and castles?” Mr. Hobbs
inquired, “Td like to know more of the particklars.”

“There ’s a story about some on ’em in the Fenny 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 are


168 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



n't earls, markises ‘ll do, or dooks — though 4e 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.

‘“T 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’ apple 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 eke
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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 169



opened two bottles of ginger ale, and pouring out two glasses, pro-
posed a toast.

“Here ’s to Atm/” 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.

‘T want,” he said, ‘‘a book about earls.”

‘What!” exclaimed the clerk.

“A book,” repeated the grocery-man, “about earls.”

“Tm afraid,” said the clerk, looking rather queer, ‘that we have
n't what you want.”

“Have n'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.
“JT ?’m afraid not,” said the clerk with a smile.
“ Well,” exclaimed Mr. Hobbs, ‘I ’Il 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 char-
acters 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.
170 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 burn.
ing 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 is n’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 does n’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
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 171

had lived with his elder brother, and had gone toa night-school ;
but, being a sharp boy, he had made the most of that brief educa-
tion, and had spelled out things in newspapers since then, and prac-
ticed 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 did n’t go
an marry a gal! Just went and got spoony an’ had n'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 a// the time. Hada
baby just like her,—yell day ’n’ night! An’ if I did n’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 did n’t we have a time—Ben ’n’ mehself ’n’ the young un. She
was mad at Ben because he did n’t make money faster; ’n’ at last
he went out West with a man to set up a cattle ranch. An’ had n’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 0’ 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 would n’t ha’ fretted a bit —’n’ I guess
he did n’t. But he thought a heap o’ her at the start. Tell you, he
\

172 - LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.





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 /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 could n’t help feelin’ sorry for him sometimes.”

They were sitting in the store door-way together, and Mr.
Hobbs was filling his pipe.

“He ought n’t to’ve married,” he said solemnly, as he rose to
get a match. ‘Women—lI 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 is n’t a letter! I did n’t see it before,
The postman must have laid it down when I was n’t noticin’, or the
newspaper slipped over it.”

He picked it up and looked at it carefully.

“Tt ’s from hkim/” 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.

“TJ wonder what news there is this time,” he said.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 173



And then he unfolded the letter and read as follows:

“ DoRINCOURT CASTLE

“ My dear Mr. Hobbs

“T 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 andi 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
elseis 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 thingsiam 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 madi thort
i would tell you and Dick right away becaus you would be intrusted so no moré ‘at
present with love from ae

“your old frend “Cerpric Errot (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 exclama-
tion. It had always been his habit to say, “I wed? be jiggered,”
but this time he said, “I av jiggered.” Perhaps he really was jig-
gered. There is no knowing.

« Well,” said Dick, “the whole thing ’s bust up, has n’t it?”
174 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“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 was n’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 agree-
able 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

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 Eng-
land 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

\ vERY few days after the dinner party at the Castle, almost

175
176 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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,
maam, 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 Loy 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 beauti-
fully 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



































il Hey mm i,



































































































































wth

“¢SHALL I BE YOUR BOY, EVEN IF I’M NOT GOING TO BE AN EARL?’ SAID CEDRIC.”
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 179



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 listen-
ing to anything interesting; and by the time the story was finished
he looked quite sober.

“Tt 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—wont he?”

«“ No/” answered the Earl—and he said it so fiercely and loudly
that Cedric quite jumped.

“No?” he exclaimed, in wonderment. ‘““Wont 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 !

”?


180 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

“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, tone and—and I could-n’t be. That was what
made me feel so queer.”

The Earl put his hand on his shoulder and drew him ne

“They shall take nothing from you that I can hold for you,” he
said, drawing his breath hard. ‘‘I wont 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 sne had seen Mr. Hae the
woman who claimed to be Lady Fauntleroy presented herself at the
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 181



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 sori,
as any gentleman ‘ud rec-
kinize with ’alf 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. Pe
Mr. Havisham had noticed, 5
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










Milt
Wi)

U))

Wy

Uy



“ SHE WAS TOLD BY THE FOOTMAN AT THE DOOR
THAT THE EARL WOULD NOT SEE HER.
182 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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.

“Tt ’s the Earl hisself, ma’am!” she said in tremulous awe.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. ~183



When Mrs. Errol entered the drawing-room, a very tall, majes-
tic-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.

“JT 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.

“Jt 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?”

«“]T have seen Mr. Havisham,” Mrs. Errol began, “and he has
told me of the claims which have been made s

“| have come to tell you,” said the Earl, “that they will be inves-
tigated and contested, if a contest can be made. 1 have come to tell
you that the boy shall be defended with all the power of the law.
His rights 4

The soft voice interrupted him.

«He must have nothing that is zo¢f 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 ——"






184 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“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 sel-
dom 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.

“Itis 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


LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 185



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.
“Tam 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 some-
how 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, sympa-
thetic 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
186 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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

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

C): course, as soon as the story of Lord Fauntleroy and the

friend Cedric as an infant in arms,—another as a young man at
Oxford, winning all the honors, and distinguishing himself by writ-
ing 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 ot 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, some-
times 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

187
188 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 sym-
pathy. They wrote those letters as soon as they could after receiv-
ing 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: 1 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 ukin 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 ureiskined. 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 Str: 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, , Sitas Hosss.”
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. oo 189



“Well,” said Mr. Hobbs, “he’s pervided for between us, if he
aint a earl.”

“So he is,” said Dick. ‘Vd ha’ stood by him. Blest if I did n’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, ener-
getic young fellow, with sharp wit and a good temper. He hada
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 fin-
ished looking it over, and when the last boot was polished, he
handed it over to the boy.

“Heére ’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 Dorin-
court 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).”
190 LITILE LORD 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 pict-
ure! That’s what you look at! Se aint no ’ristocrat, s4e aint!”
with withering scorn. ‘She’s no lord’s wife. You may eat me,
if it aint Minna—Mixna/ I’d know her anywheres, an’ so ’d Ben.
Jest ax him.”

Mr. Hobbs dropped into his seat.

“T 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. “Se done it, that ’s who
done it. She was allers up to her tricks; an’ I 'Il tell yer wot come
to me, the minnit I saw her pictur. There was one o’ them papers we
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 191

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 earn-
ing 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 responsi-
bility, 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. | 7

“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 pre-
sented 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 enterpris-
ing 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
Ig2 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 /’// 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 ke 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 Cali-
fornia. 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

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 nad
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
13 : 193

IE is astonishing how short a time it takes for very wonderful
194 LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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, “]
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 investi-
gating 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.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 195



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 con-
trol 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.

“ T 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 ’Ill 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.
196 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“Ves,” 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 ee Ben
took up the hat and marched to the door.

“Tf 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
wont 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.



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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¢aRE YOU QUITE SURE YOU WANT ME?’ SAID MRS. ERROL.”

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LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. £99



—_——

-“ To Court Lodge,” said Thomas to the coachman as he mounted
the box; va you may depend on it, things are taking a unigg-
spected 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.
“Ts 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

fornia, 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 educa-
tion; and Mr. Hobbs had decided that as he himself had left a reliabie
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 feastin g and dancing
and games in the park, and bonfires and fire-works in the evening.

200

B: took his boy and went back to his cattle ranch‘in Cali-
LITILE LORD FAUNTLERGY. 201



“Just like the Fourth of July!” said Lord Fauntleroy. ‘It seems
a pity my birthday was n’t on the Fourth, does n’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 inter-
views 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 stair-
case, 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. “4 of ’em?
Your great-uncle, he must have had a family! Did he raise’em
all?” es .
And he sank into a seat and looked around him with quite an
agitated countenance, until with the greatest difficulty Lord Fauntle-
roy 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
202 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.

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

































“MY GRANDFATHER SAYS THESE ARE MY ANCESTORS,’
SAID FAUNTLEROY.”



Dorincourt Arms, and would
spend half an hour or so wan-
dering about the gallery, star-
ing 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:

“JT would n’t have minded bein’ one of ’em myself!” he said—

which was really a great concession.
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 203



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 every-
thing. 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 sweet-
hearts; 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 herand 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:
204 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



“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 Eng-
land; 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 flut-
tered 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 some-
thing, 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 sug-
gested,— and that was a beginning. And every day he had been
LITILE LORD FAUNTLEROY. 205



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
206 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.



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 beforé 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.
“Ts it, Dearest? I’m so glad!”

And then the Earl put his hand on the child’s shoulder and said
to him:

i Fauntleroy, say to them that you thank them for their kind.
ness,’

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.

“T ’m ever so much obliged to you!” he said, “and—lI 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.”






































































ES A SPEECH TO THE TENANTS.

LORD FAUNTLEROY MAK:

i ,
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. : 209

_ 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 Aim, an’ sort 0’ 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!”

THE END.

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS’

New and Standard Books for Young Readers
for 1895=96.

A New Book by Mrs. Burnett.

TWO LITTLE PILGRIMS’ PROGRESS :

A Story of the City Beautiful. By Mrs. FRANcEs
Hopcson Burnett. Illustrated by R. B. Bircu.
Uniform with ‘‘ Fauntleroy,” etc. Sq. 8vo, $1.50.

The largest and most notable children’s book that Mrs.
Burnett has written since ‘‘ Fauntleroy.” It is a charming story
of a little boy and girl, who, taking their small savings, leave
home to visit the World’s Fair. This is their Pilgrims’ Progress;
and their interesting adventures and the happy ending of it all
Mrs. Burnett tells as no one else can. It is in the author’s best

vein and will take place in the hearts of her readers close beside
“Fauntleroy.”



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.
Beautifully illustrated by Recinatp B. Bircu. Square 8vo, $2.00.

“In ‘ Little Lord Fauntleroy’ we gain another charming child to add to our gallery of juvenile heroes and heroines ; one
awho teaches a great lesson with such truth and sweetness that we part from him with real regret.”—Louisa M. A.cotr.

fey SARA CREWE;
ae Or, What happened at Miss Minchin’s.

NM

Richly and fully illus-
trated by R. B. Birncu. Square 8vo, $1.00, :

“It isastory to linger over in the reading, it is so brightly, frankly, sweetly, and tenderly
written, and to remember and return to. In creating her little gentlewoman, ‘Sara Crewe,’ so fresh
: g g ? 3 2

so simple, so natural, so genuine, and so indomitable, Mrs. Burnett has added another child to
English Fiction.”—-R. H. Sropparp.

LITTLE SAINT ELIZABETH
And Other Stories. With twelve full-page drawings by
ReainaLp B. Bircu. Square 8vo, $1.50.

‘* Four stories different in kind, but alike in grace and spirit..’—Susan Coouipcr.

“One of the most winning and pathetic of Mrs. Burnett's child heroines, The tales which follow
are quite charming.”—Tue ATHENUM,
gq

GIOVANNI AND THE OTHER:

Children who have made stories. With nine full-page illustra-
tions by REGINALD B. BircH. Square 8vo, $1.50.

“Stories beautiful in tone, and style, and color.”—Kats Douatas Wiccan.
‘* There isa tender pathos in these tales and a gentle, loving spirit that gives the book a peculiar

scharm.”—PHILADELPHIA Times.
PICCINO

And Other Child Stories. Fully illustrated by R. B. Bircn.
Square 8vo, $1.50.
‘The history of Piccino’s ‘two days’ is as delicate as one of the anemones that springin the

rock walls facing Piccino’s Mediterranean. The other stories in the book have the charm of
‘their ‘predecessor in material and matter.”—Mrs. Burton Harrison.











Charles Scribner’s Sons’ Books for Young Readers.



Written and Illustrated by Howard Pyle.
ef NEW BOOK JUST PUBLISHED.

THE GARDEN BEHIND THE MOON.

A Real Story of the Moon Angel. Written and illustra-
ted by Howarp Py.e. Square 12mo, $2.00.
Underneath the charm of this original and delightful fairy tale of
Mr. Pyle's is a mystical moral significance which gives it the dignity of
true literature in addition to its interest of adventure. Out of the truth
that great deeds are achieved and high character moulded by entire
spiritual consecration, rather than by direct and interested effort, the
author has evolved a winning and delightful piece of fanciful fiction, and
has illustrated it copiously in his happiest and most characteristically

F
OTHER BOOKS BY MR. PYLE.

THE MERRY ADVENTURES OF
ROBIN HOOD

of Great Renown in Nottinghamshire. With many illustra-
tions. Royal 8vo, $3.00.

poetical vein.



“This superb book is unquestionably the most original and elaborate ever produced by any
American artist. Mr. Pyle has told, with pencil and pen, the complete and consecutive story of
Robin Hood and his merry men in their haunts
in Sherwood Forest, gathered from the old bal-
lads and legends. Mr. Pyle’s admirable illustra-
tions are strewn profusely through the book.” —
Boston TRANSCRIPT.



OTTO OF THE SILVER HAND.

With many illustrations. Royal 8vo, half leather,
$2.00.

5 “The scene of the story is medieval Germany in the time of the feuds
and robber barons and romance. The kidnapping of Otto, his adventures
among rough soldiers, and his daring rescue, make up a spirited and thrilling

story. The drawings are in keeping with the text, and in mechanical and artistic



qualities as well as in literary execution the book must be greeted as one of the

very best juveniles of the year, quite worthy to succeed to the remarkable

: ‘ From “ oft: THE SILVER HAND,”
popularity of Mr. Pyle’s ‘ Robin Hood,’ ”—Curistian Union. : Y P pedureds ey
Charles Scribner’s Sons’ “Books for Young Readers.

The Kanter Girls.

By Mary L. B. Brancu. Illustrated by Helen M. Armstrong.
Square 12mo, $1.50.

The adventures of Janet and Prue, two small sisters, among different peoples |i |]
of the imaginative world—dryads, snow-children, Kobolds, &c.—aided by |} |
their invisible rings, their magic boat, and their wonderful birds, are described by |
the author with great naturalness and a true gift for story-telling. The nu- |, |
merous illustrations are very attractive and in thorough sympathy with the i
text.

se ane |
iiusiated ofl

. 3

actin

a ‘
\

oo!
Sisien



A New Book by Gordon Stables.

FOR LIFE.AND LIBERTY.

A Story of Battle by Land and Sea. By Gorpon Srasues. With 8 full-page illus-
trations. 12mo, $1.50.

The story of an English boy who runs from home and joins the southern army in the late civil
war. He is accompanied by his chum, who enters the navy, and their various adventures in the great
conflict are set forth with great vigor and are unfailing in interest.

OTHER ‘BOOKS BY MR. STABLES.

TO GREENLAND AND THE; WESTWARD WITH

POLE. COLUMBUS.
A Story of Adventure in the Arctic

: : : Illustrated. 12mo, 1.50.
Regions. With 8 full-page illustra-
‘ “The whole story of Columbus’ career is embraced, but
tions. iI2mo, $r. 50. the main interest is focused on the westward voyage and the

‘* More than ordinarily entertaining and it imparts agreeably
a great deal of valuable knowledge.’ —ConGREGATIONALIST.

"TWIXT SCHOOL

romantic incidents of the discovery. The book is admirably
written and is well illustrated.”"--Boston BEacon.

AND TEOREEGE.

A Tale of Self-Reliance. With 8 illustrations. Crown 8vo, $1.50.

Joseph The Dreamer..

By the Author of Jesus the Carpenter. 12mo, $1.50.

The story of Joseph, told in the same popular, interesting, and realistic manner as that of Jesus
in the author’s former book; not only setting forth truthfully and graphically the life of Joseph, but
picturing as well the marvellous state of Egypt in whici he lived.

JESUS THE CARPENTER. By A. Layman. 12mo, $1.50.

*©J think the idea of this book—the aim and the intention—excellent, and the execution beautiful.”—Pror. A. B. Bruce.
Charles Scribner’s Sons’ “Books for Young. Readers.

A New Book by Kirk Munroe.

AT WAR WITH PONTIAC;
Or, The Totem of the Bear. A Tale of Redcoat and Redskin.
By Kirk Munroz. With 8 full-page illustrations by J.
FINNEMORE. I2mo, $1.25. fl
A story of old days in America when Detroit was a frontier town and fii
the shores of Lake Erie were held by hostile Indians under Pontiac. The i
hero, Donald Hester, goes in’search of his sister Edith, who has been cap- F
tured by the Indians. Strange and terrible are his experiences: for he is §
wounded, taken prisoner, condemned to be burned, and contrives to escape. ff
In the end there is peace between Pontiac and the English, and all things
terminate happily for the hero. One dares not skip a page of this enthralling

“THE WHITE CONQUEROR.

A Tale of Toltec and Aztec. By Kirk Munroz. With 8 | | 7/7
full-page illustrations by W. S..Stacey. 12mo, $1.25. ea

“The story is replete with scenes of vivid power; it is full of action and rapid movement; and he must be deficient in recep-
tive faculty who fails to gain valuable historical instruction, along with the pleasure of reading a tale graphically told.”"—Pia-
DELPHIA BULLETIN. ‘

Stories of Literature, Science, and History.

By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN WRIGHT.
A NEW VOLUME JUST ISSUED.









CHILDREN’S STORIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE—166c-1860. 12mo, $1.25.

Miss Wright here continues her attractive presentation of literary history begun in her ‘‘ Chil-
dren’s Stories in English Literature.” Elliot, the translator of the Bible into the English language, .
Irving, Cooper, Prescott, Holmes, Longfellow, Hawthorne, Mrs. Stowe, Whittier, Poe, and Emer-
son are here considered, bringing the history of the subject down to the period of the civil war, and
treated with constant reference to that side of their works and personalities which most nearly ap-
peals to children. .

CHILDREN’S STORIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Two volumes :
TALIESIN TO SHAKESPEARE—SHAKESPEARE TO TENNYSON. I2mo, each, $1.25.

“Tt is indeed a vivid history of the people as well asa story of their literature; and, briefas it is,
the author has so deftly seized on all the salient points, that the child who has read this book will be
more thoroughly acquainted than many a student of history with the life and thought of the cen-
turies over which the work reaches.”——TnHe EVANGELIST.

CHILDREN’S STORIES OF THE GREAT SCIENTISTS. With portraits.
t2mo, $1.25.
“ The author has succeeded in making her pen-pictures of the great scientists as graphic as the

excellent portraits that illustrate the work. Around each name she has picturesquely grouped the
essential features of scientific achievement.’’— Brooktyn Times. Q

CHILDREN’S STORIES IN AMERICAN HISTORY. Illustrated. 12mo,
$1.25.

‘A most delightful and instructive collection of historical events, told in asimple and pleasant
manner. Almost every occurrence in the gradual development of our country is woven into an
attractive story.” —San Francisco Evenine Post.

CHILDREN’S STORIES OF AMERICAN PROGRESS. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

“Miss Wright is favorably known by her volume of well-told ‘Stories in American History;’ and her ‘Stories of American
Progress’ is equally worthy of commendation. Taken together they present a series of pictures of great graphic interest.
The illustrations are excellent.”—Tue Nation.


Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.



G. A. Henty’s Popular Stories for Boys.
NEW VOLUMES FOR 1895-96.

Each, Crown 8vo. Handsomely Illustrated. $1.50.

Mr. Henty, the most popular writer of Books of Adventure in England, adds three new volumes
to his list this fall—books that will delight the thousands of boys who are his ardent admirers.

‘« Mr. Henty's books never fail to interest boy readers. Among writers of stories of adventure he stands in the very first ~
rank.”—Acapemy (London).

‘*No country nor epoch of history is there which Mr. Henty does not know, and what is really remarkable is that he always
writes well and interestingly. Boys like stirring adventures, and Mr. Henty is a master of this method of composition,”—New
Yor« Times.

A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS.

A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes. With 12 full-page illustrations.

Gervaise Tresham, the hero of this story, joins the Order of the Knights of St. John,
and leaving England he proceeds to the stronghold of Rhodes. Subsequently, Gervaise
is made a Knight of the White Cross for valor, while soon after he is appointed com-
mander of a war-galley, and in his first voyage destroys a fleet Lf Moorish corsairs.
During one of his cruises the young knight is attacked on shore, captured after a desperate
struggle, and sold into slavery in Tripoli. He succeeds in escaping, however, and returns
to Rhodes in time to take part in the splendid defence of that fortress. Altogether a
fine chivalrous tale, of varied interest and full of noble daring.

THE TIGER OF MYSORE.

A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib. With 12 full-page illustrations.

Dick Holland, whose father is supposed to be a captive of Tippoo Saib, goes to India
to help him to escape. He joins the army under Lord Cornwallis, and takes part in
the campaign against Tippoo. Afterwards, he assumes a disguise, enters Seringapatam,
the capital of Mysore, rescues Tippoo’s harem from a tiger, and is appointed to high G. A. HENTY.
office by the tyrant. In this capacity Dick visits the hill fortresses, still in search of his
father; and at last he discovers him in the great stronghold of Savandroog. ‘The hazardous rescue through the enemy’s country

is at length accomplished, and the young fellow’s dangerous mission is done.



THROUGH RUSSIAN SNOWS.

A Story of Napoleon’s Retreat from Moscow. With 8 full-page illustra-

tions and a map.

The hero, Julian Wyatt, after several adventures with smugglers, by whom he is handed
over a prisoner to the French, regains his freedom and joins Napoleon’s army in the
Russian campaign, and reaches Moscow with the victorious Emperor. Then, when the
terrible retreat begins, Julian finds himself in the rear guard of the French army, fighting
desperately, league by league, against famine, snow-storms, wolves, and Russians. Ultimately
he escapes out of the general disaster, after rescuing the daughter of a Russian Count; makes
his way to St. Petersburg, and then returns to England. A story with an excellent plot, ex-
A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE CROSS. citing adventures, and splendid historical interests.


“Charles Scribner’s Sons’ Books Jor Young Readers.

G. A. HENTY’S POPULAR STORIES FOR BOYS.

Each, Crown 8vo, handsomely illustrated, $1.50.

IN THE HEART OF THE ROCKIES. A Story of ADVENTURE IN COLORADO.

‘One of the most interesting and attractive stories for boys. It is a tale of adventure thrilling enough for the most
daring readers.” —Boston JourNnaL.

WULF THE SAXON. A Story of THE NorMAN Conquest.

“An unusually realistic picture of the times. The scenes and incidents which Mr. Henty introduces are calculated to
awaken fresh interest in the influence of tae battle of Hastings upon the destiny of mankind.”—Boston Herap.

WHEN LONDON BURNED. A Srory of Restoration Times AND THE GREAT Fire,

“An exciting story of adventure, at the same time dealing with historic truths deftly and interestingly "—.Derrorr
Free Press.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE. A Tate or tHE Hucusnot Wars.

“Exciting enough to interest even the dullest of readers.’? Boston TRANSCRIPT.

THROUGH THE SIKH WAR. A TALE of THE Conquest oF THE Punyaus,

“Not only interesting but instructive. It is related with great spirit and animation.”’—Boston Hera.

A JACOBITE EXILE. Bein tHe Apventures or A YounG ENGLISHMAN IN THE SERVICE OF CHARLES
XII. oF Swepen.

“Remarkable for its thrilling adventures and its interesting historical pictures.””—Herarp AND PreseyTer.

BERIC THE BRITON. A Srory of THE Roman Invasion.

“Tt is a powerful and fascinating romance.’’—Boston Pocr.

IN GREEK WATERS. A Srory oF THE Grecian War oF INDEPENDENCE— 1821-1827,

“It is a stirring narrative, wholesome and stimulating.’’—ConcrEGATIONALIST.

CONDEMNED AS A NIHILIST. A Story of Escape rrom SIBERIA.

‘“‘A narrative absorbing and thrilling. The scenes of Siberian prison-life give the book a peculiar value.’?—CuristiaN
ApvocaTe.

REDSKIN AND COWBOY. A Tate of THE WesTERN PLAINS.

““Though it is full of hairbreadth escapes, none of the incidents are improbable. It is needless to say that the adven-
tures are well told.’”’—San Francisco Curonicte. @

HELD FAST FOR ENGLAND. A Tate or THE Siece of GIBRALTAR.

“Tt is an historical novel, the siege of Gibraltar, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, being the foundation on which
Mr. Henty’s clever action rests.” Newark ADVERTISER.

*.® The above are Mr. Henty’s latest books. A full descriptive list containing all of Mr.
Heuty’s books—now 47 in number —will be sent to any address on application. They are all
attractively illustrated and handsomely bound,
Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.



Czar and Sultan.

The adventures of a British Lad in the Russo-Turkish War of
1877-78. By ARCHIBALD Forpss. Illustrated. 12mo, $2. 00.

“Very fascinating and graphic. Mr. Forbes is a forcible writer, and the present work has the
vigor and intensity associated with his name. _ It is sure to be popular with youthful readers.” —Bos-
TON Beacon.

‘A brilliant and exciting narrative, and the drawings add to its interest and value."—N. Y.
OssERVER.



Books of Adventure by Robert Leighton.

OLAF THE GLORIOUS.

A Story of Olaf Triggvison, King of Norway, A. D.
995-1000. Crown 8vo, with numerous full-page illustra-
tions, $1.50.

THE WRECK OF THE GOLDEN FLEECE.

The Story of a North Sea Fisher Boy. Illustrated.
Crown 8vo, $1.50.

THE THIRSTY SWORD.
A Story of the Norse Invasion of Scotland, 1262-65.
With 8 illustrations and a map. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
THE PILOTS OF POMONA.

A Story of the Orkney Islands. With 8 illustrations
andamap. Crown 8vo, $1.50.







“Mr, Leighton as a writer for boys needs no praise, as his books
place him in the front rank.”—New York Osserver.

Things Will Take a Turn.

By Beatrice Harraben, author of ‘Ships that Pass in the Night.” Illustrated.
12mo, $1,00.

The charm of this tale is its delicate, wistful sympathy. It is the story of a sunny-hearted
child, Rosebud, who assists her grandfather in his dusty, second-hand book-
shop. One cannot help being fascinated by the sweet little heroine, she is
so engaging, so natural; and to love Rosebud is to love all her friends and
enter sympathetically into the good fortune she brought them.

Among the Lawmakers.
By Epmunp ALTon. Illustrated. Sq. 8vo, $1,50.

“The book is a diverting as well as an instructive one. Mr. Aiton was in his early days a
page in the Senate, and he relates the doings of Congress from the point of view he then obtained.
His narrative is easy and piquant, and abounds in personal anecdotes about the great men whom
the pages waited on.”—CuristiAN Union.


Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.



Samuel Adams Drake’s Historical Books.

THE MAKING OF THE OHIO VALLEY STATES. 1660-1837.
- Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.

THE MAKING OF VIRGINIA AND THE MIDDLE COLONIES,
1578-1701. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50,

THE MAKING OF NEW ENGLAND. 1580-1643. With 148
illustrations and with maps. 12mo, $1.50.

THE MAKING OF THE GREAT WEST. 1812-1853. With
145 illustrations and with maps. 12mo, $1.50.

“The author's aim in these books is that they shall occupy a place between ‘the
larger and lesser histories of the lands and of the periods of which they treat, and
that each topic therein shall be treated as a unit and worked out toa clear understand-
ing of its objects and results before passing to another topic. In the furtherance of this
method each subject has its own descriptive notes, maps, plans and illustrations,
the whole contributing to a thorough, though condensed, knowledge of the sub-
ject in hand.”New York Mai anp Express.















The Butterfly Hunters in the Caribbees.

By Dr. Eucens Murray-Aaron. With 8 full-page illustrations. Square 12mo, $2.00.

“The book is written in a very interesting style. The author is a recognized authority on the subjects of which he writes.
He takes a company of young explorers over ground with which he is thoroughly familiar.”—Tue INDEPENDENT.
‘Our author only reproduces the incidents and scenes of his own life as an exploring naturalist in a way to capture the

attention of younger readers. The incidents are told entertainingly, and his descriptions of country and the methods of capture of

butterflies and bugs of rare varieties are full of interest.”’—Cutcaco Inrer-OcEAN.

A New Mexico David.

AND OTHER Stories AND SKETCHES OF THE SouTH West. By Cuartes F, Lummis. Illustrated. 12mo,
$1.25.

‘*Mr, Lummis has lived for years in the land of the Pueblos ; has traversed it in every direction, both on foot and on horse-
back ; and it is a. en-hralling treat set before youthful readers by him in this series of lively chronicles.”—Boston BEacon.



Poems of Childhood by Eugene Field.
LOVE SONGS OF CHILDHOOD. 16mo, $1.00.

WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM. By Eucene Fiexp. 16mo, $1.00.

“His poems of childhood have gone home, not only to the hearts of children, but to
the heart of the country as well, and he is one of the few contributors to that genuine

EUGENE FIELD. literature of childhood which expresses ideas from the standpoint of a child:”—Tuz OurLoox.
: Ch




Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.



The Wagner Story Book.

Firelight Tales of the Great Music Dramas, By Wituiam Henry Frost. Z
Illustrated by Sipvey R. BuRLEIGH, I2mo, $1.50. ;
‘SA successful attempt to make the romantic themes of the music dramas intelligible to

young readers. The author has full command of his subject, and the style is easy, gracetul and
simple.”"—Boston BEAcon.



RICHARD WAGNER.

Robert Grant’s Two Books for Boys.

JACK HALL: Or, tHE ScHoot Days or an Ameri- ; JACK IN THE BUSH: Or, a Summer on a SAL+
can Boy. Illustrated by F. G. Atrwoop. Mon River. Illustrated by F. T. Merrie.

I2mo, $1.25.
amo, $1.25. d
meee “A clever book for boys. It is the story of the camp
‘* A better book for boys has never been written. It is

: - ife of i i yer 5
pure, clean and healthy, and has throughout a vigorous action life of a lot of boys, and is destined to please every boy reader

that holds the reader breathlessly.’?Boston HERALD. It is attractively illustrated.’—Derrorr Free Press.

3 A ie. ae - : : = ch
‘A capital story for boys, wholesome and interesting. It An ideal story of out-door life and genuine experiences.

reminds one of Tom Brown,”—BosTon Transcript. ~-BosTon TRAVELLER.

Illustrated Library of Travel.
Edited by BAYARD TAYLOR.

Per set, six volumes, 12mo, $6.00. Each with many illustrations. Sold sep-
arately, per volume, $1.25.

Pg PF @ JAPAN IN OUR DAY.
Sagat aemflea een] eaeee| TRAVELS IN ARABIA.
cea ee See it..| TRAVELS IN SOUTH AFRICA.
HAN «CENTRAL ASIA.
THE LAKE REGION OF CENTRAL
AFRICA.
SIAM, THE LAND OF THE WHITE

ELEPHANT.

Each volume is complete in itself, and contains,
first, a brief preliminary sketch of the country to
which it is devoted; next, such an outline of pre-
vious explorations as may be necessary to explain what has been achieved by later ones; and finally,
a condensation of one or more of the most important narratives of recent travel, accompanied with
illustrations of the scenery, architecture, and life of the races, drawn only from the most authentic
sources,

“‘ Authenticated accounts of countries, peoples, modes of living and being, curiosities in natural history, and personal adven-
ture in travels and explorations, suggest a rich fund of solid instruction combined with delightful entertainment. The editorship,
by one of the most observant and well-traveled men of modern times, at once secures the high character of the ‘ Library ’ in every
particular.”— Tug Sunpay Scuooi Times.

PAPppe ety

RAV f

Paar FLLusrearay
ENTRALICENTRAI
asia [arnica PPRABIAUAPAN|
SAVARD TAYUORE SYA RD o




\

Charles Scribner’s Sons’ Books for Young Readers.



The Norseland Series.
BY H. H. BOYESEN.

NORSELAND TALES. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.26.
BOYHOOD IN NORWAY : Ning Stories or Deeps or THE Sons
OF THE Vikincs. With 8 illustrations. I2mo, $1.25

AGAINST HEAVY ODDS, anp A Feartess Trio. With 13 full-
page illustrations by W. L. Taytor. 12mo, $1.25.

THE MODERN VIKINGS: Srortes of Lire AND SPORT IN THE
Norsetanp. With many full-page illustrations. I2mo, $1.25.
The four above volumes in a box, $5.00,

“Charmingly told stories of boy-life in the Land of the Midnight Sun, illustrated
with pictures giving a capital idea of the incidents and scenes described. The tales
havea delight all their own, as they tell of scenes and sports and circumstances so
different from thos2 of our American life."—N. Y. Osserver.





Two Books by Rossiter Johnson.

THE END OF A RAINBOW. An American Story. Mlustrated. 1amo,
$1.50. :





S





\

SS
S
SS

“Tt will be read with breathless interest. It is interesting and full of boyish experiences.”"—
N. Y. Inperenvenr.

PHAETON ROGERS. A Nove. or Boy Lire. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.








SSS




ANS
CERDlE

























Lo ““Mr, Johnson has shown in this book capabilities of a really high quality, for his story
abounds with humor, and there are endless bits of quiet fun in it, which bring out the
Yy a hearty laugh, evea when it is read by older people. It is a capital book for boys.”—New
Le L iy York Times,
oo

Mrs. Burton Harrison’s Tales.
BRIC-A-BRAC STORIES.

With 24 illustrations by Watter CRang. I2mo, $1.50.

“When the little boy, for whose benefit the various articles of bric-a~brac in his
father's drawing-room relate stories appropriate to their several native countries,
exclaims at the conclusion of one of them: ‘I almost think there can’t be a better
one than that!’ the reader, of whatever age, will probably feel inclined to agree
withhim. Upon the whole, it isto be wished that every boy and girl might become
acquainted with the contents of this book.” —Jutian HawtTuorns.

THE OLD FASHIONED FAIRY BOOK.
Illustrated by Rosina Emer. 16mo, $1.25.

“The little ones, who so willingly go back with us to ‘Jack the Giant Killer,’
‘Bluebeard,’ and the kindred stories of our childhood, will gladly welcome Mrs.
Burton Harrison’s ‘ Old-Fashioned Fairy Tales.’ The graceful pencil of Miss Ro-
sina Emmet has given a pictorial interest to the book.” —Franx R, Stockton.





FROM ‘‘ BRIC-A-BRAC STORIES.??
Reduced.
Charles Scribner's Sons’ Books for Young Readers.

Frank R. Stockton’s Books for the Young.

“His books for boys and girls are classics.?»—NEWARK ADVERTISER.
THE CLOCKS OF RONDAINE, anv Otuer Stories. With 24 illustrations
by Brasuriztp, Rocers, Bear, and others. Square 8vo, $1.50.

PERSONALLY CONDUCTED. Illustrated by
PENNELL, Parsons, and others. Sq. 8vo, $2.00.

THE STORY OF VITEAU. Illustrated by R.



B. Birch. 12mo, $1.50.
(O63) A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP. With 20 illustrations,
USI),
Soe 12mo, $1.50.
Oy, THE FLOATING PRINCE AND OTHER FAIRY ‘
y TALES, Illustrated. Square 8vo, $1.50. (=
THE TING-A-LING TALES. Illustrated. r2mo, FRANK R. STOCKTON,

$1.00.

ROUNDABOUT RAMBLES IN LANDS OF FACT AND FICTION.
Illustrated. Square 8vo, $1.50.



TALES OUT OF SCHOOL. With nearly 200 illustrations, Square
8vo, $1.50. 7
“The volumes are profusely illustrated and contain the most entertaining sketches in
Mr. Stockton’s most entertaining manner.’’—Curistian Union.

Edward Eggleston’s Two Popular Books.

THE HOOSIER SCHOOL-BOY.

Illustrated. I2mo, $1.00.

‘{* The Hoosier School-Boy’ depicts some of the charac-
teristics of boy-life years ago on the Ohio; characteristics,
however, that were not peculiar to that section. The story
presents a vivid and interesting picture of the difficulties which

QUEER STORIES FOR BOYS AND
GIRLS. — :2mo, $1.00.

“A very bright and attractive little volume for young
readers, The stories are fresh; breezy, and healthy, with a
good point to them and a good, sound American view of life
and the road to success. The book abounds in good feeling

in those days beset the path of the youth aspiring for an edu-

and good sense, and is written in a style of homely art.””—In-
cation.”’"—Cuicaco Inrsr-Ocean.

DEPENDENT.

Evening Tales.

Done into English from the French of Frederic Ortoli, by
Harris. 1I2mo, $1.00.

JOEL CHANDLER

“Tt is a veritable French ‘ Uncle Remus’ that Mr. Harris has discovered in Frederic Ortoli. The
book has the genuine piquancy of Gallic wit, and will be sure to charm American children. Mr. Har-
ris’s version is delightfully written.’’—Boston Beacon.

Hans Brinker:

Or, The Silver Skates. A Story of Life in Holland. By Mary
Mapes Dodge. With 60 illustrations. 12mo, $1.50.

“The author has shown, in her former works for the young, a very rare ability to meet their
wants; but she has produced nothing better than this charming tale—alive with incident and action,
adorned rather than freighted with useful facts, and moral without moralization.”’—Tus Nation.


Charles Scribner’s Sons’ Books for Young Readers.



Thomas Nelson Page’s Two Books.

AMONG THE CAMPS: Or, Younc Peopie’s Stories OF THE WAR.
With 8 full-page illustrations. Square, 8vo, $1.50.

“They are five in number, each having reference to some incident of the Civil
War. A vein of mingled pathos and humor runs through them all, and greatly
heightens the charm of them. It is the early experience of the author himself,
doubtless, which makes his pictures of life in a Southern home during the great
Struggle so vivid and truthful.”—Tue Nation.

TWO LITTLE CONFEDERATES. With 8 full-page illustrations
by Kemete and Repwoop, Square, 8vo, $1.50.

“Mr, Page was ‘raised’ in Virginia, and he knows the ‘darkey’ of the South
better than any one who writes about them. And he knows ‘ white folks,’ too,
and his stories, whether for old or young people, have the charm of sincerity and
beauty and reality.”.—Harper’s Youno Peorte.



W. O. Stoddard’s Books for Bo

DAB KINZER. A Story or A Growine Boy. THE QUARTET. A Sgquet to Das Kinzer,
SALTILLO BOYS. AMONG THE LAKES. WINTER FUN.

Five volumes, 12mo, in a box, $5.00. Sold separately, each, $1.00.
“William O. Stoddard has written capital books for boys. His ‘Dab Kinzer’ and ‘The Quartet? are among the best speci-
mens of ‘Juveniles’ produced anywhere. In his latest volume, ‘Winter Fun,’ Mr. Stoddard gives free rein to his remarkable

gift of story-telling for boys. Healthful works of this kind cannot be too freely distributed among the little men of America,”
—New York Journat or Commerce.

Little People

And their Homes in Meadows, Woods, and Waters. By STELLA Louise Hook.
Illustrated by Dan Bearp and Harry Bearb. One volume, square 8vo, $1.50.
“A delightful excursion for the little ones into the fairy-land of nature, tell'ng all about the little people and all in such

pleasant language and such pretty illustrations that the little readers will be charmed as much as they will be instructed by the
book.”7—New York EvancEist. :

Two Books by Robert Louis Stevenson.

THE BLACK ARROW:

A Tale of the Two Roses. By R. L. Stevenson. With
12 full-page illustrations by Witt H. Low and ALFRED
BRENNAN. 1210, $1.25.

“The story is one of the strongest pieces of romantic writing ever done by Mr. Stevenson.”

—Tue Boston Times,
- KIDNAPPED:

Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the
_ Year 1751. By R. L. STEVENSON. 12mo, with 16 full-page
illustrations, $1.50.

‘*Mr. Stevenson has never appeared to greater advantage than in ‘Kidnapped.’ —Tue
Nation. ‘


Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.




Kent Hampden.

A Story of a Boy. By Repecca Harpine Davis. _ IIlus-
trated by Rurus F. ZocBaum. 12mo, $1.00.

Mrs, Davis’s story of the heroic lad, who by his courage, faith, and
persistency freed his father’s good name from suspicion and overcame his
enemies, is a valuable and entertaining study of life in West Virginia
seventy years ago,

“ Sharply drawn incidents and a crisp narrative make the book interesting.’’—Boston’
JournaL.’? g a

Two Books of Sports and Games.

THE AMERICAN BOY’S HANDY BOOK;

Or, What to Do and How to De It. By Dantet C.
BearD. With 360 illustrations by the author.
Square 8vo, $2.00.






Os
ie

8







BEX
by __ |‘ The book has this great advantage over its predecessors, that most of the games,
x tricks, and other amusements described in it, are new. It treats of sports adapted to
¥ all seasons of the year; it is practical, and it is well illustrated.’?—New York
Tripune.

THE AMERICAN GIRL’S HANDY BOOK.

By Lena and Abpea B. Bearp. With over 500
illustrations by the authors. Square 8vo, $2.00.

Loutsa M. Atcort: ‘I have putitin my list of good and useful books for
young people, as [have many requests for advice from my little friends and their
anxious mothers. I am most happy to commend your very ingenious and enter-
Ii ce taining book.”







The Boys’ Library of Pluck and Action.

Iustrated. Four volumes, 12mo, in a box, $5.00. Sold separately, per volume,
$1.50. : as =

The purpose of ‘‘The Boy’s Library of Pluck
and Action” was to bring together the representative
and most popular books of four of the best known
writers for young people. Each of these books is
fully described elsewhere in this catalogue. The
volumes are beautifully illustrated and are uniformly
bound,

ol



TH BOY EMIGRANTS. By Noas Brooxs. Perec peersaftieesees tet
PHAETON ROGERS. By Rossiter JouNson. L
A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP. By F. R. Stockton.
‘HANS BRINKER. By Mrs. Mary M. Dopae.-
Charles Scribner’s Sons’ Books jor Young Readers.



Stories for Boys.

By Richarp Harpine Davis. With 6 full-page illustra-
tions. 12mo, $1.00

Contents: The Reporter who made himself King—Midsummer Pi-
rates—Richard Carr’s Baby, a Football Story—The Great Tri-Club
Tennis Tournament—The Jump at Corey’s Slip—The Var Bibber
Baseball Club—The Story of a Jockey.

“Tt will be astonishing indeed if youths of all ages are not fascinated with these
"Stories for Boys.’ Mr. Davis knows infallibly what will interest his young readers.”
—Bosron Beacon.



RICHARD HARDING DAVIS,

Marvels of Animal Life Series.















































By Cuartes F. Hotper. Three volumes, 8vo,
each profusely illustrated. Singly, $1.753
the Set, $5.00.

THE IVORY KING. A Poputar History or TH: ELE~
PHANT AND ITS ALLIES,























































































































“The author talks in a lively and pleasant way about white
elephants, rogue elephants, baby elephants, trick elephants, of the
elephant in war, pageantry, sports and games. A charming accession
to books for young people.’?—Cutcaco Inrerior.

MARVELS OF ANIMAL LIFE,

‘Mf. Holder combines his description of these odd creatures with
stories of his own adventures in pursuit of them in many parts of the
world. These are told with much spirit, and add greatly to the fasci-
nation of the book.’”—Worcester Spy.

LIVING LIGHTS. A Poputar Account of PHospHor-
ESCENT ANIMALS AND VEGETABLES.

“A very curious branch of natural history is expounded in most
agreeable style by this delightful book. He has revealed a world of
new wonders.”’—PuHILADELPHIA BULLETIN.



FROM ‘}THE IVORY KING.”

Reduced. White Cockades °

An Incident of the “Forty-five.” By Epwarp I. STEVENSON. 12mo, $1.00.

“A bright historical tale. The scene is Scotland ; the time that of Prince Charles’ rebellion. The hero is a certain gallant
young nobleman devoted to the last of the Stuarts and his cause. The action turns mainly upon the hiding, the hunting, and the
narrow escapes of Lord Geofirey Armitage from the spies and soldiers of the King.””—New York Mair anp Express.



Prince Peerless.

A Fairy-Folk Story Book. By MarcareT Cotuer (Madam Gelletti Di Cadilhac).
Illustrated by John Collier. 12mo, $1.25.

“ More admirable and fascinating a fairy-story book we have not lately set eyes upon. The stories are most airily conceived
and gracefully executed.””—Hartrorp Post.
Charles Scribner’s Sons’ ‘Books for Young Readers.



- Heroes of the Olden Time.

By James BALDWIN. Three volumes, 12mo, each
beautifully illustrated. Singly, $1.50;
the set, $4.00.

A STORY OF THE GOLDEN AGE. Illustrated
* by Howarp Py.e.

“Mr. Baldwin's book is redolent with the spirit of the Odyssey, that glo-
rious primitive epic, fresh with the dew of the morning of time. It is an unal-
loyed pleasure to read his recital of the adventures of the wily Odysseus. How-
ard Pyle’s illustrations render the spirit of the Homeric age with admirabie
felicity.”—Pror. H. H. Bovesen.



THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED. | Illustrated by Howarp Pyte.

“ The story of ‘Siegfried’ is charmingly told. The author makes up the st r’ r m the various myths ina fascinating
‘way which cannot fail to interest the reader. It is as enjoyable as any fairy tale.?”—Hartrorp Courant.
y yoy y lary

THE STORY OF ROLAND. | Illustrated by R. B. [ircn.

“Mr. Baldwin has culled from a wide range of epics, French, Italian, and German, and has once more proved his aptitude
as a story-teller for the young.”.—Tue Nation. ,

The Boy’s Library of Legend and Chivalry.

Edited by Sipney Lanter, and richly illustrated’ by Frepericxs, BENsELL, and
Kappes. Four volumes, cloth, uniform binding, price per set, $7.00. Sold
separately, price per volume, $2.00.

Mr. Lanhier’s books present to boy readers the old
5g BOP English classics of history and legend in an attract-
= ; ive form. While they are stories of action and

stirring incident, they teach those lessons which
manly, honest boys ought to learn.

THE BOY’S KING ARTHUR.
THE BOY’S FROISSART.



















ne BoyMlcBorh Bel ica

Pere io) ee

































a aa lace ; 4
Bath Da Bod Soy :
nell Lonel THE BOY’S PERCY.
va eCUMIRLE GeNMUHINL cent
eee | re | gee fj) THE KNIGHTLY LEGENDS OF
OST AUN Sah WALES.
re Dire ITED DITED. ! g ESO ; ie “ Amid all the strange and fanciful scenery of these stories,
GNSS character and ideals of character remain at the simplest and
RH TRIB CRUBNENG SCHON 2 purest. The romantic history transpires in the healthy atmos-
5 i MZ OST phere of the open air on the green earth beneath the open sky.’







eae ~-Tue INDEPENDENT.

2
ee oe ee ee ne eens |B Pepe ; Eyae

Charles Scribner's Sons’ “Books for Young Readers. -»

Two Books oe Henry M. Stanic y

MY DARK COMPANIONS
And Their Strange Stories. With 64 illustrations. 8vo, $2.c

“The following legends,” says Mr. Stanley in his introduction, ‘are the choicest and most
curious of those that were related to me during seventeen years, and which have not been hith-
erto published in any of my books of travel." There are in all nineteen stories, new and striking
in motive and quaint in language.

MY KALULU.

Prince, King, and Slave. A Story of Central Africa. By
Henry M. SranLey. One volume, 12mo, new edition,
with many illustrations, $1.50.



HENRY M. STANLEY.

-continent in which its scenes are laid.’,New York Times.

“Tf the young reader is fond of strange adventures, he will find enough in this volume to delight him all winter, and he will

|
. |
‘*A fresh, breezy, stirring story for youths, interesting in itself and full of information regarding life in the interior of the |
|
ibe hard to please who i is not charmed by its graphic pages.”—BosTon JourNAL. |

|



Jules Verne’s Greatest Work. _ - i
‘THE EXPLORATION OF THE WORLD.”: |

“ML. Verne’s scheme in this work is to tell fully how man has made
acquaintance with the worl Id in which he lives, to combine into a single work in-
three volumes the wonderful stories of all the great explorers, navigators, %
travelers who have sought out, one after another, the once uttermost ‘par. s of
the earth.”—Tue New York EVENING Post,






The three volumes in a set, $7.50; singly, $2.50. °

FAMOUS TRAVELS AND TRAVELLERS:’

With over too full-page illustrations, | maps, ete., 8vo, $2.50.

THE GREAT NAVIGATORS OF THE XVHITH
CENTURY.

“With 96 full-page illustrations and 19 maps, 8vo, $2. 50.

THE GREAT EXPLORERS OF THE XIXTH
CENTURY.

With over roo full-page illustrations, fac-similes, etc., 8vo, $2 8







Jules Verne’s Stories, Uniform Illustrated Editio:

Nine volumes, 8vo, extra cloth, with over 750 full-page illustrations. Price, per set, in a vux,
$17.50. Sold also in separate volumes. i :







Micuazt Strocorr; or, The Courier of the Czar, $2.00. A Fioa
Runners, $2.00. Hecror Servapac, $2.00. A JouRNEY TO THE CENTRE
tHE EartH TO THE Moon Direct In Ninety-seven Hours, Twenty Minut
$2.00. Dick Sanps, $2.00. Tue Steam House, $2.00. “THe Gianr R
ISLAND, $2.50.














i