UP-TO-DATE SERIES
SERIES A, No. 3
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.






UP-TO-DATE SERIES
Series A, No. 3
LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY
FRANCES H. BURNETT
arranged by A. HULSMAN
FIFTH EDITION
L. C. G. MALMBERG NIJMEGEN • 'S-HERTOGENBOSCH - ANTWERPEN



(DEPOT O NHXPUBL V KA J



BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL NOTES.
Frances Eliza Hodgson was born at Manchester in 1849. Hete she gained her knowledge of Lancashire scènes and dialect, of which she hos made abundant use in her novels. In 65 she went with her family to Tenessee in the United States, where she soon began her career ets. an. author by writing stories for American magazines.
"Thai Loss 0' Lowriè's", first published in Scribner's Magazine, and then separately in 77, made her reputation; which was confirmed by every one of its fine, but not numerous, successors. "Haworth's" appeared in 79, "A Fair Barbarian" in 81; "Little Lord Fauntleroy" (also dramatized) in 86; "A Lady of Quality" (also dramatized) in 96; "His Grace of Osmonde" in 97; and "The Making of a Marchioness" in 1901. In 1873 she married Doctor Burnett. Though still considered an American author, she has been living many years in England where, in 1900, she married
v



Mr. Stefhen Townsend. — Through all her books, hardly ever appealing to the stronger passions, runs a struin of tenderness and true feeling, which reach perfection in "Little Lord Fauntleroy", and make it one of the finest books of child-character. As a novel it has been read by hundreds of thousands; as a drama it has been gazed at by as many eager eyes; it certainly will outlive its author, and continue its benificent cureer for many years to come; teaching the lesson that the little Lord's mother taught her child: "Ceddie, only be good, only be brave, only be kind and true always, and then you will never hurt any one; and you may help many; and the big world may be better because my little child was born. And that is best of all: that the world should be better because a man has lived."
A. HULSMAN.
VI



LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.
IN AMERICA.
Cedric loses his papa*
Cedric himself knew nothing whatevef about it. It had never been even mentioned to him. He knew that his papa had been an Englishman, because his mamma had told him so; but then his papa had died when he was so little a boy that he could not remember very much about him, except that he was big, and had blue eyes and a long moustache, and that it was a splendid thing to be carried around the room on his shoulder. Since his papa's death, Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his mamma about him. When his father was ill, Cedric had been sént 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 her eyes looked large and mournful, and she was dressed in black.
7



"Dearest," said Cedric (his papa had called her that always, and so the little boy had learned to say it), "dearest, is my papa better ?"
He feit her arms tremble, and so he turned his curry head and looked in her face. There was something in it that made him feel that she was going to cry.
"Dearest," he said: "is he well ?"
Then suddenly his loving heart told him that he'd better put both his arms around her neck and kiss her again and again; 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."
A very lonely family.
Then, little as he was, he understood that his big, handsome young papa would not come back any more; that he was dead, as he had heard of other people being, although he could not comprehend exactly what it was.
Really, they had no one left but each other. His mother was an orphan, and had been living as companion to a rich old lady, when Captain Cedric Errol met her, and was so pleased with her in every way, that he married her shortly afterwards.
One who was very angry about this marriage was the Captain's father, who lived in England,
8



and was a very rich and important old nobleman, with a very bad temper, and a violent dislike to America and Americans.
He had two sons older than Captain Cedric ; and it was the law that the elder of these sons should inherit the family title and estates *); if the eldest son died, the next one would be heir ; so though he was a member of a rich family, there was little chance that the Captain would be rich himself.
When the Earl, his jather, heard about his marriage with an American girl, he was furious. He wrote to his son, and ordered him nëver to come near his old home again. He told him he might live as he pleased, and die where he pieased, but he should be cut off from his family for ever.
So little Cedric and his mother led a very lonely life indeed, though they did not feel its loneliness, for they were splendid companions together.
What Cedric was like.
Cedric's father had been a fine, strong, graceful figure ; kind, brave and generous, he seemed to have the power to make every one love him. His mother was gentle, tender, noble, and very lovely. Cedric appeared to have received all those gifts at once. He was such a sturdy, handsome, friendly child, that there was not a person in the neighbourhood—even to the groceryman at the corner, who was considéred the
*) estates = dominions.
9



crossest creature alive—who was not pleased to see him, and speak to him ; even the ladies stopped their carriages to speak to him, and were charmed with bis cheerful, fearless, quaint way of making friends, and talking to them as if he had known them always.
But his best friend, of course, was his mother. He had always seen that his papa watched over her, and took great care of her, and so, when he knew that his papa would come back no more, he thought that he must do what he could, to make. her happy. Thus he became so much of a companion for his mother that she scarcely cared for any other. They used to walk together and talk together and play together. When he was quite a little fellow he learned to read ; and after that he used to lie on the hearthrug, in the evening, and read aloud—sometimes stories, and sometimes big books, 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, indeed," said Mary to the groceryman, "nobody could help laughing at the queer ways of him—and his old-f ashioned sayings! Didn't he come into my kitchen the night the new president was nominated and stand before the fire, looking like a picture, with his hands in his small pockets, an' his innocent bit of a face as serious as a judge ? An' says he to me : 'Mary/
10



says he, T'm very mueh int'rusted in the 'lection,' !) says he. 'Fm a 'publican, 2) an' so is Dearest. Are you a 'publican, Mary ?' 'Not a bit,' says I; T'm the best o' democrats !' An' he looks up at me with a look that would go to your heart, and says he : 'Mary,' says he, 'the country will go to ruin.' An' never a day since then has he let go by without arguing with me to change my politics."
Mary was very fond of him, and very proud of him, too. She had been with his mother ever since he was born ; and, after his father's death, had been cook and housemaid and nurse and everything else. She was proud of his graceful, strong little body and his pretty manners, especially proud of the bright curly hair which waved over his forehead and feil in charming locks on his shoulders.
"Aristocratie?" she would say, 'T'd like to see the child on Fifth Avenue 3) that looks like him an' steps out as handsome as himself. An' every man, woman, and child looking after him in his black velvet skirt made out of the mistress's old gown; an' his üttle head up, an' his curly hair flying an' shining. It's like a young lord he looks."
Cedric did not know that he looked like a young lord; he did not know what a lord was.
l) infrusted in the 'lection = interested in the election. *) 'publican = republican.
») Fifth Avenue = oneof the aristocratiestreetsof ^ew-York.
II



Cedric and the groceryman.
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 waggon. Cedric was fond of the milkman and the baker and the applewoman, but he liked Mr. Hobbs best of all, and was on terms of such intimacy with him that he went to see liim 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, i) for instance. When they began to talk abóut the Fourth of July there really seemed no end to it. Mr. Hobbs had a very bad opinion of "the Britsh," and he told the whole story of the Revolution, relating very wonderful and patriotic stories about the villainy of the enemy, and the bravery of the Revolutionary heroes, and he even generously repeated part of the Declaration of Independence. Cedric was so excited that his eyes shone and his cheeks were red and he could hardry wait to eat his dinner after he went home, he was so anxious to teil his mamma. It was, perhaps, Mr. Hobbs who
l) On the fourth of July, 1776, the United States declared tnemselves independant.
12



gave him his first interest in politics. Mr. Hobbs was fond of reading the newspapers, and so Cedric heard a great deal about what was going on in Washington ; and Mr. Hobbs would teil him whether the President was doing his duty or not. And once, when there was an election, the country might have been wrecked but for *) Mr. Hobbs and Cedric. Mr. Hobbs took him to see a great torchüght procession, and many of the men who carried torches remembered afterwards 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.
The great change in his life.
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 on the day it happened he had been talking to Mr. Hobbs about England and the Queen; and Mr. Hobbs had said some very severe things about the aristocracy, being specially indignant against earls and marquises. It had been a hot morning; and after playing soldiers with some friends of his, Cedric had gone into the store to rest, and had found Mr. Hobbs looking very fierce over a piece of the Illustrated London News, which contained a picture of some court ceremony.
"Ah," he said, "ttetf* the way they go on
l) If Mr. H. and Cedr. had not prevented it.
13



now; but they'11 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.
"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! 1*11 have no grasping tyrants sittin' 'round on my biscuit-barrels!"
And he looked around proudly and mopped his forehead.
"Perhaps they wouldn't be earls if they knew any better," said Cedric, feeling some vague sympathy for their unhappy condition.
"Wouldn't they !" said Mr. Hobbs. "They just glory in it! It's in 'em. They're a bad lot."
They were in the midst of their conversation, when Mary appeared. Cederic thought she had come to buy some sugar, perhaps, but she had not. She looked almost pale and as if she were excited about something.
"Come home, darling," she said; "the mistress is wanting you."
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."
14



He was surprised to see Mary staring at him, and he wondered why she kept shaking her head.
"What's the matter, Mary ?" he said. "Is it the hot weather ?"
"No," said Mary, "but there's strange things happening to us."
When he reached his own house there was a coupé i) standing before the door, and some one was in the üttle parlour talking to his mamma. Mary hurried him upstairs and put on his best summer suit of cream-coloured flannel with the red scarf around the waist, and combed out bis curly locks.
When he was dressed, he ran downstairs and went into the parlour. A tall, thin old gentleman, with a sharp face, was sitting in an arm-chair. His mother was standing near by and he saw that there were tears in her eyes.
"Oh, Ceddie!" she cried out, and ran to her üttle boy and caught him in her arms and kissed him in a frightened, troubled way. "Oh, Ceddie, darling I"
The tall old gentleman rose from his chair and looked at Cedric with his sharp eyes. He rubbed bis 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." Cedric's friends.
There was never a more amazed little boy
*) coupé = four-wheeled carriage for two.
15



than Cedric during the week that followed ; there was never so strange or so unreal a week. In the first place, the story his mamma told him was a very curious one. He was obliged to hear it two or three times bef ore he could understand it. It began with earls ; his grandpapa, whom he had never seen, was an earl; and his eldest uncle, if he had not been killed by a fall from his horse, would have been an earl, too, in time ; and after his death, his other uncle would have been an earl, if he had not died suddenly, in Rome, of a fever. After that, his own papa, if he had lived, would have been an earl; but since they all had died and only Cedric was left, it appeared that he was to be an earl after his grandpapa's death—and for the present he was Lord Fauntleroy.
He turned quite pale when he was first told of it.
"Oh ! Dearest!" he said, "I should rather not be an earl. None of the boys are earls. Can't I not be one ?"
But it seemed to be unavoidable. And when, that evening, they sat together by the open window looking out into the shabby i) street, be and his mother had a long talk about it. Cedric sat on his footstool, clasping one knee in his favourite attitude and wearing a bewildered 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.
*) shabby = poor.
16



"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 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. 'T'm afraid he'11 miss me, and I shall miss him. And I shall miss them all."
When Mr. Havisham—who was the family lawyer of the Earl of Dorincourt, and who had been sent by him to bring Lord Fauntleroy to England—came the next day, Cedric heard many things. But, somehow, it did not console him to hear that he was to be a very rich man when he grew up, and that he would have castles there, and great parks and deep mines and grand estates and tenantry. i) He was troubled about his friend, Mr. Hobbs, and he went to see Mm at the store soon after breakfast, in great anxiety of mind.
He foünd him reading the morning paper, and he approached him with a grave demeanour. He really feit 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'!"
') tenantry = the various people who hold lands or houses from the same person ; Dntch : pachters.
2. Up-to-Date Series A III.



"Good-morning," said Cedric.
He did not climb up on the high stool as usual, but sat down on a biscuit-box and clasped his knee, and was so süent for a few moments that Mr. Hobbs finally looked up mquiringly over the top of his newspaper.
"Hello !" he said again.
Cedric gathered all his strength of mind together.
"Mr. Hobbs," he said, "do you remember what we were talking about yesterday morning ?"
"Well," replied Mr. Hobbs,—"seems to me it was England."
"Yes," said Cedric ; "but just when Mary came for me, you know ?"
Mr. Hobbs rubbed the back of his head.
"We was mentioning Queen Victoria and the aristocracy."
"Yes," said Cedric, rather hesitatingly, "and
and earls; don't you know ?"
"Why, yes," returned Mr. Hobbs; "we did touch 'em up i)a little ; that's so !"
Cedric flüshed up to the curly hair on his forehead. Nothing so embarrassing as this had ever happened to him in his life.
"You said," he proceeded, "that you wouldn't have them sitting 'round 2) on jour biscuit barrels."
"So I did !" returned Mr. Hobbs, stoutly. "And I meant it. Let 'm try it—that's all!"
») touch them up = abuse them, call them names. ) round = around.
18



"Mr. Hobbs," said Cedric, "one is sitting on this box now!"
Mr. Hobbs abnost jumped out of his chair.
"What!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," Cedric announced, with due modesty ; "I am one—or I am going to be. I sha'n't deceive you."
Mr. Hobbs looked agitated. He rosé up suddenly and went to look at the thermometer.
"The mercury's J) got into your head!" he exclaimed, turning back to examine his young friend's countenance. "It is a hot day! How do you feel ? Got any pain ? When did you begin to feel that way ?"
He put his big hand on the little boy's hair. This was more embarrassing than ever.
"Thank you," said Ceddie ; 'T'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 not. We shall have to make the best 2) of it, Mr. Hobbs.
') Mercury is used in thermometers to indicate the temperature; so the mercury has got into your head — the heat has affected your head.
') to make the best of it = to accept it, and suffer by it as little as possible ; Dutch : er ons in moeten schikken.
19



Mr. Havisham came all the way from England to teil 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 irregular hand.
"I couldn't easily remember it, so I wrote it down on this," he said. And he read aloud slowly : "John Arthur Molyneux Errol, Earl of Dorincourt." That is his name, and he lives in a castle—in two or three castles, I think. And my papa, who died, was his youngest son ; and I shouldn't have been a lord or an earl if my papa hadn't died ; and my papa wouldn't have been an earl if his two brothers hadn't died. But they all died, and there is no one but me—no boy— and so I have to be one; and my grandpapa has sent for me to come to England."
Mr. Hobbs seemed to grow hotter and hotter. He mopped bis 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 biscuit-box, and saw that he was not changed at all, but was simply as he had been the day before, all this information about the nobility bewildered him. He was all the more bewildered because Cedric gave it with such simplicity, and plainly without realising himself how stupendous it was.
20



"Wha—what did you say your name was ?" Mr. Hobbs inquired.
"It's Cedric Errol, Lord Fauntleroy," answered Cedric. "That was what Mr.Havisham called me. He said when I went into the room: 'And so this is little Lord Fauntleroy!' "
"Well," said Mr. Hobbs, 'T'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.
"England is a long way off, isn't it ?" Cedric asked.
"It's across the Atlantic Ocean," Mr. Hobbs answered.
"That's the worst of it," said Cedric. "Perhaps I shall not see you again for a long time. I don't like to think of that, Mr. Hobbs."
"The best of friends must part," said Mr. Hobbs.
"Well," said Cedric; "we have been friends for a great many years, haven't we ?"
"Ever since you was born," Mr. Hobbs answered. "You was about six weeks old when you was first walked out oh 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 ?"
'T'm afraid not," answered Cedric. "My mamma says that my papa would wish me to do it. But
*) I'll be jiggered = is a mild form of swearing.
21



if I have to be an earl, there's one thing I can do: I can try to be a good one. Tm not gointj to be a tyrant. And if there is ever to be another war with America, I shall try to stop it" His conversation with Mr. Hobbs was a lontr
sTorfM113 ^eKK?nCe havinS Sot over the firsf shock Mr. Hobbs was not so rancorous i) as might have been expected; he endeavoured 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 endeavoured to answer them lumself and explained many things in a way which would probably have astonished Mr Havisham, could that gentleman have heard it.'
Mr. Havisham learns many things. tiut then there were many things which astonished Mr Havisham. ui had %ent ^ his hfe m England, and was not accustomed to Amencan people and American habits
When he first told Mrs. Errol what 'he had come for, she turned very pale.
"Ohif" she said; "wül he have to be taken away from me ? We love each other so much | tLe is such a happiness to me ! He is all I have' I have tned to be a good mother to him." And' her voice trembled, and the tears rushed into her eyes. "You do not know what he has been to me !" she said.
') rancorous = bitter, spiteful.
22



The lawyer cleared l) his throat.
'T am obhged to teil you," he said, "that the Earl of Dorincourt is not very friendly toward you. He is an old man, and his prejudices are very strong. He had always especiaÜy disliked America and Americans, and was very much enraged by his son's marriage. I am sorry to be the bearer of so unpleasant a communication, but he is very fixed in his detennination 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. Lord Fauntleroy will, therefore, be likely to live chieny at Dorincourt. The Earl offers to 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 condition is, that you shall not visit him or enter the park gates. You see you will not be really separated from your son. The advantage of such surroundings and education as Lord Fauntleroy will have, I am sure you must see, will be very great."
He feit a üttle uneasy lest 2) she should begin to cry, 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
5 cleared his throat «■> coughed slightly. J) lest = for fear that.
23



and stood with her face turned away for a few moments, and he saw she was trying to steady i) herself.
"Captain Errol was very fond of Dorincourt," $he said at last. "He löved England, and everything English. It was always a grief to him that he was parted from his home. He was proud of bis home, and of his name. I know he would wish, that bis 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 lové 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
*) to steady herself = to compose herself, to be calm.
24



effort will be used to insure his happiness. The Earl of Dorincourt will be as anxious for his comfort and well-being as you yourself could be."
"I hope," said the tender little mother, in a rather broken voice, "that his grandfather will love Ceddie. The little boy has a very affectionate nature; and he has always been loved."
Mr. Havisham could not quite imagine the gouty, ï) fiery-tempered old Earl loving any one very much ; but he knew it would be bis interest to be kind, in his way, to the child who was to be bis heir. He knew, too, that if Ceddie were at all a credit 2) to his name, his grandfather would be proud of him.
"Lord Fauntleroy will be comfortable. I am sure," he replied. "It was with a view to his happiness that the Earl desired that you should be near enough to him to see him frequently."
He did not think it would be discreet to repeat the exact words the Earl had used, which were in fact neither polite nor amiable.
He had a 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 1*11 find him easy enough, ma'am," she said; "for it's with Mr. Hobbs he is this minute, sittin' on his high stool by the counter an' talkin' politics, most likely, or enjoyin'
') gouty = subject to the gout, which is a sharp pain in feet, hands or knees ; in Dutch : jicht.
*) at all a firedit = any source of honour.
«5



himself among the soap an' candles an' potatoes."
"Mr. Hobbs has known him all bis 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, Mr. Havisham feit his doubts. In England, gentlemen's sons did not make friends of grocerymen, and it seemed to him a rather singular proceeding. It would be very awkward if the child had bad manners and a disposition to like low company.
Mr. Havisham is satisfied.
He was thinking uneasily about this, until the child came into the room. When the door opened, he actually hesitated a moment before looking at Cedric. It would, perhaps, have seemed very queer to a great many people who knew him, if they could have known the curious sensations that passed through Mr. Havisham when he looked down at the boy, who ran into his mother's arms. He recognised 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, graceful little body and a manly face; he held his 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
26



timid in them. They were innocently fearless eyes j 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 hün. He knew very little about children, but, however that was, he certainly found himself noticing Ceddie a great deal.
Cedric did not know he was being observed, and he only behaved himself in his ordinary manner. He shook hands with Mr. Havisham in his friendly way when they were introduced to each other, and he answered all his questions with the unhesitating readiness with which he answered Mr. Hobbs.
"He seems to be a very mat ure l) little fellow," Mr. Havisham said to the mother.
"I think he is, in some things," she answered. "He has always been very quick to learn, and he has lived a great deal with grown-up people. He has a funny 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."
l) tnature — knowing more taan may be expected of a boy of his age.
27



The little Lord wins a race.
The next time Mr. Havisham met him, he saw that this 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 lordship, and he was shouting and making as much noise as the noisiest of his companions. He stood side by side with another boy, one üttle red leg advanced a step.
"One, to make ready I" yeüed 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 remembered having seen anything quite üke the way in which bis lordship's üttle red legs flew up bebind bis knickerbockers and tore 2) over the ground as he shot out in the race at the signal word. He shut bis small hands and set his face against the wind; his bright hair streamed out bebind.
"Hooray, Ced Errol!" aU the boys shouted, dancing and shrieking with excitement. "Hooray, Büly Williams ! Hooray, Ceddie ! Hooray, Büly ! Hooray ! 'Ray ! 'Ray !"
"I reaUy beüeve 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 Büly Wilüams whose brown
') starier = the person who gives the signal for a race to begin. *) tore = rushed, ran very quickly.
28



legs were not to be despised as they followed closely in the rear of the red legs, made him feel some excitement. "I really—I really can't help hoping he will win !" he said, with an apologetic sort of cough.
At that moment the wildest yell of all went up from the dancing, hopping boys. With one last frantic leap the future Earl of Dorincourt had reached the lamp-post at the end of the block and touched it, just two seconds before Billy Williams flung himself at it, panting.
"Three cheers *) for Ceddie Errol!" yelled the üttle boys. "Hooray for Ceddie Errol!"
Mr. Havisham drew his head in at the window of his coupé and leaned back with a dry smüe.
"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 clamouring crowd. Cedric walked by Büly Wilüams and was speaking to him. His elated little face was very red, his curls clung to his hot, moist forehead,- his hands were in his pockets.
"You see," he was saying, evidently with the intention of making defeat easy for his unsuccessful rival, "I guess I won because my legs are a üttle longer than yours. I guess that was it. You see, Fm three days older than you, and that gives me a 'vantage.2) I'm three days older."
l) three cheers = three times "Hip ! Hip 1 Hurrah !" *) 'vantage = ad vantage.
20



And this view of the case seemed to cheer Büly Wilüams so much that he began to smüe on the world again, and feit almost as if he had won the race instead of losing it. Somehow, Ceddie Errol had a way of malring people feel comfortable. Even in the first flush of his triumphs, he remembered that the person who was beaten might not feel so gay as he did.
That morning Mr. Havisham had quite a long conversation with the winner of the race—a conversation which made him smüe, and rub bis chin with his bony hand several times.
A serious talk between Lord and lawyer.
Mrs. Errol had been caüed out of the parlour, and the lawyer and Cedric were left together. At first Mr. Havisham wondered what he should say to his small companion.
He sat in an arm-chair on one side of the open window; on the other side was another stül larger chair, and Cedric sat in that and looked at Mr. Havisham. He sat wéü back in his big seat, bis curly head against the cushioned back, his legs crossed, and his hands thrust deep into his pockets,- in a quite Mr. Hobbs-like way. There was a short süence 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 üttle boy who won races, and wore short knickerbockers and red stockings on legs which
30



were not long enough to hang over a big chair when he sat well back in it.
But Cedric relieved him by suddenly beginning the conversation himself.
"Do you know," he said. "I don't know what an earl is ?"
"Don't you ?" said Mr. Havisham.
"No," replied Ceddie. "And I think when a boy is going to be one, he ought to know. Don't you ?"
"Well—yes," answered Mr. Havisham.
"Would you mind," said Ceddie respectfully— "would you mind 'splaining J) it to me ? What made him an earl ?"
"A king or queen, in the first place," said Mr. Havisham. "Generally, he is made an earl because he has done some service to his sovereign, or some great deed."
"Oh !" said Cedric ; "that's like the President."
"Is it ?" said Mr. Havisham. "Is that why your presidents are elected ?"
"Yes," answered Ceddie cheerfully. "When a man is very good and knows a great deal, he is elected President. They have torch-light processions and bands, 2) and everybody makes speeches. I used to think I might perhaps be a president, but I never thought of being an earl. I didn't know about earls," he said, rather hastily, lest Mr. Havisham might feel it impolite in him not to have wished to be one. "If I'd
1) 'splaining = explaining.
*) band = company of musicians.
31



known about them, I dare say I should have thought I should like to be one."
"It is rather different from being a president," said Mr. Havisham.
"Is it ?" asked Cedric. "How ? Are there no torch-light processions ?"
Mr. Havisham crossed bis own legs and put the tips of his fingers* carefully together. He thought perhaps the time had come to explain matters rather more clearly.
"An earl is—is a very important person," he began.
"So is a president ?" put in Ceddie. "The torch-light processions are five miles long, and they shoot up rockets, and the band plays! Mr. Hobbs took me to see them."
An apple-woman of ancient lineage.
"An earl," Mr. Havisham went on, feeling rather uncertain of his ground, "is frequently of very ancient lineage "
"What's that ?" asked Ceddie.
"Of very old family—extremely old."
"Ah !" said Cedric, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. "I suppose that is the way with the apple-woman near the park. I dare say she is of ancient lin-lenage. She is so old it would surprise you how she can stand up. She's a hundred I should think, and yet she is out there when it rains even. Fm sorry for her, and so are the other boys. Büly Wilüams once had nearly a dollar and I asked him to buy five
32



cents' !) worth of apples from her every day until he had spent it all. That made twenty days, and he grew tired of apples after a week but then—it was quite fortunate—a gentleman gave me fifty cents and I bought apples from her instead. You feel sorry for any one that's so poor and has such ancient lin-lenage. She says hers has gone into her bones and the rain makes it worse."
Mr. Havisham feit rather at a loss 2) as he looked at his companion's innocent, serious little face.
"I am af raid you did not quite under stand 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."
"Like George Washington," 3) said Ceddie, "I've heard of Mm ever since I was born, and he was known long before that. Mr. Hobbs says he will never be forgotten. You see, he was a very brave man."
"The first Earl of Dorincourt," said Mr. Havisham solemnly, "was created an earl four hundred years ago."
"Well, well!" said Ceddie. "That was a long time ago ! Did you teil Dearest that ? It would int'rust 4) her very much. We'11 teil her when she
') ioo cents is a Dollar; a cent is about an English half penny.
2) feit rather at a loss = he hardly knew what to say.
3) Washington, founder of the independence of the United States, and their first president.
*) int'rust = interest.
3. Up-to-Date Series A III.
33



comes in. She always likes to hear cur' usJ) 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 hke to do that myself," said Cedric. "My papa was a soldier, and he was a very brave man—as brave as George Washington. Perhaps that was because he would have been an earl if he hadn't died. I am glad earls are brave. That's a great 'vantage—to be a brave man. Once I used to be rather afraid of things in the dark, you know; but when I thought about the soldiere in the Revolution and George Washington, it cured me."
"There is another ad vantage 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."
The power and the use 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 pereon 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,
1) cur'us = curious.
34



and a little stove, and then I should give her a dollar every morning it rained, so that she could afïord i) to stay at home. And then—oh ! I'd give her a shawl. And, you see, her bones wouldn't feel so badly. Her bones are not like out 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, and a carriage, so that she needn't have to wait for the street-cars. 2) 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 teil her to look round and choose for herself. And then Dick "
"Who is Dick ?" asked Mr. Havisham.
. Dick, the "square" boot-black.
"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 3). I've known him for years. Once when I was very little, I was walking out with Dearest and she bought me a beautiful ball that bounced,
*) could afford = should be sufficiently rich. *) street-car = tramway-car.
*) down town = in the central and lower part of the town.
35



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 üttle. Dick was blackrng a man's shoes, and he said 'Heüo!' and he ran in between the horses and caught the baü for me and wiped it off with his coat and gave it to me and said : Tt's aü right, young un»)'. So Dearest admired liim very much, and so did I, and ever since then, when we go down town, we talk to him. He says 'Heüo !' and I say 'Hello !' and then we talk a üttle, 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 smüe.
"Weü," said Lord Fauntleroy, settüng himself in his chair with a business air ; "I'd buy Jake out."
"And who is Jake ?" Mr. Havisham asked.
"He's Dick's partner, and he is the worst partner a feüow could have ! Dick says so. He isn't a credit to the business, and he isn't square2). He cheats, and thatmakesDick mad. It would make you mad, you know, if you were blacking boots as hard as you could, and being square all the time, and your partner wasn|t square at aü. People üke Dick, but they don't like Jake, and so sometimes they don't come twice. So if I were rich, I'd buy Jake out and get
l) young un = young one, little fellow. *) square = honest.
36



Dick a boss' J) sign— he says a boss' sign goes a long way 2) ; and I'd get him some new clothes and new brushes, and start him out fair 3). He says all he wants is to start out fair."
There could have been nothing more confiding and innocent than the way in which bis small lordship told his little story, quoting his friend Dick's bits of slang 4) in the most candid good faith. He seemed to feel no 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 lord, whose curly head was so busy with good-natured plans for his friends, and who seemed somehow to have forgotten himself altogether.
"Is there anything " he began. "What
would you get for yourself, if you were rich ?"
"Lots of things ?" answered Lord Fauntleroy briskly; "but first I'd give Mary some money for Bridget—that's her sister, with ten 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 I think Mr. Hobbs would like a gold watch and chain to remember
') boss' sign = a sign to indicate that he was ,boss', or master of the business.
2) goes a long way — will help him much in his business.
3) start him out fair — give him the means of beginning properly.
*) slang = colloquial language used among certain classes of people, usually somewhat vulgar or incorrect.
, i, , ■ ° ° ' '
37



me by, and a meerschaum pipe. And then I'd like to get up a company."
"A company ?" exclaimed Mr. Havisham.
"Like a Republican rally," explained Cedric, becoming quite excited. "I'd have torches and uniforms and things for all the boys, and myself too. And we'd march, you know, and drill. That's what I'd like for myself, if I were rich."
The door opened and Mrs. Errol came in.
"I am sorry to have been obliged to leave you so long," she said to Mr. Havisham; "but a poor woman, who is in great trouble, came to see me."
"This young gentleman," said Mr. Havisham, "has been telling me about some of bis friends, and what he would do for them if he were rich."
"Bridget is one of his friends," said Mrs. Errol; "and it is Bridget to whom I have been talking in the kitchen. She is in great trouble now 'because her husband has rheumatic fever."
Cedric slipped down out of his big chair.
'T think 1*11 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." Cedric is to know he it rich.
He ran out of the room, and Mr. Havisham rose from his chair, and said, looking down at Mrs. Errol:
"Before I left Dorincourt Castle I had an interview with the Earl, in which he gave me
38



some instructions. He is desirous that his grandson should look forward with some pleasure to his future üfe 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 teil him that his grandfather had given him what he wished."
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 teil him his grandfather put it there."
"Oh I" 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. Michael is a hard-working man when he is well, but he has been ill a long time and needs expensive medicines and warm clothing and nourishing food. He and Bridget will not be wasteful of what is given them."
Mr. Havisham put his thin hand in his breastpocket 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
39



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 Fauntleroy had been indulged in any fancy. If you will call him back and allow me, I shall give him five pounds for these people."
"That would be twenty-five dollars!" exclaimed Mrs. Errol. "It will seem like wealth to them. I can scarcely believe that it is true."
"It is quite true," said Mr. Havisham, with his dry smüe. "A great change has taken place in your son's life, a great deal of power wül üe in his hands."
"Oh!" cried bis mother. "And he is such a very üttle boy. How can I teach him to use it weü ? It makes me half afraid."
The lawyer süghtly cleared his throat. It touched his wordly, hard old heart to see thë tender, timed look in her brown eyes.
"I think, madam," he said, "that if I may judge from my interview with Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of Dorincourt wül think for others as weü as for his noble self. He is only a chüd yet, but I think he may be trusted." How Cedric spent bis first money.
Then his mother went for Cedric and brought him back into the parlour. Mr. Havisham heard him talking before he entered the room.
40



"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 Pad could get a place in a store if he had some clothes."
His little face looked quite anxious when he came in. He was very sorry for Bridget.
"Dearest said you wanted me," he said to Mr. Havisham. "I've been talking to Bridget."
Mr. Havisham looked down at him a moment. He feit a üttle awkward and undecided. As Cedric's mother had said, he was a very üttle 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 arms around him.
"Ceddie," she said, "the Earl is your grandpapa, your own papa's father. He is very kind, and he loves you, and wishes you to love him. 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 üke to have. He told Mr. Havisham so, and gave him a great deal of money for you. You can give some to Bridget now; enough to pay her rent and buy Michael everything. Isn't that fine, Ceddie ? Isn't he good!"
') infam-natory = imflammatory; accorapanied with great heat, or inflammation.
41



Cedric looked from his mother to Mr. Havisham.
"Can I have it now ?" he cried. "Can I give it to her this minute ? She's just going."
Mr. Havisham handed him the money, and Ceddie flew out of the room.
"Bridget!" they heard him shout; "Bridget, wait a minute! Here's some money. It's for you, and you can pay the rent. My grandpapa gave it to me. It's for you and Michael!"
"Oh, Master Ceddie !" cried Bridget, in an awestricken voice. "It's twenty-five dollars! Where is the mistress ?"
"I think I shall have to go and explain it to her," Mrs. Errol said.
So she, too, went out of the room, and Mr. Havisham was left alone for a while. He went to the window and stood loolring out into the street reflectively. He was thinking of the old Earl of Dorincourt, sitting is 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 arrogant and passionate ; all his wealth and power, all the benefits from his noble name and high rank, had seemed to him to be things only to be used to amuse and give pleasure to the Earl of Dorincourt; and now that he was an old man, all his riches and greatness had only brought him ill-health and irritability and a dislike of the world, which certainly
42



disliked him. In spite of all his splendour, there was never a more unpopular old nobleman than the Ëarl of Dorincourt, and there could scarcely have been a more lonely one. He had a cruel tongue and a bitter nature, and he took pleasure in sneering at people and making them feel uncomfortable.
And in the mind of Mr. Havisham rose, 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 hls generous, innocent, honest way. And he thought of the immense income, the beautiful estates, the wealth, and power for good or evil, which in the course of time would üe in the small hands little Lord Fauntleroy thrust so deep into his pockets.
"It will make a great difference," he said to himself. 'Tt wül make a great difference."
Cedric and bis mother came back soon after. Cedric was in high spirits ]). He sat down in his own chair, between bis mother and the lawyer. He was glowing with enjoyment of Bridget's reliëf and rapture.
Almost glad to become an earl.
"She cried!" he said. "She said she was crying for joy. I never saw any one cry for joy before. My grandpapa must be a very good man. I didn't know he was so geod a man. It's
') in high spirits = full of joy.
43



more—more agreebler i) to be an earl than I thought it was. I'm almost—I'm almost quite glad Fm going to be one."
Cedric's good opinion of the advantages of being an earl increased greatly during the next week. He began to understand, 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 together to pay a visit to Dick, and the afternoon they so amazed the apple-woman of ancient lineage by stopping before her stall and telling her she was to have a tent, and a stove, and a shawl, and a sum of money which seemed to her quite wonderful.
"For I have to go to England and be a lord," explained Cedric. "And I shouldn't like to have your bones on my mind every time it rained. My own bones never hurt, so I think I don't know how painful a person's bones can be, but I've sympathised with you a great deal, and I hope you'11 be better."
"She's a very good apple-woman," he said to Mr. Havisham as they walked away, leaving the proprietress of the stall almost gasping for breath, and not at all believing in her great fortune.
"Once, when I feil down and cut my knee,
!) agreebler = more agreeable.
44



she gave me an apple for nothing. I've always remembered her for it. You know you always remember people who are kind to you."
Dick amazed, and Jake bought out.
The interview with Dick was quite exciting. Dick had just been having a great deal of trouble with Jake, and was in low spirits *) when they saw him. His amazement when Cedric calmly announced that they had come to give him what seemed a very great thing to him, and would set all his troubles right, almost struck him dumb. Lord Fauntleroy's manner of announcing the object of his visit was very simple and unceremonious. 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 feil off. When he picked it up, he uttered a rather singular exclamation. Mr. Havisham thought it singular, but Cedric had heard it before.
'T soy !" 2) he said, "what 're yer givin' us ?" This plainly embarrassed his lordship a little, but he bore himself bravely.
"Everybody thinks it not true at first," he said. "Mr. Hobbs thought I'd had a sunstroke. I didn't think I was going to like it myself, but I like it better, now I'm used to it. The one who is the earl now—he's my grandpapa ; and he wants me to do anything I like. He's very kind, though
5 in low spirits = depressed, sad.
*) I say, what stories are you telling us ?
45



he is an earl; and he sent me a lot of money by Mr. Havisham, and I've brought some to you to buy Jake out."
And the end of the matter was that Dick actually bought Jake out, and found himself the possessor of the business, and some new brushes and a most astonishing sign and outfit i). He could not believe in his good luck any more easily than the apple-woman of ancient lineage could believe in hers; he stared at his young benefactor and feit as if he might wake up at any moment; until Cedric put out his hand to shake hands with him before going away.
"Well, good-bye," he said; and though he tried to speak steadily, there was a little tremble in his voice and he winked his big brown eyes. "And I hope trade'11 be good. I'm sorry I'm going away to leave you, but perhaps I shall come back again when I'm an earl. And I wish you'd write to me, because we were always good friends. And if you write to me, here's where you must send your letter." And he gave him a slip of paper. "And my name isn't Cedric Errol any more ; it's Lord Fauntleroy and—and good-bye, Dick,"
Dick winked his eyes also, and they certainly looked rather moist about the lashes. He was not an educated boot-black, and he would have feit it difficult to teil what he feit just then, if
») outfit = everything necessary to the business.
46



he had tried; perhaps that was why he didn't try, and only winked his eyes.
"I wish ye wasn't goin' away," he said in a husky voice. Then he winked his eyes again. Then he looked at Mr. Havisham and touched his cap. "Thanky, i) sir, fur bringin' him down here an' fur wot ye've done. He's—he's a queer little feller," he added. 'T've allers thort a heap of him. He's such a game 2) üttle feüer, an—an' such a queer üttle one."
Cedric takes leave of Mr. Hobbs.
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 difncult to acknowledge it properly. He laid the case on his stout knee, and blew bis 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.
'T sha'n't forget you," he said, speaking a
J) Thank you, sir, for bringing . . . . a queer little fellow. I have always thought much of him (had a high opinion of). *) game = courageous.
47



trifle huskily, as Dick had spoken; "nor don't you go and forget me when you get among the British aristocracy."
"I shouldn't forget you, whoever I was among," answered his lordship ; 'T've spent my happiest hours with you. I hope you'11 come to see me some time. I'm sure my grandpapa would be very much pleased. Perhaps he'11 write and ask you, when I teil him about you. You—you wouldn't mind his being an earl, would you ? I mean you wouldn't stay away just because he was one, if he invited you to come ?"
"I'd come to see you," replied Mr. Hobbs, graciously.
So it seemed to be agreed that if he received a pressing invitation from the earl to come and spend a few months at Dorincourt Castle, he was to lay aside his republican prejudices and pack his valise at once.
The steamer, and a last suprise.
At last all the preparations were complete; and the day came when they were on the steamer in the midst of the wüdest bustle and confusion; carriages were driving down and leaving passengere; big trunks and cases were being dragged about; sailors were uncoiling TOpes and hurrying to and fro ; officere were giving orders ; ladies and gentlemen and children and nurses were coming on board—some were laughing and looked gay, some were silent and sad, here and there two or three were crying.
48



It was just at the very last, when Cedric was standing leaning on the railing of the upper deck and watching the final preparations, that his attention was called to a slight bustle in one of the groups not far from him. Some one was hurriedly forcing his way through this group and coming toward him. It was a boy, with something red in his hand. It was Dick. He came up to Cedric quite breathless.
'T've run all the way," he said. 'T've come down to see i) ye off. Trade's been prime 2) ! I bought this for ye out o' what I made yesterday. Ye kin wear it when ye get among the swells. 3) I lost the paper when I was tryin' to get through them fellers downstairs. They didn't want to let me up. It's a hankercher". 4)
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
*) to see ye off = to take leave of you.
5) Trade's been prime = business has been very good.
3) swells = rich people.
4) hankercher = handkerchief.
4. Up-to-date Series A III.
49



was of bright red sük, ornamented with purple horseshoes and horses' heads.
There was a great creaking and confusion. The people on the wharf began to shout to their friends, and the people on the steamer shouted back.
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 !" and little Lord Fauntleroy steamed slowly away from the home of his birth to the unknown land of his ancestors.
Cedric to be separated from „Dearest".
It was during the voyage that Cedric's mother told him that his home was not to be hers ; and when he first understood it, his grief was so great that Mr. Havisham saw that the Earl had been wise in making the arrangements that his mother should be quite near him, and see him often; for it was very plain he could not have borne the separation otherwise. But his mother managed the üttle feüow so well, and made him feel that she would be so near him, that, after
50



a while, he ceased to be oppressed by the fear of any real parting.
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 teil him why this plan had been made.
"I should prefer he should not be told," she said to Mr. Havisham. "He would not really understand; and I feel sure that his feeling for the Earl will be a more natural and affectionate one, if he does not know that his grandfather dislikes me so bitterly. 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, which would be explained when he was older.
"I don't like it," he said once as he was having one of his 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 bis children are dead, and that's very mournful. It makes you sorry, for a man, when all his
l) could not but feel = could not help feeling.
51



dear cbildren have died—and one moreover was killed suddenly."
Cedric, a very amusing passenger.
One of the things which always delighted the people who made the acquaintance of his young lordship was the sage 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 childish face, it was irresistible. Gradually Mr. Havisham had begun to derive a great deal of private pleasure and amusement from his society.
"And so you are going to try to like the Earl," he said.
"Yes," answered his lordship. "He's my relation, and of course you have to like your relations ; and besides, he's been very kind to me. When a person does so many things for you and wants you to have everything you wish for, of course you'd like him if he wasn't your relation; but when he's your relation and does that, why, you're very fond of him.
"Do you think," suggested Mr. Havisham, "that he will be fond of you ?"
"Well," said Cedric, "I think he will, because, you see, I'm his relation too, and I'm his boy's little boy besides, and, well, don't you see—of course he must be fond of me now, or he wouldn't want me to have everything that I üke, and he wouldn't have sent you for me."
"Oh !" remarked the lawyer, "that's it, is it ?"
52



"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 sea-sick had no sooner recovered, and come on deck to recline in their 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. Every one liked him : he made friends everywhere. When the gentlemen walked up and down the deck, and let him walk with them, he answered all their jokes with much enjoyment; when the ladies talked to him, there was always laughter in the group of which he was the centre ; when he played with the children there was always magnificent fun on hand. Among the sailors he had the heartiest friends ; he heard miraculous stories about pirates and shipwrecks and desert islands; he learned to splice !) ropes and rig toy ships, 2) and gained an amount of information concerning "tops'les" and "mains'les," 3) quite surprising. His conversation had, indeed, quite a nautical flavour at times, and on one occasion he raised a shout of laughter in a group of ladies and gentlemen by saying with a very engaging expression:
"Shiver my timbers, 4) but it's a cold day !"
l) to splice ropes = to unite two pieces of rope, by interweaving the strands or twisted parts of which a rope is composed. J) toy ships — ships that children play with. 3) top sails and main sails.
*) shiver my timbers ; a mild form of swearing, used by nautical people.
53



Jerry's awful experiences.
It surprised him when they laughed. He had picked up this seafaring 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 bloodtbirsty cannibals. Judging, also, by these same exciting adventures, he had been partially roasted and eaten frequently and had been scalped some fifteen or twenty times.
"That is why he is so bald," explained Lord Fauntleroy to his mamma. "After you have been scalped several times the hair never grows again. Jerry's never grew 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 he down, and the king wears it that way now, and it looks something like a hair-brush. I never heard anything like the experiences Jerry has had!"
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 teil them some of these stories
54



of Jerry's, and as he sat relating them with great delight and fervour, there was certainly no more popular voyager on any ocean steamer crossing the Atlantic than Little Lord Fauntleroy.
"Jerry's stories int'rest them very much," he said to his mamma. "For my part—sometimes I should have thought they couldn't be all quite true, if they hadn't happened to Jerry himself; but as they all happened to Jerry—well, it's very strange, you know, and perhaps sometimes he may forget and be a little mistaken, as he's been scalped so often. Being scalped a great many times might make a person forgetful."
IN ENGLAND.
They reach Court Lodge.
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.
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 doorway.
Lord Fauntleroy sprang at her with a gay little shout.
55



"Did you get here, Mary ?" he said. "Here's Mary, Dearest."
"I am glad you are here, Mary," Mrs. Errol said to her in a low voice. "It takes the strangeness away."
The English servants looked with curiosity at both the boy and his mother. They had heard all sorts of rumours 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 sa vage old grandfather and his gout and his tempers.
"He'11 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.
Mary led them upstairs to a bright chintzhung bedroom where a fire was burning, and a large snow-white Peisian cat was sleeping luxuriously on the white fur hearth-rug.
"It was the housekeeper up at the Castle, ma'am, sent her to you," explained Mary. "She is a kind-hearted lady an' has had everything done for you; she said the big cat sleepin' on the rug might make the room more homelike to you. She knew Captain Errol when he was a boy."
When they were ready, they went downstairs
56



into another big bright room. There was a great tiger-skin before the fire, and an arm-chair on each side of it. The stately white cat had followed Lord Fauntleroy downstairs, and when he threw himself down upon the rug, she curled herself up beside him as if she intended to make friends. Cedric was so pleased that he put his head down by hers, and lay strolring her, not noticing what bis mother and Mr. Havisham were saying.
They were, indeed, speaking in a rather low tone. Mrs. Errol looked a üttle pale and agitated.
"He need not go to-night ?" she said. "He wül stay with me to-night ?"
"Yes," answered Mr. Havisham in the same low tone; "it wül not be necessary for him io go to-night. I myself wül go to the Castle as soon as we have dined, and inform the Earl of our arrival."
Mrs. Errol glanced down at Cedric. He was lying in a graceful, careless attitude upon the black-and-yeüow skin; the fire shone on his handsome, flushed face, and 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 hand on her fur.
Mrs. Errol smüed faintly.
"His lordship does not know all that he is taking from me," she said rather sadly. Then she looked at the lawyer. "Wül you teü him, if
') tumbled = disordered.
57



you please," she said, "that I should rather not have the money ?"
"The money !" Mr. Havisham exclaimed. "You cannot mean the income he proposed to settle upon you ?"
"Yes," she answered, quite simply j "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, and I should rather not take the other. As he dislikes me so much, I should feel a little as if I were selling Cedric to him. I am giving him up only because I love him enough to forget myself for his good, and because his father would wish it to be so."
Mr. Havisham rubbed bis chin.
"This is very strange," he said. "He will be very angry. He won't understand it."
"I think he will understand it, after the thinks it over," she said. "I do not really need the money, and why should I accept luxuries from the man who hates me so much that he takes my üttle boy from me—his son's child ?"
Mr. Havisham looked reflective for a few moments.
'T wül deüver your message," he said afterwards.
Mr. Havisham meets the Earl.
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
58



the fire in an easy-chair, his foot on a goutstool. He looked at the lawyer sharply from under his shaggy eyebrows, but Mr. Havisham could see that, in spite of his pretence at calmness, he was nervous and secretly excited.
"Well," he said ; "well, Havisham, come back, have you ? What's the news ?"
"Lord Fauntleroy and his mother are at Court Lodge," replied Mr. Havisham. "They bore the voyage very well and are in excellent health."
The Earl made a half-impatient sound and moved his hand restlessly.
"Glad to hear it," he said brusquely. "So far, so good. Make yourself comfortable. Have a glass of wine and settle down. What else ?"
"His lordship remains with his mother tonight. To-morrow I will bring him to the Castle."
"Well ?" he said; "go on. You know I told you not to write to me about the matter, and I know nothing whatever about it. What kind of a lad is he ? I don't care about the mother; what sort of a lad is he ?"
Mr. Havisham drank a little of the glass of port he had poured out for himself, and sat holding it in his hand.
'Tt is rather difhcult to judge of the character of a child of seven," he said, cautiously.
The Eari's prejudices were very intense. He looked up quickly and uttered a rough word.
"A fooi, is he ?" he exclaimed. "Or a clumsy
59



cub ? !) His American blood tells, 2) does it ?"
"I do not think it has injured him, my lord," replied the lawyer in his dry, deliberate fashion. ,,I don't know much about children, but I thought him rather a fine lad."
"Healthy and well-grown ?" asked my lord.
"Apparently very healthy, and quite wellgrown," replied the lawyer.
"Straight-limbed and well enough to look at ?" demanded the Earl.
A very slight smüe touched Mr. Havisham's thin üps. There rose up before his mind's eye the picture he had left at Court Lodge—the beautiful, graceful child's body lying upon the tiger-skin in careless comfort—the bright hair spread on the rug—the bright boy's face.
"Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord, as boys go," 3) he said, "though I am scarcely a judge, perhaps. But you wiü find him somewhat different to most Engüsh children, I dare say."
"I haven't a doubt of that," snarled the Earl, a twinge 4) of gout seizing him. "A lot of impudent üttle beggars, those American children ; I've heard that of ten enough."
"It is not exactly impudence in his case," said Mr. Havisham. "I can scarcely describe what the difference is. He has üved more with older people than with children, and the difference seems to be a mixture of maturity and chüdishness."
') cub = the young of a wild animal; here: a bad-mannered boy. *) tells = shows its influence. s) as boys go = as far as a boy can be handsome. *) twinge = a sudden attack.
60



"American impudence!" protested the Earl. 'T've heard of it before. They call it precocity and freedom. Beastly, impudent bad manners; that's what it is!"
Mr. Havisham drank some more port. He seldom argued with his lordly patron—never when his lordly patron's noble leg was inflamed by gout. At such times it was always better to leave him alone. So there was a silence of a few moments. It was Mr. Havisham who broke it.
A message from Mrs. Errol.
"I have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol," he remarked.
"I don't want any of her messages !" growled bis lordship ; "the less I hear of her the better."
"This is a rather important one," explained the lawyer. "She prefers not to accept the income you proposed to settle on her."
The Earl started visibly.
"What's that ?" he cried out. "What's that ?"
Mr. Havisham repeated his words.
"She says it is not necessary, and that as the relations between you are not friendly "
"Not friendly !" ejaculated my lord savagely ; T should say they were not friendly ! I hate to think of her ! A mercenary !), sharp-voiced American ! I don't wish to see her !"
"My lord," said Mr. Havisham, "you can scarcely call her mercenary. She has asked for
l) mercenary = acting from motives of gain; Dutch : inhalig.
61



nothing. She does not accept the money you offer her."
"All done for effect!" snapped his hoble lordship. "She thinks I shall aó^mire her spirit. I don't admire it! It's only American independence! I won't have her living like a beggar at my park gates. As she's the boy's mother, she has a position to keep up, and she shall keep it up. She shall have the money, whether she likes it or not!"
"She won't spend it," said Mr. Havisham.
"I don't care whether she spends it or not!" blustered i) my lord. "She shall have it sent to her. She sha'n't teil 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. 'T have another message, which will prove to you that she has not done that."
"I don't want to hear it!" panted the Earl, out of breath with anger and excitement and gout. Mr. Havisham delivered it.
"She asks you not to let Lord Fauntleroy hear anything which would lead him to understand that you separate him from her because of your prejudice against her. He is very fond of her, and she is convinced that it would cause a barrier to exist between you. She says he would not
1) blustered = storm ed.
62



comprehend it, and it might make him fear you in some measure, or at least cause him to feel less affection for you. She has told him that he is too young to understand the reason, but shall hear it when he is older. She wishes that there should be no shadow on your first meeting."
The Earl sank back into his chair. His deepset fierce old eyes gleamed under his beetlingJ) brows.
"Come, now!" he said, stül breathlessly. "Come, now ! You don't mean the mother hasn't told him ?"
"Not one word, mylord," repüed the lawyer coolly. "That I can assure you. The child is prepared to believe you the most amiable and affectionate of grandparents. And as I carried out your commands in every detail, while in New-York, he certainly regards you as a wonder of generosity."
"He does, eh ?" said the Earl.
"I give you my word of honour," said Mr. Havisham, "that Lord Fauntleroy's impressions of you will depend entirely upon yourself. And I think you will succeed better with him if you take the precaution not to speak slightingly 2) of his mother."
"Pooh, pooh !" said the Earl. "The youngster's only seven years old !"
"He has spent those seven years at his mother's side," returned Mr. Havisham; "and she has all his affection."
') beetling = prominent. *) slightingly m disrespectfully.
63



Lord Fauntleroy rides to the Castle.
It was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing üttle Lord Fauntleroy and Mr. Havisham drove up the long avenue which led to the castle. The Earl had given orders that his grandson should arrivé in time to dine with him, and for some reason best known to himself, he had also ordered that the chüd should be sent alone into the room in which he intended to receive him.
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 üons ornamenting the eritrance. The gates were opened by a motherly-looking woman. Two children stood looking with round wide-open eyes at the üttle boy in the carriage, who looked at them also. Their mother stood courtesying *) and smiling, and the chüdren, on receiving a sign from her, made little courtesies too.
"Does she know me ?" asked Lord Fauntleroy. "I think she must think she knows me." And he took off his black velvet cap to her and smüed.
"How do you do ?" he said brightly. "Good afternoon !"
The woman seemed pleased, he thought. The smüe broadened on her face and a kind look came into her eyes.
"God bless your lordship!" she said. "Good
') courtesying = bowing ; used only is case of a woman making a bow.
64



luck and happiness to your lordship! Welcome to you !"
Lord Fauntleroy waved his cap and nodded to her again as the carriage rolled by her.
"I like that woman," he said. "She looks as if she liked boys. I should like to come here and play with her children. I wonder if she has enough to make up a company ?"
Mr. Havisham did not teil him that he would scarcely be allowed to make playmates of the gatekeeper'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. Dorincourt Castle was one of the most beautiful in all England; its park was one of the finest, and its trees and avenue almost without rivals.
'T'ts a beautiful place, isn't it ?" he said to Mr. Havisham. "I never saw such a beautiful place. It's prettier even than Central Park."
He was rather puzzled by the length of time they were on their way.
"How far is it ?" he said, at last, "from the gate to the front door ?"
'Tt 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.
5. Up-to-date Series A III.
65



At length the castle rosé up before them stately and beautiful and grey, the last rays of the sun casting dazzling lights on its many windows. It had turrets and battlements and towers ; a great deal of ivy grew upon its walls; all the broad open space about it was laid out in terraces and lawns and beds of brilliant flowers.
"It's the most beautiful place I ever saw!" said Cedric, his face flushing with pleasure. 'Tt reminds one of a king's palace. I saw a picture of one once in a fairy-book.''
A great day for Dorincourt.
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 honour to the little boy to whom all this splendour would one day belong. It was only a couple of weeks since he had sat with Mr. Hobbs among the potatoes with bis 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 grey hair and wore a cap. As he entered the hall she stood nearer than the rest, and the child thought from the look in her eyes that she was going to speak to him. Mr. Havisham, who held his hand, paused a moment.
66



"This is Lord Fauntleroy, Mrs. Mellon," he said, "Lord Fauntleroy, this is Mrs. Mellon, who is the housekeeper."
Cedric gave her his hand, his eyes lighting up.
"Was it you who sent the cat ?" he said. 'T'm much obliged to you, ma'am."
Mrs. Mellon's handsome old face looked as pleased as the face of the lodge-keeper's wife had done.
"I should know his lordship any where," she said to Mr. Havisham. "He has the Captain's face and way. It's a great day, this, sir."
Cedric wondered why it was a great day. He looked at Mrs. Mellon curiously. It seemed to him for a moment as if there were tears in her eyes, and yet it was evident she was not unhappy.
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."
Cedric makes the Earl's acquaintance.
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. He feit it was rather a grand occasion when the heir came home to his own land and possessions.
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 dark, and
67



the draperies were heavy and the windows deep, and it seemed such a distance from one end to the other, and, since the sun had gone down, the effect of it all was rather gloomy. For a moment Cedric thought there was nobody in the room, but soon he saw that by the fire burning on the wide hearth, there was a large easy-chair, and that in that chair some one was sitting—some one who did not at first turn to look at him.
But he had attracted attention in one quarter at least. On the floor, by the armchair, lay a dog, a huge mastifï with body and limbs almost as big as a lion's ; and this great creature rose majestically and slowly, and marched toward the little fellow with a heavy step.
Then the person in the chair spoke. "Dougal," he called, "come back, sir."
But there was no more fear in little Lord Fauntleroy's heart than there was unkindness. He 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
l) mastiff = a very pbwerful dog, of mixed breed, specially used as watch-dog.
68



black velvet suit, with a lace collar, and with lovelocks waving about the handsome, manly little face, whose eyes met his with a look of innocent good-fellowship. There was a sudden glow of exultation in the fiery old Earl's heart as he saw what a strong beautiful boy this grandson was, and how unhesitatingly he looked up as he stood with lus 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. 'T'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. 'T'm very glad to see you."
The Earl shook hands with him, with a curious gleam in his eyes ; just at first he was so astonished that he scarcely knew what to say. He stared at the picturesque little apparition from under his shaggy brows, and took it all in from head to foot.
"Glad to see me, are you ?" he said.
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy, "very."
There was a chair near him, and he sat down
69



on it; it was a high-backed, rather tall chair, and his feet did not touch the floor when he had settled himself in it, but he seemed to be quite comfortable as he sat there and regarded his august relative intently and modestly.
'T've kept wondering what you would look like," he remarked. "I used to he in my berth in the ship and wonder if you would be anything like my father."
"Am I ?" asked the Earl.
"Well," Cedric replied, "I was very young when he died, and I may not remember exactly how he looked, but I don't think you are üke 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 en joy the way your grandfather looked, even if he wasn't üke 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 leisure in quarrelling violently with them, in turning them out of bis house, and applying abusive epithets to them ; and they all hated him cordially.
"Any boy would love his grandfather," continued Lord Fauntleroy, "especially one that had been as kind to him as you have been."
70



Cedric proves how kind the Earl has been.
Another queer gleam came into the old nobleman's eyes.
"Oh I" he said, "I have been kind to you, have I ?"
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy brightly; 'T'm ever so much obliged to you about Bridget, and the apple-woman, and Dick!"
"Bridget!" exclaimed the Earl. "Dick ! The apple-woman ?"
"Yes," explained Cedric; "the ones you gave me all that money for—the money you told Mr. Havisham to give me if I wanted it."
"Ha !" ejaculated his lordship. "That's it, is it ? The money you were to spend as you liked. What did you buy with it ? I should like to hear something about that."
"Oh !" said Lord Fauntleroy, "perhaps you didn't know about Dick, and the apple-woman and Bridget. I forgot you lived such a long way off from them. They were particular friends of mine. And you see Michael had the fever "
"Who's Michael ?" asked the Earl.
"Michael is Bridget's husband, and they were in great trouble. When a man is sick and can't work and has ten children, you know how it is. And Bridget used to come to our house and cry. And the evening Mr. Havisham was there, she was in the kitchen crying because they had almost nothing to eat and couldn't pay the rent; and I went in to see her, and Mr. Havisham sent
7i



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 beüeve her eyes. That's why Tm so obliged to you."
"Oh !" said the Earl in his deep voice, "that was one of the things you did for vourself, was it? What else?"
Dougal makes friends with Ceddie.
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. The old Earl, who knew the dog well, had watched it with secret interest. Dougal was not a dog whose habit it was to make acquaintances rashly, and the Earl wondered somewhat to see how quietly the brute sat under the touch of the childish hand. And, just at this moment, the big dog 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 Eari 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.
"I think it means that he wouldn't cheat any
72



one," he exclaimed; "or hit a boy who was under his size, and that he blacks people's boots very well and makes them shine as much as he can. He's a professional boot-black."
"And he's one of your acquaintances, is he ?" said the Earl.
"He's 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 horseshoes and heads on it.
"He gave me this," said his young lordship. 'T shall keep it always. You can wear it round your neck or keep it in your pocket. He bought it with the first money he earned after I bought Jake out and gave him the new brushes. It's a keepsake. I put some poetry in Mr. Hobbs' watch. It was, 'When this you see, remember me.' When this I see, I shall always remember Dick."
The Earl's genera! views on boys.
The sensations of the Right Honourable the Earl of Dorincourt could scarcely be described. 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, and he had not known how tender and faithful and affectionate a child can be, and how innocent and unconscious
73



axe 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 sons had given their tutors constant trouble and annoyance. 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 ridiculous by descending to an uneducated boor He had been convinced the boy would be a clownish 2) fellow if he were brought up in America. He had no feeling of affection for the lad ; his only hope was that he should find him decently well-featured, and with a respectable share of sense. When the footman had announced Lord Fauntleroy he had almost dreaded to look at the boy lest he should find him all he had feared.
The Earl feels proud of Cedric. His proud 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.
') boor = one who is rude in manners, and illiterate. *) clownish = coarse, awkward, ill-bred.
74



And then their talk began ; and he was still more puzzled. In the first place, he was so used to seeing people afraid 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 friendly. The Earl could not help seeing that the little boy took him for a friend and treated him as one, without having any doubt of him at all. And it was plain that, in his childish way, he wished to please and interest his grandfather. Cross, and hardhearted, and worldly as the old Earl was, he could not help feeling a secret and novel pleasure in this very confidence. After all, it was not disagreeable to meet some one who did not distrust or shrink from him ; some one who looked at him with unsuspecting eyes—if ') it was only a little boy in a black-velvet suit.
So the old man leaned back in his chair, and led his young companion on to telling him still more of himself, and with that odd gleam in his eyes watched the üttle feüow as he talked. Lord Fauntleroy was quite willing to answer aü his questions.
The fourth of July and the Revolution.
He told him aü about Dick and Jake, and the apple-woman, and Mr. Hobbs ; he described the Republican Rally in aü the glory of its banners and transparencies, torches and rockets. In the
>) if = though.
75



course of the conversation, he reached the Fourth of July and the Revolution, and was just becorning enthusiastic, when he suddenly remembered something and stopped very abruptly.
"What is the matter ?" demanded his grandfather. "Why don't you go on ?"
Lord Fauntleroy moved rather uneasily in his chair. It was evident to the Earl that Lord Fauntleroy was embarrassed by the thought which had just occurred to him.
"I was just thinking that perhaps you mightn't like it," he replied. "Perhaps some one belonging to you might have been there. I forgot you were an Englishman."
"You can go on," said my lord. "No one belonging to me was there. You forgot you are 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 thing as this. He feit himself grow quite hot.
"I was born in America," he protested. "You have to be an American if you are born in America. I beg your pardon," with serious politeness, "for contradicting you. Mr. Hobbs told me, if there were another war, you know, I should have to—to be an American."
76



The Eaxl 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 before dinner was announced.
Cedric offers bis shoulder to the Earl.
Cedric left his chair and went to his noble kinsman. He looked down at his gouty foot.
"Would you like me to help you ?" he said politely. "You could lean on me, you know. Once when Mr. Hobbs hurt his foot with a potatobarrel rolling on it, he used to lean on me."
The big footman almost perilled his reputation and his situation by smiling. He was an aristocratie footman who had always lived in the best of noble families, and he had never smiled; indeed, he would have feit himself disgraced and vulgar, if he had allowed himself to smüe. But now he had a very narrow escape. *)
The Earl looked his vaüant young relative over from head to foot.
"Do you think you could do it ?" he asked gruffly.
"I think I could," said Cedric. 'T'm strong.
') he had a very narrow escape = he only just escaped laughing; he very nearly laughed.
77



I'm seven, you know. You could lean on your stick on one side, and on me on the other. Dick says I' ve a good deal of muscle for a boy that's only seven."
He shut his hand and moved it upward to his shoulder, so that the Earl might see the muscle Dick had approved of.
"Well," said the Earl, "you may try."
Cedric gave him his stick, and began to assist him to rise. Usually the footman did this, and was violently sworn at when his lordship had an extra twinge of gout.
But this evening he did not swear, though his gouty foot gave him more twinges than one. He chose to try an experiment. He got up slowly and put his hand on the small shoulder presented to him with so much courage. Little Lord Fauntleroy made a careful step forward, looking down at the gouty foot.
"Just lean on me," he said, with encouraging good cheer. "1*11 walk very slowly."
It was part of bis 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. 'T'm all right—if—if it isn't a very long way."
1) braced himself sturdily — held himself firmly.
78



It was not really very far to the dining-room, but it seemed rather a long way to Cedric, before they reached the chair at the head of the table. The hand on his shoulder seemed to grow heavier at every step, and his face grew redder and hotter, and his breath shorter, but he never thought of giving up : he stiffened his childish muscles, held his head erect, and encouraged the Earl as he limped along.
"Does your foot hurt you very much when you stand on it ?" he asked. "Did you ever put it in hot water and mustard ? Mr. Hobbs used to put bis in hot water."
The big dog stalked i) slowly beside them, and the big footman followed.
When they entered the room where they were to dine, and they reached the chair, the hand was removed from his shoulder, and the Earl sat down.
Cedric took out Dick's handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
"It's a warm night, isn't it ?" he said. "Perhaps you need a fire because—because of your foot, but it seems a little warm to me."
"You have been doing some rather hard work," said the Earl.
"Oh, no !" said Lord Fauntleroy, "it wasn't exactly hard, but I got a little warm. A person will get 2) warm in summer time."
■) stalked = walked in a stately manner.
J) a person wül get = it is natural that a person should get:
79



The Earl and Cedric dine together.
And he rubbed his damp curls rather vigorously with the gorgeous J) 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.
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. To-day, however, his appetite seemed a trifle better than usual, perhaps because he had something to think of besides the dishes. His grandson gave him something to think of. He kept looking at him across the table. He did not say very much himself, but he managed to make the boy talk. He had never imagined that he could be entertained by hearing a child talk, but Lord Fauntleroy at once puzzled and amused him, and he kept remembering how he had let the childish shoulder feel his weight just for the sake of trying how far the boy's courage would go, and it pleased him to know that bis grandson had not seemed to think even for a moment of giving up what he had undertaken to do.
1) gorgeous = brilliantly coloured.
80



"You don't wear your coronet all the time ?" remarked Lord Fauntleroy respectfully.
"No," replied the Earl, with his grim smile; "it is not becoming to me."
"Mr. Hobbs said you always wore it," said Cedric; "but after he thought it over, he said he supposed you must sometimes take it off to put your hat on."
"Yes," said the Earl, "I take it off occasionally.
And one of the footmen suddenly turned aside and gave a singular little cough bebind bis hand.
Cedric finished his dinner first, and then he leaned back in his chair and took a survey of the room.
"You must be very proud of your house," he said, "it's such a beautiful house, I never saw anything so beautiful; but, of course, as I'm only seven, I haven't seen much."
"And you think I must be proud of it, do you ?" said the Earl.
"I should think any one would be proud of it/' replied Lord Fauntleroy. "I should be proud of it if it were my house. Everything about it is beautiful. And the park, and those trees, how beautiful they are, and how the leaves rustle !"
Then he paused an instant and looked across the table rather wistfully.
"It's a very big house for just two people to live in, isn't it ?" he said.
'Tt is quite large enough for two," answered the Earl. "Do you find it too large ?"
81
6. Up-to-Date Series A III.



His little lordship hesitated a moment.
"I was only tlunking," 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 hears about Dearest.
The Earl made a quick movement of his bushy eyebrows.
"Who is Dearest ?"
"She is my mother," said Lord Fauntleroy, in a rather low, quiet little voice.
Perhaps he was a trifle tired, as his bed-time was nearing, and perhaps after the excitement of the last few days it was natural he should be tired, so perhaps, too, the feeling of weariness brought to him a vague sense of loneliness in the remembrance that to-night he was not to sleep at home, watched over by the loving eyes of that "best friend" of his. They had always been "best friends", this boy and his young mother. He could not help thinking of her, and the more he thought of her, the less was he inclined to talk, and by the time the dinner was at an end the Earl saw that there was a faint shadow on his face. But Cedric bore himself with excellent courage, and when they went back to the library, though the tall footman
82



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 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 smüe.
"I was thinking about Dearest," he said; "and—and I think Td 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 üps 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 chüd, and began to foüow him uneasüy. 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 üttle
83



fellow was having with his first feeling of homesickness, but it pleased him to see that he was making so brave an effort to bear it well. He liked this childish courage.
"Come here," he said.
Fauntleroy went to him.
"I never was away from my own house before," said the boy, with a troubled look in his brown eyes. "It makes a person feel a strange feeling when he has to stay all night in another person's castle instead of in his own house.But Dearest is not very far away from me. She told me to remember that—and—and I'm seven— and I can look at the picture she gave me."
He put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a small violet velvet-covered case.
"This is it," he said. "You see, you press this spring and it opens, and she is in there !"
He had come close to the Earl's chair, and, as he drew forth the little case, he leaned against the arm of it, and against the old man's arm too, as confidingly as if children had always leaned there.
The Earl has a glimpse of Dearest.
„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 hrmself; 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.
84



"I suppose you think you are very fond of her ?" he said.
"Yes," answered Lord Fauntleroy, in a gentle tone, and with sirnple 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 teil each other everything. My father left her to me to take care of, and when I am a man I am going to work and earn money for her."
"What do you think of doing ?" inquired his grandfather.
His young lordship slipped down upon the hearth-rug, and sat there with the picture still in his hand. He seemed to be reflecting seriously before he answered.
"I did think perhaps I might go into business with Mr. Hobbs," he said ; "but I should like to be a President."
"We'U send you to the House of Lords i) instead," said his grandfather.
"Well," remarked Lord Fauntleroy, "if I couldn't be a President, and if that is a good business, I shouldn't mind. The grocery business is dull 2) sometimes."
•) In England are two governing or legislative bodies: the House of Lords, which, more or less, corresponds to our First Chamber, but consists only of Lords: Lords temporal or lay Peers, and Lords spiritual or Bishops ; the House of Commons, corresponding to our Second Chamber, the members of which are elected by the people. *) dull = little is sold ; Dutch : slap
85



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 bis head on his huge paws. There was a long silence.
In about half an hour's time Mr. Havisham was ushered !) in. The great room was very still when he entered. The Earl was still leaning back in his chair. He moved as Mr. Havisham approached, and held up his hand in a gesture of warning.
Dougal was still asleep and close beside the great dog, sleeping also, with his curly head upon his arm, lay little Lord Fauntleroy.
Ceddie gets acquainted with Dawson.
When Lord Fauntleroy wakened in the morning—he had not wakened at all when he had been carried to bed the night before, —the first sounds he was conscious of were the crackling of a woodfire and the murmur of voices.
There were two women in the room. Everything was bright and cheerful. There was a fire on the hearth, and the shunshine was streaming in through the windows. Both women came toward him, and he saw that one of them was Mrs. Mellon, the housekeeper, and the other a
') ushered in = announced, shown into the room.
86



middle-aged woman, with a face as kind and good-humoured as a face could be.
"Good-morning, my lord," said Mrs. Mellon. "Did you sleep well ?"
His lordship rubbed his eyes and smiled.
"Good-morning,'' he said. "I didn't know I was here."
"You were carried upstairs when you were asleep," said the housekeeper. "This is your bedroom, and this is Dawson, who is to take care of you."
Fauntleroy sat up in bed and held out his hand to Dawson, as he had held it out to the Earl.
"How do you do, ma'am ?" he said. 'T'm much obliged to you for coming to take care of me."
"You can call her Dawson, my lord," said the housekeeper with a smile.
"Miss Dawson, or Mrs. Dawson ?" inquired his lordship.
"Just Dawson, my lord," said Dawson herself, beaming all over. "Neither Miss nor Missis. 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. "We had only Mary to do all the work; and so of course it wouldn't do ï) to give her so much trouble. I can take my bath. too, if you'11 just be kind enough to 'zamine 2) the corners after I have done."
1) wouldn't do = wasn't fair; 't ging niet aan.
2) 'zamine = examine.
87



"Dawson will do anything you ask her," said Mrs. Mellon.
"That I will," said Dawson, in her goodhumoured voice. "He shall dress himself if he likes, and Til stand by, ready to help Ifim if he wants me."
"Thank you," responded Lord Fauntleroy; "it's a üttle hard sometimes about the buttons, you know, and then I have to ask somebody."
A very boy little in a big house.
When he went into the adjoining room to take his breakfast and saw what a great room it was, and found there was another adjoining it, which Dawson told him was his also, the feeling that he was very small indeed came over him again so strongly that he confided it to Dawson.
"I am a very üttle boy," he said rather wistfuüy, "to üve in such a large castle, and have so many big rooms—don't you think so ?"
"Oh, come!" said Dawson, "you feel just a üttle strange at first, that's aü; but you'U get over that very soon, and then you'U üke it here. It's such a beautiful place, you know."
"It's a very beautiful place, of course," said Fauntleroy, with a üttle sigh ; "but I shoud üke it better if I didn't miss Dearest so."
"Oh, weü !" answered Dawson, "you know you can see her every day, and there's no knowing i) how much you'U have to teU her; wait tül you've walked about a bit and seen things—the dogs,
l) there's no knowing = nobody can teil.
88



and the stables with all the horses in them."
'T'm very fond of horses. I was very fond of Jim. He was the horse that belonged to Mr. Hobbs's grocery waggon. He was a beautiful horse."
"And you haven't looked even into the very next room yet!"
"What is there ?" asked Fauntleroy.
"Wait until you've had your breakfast, and then you shall see," said Dawson.
At this he naturally began to grow curious, and he applied himself to his breakfast for some time.
"Now then," he said, slipping off his seat a few mmutes later; 'T've had enough. Can I go and look at it ?"
Dawson nodded and led the way.
Had anyone such a kind grandfather?
When she opened the door of the room, he stood upon the threshold and looked about him in amazement. He did not speak; he only put his hands in his pockets and stood there flushing up to his forehead and looking in.
The room was a large one, too, and it appeared to him more beautiful than the rest, only in a different way. The furniture was not so massive and antique as was that in the rooms he had seen downstairs; the draperies and rugs and walls were brighter ; there were shelves full of books, and on the tables were numbers of toys—beautiful things—such as he had looked at with wonder and delight through the shop windows in New York.
89



'Tt looks like a boy's room," he said at last "Who 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 shout. It seemed almost too much to be believed. "It was Grandpapa !" he said, with his eyes as bright as stars. "I know it was Grandpapa!"
"Yes, it was his lordship," said Dawson ; "and if you will en joy yourself, and be happy all the day, he will give you anything you ask for."
It was a tremendously exciting morning. There were so many things to be examined, so many experiments to be tried ; each novelty was so absorbing that he could scarcely turn from it to look at the next.
"Did you ever know any one," he said to Dawson, "who had such a kind grandfather!"
Dawson's face wore an uncertain expression for a moment. She had not a very high opinion of his lordship the Earl. She had not been in the house many days, but she had been there long enough to hear the old nobleman's peculiarities discussed very freely in the servants' hall.
"An' of all the vicious, savage, ül-tempered old fellows it was ever my ill-luck to wear livery under," the tallest footman had said, "he's the worst."
And this footman had also repeated to his
90



companions some of the Earl's remarks to Mr. Havisham, when they had been discussing these very playthings.
"Give him his own way, ') and fill his rooms with toys," my lord had said, "and he'11 forget about his mother quickly enough. That's boynature."
The Earl had passed a bad night and had spent the morning in his room ; but at noon, after he had lunched, he sent for his grandson.
Faunleroy answered the summons 2) at once. He came bounding down the broad staircase; the Earl heard him run across the hall, and then the door opened and he came in with red cheeks and sparkhng eyes.
"I was waiting for you to send for me," he said. "Tm ever so much obliged to you for all those things ! I'm ever so much obliged to you ! I have been playing with them all the morning."
"Oh !" said the Earl, "you like them, do you ?"
"I like them so much—well, I couldn't teil you how much !" said Fauntleroy, his face glowing with delight. "There's one that's like base-ball, 3) only you play it on a board with black and white pegs. I tried to teach Dawson, but she couldn't quite understand it. But you know all about it, don't you ?"
"I'm afraid I don't," replied the Earl. "It's an
1) give him his own way = let him do what he likes.
2) answered the summons = in answer to the call he went.
3) Base-ball is the national game of the United States.
91



American game, isn't it ? Is it something like cricket ?" The Earl and Cedric play base ball.
'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 3'ou like me to go and get my game and show it to you ? Perhaps it would amuse you and make you forget about your foot. Does your foot hurt you very much this morning ?"
"More than I enjoy," was the answer.
"Then perhaps you couldn't forget it," said the little fellow, anxiously. "Perhaps it would bother you to be told about the game. Do you think it would amuse you, or do you think it would bother you ?"
"Go and get it," said the Earl.
It certainly was a novel entertainment this— making a companion of a child who offered to teach him to play games, but the very novelty of it amused him. There was a smile about the Earl's mouth when Cedric came back with the box containing the game in his arms.
"May I pull that little table over here to your chair ?" he asked.
"Very well," replied his grandfather. The smile deepened on the old man's face as he watched the little fellow's preparations. The small table was dragged forward and placed by bis chair, and the game taken from its box and arranged upon it.
') bother = cause annoyance.
92



"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."
He entered into the details of explanation with the greatest animation. His vigorous, graceful üttle body, his eager gestures, his sünple enjoyment of it aü were pleasant to behold.
When at last the explanations and illustrations were at an end and the game began in good earnest, the Earl stül found himself entertained. His young companion was whoüy absorbed ; he played with aü bis childish heart; lus gay laughs, his enthusiasm, his impartial deüght over his own good luck or his opponent's would have given a flavour !) to any game.
If, a week before, any one had told the Earl of Dorincourt that on that particular morning he would be forgetting his gout and his bad temper in a child's game, played with black and white wooden pegs, on a gaüy painted board, with a curly-headed small boy for a companion, he would without doubt have made himself very unpleasant; and yet he certainly had forgotten himself when the door opened and Thomas announced a visitor. Mr. Mordaunt it stupified.
The visitor in question, who was no less a person than the clergyman of the parish, was so startled by the amazing scène which met his
') given a flavour to = made pleasant.
93



eye, that he almost feil back a pace, and ran some risk of colliding with Thomas.
There was no part of his duty that the Reverend Mr. Mordaunt found so decidedly unpleasant as that part which compelled him to call upon his noble patron at the Castle. His noble patron, indeed, usually made these visits as disagreeable as it lay in his 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. 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 do any one a kindness, or show that he thought of any one but himself.
He had called to-day to speak to him of a specially pressing case, and as he had walked up the avenue, he had dreaded his visit more than usual. He knew that his lordship had for several days been suffering from the gout, and had been in so villainous a humour that rumours of it had even reached the village.
Judge then of his amazement when, as Thomas opened the library door, bis ears were greeted by a delighted ring of childish laughter.
"That's two out," almost shouted an excited, clear little voice. "You see it's two out!"
And there was the Earl's chair, and the gout-
1) In the English Church the rector is the clergyman who has the charge and cure of a parish.
94



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 üttle boy with face glowing, and eyes dancing with excitement. "It's two out!" the üttle stranger cried. "You hadn't any luck that time, had you ?"—And then they both recognised at once that some one had come in.
The Earl is more pleasant than usual.
The Earl glanced around, and when he saw who it was, Mr. Mordaunt was stül 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 unpleasant he reaüy could make himself when he tried.
"Ah !" he said in his harsh voice, but giving his hand rather graciously. "Good morning, Mordaunt. I've found a new employment, you see."
He put his other hand on Cedric's shoulder— perhaps deep down in his heart there was a stir of gratified pride that it was such an heir he had to present; there was a spark of something üke pleasure in his eyes as he moved the boy süghtly forward.
"This is the new Lord Fauntleroy," he said. "Fauntleroy, this is Mr. Mordaunt, the rector of the parish."
Fauntleroy looked up at the gentleman in the clerical garments, and gave him his hand.
"I am very glad to make your acquaintance,
95



sir," he said, remembering the words he had heard Mr. Hobbs use on one or two occasions when he had been greeting a new customer with ceremony. Cedric feit quite sure that one ought to be more than usually polite to a minister, i)
Mr. Mordaunt held the small hand in his a moment as he looked down at the child's face, smiling involuntarily. He liked the little fellow from that instant—as in fact people always did like him. And it was not the boy's beauty and grace which most appealed to him ; it was the simple natural kindliness in the little lad which made any words he uttered sound pleasant and sincere. As the rector looked at Cedric, he forgot to think of the Earl at all. Nothing in the world is so strong as a kind heart, and somehow this kind child seemed to clear all the atmosphere of the big gloomy room and make it brighter.
"I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Lord Fauntleroy," said the rector. "You made a long journey to come to us. A great many people will be glad to know you made it safely."
"It was a long way," answered Fauntleroy; "but Dearest, my mother, was with me and I wasn't lonely. Of course you are never lonely if your mother is with you ; and the ship was beautiful."
"Take a chair, Mordaunt," said the Earl. Mr. Mordaunt sat down. He glanced from Fauntleroy to the Earl.
1) minister = clergyman, parson.
96



"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'11 conduct himself more creditably." And then he added: "Well, what is it this morning, Mordaunt ? Who is in trouble now ?"
This was not as bad as Mr. Mordaunt had expected, but he hesitated a second before he began. Higgins and Michael the bricklayer.
"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. He is in trouble about his rent now. Newick tells him if he doesn't pay it he must leave the place; and of course that would be a very serious matter. His wife is ill, and he came to me yesterday to beg me to see you about it, and ask you for time. He thinks if you would give him time he could catch up again." i)
"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. His eyes fixed upon Mr. Mordaunt with intense interest as that gentleman went on with the conversation.
"Higgins is a well-meaning man," said the
') catch up again = pay bis standing debts.
7. Up-to-Date Series A III.
97



rector making an effort to strengthen his plea. 1) "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 hun they may literally starve. 2) He cannot give them the nourishing things they need. Two of the children were left very low 3) after the fever, and the doctor orders for them wine and luxuries that Higgins cannot afford."
At this Fauntleroy moved a step nearer.
"That was the way with Michael," he said.
The Earl süghtly started ; "I forgot you !" he said. "I forgot we had a philanthropist 4) in the room. Who was Michael?" And the gleam of queer amusement came back into the old man's deep-set eyes.
"He was Bridget's husband, who had the fever," answered Fauntleroy; "and he couldn't pay the rent or buy wine and things. And you gave me that money to help him."
The Earl glanced across at Mr. Mordaunt.
"I don't know what sort of a landed 5) proprietor he will make," he said. "I told Havisham the
1) plea = request.
2) starve = die of hunger. ') low = weak.
*) philanthropist = one who wishes well to his fellow-men, and exerts himself in doing them good.
5) landed proprietor = a man, having a property or estate in land.
98



boy was to have what he wanted—and what he wanted, it seems, was money to give to beegars." 6
"Oh ! but they weren't beggars," said Fauntleroy eagerly. "Michael was a splendid bricklayer! They all worked."
"O!" said the Earl, "they were not beggars They were spendid bricklayers, and bootblacks and apple-women."
Lord Fauntleroy as a landlord.
He bent his gaze i) on the boy fora few seconds m silence. The fact was that a new thought was coming to him, and it was not a bad thought "Come here," he said, at last.
Fauntleroy went and stood near him.
"What would you do in this case ?" bis lordship asked.
Mr. Mordaunt realized very strongly 2) wnat power for good or evil would be given in the future to this one small boy standing there, his brown eyes wide open, his hands deep in his pockets ; and the thought came to him also that a great deal of power might, perhaps, through the caprice of a proud, old man be given to hun now, and that if his young nature were not a simple and genereus one, it might be the worst thing that could happen.
"And what would you do in such a case ?" demanded the Earl.
•) bent his gaze — gazed.
*) realized very strongly = saw very clearly.
99



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, 'T should let him stay, and give him the things for bis children ; but then, I am only a boy." Then after a second's pause, in which his face brightened visibly, "You can do anything, can't you ?" he said.
"Humph!" said my lord, staring at him. "That's your opinion, is it ?" And he was not displeased either.
"I mean you can give any one anything," said Fauntleroy. "Who's Newick ?"
"He is my agent i)," 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."
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 2). In a few moments, the sheet of paper, the big inkstand and the pen were ready.
i) my agent = the man who looks after my estate. *) deftly = cleverly.
100



"There I" he said gaily, "now you can write it." "You are to write it," said the Earl. "I!" exclaimed Fauntleroy, and a flush overspread his forehead. "Will it do i) if I write it? I don't always spell quite right when I haven'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 2) a little.
"Yes," he answered; "Higgins will find it entirely satisfactory." And he handed it to Mr. Mordaunt.
1) witt it do = will it be sufficiënt'. a) twitched = moved nervously.
101



Cedric's first act of power.
What Mr. Mordaunt found written was this :—
"Dear mr. Newik if you pleas mr. higins is not to be inturfeared with for the present and oblige.
"Yours rispecferly i)
"Fauntleroy."
"Mr. Hobbs always signed his letters that way," said Fauntleroy ; "and I thought I'd better say 'please.' Is that exactly the right way to spell 'interfered' ?"
"It's not exactly the way it is spelled in the dictionary," answered the Earl.
"I was afraid of that," said Fauntleroy. "I ought to have asked. You see, that's the way with words of more than one syllable ; you have to look in the dictionary. It's always safest. 1*11 write it over again."
And write it over again he did, making quite an imposing 2) copy, and taking precautions in the matter of spelling by Consulting the Earl himself.
When Mr. Mordaunt went away, he took the letter with him, and he took' something else with him also—namely, a pleasanter feeling and a more hopeful one than he had ever carried home with him down that avenue on any previous visit he had made at Dorincourt Castle.
When he was gone, Fauntleroy, who had accompanied him to the door, went back to his grandfather.
*) rispecferly = respectfully. *) imposing = magnificent.
102



His first visit to Dearest.
"May I go to Dearest now ?" he said. 'T think she will be waiting for me."
"There is something in the stable for you to see first," he said. "Ring the bell."
"If you please," said Fauntleroy, with his quick little flush, "I'm very much obliged; but I think T d better see it to-morrow. She will be expecting me all the time."
"Very well," answered the Earl. "We will order the carriage." Then he added dryly, "It's a pony."
Fauntleroy drew a long breath.
"A pony !" he exclaimed. "Whose pony is it ?"
"Yours," replied the Earl.
"Mine ?" cried the little fellow. "Mine—like the things u pst airs ?"
"Yes," said his grandfather. "Would you like to see it ? Shall I order it to be brought round ?" i)
Fauntleroy's cheeks grew redder and redder.
"I never thought I should have a pony!" he said. "I never thought that! How glad Dearest will be. You give me everything, don't you ?"
"Do you wish to see it ?" inquired the Earl.
Fauntleroy drew a long breath. "I want to see it," he said. "I want to see it so much I can hardly wait. But I'm afraid there isn't time."
"You must go and see your mother this after* noon ?" asked the Earl. "You think you can't put it off ?"
"Why," said Fauntleroy, "she has been think-
') round = from the stable to the house.
103



ing 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 colour was it ? How big was it ? What was its name ? What did it 1ike to eat best ? How old Was it ? How early in the morning might he get up and see it ?
"Dearest will be so glad!" he kept saying. "She will be so much obliged to you for being so kind to me ! She knows I always liked ponies so much, but we never thought I should have one. There was a little boy on Fifth Avenue who had one, and he used to ride out every morning and we used to take a walk past his house to see him."
He leaned back against the cushions and regarded the Earl with rapt interest for a few minutes and in entire silence.
Cedric states his opinion of the Earl.
"I think you must be the best person in the world," he burst forth at last. "You are always doing good, aren't you—and tliinking about other people. Dearest says that is the best kind of goodness; not to think about yourself, but to think about other people. That is just the way you are, isn't it ?"
His lordship was so dumbfounded to find
104



himself presented in such agreeable colours, that he did not know exactly what to say. He feit that he needed time for reflection. To see each of his ugly, selfish motives changed into a good and generous one by the simplicity of a child was a singular experience.
Fauntleroy went on, still regarding him with admiring eyes—those great, clear, innocent eyes !
"You make so many people happy," he said. "There's Michael and Bridget and their ten children, and the apple-woman, and Dick and Mr. Hobbs, and Mr. Higgins and Mrs. Higgins and their children, and Mr. Mordaunt—because of course he was glad—and Dearest and me, about the pony and all the other things. Do you know, I've counted it up on my fingers and in my mind, and it's twenty-seven people you've been kind to. That's a good many—twenty seven!"
"And I was the person who was kind to them —was ï ?" said the Earl.
"Why, yes, you know," answered Fauntleroy. "You made them all happy. Do you know," with some delicate hesitation, "that people are sometimes mistaken about earls when they don't know them. Mr. Hobbs was. I am going to write to him, and teil him about it."
"What was Mr. Hobbs' opinion of earls?" asked his lordship.
"Well, you see, the difficulty was," replied his young companion, "that he didn't know any, and he'd only read about them in books. He thought
105



—you mustn't mind it—that they were gory i) tyrants; and he said he wouldn't have them hanging around his store. But if he'd known you, I'm sure he would have feit quite different. I shall teil him about you."
"What shall you teil him ?"
"I shall teil him," said Fauntleroy, glowing with enthusiasm, "that you are the kindest man I ever heard of. And you are always thinking of other people, and making them happy, and— and I hope, when I grow up, I shall be just like you."
"Just like me !" repeated bis lordship, looking at the little kindling 2) face. And a dull red crept up under his withered 3) skin, and he suddenly turned his eyes away and looked out of the carriage window,
He did not observe the landscape, however. He saw a long life, in which there had been neither generous deeds nor kind thoughts; he saw years in which a man who had been young and strong and rich and powerful had used his youth and strength and wealth and power only to please himself and kill time ; he saw this man, when old age had come, solitary and without friends in the midst of all his splendid wealth; he saw people who disliked or feared him, and people who would flatter him, but no one who really cared whether he lived or died, unless
') gory = bloody. a) kindling = glowing with excitement or enthusiasm. s) withered = wrinkled.
106



they had something to gain or lose by it. And he knew that there was probably not one person, however much he envied the wealth and stately name and power, who would for an instant have thought of calling the noble owner "good," or wishing, as this simple-souled little boy did, to be like him.
And it was not exactly pleasant to reflect upon, even for a worldly old man, who had never deigned to care what opinion the world held of him so long as it did not interfere with bis comfort.
They had reached Court Lodge at last; and Fauntleroy was out upon the ground almost before the big footman had time to open the carriage door.
The Earl wakened from his rêverie with a start.
"What!" he said. "Are we there ?"
"Yes," said Fauntleroy. "Let me give you your stick. Just lean on me when you get out."
"I am not going to get out," replied his lordship brusquely.
"Not—not to see Dearest ?" exclaimed Fauntleroy with astonished face.
" 'Dearest' will excuse me," said the Earl dryly. "Go to her and teil her that not even a new pony could keep you away."
"She will be disappointed," said Fauntleroy. "She will want to see you very much."
"I am afraid not," was the answer. "The carriage will call for you as we come back—Teil Jeffries to drive on, Thomas."
107



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 strong little legs flash over the ground with astonishing rapidity. 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 with kisses. The Earl and Cedric in the family-pew. *)
On the following Sunday morning the vülagechurch was crowded, for all sorts of tales about the little Lord had been spread, and they expected to see him coming to church.
It was by no means the Eari's habit to attend church, but he chose to appear on this first Sunday with Fauntleroy at his side.
There were many loiterers in the churchyard 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.
Suddenly the carriage from te Castle, with its handsome horses and tall liveried servants b owled 2) round the corner and down the green lane.
') family-pew = a fixed seat in a church, enclosed and separated from t nose adjoining by a partition, and belonging to a family. *) bowled = came swiftly.
108



"Here they come!" went from one looker-on to another.
And then the carriage drew i) up, and Thomas stepped down and opened the door, and a little boy, dressed in black velvet, and with bright waving hair, jumped out.
Every man, woman, and child looked curiously upon him.
"He's the Captain over again !" 2) said those of the on-lookers who remembered bis father.
He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the Earl, as Thomas helped that nobleman out. 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 tbe breast of his grandson.
"Just lean on me," they heard him say. "How glad the people are to see you, and how well they all seem to know you!"
"Take off your cap, Fauntleroy," said the Earl. "They are bowing to you."
"To me!" cried Fauntleroy, whipping off his cap in a moment, as he tried to bow to every one at once.
"God bless your lordship !" said a red-cloaked old woman, "long life to you !"
"Thank you, ma'am," said Fauntleroy. And then they went into the church. When Fauntleroy
1) drew up = stopped.
*) over again = exactly like the captain.
IOQ



was fairly seated he made two discoveries which pleased him : the first was 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 i) in stone. On the tablet by them was written something of which he could only read the very curious words :
"Here lyethe 2) ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure Fyrst Earle of Dorincourt allsoe of Alisone Hildegarde hys wyfe."
"May I whisper ?" inquired his lordship, devoured by cirriosity.
"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 3). When the music began, he stood up and looked aross 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, bis pure, high voice rising as clear as the song of a bird. He quite
') carven = carved or cut.
*) Here lyethe, etc. = here lies the body of Gregory Arthur, First Earl of Dorincourt; also of Alison Hildegarde, his wife.
s) to find his place in the church service = to find the place in the prayer-book to which the clergyman, leading the service, had come.
110



forgot himself in his pleasure in it. His mother, as she looked at him across the church, feit a thrül pass through her heart, and a prayer rose in it to©; 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 evil with it.
The best thing of all for man.
"Oh, Ceddie I" she had said to him the evening before; "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 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 could be like you."
"And what did she say to that ?" asked his lordship, a trifle uneasily.
"She said that was right, and we must always look for good in people and try to be like it."
') ever so little = very, very little.
III



Perhaps it was this the old man remembered as he glanced through the divided folds of the red curtain of his pew. Many times he looked over the people's heads to where his son's wife sat alone, and he saw the fair face the unforgiven dead had loved, and the eyes which were so like those of the child at his side; but what his thoughts were, and whether they were hard and bitter, or softened a little, it would have been hard to discover.
Higgins thanks the little Lord.
As they came out of the church, many of those who had attended the service stood waiting to see them pass. As they neared the gate, a man who stood with his hat in his hand made a step forward and then hesitated. He was a middleaged farmer, with a careworn face.
"Well, Higgins," said the EarL
Fauntleroy turned quickly to look at him.
"Oh I" he exclaimed; "is it Mr. Higgins ?"
"Yes," answered the Earl dryly ; "and I suppose he comes 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 allo wed."
Perhaps he feit some wonder when he saw what a little fellow it was who had innocently done so much for him.
112



'T've a great deal to thank your lordship
for, he said; "a great deal. I "
"Oh/' said Fauntleroy; "I only wrote the letter. It was my grandfather who did it But you know how he is about always being good to eyerybody. Is Mrs. Higgins well now ?"
Higgins looked somewhat startled at hearing his noble landlord presented in the character of a benevolent being.
"I—well, yes, your lordship," he stammered • 'the missus i) is better since the trouble was took 2) off her mind."
"I'm glad of that," said Fauntleroy. "My grandfather was very sorry about your children havinr the scarlet f e ver, and so was I. He has had children himself. I'am his son's little boy, you know."
Higgins feit it would be the safer 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 twicea year, and that when they had been ill, he had promptly departed for London, because he would not be bored with doctors and nurses. It was a little trying 3) therefore to his lordship's nerves to be told, whilé he looked on, that he feit an interest in scarlet fever.
"You see, Higgins," broke in the Earl with a fine grim smüe ; "you people have been mistaken m me. Lord Fauntleroy understands me. When you want reüable information on the subject of
•) the missus = the mistress, my wife
*) took = taken.
') trying = hard to bear.
8. Up-to-Date Series A III.
"3



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.
The Earl is proud of bis grandson.
Lord Dorincourt had occasion to wear his grim smile many a time as the days passed by. There is no denying that before Lord Fauntleroy had appeared on the sence, the old man had been growing very tired of his loneliness and his gout and his seventy years; but when he came, and when the Earl saw the lad, fortunately for the little fellow, the secret pride of the grandfather was gratified at the outset If Cedric had been a less handsome and clever little fellow the old man might haven taken so strong a dislike to the boy 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 Dorincourt blood and a credit to the Dorincourt rank. 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,
') ai the outset = from the beginning.
114



even m his childhood. Then it had gratified him to drive to church with Cedric and to see the excitement and interest caused by the arrival fhe Earl was 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.
Tha m . .1 A successful lesson in ridine.
The morning the new pony had been triedhe had been so pleased that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom had brought out the
ZniïJTTlïT\ïhe Earl had at the ^en window of the hbrary and had looked on whüe
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 i). 6 Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had
?fcT£- t*ï °* -a P°ny before' ^ fae was in the highest spints. Wilkins, the groom. led the animal by the bridle up and down béfore the üDrary wmdow.
"He's a well- plucked 2) one, he is," Wilkins remarked m the stable afterward with many gruis. It was no trouble to put him up. An' old one wouldn't have sat any straighter Says
ï \™>^m™>' he ^vs, 'am I sitting ^ straight? They sit up straight at the circus/ says he An' I say, 'As straight as an arrow your lordship V - an* he laughs, as pleased as"
"5



could be, an' he says, 'That's right, you teil me if I don't sit up straight, Wilkins.' "
But sitting up straight and being led at a walk J) were not altogether satisfactory. After a few minutes Fauntleroy spoke to his grandfather, watching him from the window.
"Can't I go by myself ?" he asked ; "and can't I go faster ? The boy on Fifth Avenue used to trot and canter!"
"Do you think you could trot and canter ?" said the Earl.
"I should like to try," answered Fauntleroy.
His lordship made a sign to Wilkins, who at the signal brought up his own horse and mounted it and took Fauntleroy's pony by the leading-rein.
"Now," said the Earl, "let him trot."
The next few minutes were rather exciting to the small equestrian 2). He found that trotting was not so easy as walking, and the faster the pony trotted, the less easy it was.
"ït j-jolts a g-goo-good deal—do-doesn't it ?" he said to Wilkins. "D-does it j-jolt y-you ?"
"No, my lord, " answered Wilkins. "You'll get used to it in time. Rise in your stirrups."
"Tm ri-rising all the t-time," said Fauntleroy.
He was both rising and falling rather uncomfortably. 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
') at a walk = at a walking pace. *) equestrian = a rider, a horseman.
116



from bis window. When the riders came back within speaking distance, after they had been bidden by the trees a few minutes, Fauntleroy's hat was off, his cheeks were glowing, 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 feil off, lordship." he said, with evident enjoyment. "Wouldn't let me stop to piek it up, my lord." "Not much afraid, is he ?" asked the Earl dryly. "Him, your lordship !" exclaimed' Wilkins. "I shouldn't say as he knew what it meant. I've taught young gen'lemen to ride before an' I never saw one stick on better."
"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. 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 colour crept up in the fierce old face, and the eyes gleamed with a pleasure such as his lordship had scarcely expected to know again. And he sat and watched quite eagerly
117



until the sound of the horses' hoofs returned. When they did come, which was after some time, they came at a faster pace. Fauntleroy's hat was still off, Wilkins was carrying it for him ; his cheeks were redder than before, and his hair was flying about bis ears, but he came at quite a brisk canter.
"There!" he panted, as they drew up. "I c-cantered. I didn't do it as well as the boy on the Fifth Avenue, but I did it, and I stayed on !"
The little Lord mixes with people.
He and Wilkins and the pony were close friends after that. Scarcely a day passed on which the country people did not see them out together cantering gaily 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 marnier, though with great heartiness. Sometimes he would stop and talk with the children, and once Wilkins came back to the Castle with a story of how Fauntleroy had insisted on dismounting near the village school, so that a boy who was lame ï) and tired might ride home on his pony.
"And he wouldn't let me get down," said Wilkins, in telling the story at the stables,
') lame — crippled.
118



"because the boy mightn't feel comfortable on a big horse. And says he, 'Wilkins, that bo/s lame and I'm not and I want to talk to him too.' And up the lad has to get, and my lord steps alongside of him with his hands in his pockets, and his cap on the back of his head, whistling and talking as easy i) as you please ! And when we come to the cottage, an' the boy's mother comes out to see what's up 2), he whips off his cap an' says he, 'I've brought your son son home, ma'am,' says he, 'because bis 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."
When the Earl heard the story, he laughed outright 3) and called Fauntleroy up to him, and made him teil all about the matter from beginning to end, and then he laughed again. And actually, a few days later, the Dorincourt carriage stopped in the green lane before the cottage where the lame boy lived, and Fauntleroy jumped out and walked up to the door, carrying a pair of strong, light, new crutches, shouldered like a gun, and presented them to Mrs. Hartle (the lame boy's name was Hartle) with these words: "My grandfather's compliments, and if you please, these are for your boy, and we hope he will get better."
"I said your compliments," he explained to the Earl when he returned to the carriage. "You
i) easy = at bis ease. J) what's up = what is the matter. s) outright - heartily.
119



didn't teil me to, but I thought perhaps you forgot. That was right, wasn't it ?"
And the Earl laughed again, and did not say it was not. In fact, the two were becoming more intimate every day, and every day Fauntleroy's f aith in his lordship's benevolence and virtue increased.
A beautiful carriage for Dearest.
But the one action of the Earl's which had set him upon the pinnacle J) of perfection in Cedric's eyes, was what he had done soon after that first Sunday when Mrs. Errol had walked home from ehurch. About a week later, when Cedric was going one day to visit his mother, he found at the door, instead of the large carriage, a pretty üttle brougham 2) and a handsome bay horse 3).
"That is a present from you to your mother," the Earl said abruptly. "She cannot go walking about the country. She needs a carriage. The man who drives wül take charge of it. It is a present from you."
Fauntleroy could scarcely contain himself untü he reached the lodge. His mother was gathering roses in the garden. He flung himself out of the üttle brougham and flew to her.
"Dearest!" he cried ; "could you believe it ? This is yours! He says it is a present from me. It is your own carriage to drive everywhere in !"
He was so happy that she did not know what to
!) pinnacle = highest point. J) brougham = a one-horse, closed carriage, with two or four wheels, for two or four persons. *) bay = reddish brown.
120



say. She could not have borne to spoil his pleasure by refusing to accept the gift, even though it came from the man who chose to consider himself her enemy. She was obliged to step into the carriage, roses and all, and let herself be taken for a drive while Fauntleroy told her stories of his grandfather's goodness and amiabüity.
The very next day after that, Fauntleroy wrote Mr. Hobbs 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 teil me the mistakes, ril write it out again."
At the end of the letter the Earl read: "I wish Dearest could live at the castle; but I am very happy when I don't miss her too much."
"Do you miss your mother very much ?" he asked when he had finished reading this.
' 'Yes,'' said Fauntleroy,' T miss her all the time.''
He went and stood before the Earl and put his hand on his knee looking up at him.
"You don't miss her, do you ?" he said.
"I don't miss her," answered his lordship rather crustily J).
"I know that," said Fauntleroy, "and that's what makes me wonder. She told me not to ask you any questions, and—and I won't, but sometimes I can't help thinking, you know, and it makes me all puzzled. But when I miss her
•) crustily = roughly.
121



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'm quite safe all the time "
"Quite, I have no doubt," said his lordship dryly. And he drew down his eyebrows and looked at the üttle boy so fixedly and so long that Fauntleroy wondered what he could be thinking of. Cedric's inflaence upon the Earl.
The fact was, his lordship the Earl of Dorincourt thought in those days of many things of which he had never thought before. Sometimes in secret he actuaüy 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 innocent face would look if its owner should be made to understand that his grandfather had been caüed "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
122



new interest he forgot his gout and after a while his doctor was surprised to find his noble patient's health growing better.
One fine morning, people were amazed to see little Lord Fauntleroy riding his pony with another companion than Wilkins. This new companion rode a tall, powerfull gray horse, and was no other than the Earl himself. It was, in fact, Fauntleroy who had suggested this plan. As he had been on the point of mounting his pony he had said rather wistfully ') to his grandfather:
"I wish you were going with me. When I go away I feel lonely because you are left all by yourself in such a big castle. I wish you could ride too."
And the greatest excitement had been aroused in the stables a few minutes later by the arrival of an order that Selim was to be saddled for the Earl. After that, Selim was saddled almost every day ; and 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 Fauntleroy. And in their rides together through the green lanes and country roads, the two riders became more intimate than ever. And gradually the old man heard a great deal about "Dearest."
One thing that the Earl discovered was that his son's wife did not lead an idle life ; that the poor people knew her very well indeed. When there
') wistfully 1= thoughtfnlly, pensively.
123



was sickness or sorrow or poverty in any house, the little brougham often stood before the door.
"Do you know," said Fauntleroy once, "they all say, 'God bless you'! when they see her, and the children are glad. There are some who go to her house to be taught to sew. She says she feels so rich now that she wants to help the poor ones."
It had not displeased the Earl to find that the mother of his heir looked as much like a lady as if she had been a duchess, and it did not displease him to know that she was popular and beloved by the poor. And yet he was often conscious of a 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 i) first himself and have no rival.
The Earl, a builder of model-cottages.
It was after one of those visits to his mother, that Fauntleroy came into the library with a troubled, thoughtful face. He sat down in that high-backed chair in which he had sat on the evening of his arrival, and for a whüe he looked at the embers on the hearth. At last he looked up. "Does Newick know all about the people ?" he asked.
"It is his business to know about them," said his lordship. "Been neglecting it—has he ?"
i) to stand first = to be loved most.
124



"There is a place," said Fauntleroy, looking up at him with wide-open, horror-stricken eyes— "Dearest has seen it; it is at the other end of the village. The houses are close together, and almost falling down ; you can scarcely breathe; and the people are so poor, and everything is dreadful! Often they have fever, and the children die ; and it makes them wicked to live like that, and be so poor and miserable ! It is worse than Michael and Bridget! The rain comes in at the roof! Dearest went to see a poor woman who lived there. She would not let me come near her until she had changed all her things. The tears ran down her cheeks when she told me about it I"
The tears had come into his own eyes, but he smiled through them.
"I told her you didn't know, and I would teil 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 teil you."
The Earl looked down at the hand on nis knee. Newick had not forgotten to teil 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. Mr. Mordaunt had painted it all to him in the strongest words he could use, and his lordship had said that the sooner the people of Earl's Court died and were
»5



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 earnest face! he was actuaüy a üttle ashamed both of Earl's Court and of himself.
"What!" he said ; "you want to make a buüder of model-cottages of me, do you ?"
"Those must be puüed down," said Fauntleroy, with great eagerness. "Dearest says so. Let us—let us go and have them puüed down to-morrow. The people wül be so glad when they see you ! They'U know you have come to help them!"
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 ten-ace, he seemed to be thinking of something which did not displease him, and stül he kept his hand on his smaü companion's shoulder.
Next morning he sent for Newick, and had quite a long interview with him on the subject of the Court, and it was decided that the wretched hovels should be pulled down and new houses should be buüt.
'Tt is Lord Fauntleroy who insists on it," he said dryly; "he tliinks it wül improve the property. You can teü the tenants that it's his idea."
126



Building the new cottages.
Of course, both the country people and the town people heard of the proposed improvement. At first, many of them would not believe it; but when a small army of workmen arrived and commenced pulling down the squaüd i) cottages, people began to understand that little Lord Fauntleroy had done them a good turn 2) 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, how astonished he would have been ! But he never suspected it. He lived his simple, happy child-life, frolicking 3) 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 hé noticed that, as they lifted their hats, their faces often brightened very much, but he thought it was all because bis grandfather was with him.
"They are so fond of you," he once said, looking up at his lordship with a bright smile.
') squalid = extremely dirty.
*) a good turn = a service.
*) frolicking = playing and dancing merrily.
127



"Do you see how glad they are when they see you ? I hope they wül some day be as fond of me."
When the cottages were being buüt, the lad and his grandfather used to ride over to Earl's Court together to look at them, and Fauntleroy would dismount from his pony and go and make acquaintance with the workmen, asking them questions about building and bricklaying and telling them things about America. After two or three such conversations, he was able to enüghten the Earl on the subject of brickmaking, as they rode home.
"I always üke to know about things üke those," he said, "because you never know what you are coming to."
When he left them, the workmen used to talk him over among themselves, and laugh at his odd, innocent speeches ; but they liked Mm, and liked to see him stand among them, talking away, with his hands in his pockets, bis hat pushed back on his curls, and his smaü face fuü of eagerness. And they would go home and teü their wives about him, and the women would teü each other, and so it came about that almost every one knew some story of little Lord Fauntleroy ; and graduaüy 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.
He never spoke to any one else of his feeling for Cedric; when he spoke of hun to others it
128



was always with the same grim smüe. But Fauntleroy soon knew that his grandfather loved him and always liked hun to be near.
„~ , 0°ly one thing more he wants.
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 friends than we are do you ?" '
"We are pretty good companions, I should say, repüed his lordship. "Come here."
Fauntleroy scrambled up and went to him.
"Is there anything you want," the Earl asked • "anything you have not ?"
The üttle feüow's brown eyes fixed themselves on his grandfather with a rather wistful look.
"Only one thing," he answered.
"What is that ?" inquired the Earl.
Fauntleroy was süent a second. He had not thought matters over to himself so long for nothing.
"What is it ?" my lord repeated.
Fauntleroy answered.
'Tt is Dearest," he said.
The old Earl winced i) a üttle.
"But you see her almost every day," he said. "Is not that enough ?"
"I used to see her all the time," said Fauntleroy. "She used to kiss me when I went to
') winced = looked painful, uneasy.
9- Up-to-Date Series A III.
129



sleep at night, and in the morning she was always there, and we could teil each other things without waiting."
The old eyes and the young ones looked into each other through a moment of silence. Then the Earl knitted his brows.
"Do you never forget about your mother ?" he said.
"No," answered Fauntleroy, "never; and she never forgets about me. I shouldn't forget about you, you know, if I didn't live with you. I should think about you all the more."
"Upon my word," said the Earl, after looking at him a moment longer, 'T 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 J) that he almost forgot, for the time, he had ever hated his son's wife at all. And in a strange and startling way it happened. Ceddie at bis first dinner-party.
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. And Cedric was among the guests the whole evening.
"The lad has good manners," said the Earl.
1) to face = to bear.
130



''He will be in no orie's way. Chüdren are usually ïdiots or bores i), —mine were both,—but he can actually answer when he's spoken to, and be silent when he is not."
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 asked him questions, and the men asked hun 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 dehghtful. 8
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 m the end he proudly produced from his pocket Dick's parting 2) gift,—the red sük handkerchief.
"I 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.
*) borts = tiring beings.
*) parting gift = gift at parting.
131



"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. A slight smile crossed more than one face when several times he wént and stood near his grandfather's chair, so near that his cheek touched the Earl's shoulder, and his lordship, detecting the general smile, smiled a little himself. He knew what the lookers-on were thinking, and he feit some secret amusement in their seeing what a good friend he was to this youngster, who might have been expected to share the popular opinion of him. Mr. Havisham is the bearer of painful news.
Mr. Havisham had been expected to arrivé in the afternoon, but, strange to say, he was late. He was so late that the guests were on the point of rising to go in to dinner when he arrived. When he approached bis host, the Earl regarded him with amazement. He looked as if he had been hurried or agitated; his dry keen old face was actually pale.
"I was detained," he said in a low voice to the Earl, "by—an extraordinary event."
It was as unlike ï) the methodic old lawyer to be agitated by anything as it was to be late, but it was evident that he had been disturbed. At dinner he ate scarcely anyting, and two or three times, when he was spoken to, he started as if
i) it was as unlike = it was as unusual a thing with.
132



his thoughts were fax away. At dessert, when Fauntleroy came in, he looked at him more than once, nervously and uneasily.
The fact was he forgot everything but the strange and painful news he must teil 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!
No sooner had the last guest left than Mr. Havisham went to find the Earl.
"Well, Havisham," said his harsh voice, "what is it ? It is evident something has happened. What was the extraordinary event, if I may ask ?"
'Tt was bad news," Mr. Havisham answered, "distressing news, my lord—the worst of news. I am sorry to be the bearer of it."
They were standing near a sofa, on which Cedric lay curled up, sleeping peacefully. The Earl saw that the lawyer looked uneasily at the boy.
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 ül-tempered.
"Why do you look so at the boy!" he exclaimed irritably. "You have been looking at him all the evening. What has your news to do with Lord Fauntleroy ?"
A new Lord Fauntleroy and his mother.
"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
133



is not Lord Fauntleroy who Hes sleeping before us, but only the son of Captain Errol. And the present Lord Fauntleroy is the son of your son Bevis, and is at this moment in a lodging-house in London."
The Earl clutched the arms of his chair with both bis hands until the veins stood out upon them ; his fierce old face was almost livid.
"What do you mean !" he cried out. "You are mad ! Whose lie is this ?"
"If it is a lie," answered Mr. Havisham, "it is painfully üke the truth. A woman came to my chambers this morning. She said your son Bevis married her six years ago in London. She showed me her marriage certificate They quarreüed 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 fuüy understand what her son could claim. She consulted a lawyer, and found out that the boy was reaüy Lord Fauntleroy and the heir to the earldom of Dorincourt; and she, of course, insists on his claims being acknowledged."
The handsome, grim old face was ghastly. A bitter smüe fixed itself upon it.
"I should refuse to beüeve a word of it," he said, "if it were not such a scoundreUy piece of business that it becomes quite possible in connection with the name of my son Bevis. He
1) marriage certificate=a written legal declaration of a marriage.
134



was always a disgrace to us. The woman is an ignorant, vulgar person, you say ?"
"I am obliged to admit that she can scarely spell her own name," answered the lawyer. "She is absolutely uneducated and openly mercenary. She cares for nothing but the money."
The veins on the old Earl's forehead stood out like purple cords. 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; and yet Mr. Havisham noticed that at the very worst of his wrath he never seemed to forget the little sleeping figure, and that he never once spoke loud enough to awaken 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 him. I always detested children—my own more than the rest. I am fond of this one ; he is fond of me. I am not popular ; I never was. But he is fond of me. He never was afraid of me—he always trusted me.
135



He would have filled my place better than I have filled it. I know that. He would have been an honour to the name."
He bent down and stood a minute or so looking at the happy, sleeping face. 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."
General excitement; Cedric alone happy.
A very few days after the dinner-party at the Castle, almost everybody in England knew the romantic story of what had happened at Dorincourt. And then there came the rumour that the Earl 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 Erlesboro was situated.
But in the midst of all the disturbance there was one person who was quite calm and untroubled. That person was the üttle Lord Fauntleroy who was said not to be Lord Fauntleroy at all.
When the Earl told him what had happened, he listened attentively ; and by the time the story was finished, he looked a üttle anxious.
'Tt makes me feel very queer," he said; "it makes me—queer!"
136



The Earl looked at the boy in silence. It made him feel queer too—queerer than he had ever feit in his whole life.
"Will they take Dearest's house away from her—and her carriage ?" Cedric asked in a rather unsteady, anxious voice.
"No!" said the Earl decidedly—in quite aloud voice in fact. "They can take nothing from her."
"Ah !" said Cedric with evident reliëf. "Can't they ?"
Then he looked up at his grandfather, and his eyes looked very big and soft.
"That other boy," he said rather tremulously —"he will have to—to be your boy now—as I was—won't he ?"
"No/" answered the Earl—and he said it so fiercely and loud that Cedric quite jumped.
"No ?" he exclaimed, in wonderment. "Won't he ? I thought "
He stood up from his stool quite suddenly.
"Shall I be your boy, even if Tm not going to be an earl ?" he said. And his fmshed üttle face was aü aüght with eagerness.
"My boy I" the Earl said—and, if you'U beüeve it, his voice was almost shaky and a üttle broken and hoarse; "yes, you'U 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 reüef and pleasure. He put both his hands deep into his pockets and
137



looked squarely into his noble relative's eyes.
"Do you ?" he said. "Well, then, I don't care whether I'm an earl or not. I thought—you see, I thought the one that was going to be the Earl would have to be your boy too, and—and I couldn't be. That was what made me feel so queer."
The Earl put his hand on his shoulder and drew him hearer.
"They shall take nothing from you that I can hold for you," he said, drawing his breath hard. "I won't believe yet that they can take anything from you. 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.
Within a few days after she had seen Mr. Havisham, the woman who claimed to be Lady Fauntleroy presented herself at the Castle, and brought her child with her. She was sent away. The Earl would not see her, she was told by the footman at the door; his lawyer would attend to her case.
The woman drove away ; the look on her handsome common face half frightened, half fierce. Mr. Havisham had noticed, during his interviews with her, that though she had a coarse insolent manner, she was neither so clever nor so bold as she meant to be; she seemed sometimes to
138



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.
The Earl would not receive her, but he went with Mr. Havisham to the inn, where she was staying. When she saw him enter, she turned white, though she flew into a rage l) at once. The Earl stared at her contemptuously, and then 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 2), 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 either of you or the child so long as I live. The place will infortunately 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. .
The Earl calls on Mn* Errol.
Not many days after that, a visitor was announced to Mrs. Errol, who was writing in her little morning-room.
When Mrs. Errol entered the drawing-room, a very tall, maj estic-looking old man was standing on the tiger-skin rug. He had a handsome, old face, a long white moustache, and an obstinate look.
"Mrs. Errol, I believe ?" he said.
i) flew into a rage — became enraged.
*) too much for us = too strong for us to deny.
139



"Mrs. Errol," she answered. "I am the Earl of Dorincourt," he said. He paused a moment to look into her upUfted eyes. They were so like the big, childish eyes he had seen uplifted to his own so often every day during the last few months.
"The boy is very like you," he said abruptly.
"It has often been said so, my lord," she replied, "but I have been glad to think him like his father also."
"Yes" said the Earl," "he is like—my son— too." He put his hand up to his big white moustache and pulled it fiercely. "Do you know," he said, "why I have come here ?"
"I have seen Mr. Havisham," Mrs. Errol began, "and he has told me of the claims which have been made "
"I have come to teil you," said the Earl, "that they will be investigated and contested. I have come to teil you that the boy shall be defended with all the power of the law. His rights "
The soft voice interrupted him.
"He must have nothing that is not his by right, even if the law can give it to him," she said!
"Unfortunately the law cannot," said the Earl. "If it could, it should. This outrageous woman and her child "
"Perhaps she cares for him as much as I care for Cedric, my lord," said üttle Mrs. Errol. "And if she was your eldest son's wife, her son is Lord Fauntleroy, and mme is not."
140



She was no more afraid of hirn 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 pleased by it. People so seldom dared to differ from him that there was an entertaining novelty in it.
"I suppose," he said, scowling i) slightly, "that you would much prefer that he should not be the Earl of Dorincourt ?"
Her fair young face flushed.
'Tt is a very magnificent thing to be the Earl of Dorincourt, my lord," she said. "I know that, but I care most that he should be what his father was—brave and just and true always."
"In striking contrast to what his grandfather was, eh ?" said his lordship.
"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
1) scowling = looking angry.
141



room, pulling his great moustache more violently than ever.
"Yes, he is fond of me," he said, "and I am fond of him. I can't say I ever was fond of anything before. I am fond of him. He pleased me from the first. I am an old man, and was tired of my life. He has given me something to live for. I am proud of him. I was satisfied to think of his taking his place some day as the head of the family."
He came back and stood before Mrs. Errol.
"I am miserable," he said. "Miserable!"
He looked as if he was. Even his pride could not keep his voice steady or his hands from shaking. For a moment it almost seemed as if his deep, fierce eyes had tears in them. "Perhaps it is because I am miserable that I have come to you," he said, quite glaring down at her. I used to hate you; I have been jealous of you. This wretched, disgraceful business has changed that. After seeing that repulsive woman who calls herself the wife of my son Bevis, I actually feit it would be a reliëf to look at you. I have been an obstinate old fooi, and I suppose I have treated you badly. You are like the boy, and the boy is the first object in my üfe. I am miserable, and I came to you merely because you are like the boy, and he cares for you, and I care for him. Treat me as well as you can, for the boy's sake.
He said it all in his harsh voice, and almost roughly, but somehow he seemed so broken
142



down for the time that Mrs. Erroll was touched to the heart. She got up and moved an armchair a httle forward.
"I wish you would sit down," she said in a soft, sympathetic way. "You have been so much troubled that you are very tired, and you need all your strength."
It was just as new to him to be spoken to and cared for in that gentle, simple way as it was to be contradicted, and he actually did as she asked him. Very soon he began to feel less gloomy, and then he spoke again.
"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. The fatal news reaches America.
Meanwhile Mr. Hobbs and Dick had become great friends. Almost every night they sat and smoked together at the grocery-store, talking about their their little friend, and reading to each other the letters they had received from Cedric. On one of these occasions Dick told Mr. Hobbs how, for many years, he had been living happily with his elder brother Ben ; but this brother at last married a girl, named Minna,
143



who first made both their lives unbearable, and then disappeared with her baby-boy.
When the fatal news about the little Lord reaches them, they immediately write to Ceddie, each offering him a partnership in his business.
Dick finds he has swell-acquaintances.
The very next morning, one of Dick's customers was rather surprised. He was a young lawyer beginning practice; as poor as a very young lawyer can possibly be, but a bright, ehergetic yóung fellow. He had a shabby J) office near Dick's stand, and every morning Dick blacked bis boots for him, and he always had a friendly word or a joke for Dick.
That particular morning, when he put bis foot on the rest 2), he had an ülustrated paper in his hand. He had just finished looking it over, and when the last boot was polished, he handed it to the boy.
"Here's a paper for you, Dick," he said ; "you can look it over during your breakfast. Picture of an English castle in it, and an English earl's daughter-in-law, who seems to be raising 3) rather a row. You ought to become famüiar with the nobility and gentry, Dick. Begin on the Right Honourable the Earl of Dorincourt and Lady Fauntleroy. Hello ! I say, what's the matter ?"
The pictures he spoke of were on the front
1) shabby — poor.
j) the rest =. the little bench on which people put their foot, whèn their shoes are being blacked.
s) raising a row = causing a disturbance.
144



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 the matter, Dick ?" said the young man. "What has paralysed you ?"
Dick really did look as if something tremendous had happened. He pointed to the picture, under which was written :
"Mother of Claimant i) (Lady Fauntleroy)." It was the picture of a handsome woman, with large eyes and heavy braids of black hair wound around her head.
"Her !" said Dick. "My 2), I knOW her better than I know you!" The young man began to laugh.
"Where did you meet her, Dick ?" he said. "At Newport ? 3) 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 and end to his business for the present.
"Never mind," he said. "I know her! An' I've struck work for the present."
And in less then five minutes from that time he was tearing 4) through the streets on his way to Mr. Hobbs. Mr. Hobbs could scarcely believe Jus senses when he saw Dick rush in with the paper in his hand. The boy was so much out
») Claimant = the person who claims anything.
\ ^y ~ my eye' an e*c!arflation of surprise,
s) Newport = a fashionable seaside-place near New-York
4) teartng = rushing, running very fast.
10. Up-to-Date Series A III.
145



of breath with running that he could scarcely speak as he threw the paper down on the counter.
"Hello \" exclaimed Mr. Hobbs. "Hello ! What have you got there ?"
"Look at it!" panted Dick. "Look at that woman in the picture! She's no lord's wife. You may eat me, if it ain't Minna—Minna ! I'd know her anywhere, an' so would Ben."
Mr. Hobbs dropped into his seat.
"I knew it was a put-up job," *) he said. *T knew it; and they did it on account 2) o' him bein' a' Merican!"
Mr. Hobbs was almost overwhelmed by his sence of responsibility, and Dick was 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.
Dick and Mr. Hobbs consult a lawyer.
"Say," he said, "the fellow that gave me the paper, he's a lawyer. Let's ask him what we'd better do. Lawyers know all."
This idea pleased Mr. Hobbs immensely, and they at once went and told Mr. Harrison their story.
„And," said Mr. Hobbs, "say what your time's worth an hour and look into this thing thoroughly and I'U pay the damage 3)."
1) a put-up job — an af fair, arranged beforehand.
2) on account of etc. = because he is an American.
3) damage = the expenses.
I46



"Well," said Mr. Harrison, "it will be a big tbing if it turns out all right, and it will be almost as big a thing for me as for Lord Fauntleroy ;" and before the sun went down, two letters had been written—one speeding out of New-York harbour on a mail steamer on its way to England, and the other on a train bound i) for California! And the first was addressed to T. Havisham! Esq. 2) 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.
P'? and Ben» and Mr. Hobbs to the rescue.
It had taken only a few minutes, apparently to change the üttle boy, dangüng his red legs from the high stool in Mr. Hobbs' store, into an Engüsh nobleman. It had taken only a few minutes, apparently, to change him from.an Engüsh nobleman into a pennüess üttle impostor, with no right to any of the splendours he had been enjoying. And, surprising as it may appear, it did not take long to give back to him aü that he had been in danger of losing.
The woman who had caüed herself Lady Fauntleroy, when she had been closely pressed by Mr. Havisham's questions about her marriage and her boy, had made one or two blunders
i) bound for = going to. »JL j£s?' = E;scl.ui,re. which properly means a sbield-bearer, or attendant on a kmght; hence, in modern times, a title of dienitv next m degree betow a knight; nowadays, in the addresses of letters, Hsq. may be put to almost any person's name
x47



which had caused suspicion. All the mistakes she made were about her child. There seemed no doubt that she had been married to Bevis, and had quarrelled with him and had been paid to keep away from him ; but Mr. Havisham found out that her story of the boy's being born in a certain part of London was false; and just when they all were in the midst of the commotion caused by this discovery, there came the letter from the young lawyer in New-York, and Mr. Hobbs' letter 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 !
One fine morning, as the supposed Lady Fauntleroy, sat in her room at the inn called "The Dorincourt Arms," Mr. Havisham was announced; and when he entered, he was followed by no less than three persons—one was a sharpfaced 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 newcomers as being thousands of miles away. 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.
148



"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 hun, as indeed it was. Then the woman, seeing herself so baffled i) and exposed, lost all control over herself and flew into such a rage as Ben and Dick had often seen her in before.
"I can swear to her in any court," Ben said to Mr. Havisham, "and I can bring a dozen others who will. Her father is a respectable sort of man. He'11 teil you who she is, and whether she married me or not." Then he suddenly turned on her.
"Where's the child ?" he demanded. "He's going with me!"
And just as he finished saying the words, the door leading into the bedroom opened a little, and the boy looked in. Ben walked up to liim and took his hand, and his own was trembling.
"Yes," he said, "I could swear to him too ; Tom," he said to 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. Ben took up the hat and marched to the door.
1) seeing herself so baffled = seeing that her plans were Jrustrated ; had no more chance of success.
149



"If you want me again," he said to Mr. Havisham, "you know where to find me."
He walked out of the room, holding the child's hand and not looking at the woman once. She was raving with fury, and the Earl was cahnly gazing at her through his eyeglasses, which he had quietly placed upon his aristocratie eagle-nose.
"Come, come, my young woman," said Mr. Havisham. "This won't do at all. If you don't want to be locked up, you really must behave J) yourself."
And there was something so very businesslike 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.
At last Dearest comes to the castle.
When the Earl left the room after the interview, he went at once to his carriage.
"To Court Lodge," he said to Thomas.
When the carriage stopped at Court Lodge, Cedric was in the drawing-room with his mother.
The Earl came in without being announced.
1) behave yourself — conduct yourself properly.
150



He looked an inch or so talier, and a great many years younger. His deep eyes flashed.
"Where," he said, "is Lord Fauntleroy?"
Mrs. Errol came forward, a flush rising to her cheek.
"Is it Lord Fauntleroy ?" she asked. "Is it, indeed ?"
The Earl put out his hand and grasped hers. "Yes," he answered, "it is." Then he put his other hand on Cedric's shoulder.
"Fauntleroy," he said in an authoritative way, "ask your mother when she wül come to us at the Castle."
Fauntleroy flung his arms around his mother's neck.
"To üve with us!" he cried. "To üve 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 making friends with his heir's mother.
"Are you quite sure you want me ?" said Mrs. Errol, with her soft smüe.
"Quite sure," he said bluntly. "We have always wanted you, but we were not exactly aware of it. We hope you wül come."
Ben and his boy; Dick and Mr. Hobbs.
Ben took his boy and went back to Caüfornia, and he returned under very comfortable circumstances. Just before his going, Mr. Havisham
t5i



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 to buy a cattle-ranch i) of his own, and put Ben in charge of it on very liberal terms, which, at the same time, would lay a foundation for his son's future. 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 did not return for some time. It had been decided that the Earl would provide for Dick, and would see that he received a solid education ; and Mr. Hobbs had decided that as he himself had left a reliable substitute in charge of his store, he could afford to wait to see the festivities which were to celebrate Lord Fauntleroy's eighth birthday. All the tenantry were invited, and there were to be feasting and dancing and games in the park, and bonfires 2) and fireworks in the evening.
"Just like the Fourth of July !" said Lord Fauntleroy. "It seems a pity my birthday wasn't on the Fourth, doesn't it ? For then we could keep them both together."
Mr. Hobbs and aristocracy.
It must be confessed that at first the Earl and
1) cattle-ranch = a large farm in America for rearing cattle a) bonfires = large fire&in the open air, in commemoration or m nonour of some event.
152



Mr. Hobbs were not as intimate as might have been hoped. The fact was that the Earl had known very few grocery-men and Mr. Hobbs had not had many very close acquaintances who were earls; and so in their rare interviews conversation did not flourish. It must also be owned that Mr. Hobbs had been rather overwhelmed by the splendours Fauntleroy showed him.
The entrance-gate and the stone lions and the avenue impressed Mr. Hobbs somewhat at the beginning, and when he saw the Castle, the flower-gardens, the dungeon, etc, etc, he was really quite bewildered. But it was the picture gallery which seemed to be the finishing stroke.
"Sometbin' in the marmer of a museum ?" he said to Fauntleroy, when he was led into the great beautiful room.
"N—no— " said Fauntleroy, rather doubtfully, "I don't think it's a museum. My grandfather says these are my ancestors."
"Your aunt's sisters!" ejaculated Mr. Hobbs. "All of 'em ? Your great-uncle must have had a family! Did he raise J) 'em all ?"
And he sank into a seat and looked around him with an agitated countenance, until with the greatest difficulty Lord Fauntleroy managed to explain things.
"And they were all earls !" he would say. "An' he's goin' to be one of 'em, an' own it all! I wouldn't have minded bein' one of 'em myself !"
1) did he raise them all = was be father ef them all ?
153



he said—which was really a great concession. Ceddie's eighth birthday, and his first speech.
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 people dressed in their gayest and best, and with the flags flying from the tents and the top of the Castle! Nobody had stayed away who could possibly come, because everybody was really glad that little Lord Fauntleroy was to be little Lord Fauntleroy still and some day was to be the master of everything. Every one wanted to have a look at him, and at his kind mother, who had made so many friends. And every one üked the Earl rather better, because the little boy loved and trusted him so. And the sun shohe and the flags fluttered and the games were played and the dances danced, and as the gaieties went on and the joyous afternoon passed, his little lordship was radiantly happy. The whole world seemed beautiful to Mm.
There was some one else who was happy too. —an old man, who, though he had been rich and noble all bis life, had not often been very happy. I think it was because he was rather better than he had been that he was rather happier. He had not suddenly become as good as Fauntleroy thought him : but, at least, he had begun to love something, and he had several times found a sort of pleasure in doing the kind things which the innocent, kind little heart of
154



a ^hild had suggested, —and that was a beginning. And every day he had been more pleased with his son's wife. It was true, as the people said, that he was beginning to üke her too. He liked to hear her voice and to see her face ; and as he sat in his armchair, 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 üttle feüow who had üved in a New-York side street and known grocery-men and made friends with bootblacks, was still so weübred and manly a üttle feüow that he made no one ashamed of him, even when fortune changed him into the heir to an Engüsh earldom, living in an Engüsh castle.
He knew nothing of earls and castles ; he was quite ignorant of all grand and splendid things ; but he was always loveable because he was simple and loving. To be so is üke being born a king.
The old Earl 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 i) of the day.
They were drinking toasts; and, after they had drank 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 as to whether his lordship
1) collation = light meal.
155



was popular or not, it would have been settled that instant. Such a clamour of voices and such a rattle of glasses !
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. "I'm so glad !"
And then the Earl put his hand on the child's shoulder and said to him :
"Fauntleroy, say to them that you thank them for their londness."
Fauntleroy gave a glance up at him and then at his mother.
"Must I ?" he asked just a trifle shyly, and she smiled, and she nodded. And so he made a step forward, and everybody looked at him, and he spoke as loudly as he could, bis childish voice ringing out quite clear and strong.
"I'm ever so much obliged to you !" he said, "and—I hope you'U enjoy my birthday—because I've enjoyed it so much—and—I'm very glad I'm going to be an earl—I didn't think at first I should like it, but now I do—and I love this place so, and I think it is beautiful—and—and —and when I am an earl, I am going to try to be as good as my grandfather."
And amid the shouts and clamour of applause, he stepped back with a üttle sigh of reliëf, and put his hand into the Earl's and stood close to hun, srniling and leaning against his side.
156



Mr. Hobbs too aristocratie for America.
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 aristocratie than his lordship himself, and he read the Court news every morning, and followed all the doings of the House of Lords! And about ten years after, when Dick, who had finished his education and was going to visit his brother in California, asked the good grocer if he did not wish to return to America, he shook his head seriously.
"Not to live there," he said. "Not to live there ; I want to be near him, an' look after him. America's a good enough country for them that's young an' stirrin' ï) —but there's faults in it. There's not an auntsister 2) among 'em—nor an earl!"
1) stirring = active.
2) auntsister = ancester ; comp. page 156.
THE END.
157



List of frequently occurring irregular verbs.
to awake to bear
to beat to become to begin to beh old to bend to blow
to break to bring to build
to burn
to burst to buy to catch to choose to cling
to clothe
to come to creep to cut to do to draw to drink to drive to eat to fall to feel to fight to find to flee
_ ƒ awoke " \awaked bore,
- beat
- became
- began
- beheld bent blew
broke brought
- built ƒ burnt \ burned
burst
bought
caught
chose
clung. ƒ clothed \clad
came
crept
cut
did
drew
drank
drove
ate
feil
feit
fought
found
fled
_ ƒ awaked, \ awoke, borne, born
- beaten.
- become,
- begun,
- beheld
- bent,
- blown,
- broken,
- brought,
- built, ƒ burnt,
" \ burned, burst, bought,
- caught,
- chosen, clung,
ƒ clothed, "\clad,
- come, • crept,
cut,
done,
drawn,
drunk,
driven,
eaten,
f allen,
feit,
fought,
found,
fled.
> ontwaken, wekken.
dragen.
geboren.
slaan.
worden.
beginnen.
aanschouwen.
buigen.
waaien, blazen,
bloeien.
breken.
brengen.
bouwen.
branden.
barsten, hoop en. vangen, kiezen.
zich vastklemmen.
kleeden.
komen.
kruipen.
snijden.
doen.
trekken.
drinken.
rijden, drijven.
eten.
vallen.
voelen.
vechten.
vinden.
vlieden, vluchten.
158



to fling — flung — flung, werpen, slingeren.
to fly — flew. — flown, vliegen.
to forget — forgot — forgotten, vergeten.
to forgive — forgave — forgiven, vergeven.
to get -— got — got, krijgen.
to give — gave — given, geven.
to go — went — gone, gaan.
to grow — grew — grown, groeien.
to hang — hung — hung, hangen.
to hear — heard — heard, hoor en.
to hide — hid — hid(den), verbergen.
to hit — hit — hit, treffen.
to hold — held — held, houden.
to hurt — hurt — hurt, bezeeren.
to keep — kept — kept, houden, bewaren.
tokneel —{Meeled ~ {kneeled, knieUn-
to know — knew — known, weten, kennen.
to lay — laid — laid, leggen.
to lead — led — led, leiden.
tolean — |J^n^ — Ijganed, Uunen-
toleap — {£[£1 —(leaped, gingen.
. _ 1 flearned f learned, ,
tolearn -(learnt -{learnt, leeren-
to leave — left — left, verlaten, laten.
to lend — lent — lent, leenen.
to let — let — let, laten.
to he — lay — lain, liggen.
tokght — {}|fhted- -{5fted' aansteken.
to lose — lost — lost, verliezen.
to make — made — made, maken.
to mean — meant — meant, meenen, beteekenen
to meet — met — met, ontmoeten.
to pay — paid — paid, betalen.
to put — put — put, plaatsen, zetten.
to read — read — read, lezen.
to ride — rode — ridden, rijden (te paard).
to ring — rang — rung, luiden, schellen.
to rise — rose — risen, opstaan, opgaan.
to run — ran — run, hard hopen.
to say — said(ai=e)— said(ai=e), zeggen.
to see — saw — seen, zien.
to seek — sought — sought, zoeken.
to se 11 — sold — sold, verkoopen.
159



to send — sent — sent, zenden.
to set — set — set, zetten.
to shake — shook — shaken, schudden, beven.
to shine. — shone — shone, schijnen.
to shoot — shot — shot, schieten.
to show — showed — shown, toonen, laten zien
to shut — shut — shut, sluiten.
to sing — sang — sung, zingen.
to sit — sat — sat, zitten.
to slay — slew — slain, dooden.
to sleep — slept — slept, slapen.
to speak — spoke — spoken, spreken.
to speed — sped — sped, zich spoeden.
to spend — spent — spent, uitgeven, verteren.
to spread — spread — spread, verspreiden.
to spring. — sprang — sprung, springen.
to stand — stood — stood, staan.
to steal — stole — stolen, stelen, sluipen.
to stick — stuck — stuck (Wijven steken.
' \ steken, kleven.
to swear — swore — sworn, zweren, vloeken.
to take — took — taken, nemen.
to teach — taught — taught, onderwijzen.
to tear — tore — torn, scheuren.
i to teil — told — told, vertellen.
to think — thought — thought, denken.
to throw — threw — thrown, werpen.
to thrust — thrust — thrust, stooten.
totread - trod -{£gden betreden.
to understand— understood— understood, verstaan.
to wake — woke — waked, wekken, ontwaken.
to wear, — wore worn (dragen (aan 't
' \ lichaam).
to weep — wept — wept, weenen.
to win — won — won, winnen.
to wring — wrung — wrang, wringen.
to write — wrote — written, schrijven.
160






itgaven van L. C. G. M ALM BERG,
Nijmegen— 's-Hertogenbosch—Antwerpen.
In de UP-TO-DATE SERIES, Engelsche leesboeken voor school en huis, bewerkt door A. Hulsman, zijn thans verschenen:
Serie A. I. Stories of Robin Hood and William Teil
Tweede druk -.WÊÊ^S^^^^^^^^m f '-00 Serie A. III. Little Lord Fauntleroy by Mrs. H. Burnett
Vijfde druk . . "^^W^^^^^^^Ê^k 1.30 Serie A. IV. Misunderstood by Florence Montgomery „ 1.20 Serie B. I. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome
Derde druk. . f§§?. . . -g£ *~1S%i2ÊÓ „ 1.00 Serie B. II. Helen's Babies by J. Habberton. Tweede
druk ^^^0%'- ^WÊÊÊ^ 1.20 Serie B. III. The Human Boy by Eden Phillpotts 1.50 Serie C I. Paul and Florence Dombey by Ch. Dickens
Tweede druk . i^^^^k^^^^mm- „ 1.80 Serie C H. The Prisoner of Zenda by A. Hope
Tweede druk . "s|Pïè^^^^% . . „ 1.20 Serie C. III. Sketches by Jerome K. Jerome >^ Z%. . n 1.80 Serie C. IV. Sketches by W. W. Jacobs ^.fV-M.^^ „ 1.50 Serie D. I. Irish Character by Canon Sheehan. Tweede
druk „ 1.20
Serie D. II. At Sunwich Port by W. W. Jacobs WM | 1.80 Serie D. III. Sketches by Bret Harte. . . .è^JIjp » 1-20 Serie D. IV. Selections from Mark Twain . ;|»,"^■... .. „1.80
Uitvoerige fondscatalogus op aanvraag gratis verkrijgbaar