II
There was never a more amazed little boy than Cedric during the
week that followed; there was never so strange or so unreal a
week. In the first place, the story his mamma told him was a
very curious one. He was obliged to hear it two or three times
before he could understand it. He could not imagine what Mr.
Hobbs would think of it. It began with earls: his grandpapa,
whom he had never seen, was an earl; and his eldest uncle, if he
had not been killed by a fall from his horse, would have been an
earl, too, in time; and after his death, his other uncle would
have been an earl, if he had not died suddenly, in Rome, of a
fever. After that, his own papa, if he had lived, would have
been an earl, but, since they all had died and only Cedric was
left, it appeared that HE was to be an earl after his grandpapa's
death--and for the present he was Lord Fauntleroy.
He turned quite pale when he was first told of it.
"Oh! Dearest!" he said, "I should rather not be an earl.
None of the boys are earls. Can't I NOT be one?"
But it seemed to be unavoidable. And when, that evening, they
sat together by the open window looking out into the shabby
street, he and his mother had a long talk about it. Cedric sat
on his footstool, clasping one knee in his favorite attitude and
wearing a bewildered little face rather red from the exertion of
thinking. His grandfather had sent for him to come to England,
and his mamma thought he must go.
"Because," she said, looking out of the window with sorrowful
eyes, "I know your papa would wish it to be so, Ceddie. He
loved his home very much; and there are many things to be thought
of that a little boy can't quite understand. I should be a
selfish little mother if I did not send you. When you are a man,
you will see why."
Ceddie shook his head mournfully.
"I shall be very sorry to leave Mr. Hobbs," he said. "I'm
afraid he'll miss me, and I shall miss him. And I shall miss
them all."
When Mr. Havisham--who was the family lawyer of the Earl of
Dorincourt, and who had been sent by him to bring Lord Fauntleroy
to England--came the next day, Cedric heard many things. But,
somehow, it did not console him to hear that he was to be a very
rich man when he grew up, and that he would have castles here and
castles there, and great parks and deep mines and grand estates
and tenantry. He was troubled about his friend, Mr. Hobbs, and
he went to see him at the store soon after breakfast, in great
anxiety of mind.
He found him reading the morning paper, and he approached him
with a grave demeanor. He really felt it would be a great shock
to Mr. Hobbs to hear what had befallen him, and on his way to the
store he had been thinking how it would be best to break the
news.
"Hello!" said Mr. Hobbs. "Mornin'!"
"Good-morning," said Cedric.
He did not climb up on the high stool as usual, but sat down on a
cracker-box and clasped his knee, and was so silent for a few
moments that Mr. Hobbs finally looked up inquiringly over the top
of his newspaper.
"Hello!" he said again.
Cedric gathered all his strength of mind together.
"Mr. Hobbs," he said, "do you remember what we were talking
about yesterday morning?"
"Well," replied Mr. Hobbs,--"seems to me it was England."
"Yes," said Cedric; "but just when Mary came for me, you
know?"
Mr. Hobbs rubbed the back of his head.
"We WAS mentioning Queen Victoria and the aristocracy."
"Yes," said Cedric, rather hesitatingly, "and--and earls;
don't you know?"
"Why, yes," returned Mr. Hobbs; "we DID touch 'em up a little;
that's so!"
Cedric flushed up to the curly bang on his forehead. Nothing so
embarrassing as this had ever happened to him in his life. He
was a little afraid that it might be a trifle embarrassing to Mr.
Hobbs, too.
"You said," he proceeded, "that you wouldn't have them sitting
'round on your cracker-barrels."
"So I did!" returned Mr. Hobbs, stoutly. "And I meant it.
Let 'em try it--that's all!"
"Mr. Hobbs," said Cedric, "one is sitting on this box now!"
Mr. Hobbs almost jumped out of his chair.
"What!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," Cedric announced, with due modesty; "_I_ am one--or I
am going to be. I won't deceive you."
Mr. Hobbs looked agitated. He rose up suddenly and went to look
at the thermometer.
"The mercury's got into your head!" he exclaimed, turning back
to examine his young friend's countenance. "It IS a hot day!
How do you feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel that
way?"
He put his big hand on the little boy's hair. This was more
embarrassing than ever.
"Thank you," said Ceddie; "I'm all right. There is nothing
the matter with my head. I'm sorry to say it's true, Mr. Hobbs.
That was what Mary came to take me home for. Mr. Havisham was
telling my mamma, and he is a lawyer."
Mr. Hobbs sank into his chair and mopped his forehead with his
handkerchief.
"ONE of us has got a sunstroke!" he exclaimed.
"No," returned Cedric, "we haven't. We shall have to make the
best of it, Mr. Hobbs. Mr. Havisham came all the way from
England to tell us about it. My grandpapa sent him."
Mr. Hobbs stared wildly at the innocent, serious little face
before him.
"Who is your grandfather?" he asked.
Cedric put his hand in his pocket and carefully drew out a piece
of paper, on which something was written in his own round,
irregular hand.
"I couldn't easily remember it, so I wrote it down on this," he
said. And he read aloud slowly: "`John Arthur Molyneux Errol,
Earl of Dorincourt.' That is his name, and he lives in a
castle--in two or three castles, I think. And my papa, who died,
was his youngest son; and I shouldn't have been a lord or an earl
if my papa hadn't died; and my papa wouldn't have been an earl if
his two brothers hadn't died. But they all died, and there is no
one but me,--no boy,--and so I have to be one; and my grandpapa
has sent for me to come to England."
Mr. Hobbs seemed to grow hotter and hotter. He mopped his
forehead and his bald spot and breathed hard. He began to see
that something very remarkable had happened; but when he looked
at the little boy sitting on the cracker-box, with the innocent,
anxious expression in his childish eyes, and saw that he was not
changed at all, but was simply as he had been the day before,
just a handsome, cheerful, brave little fellow in a blue suit and
red neck-ribbon, all this information about the nobility
bewildered him. He was all the more bewildered because Cedric
gave it with such ingenuous simplicity, and plainly without
realizing himself how stupendous it was.
"Wha--what did you say your name was?" Mr. Hobbs inquired.
"It's Cedric Errol, Lord Fauntleroy," answered Cedric. "That
was what Mr. Havisham called me. He said when I went into the
room: `And so this is little Lord Fauntleroy!'"
"Well," said Mr. Hobbs, "I'll be--jiggered!"
This was an exclamation he always used when he was very much
astonished or excited. He could think of nothing else to say
just at that puzzling moment.
Cedric felt it to be quite a proper and suitable ejaculation.
His respect and affection for Mr. Hobbs were so great that he
admired and approved of all his remarks. He had not seen enough
of society as yet to make him realize that sometimes Mr. Hobbs
was not quite conventional. He knew, of course, that he was
different from his mamma, but, then, his mamma was a lady, and he
had an idea that ladies were always different from gentlemen.
He looked at Mr. Hobbs wistfully.
"England is a long way off, isn't it?" he asked.
"It's across the Atlantic Ocean," Mr. Hobbs answered.
"That's the worst of it," said Cedric. "Perhaps I shall not
see you again for a long time. I don't like to think of that,
Mr. Hobbs."
"The best of friends must part," said Mr. Hobbs.
"Well," said Cedric, "we have been friends for a great many
years, haven't we?"
"Ever since you was born," Mr. Hobbs answered. "You was about
six weeks old when you was first walked out on this street."
"Ah," remarked Cedric, with a sigh, "I never thought I should
have to be an earl then!"
"You think," said Mr. Hobbs, "there's no getting out of it?"
"I'm afraid not," answered Cedric. "My mamma says that my
papa would wish me to do it. But if I have to be an earl,
there's one thing I can do: I can try to be a good one. I'm not
going to be a tyrant. And if there is ever to be another war
with America, I shall try to stop it."
His conversation with Mr. Hobbs was a long and serious one. Once
having got over the first shock, Mr. Hobbs was not so rancorous
as might have been expected; he endeavored to resign himself to
the situation, and before the interview was at an end he had
asked a great many questions. As Cedric could answer but few of
them, he endeavored to answer them himself, and, being fairly
launched on the subject of earls and marquises and lordly
estates, explained many things in a way which would probably have
astonished Mr. Havisham, could that gentleman have heard it.
But then there were many things which astonished Mr. Havisham.
He had spent all his life in England, and was not accustomed to
American people and American habits. He had been connected
professionally with the family of the Earl of Dorincourt for
nearly forty years, and he knew all about its grand estates and
its great wealth and importance; and, in a cold, business-like
way, he felt an interest in this little boy, who, in the future,
was to be the master and owner of them all,--the future Earl of
Dorincourt. He had known all about the old Earl's disappointment
in his elder sons and all about his fierce rage at Captain
Cedric's American marriage, and he knew how he still hated the
gentle little widow and would not speak of her except with bitter
and cruel words. He insisted that she was only a common American
girl, who had entrapped his son into marrying her because she
knew he was an earl's son. The old lawyer himself had more than
half believed this was all true. He had seen a great many
selfish, mercenary people in his life, and he had not a good
opinion of Americans. When he had been driven into the cheap
street, and his coupe had stopped before the cheap, small house,
he had felt actually shocked. It seemed really quite dreadful to
think that the future owner of Dorincourt Castle and Wyndham
Towers and Chorlworth, and all the other stately splendors,
should have been born and brought up in an insignificant house in
a street with a sort of green-grocery at the corner. He wondered
what kind of a child he would be, and what kind of a mother he
had. He rather shrank from seeing them both. He had a sort of
pride in the noble family whose legal affairs he had conducted so
long, and it would have annoyed him very much to have found
himself obliged to manage a woman who would seem to him a vulgar,
money-loving person, with no respect for her dead husband's
country and the dignity of his name. It was a very old name and
a very splendid one, and Mr. Havisham had a great respect for it
himself, though he was only a cold, keen, business-like old
lawyer.
When Mary handed him into the small parlor, he looked around it
critically. It was plainly furnished, but it had a home-like
look; there were no cheap, common ornaments, and no cheap, gaudy
pictures; the few adornments on the walls were in good taste.
and about the room were many pretty things which a woman's hand
might have made.
"Not at all bad so far," he had said to himself; "but perhaps
the Captain's taste predominated." But when Mrs. Errol came into
the room, he began to think she herself might have had something
to do with it. If he had not been quite a self-contained and
stiff old gentleman, he would probably have started when he saw
her. She looked, in the simple black dress, fitting closely to
her slender figure, more like a young girl than the mother of a
boy of seven. She had a pretty, sorrowful, young face, and a
very tender, innocent look in her large brown eyes,--the
sorrowful look that had never quite left her face since her
husband had died. Cedric was used to seeing it there; the only
times he had ever seen it fade out had been when he was playing
with her or talking to her, and had said some old-fashioned
thing, or used some long word he had picked up out of the
newspapers or in his conversations with Mr. Hobbs. He was fond
of using long words, and he was always pleased when they made her
laugh, though he could not understand why they were laughable;
they were quite serious matters with him. The lawyer's
experience taught him to read people's characters very shrewdly,
and as soon as he saw Cedric's mother he knew that the old Earl
had made a great mistake in thinking her a vulgar, mercenary
woman. Mr. Havisham had never been married, he had never even
been in love, but he divined that this pretty young creature with
the sweet voice and sad eyes had married Captain Errol only
because she loved him with all her affectionate heart, and that
she had never once thought it an advantage that he was an earl's
son. And he saw he should have no trouble with her, and he began
to feel that perhaps little Lord Fauntleroy might not be such a
trial to his noble family, after all. The Captain had been a
handsome fellow, and the young mother was very pretty, and
perhaps the boy might be well enough to look at.
When he first told Mrs. Errol what he had come for, she turned
very pale.
"Oh!" she said; "will he have to be taken away from me? We
love each other so much! He is such a happiness to me! He is
all I have. I have tried to be a good mother to him." And her
sweet young voice trembled, and the tears rushed into her eyes.
"You do not know what he has been to me!" she said.
The lawyer cleared his throat.
"I am obliged to tell you," he said, "that the Earl of
Dorincourt is not--is not very friendly toward you. He is an old
man, and his prejudices are very strong. He has always
especially disliked America and Americans, and was very much
enraged by his son's marriage. I am sorry to be the bearer of so
unpleasant a communication, but he is very fixed in his
determination not to see you. His plan is that Lord Fauntleroy
shall be educated under his own supervision; that he shall live
with him. The Earl is attached to Dorincourt Castle, and spends
a great deal of time there. He is a victim to inflammatory gout,
and is not fond of London. Lord Fauntleroy will, therefore, be
likely to live chiefly at Dorincourt. The Earl offers you as a
home Court Lodge, which is situated pleasantly, and is not very
far from the castle. He also offers you a suitable income. Lord
Fauntleroy will be permitted to visit you; the only stipulation
is, that you shall not visit him or enter the park gates. You
see you will not be really separated from your son, and I assure
you, madam, the terms are not so harsh as--as they might have
been. The advantage of such surroundings and education as Lord
Fauntleroy will have, I am sure you must see, will be very
great."
He felt a little uneasy lest she should begin to cry or make a
scene, as he knew some women would have done. It embarrassed and
annoyed him to see women cry.
But she did not. She went to the window and stood with her face
turned away for a few moments, and he saw she was trying to
steady herself.
"Captain Errol was very fond of Dorincourt," she said at last.
"He loved England, and everything English. It was always a
grief to him that he was parted from his home. He was proud of
his home, and of his name. He would wish--I know he would wish
that his son should know the beautiful old places, and be brought
up in such a way as would be suitable to his future position."
Then she came back to the table and stood looking up at Mr.
Havisham very gently.
"My husband would wish it," she said. "It will be best for my
little boy. I know--I am sure the Earl would not be so unkind as
to try to teach him not to love me; and I know--even if he
tried--that my little boy is too much like his father to be
harmed. He has a warm, faithful nature, and a true heart. He
would love me even if he did not see me; and so long as we may
see each other, I ought not to suffer very much."
"She thinks very little of herself," the lawyer thought. "She
does not make any terms for herself."
"Madam," he said aloud, "I respect your consideration for your
son. He will thank you for it when he is a man. I assure you
Lord Fauntleroy will be most carefully guarded, and every effort
will be used to insure his happiness. The Earl of Dorincourt
will be as anxious for his comfort and well-being as you yourself
could be."
"I hope," said the tender little mother, in a rather broken
voice, "that his grandfather will love Ceddie. The little boy
has a very affectionate nature; and he has always been loved."
Mr. Havisham cleared his throat again. He could not quite
imagine the gouty, fiery-tempered old Earl loving any one very
much; but he knew it would be to his interest to be kind, in his
irritable way, to the child who was to be his heir. He knew,
too, that if Ceddie were at all a credit to his name, his
grandfather would be proud of him.
"Lord Fauntleroy will be comfortable, I am sure," he replied.
"It was with a view to his happiness that the Earl desired that
you should be near enough to him to see him frequently."
He did not think it would be discreet to repeat the exact words
the Earl had used, which were in fact neither polite nor amiable.
Mr. Havisham preferred to express his noble patron's offer in
smoother and more courteous language.
He had another slight shock when Mrs. Errol asked Mary to find
her little boy and bring him to her, and Mary told her where he
was.
"Sure I'll foind him aisy enough, ma'am," she said; "for it's
wid Mr. Hobbs he is this minnit, settin' on his high shtool by
the counther an' talkin' pollytics, most loikely, or enj'yin'
hisself among the soap an' candles an' pertaties, as sinsible an'
shwate as ye plase."
"Mr. Hobbs has known him all his life," Mrs. Errol said to the
lawyer. "He is very kind to Ceddie, and there is a great
friendship between them."
Remembering the glimpse he had caught of the store as he passed
it, and having a recollection of the barrels of potatoes and
apples and the various odds and ends, Mr. Havisham felt his
doubts arise again. In England, gentlemen's sons did not make
friends of grocerymen, and it seemed to him a rather singular
proceeding. It would be very awkward if the child had bad
manners and a disposition to like low company. One of the
bitterest humiliations of the old Earl's life had been that his
two elder sons had been fond of low company. Could it be, he
thought, that this boy shared their bad qualities instead of his
father's good qualities?
He was thinking uneasily about this as he talked to Mrs. Errol
until the child came into the room. When the door opened, he
actually hesitated a moment before looking at Cedric. It would,
perhaps, have seemed very queer to a great many people who knew
him, if they could have known the curious sensations that passed
through Mr. Havisham when he looked down at the boy, who ran into
his mother's arms. He experienced a revulsion of feeling which
was quite exciting. He recognized in an instant that here was
one of the finest and handsomest little fellows he had ever seen.
His beauty was something unusual. He had a strong, lithe,
graceful little body and a manly little face; he held his
childish head up, and carried himself with a brave air; he was so
like his father that it was really startling; he had his father's
golden hair and his mother's brown eyes, but there was nothing
sorrowful or timid in them. They were innocently fearless eyes;
he looked as if he had never feared or doubted anything in his
life.
"He is the best-bred-looking and handsomest little fellow I ever
saw," was what Mr. Havisham thought. What he said aloud was
simply, "And so this is little Lord Fauntleroy."
And, after this, the more he saw of little Lord Fauntleroy, the
more of a surprise he found him. He knew very little about
children, though he had seen plenty of them in England--fine,
handsome, rosy girls and boys, who were strictly taken care of by
their tutors and governesses, and who were sometimes shy, and
sometimes a trifle boisterous, but never very interesting to a
ceremonious, rigid old lawyer. Perhaps his personal interest in
little Lord Fauntleroy's fortunes made him notice Ceddie more
than he had noticed other children; but, however that was, he
certainly found himself noticing him a great deal.
Cedric did not know he was being observed, and he only behaved
himself in his ordinary manner. He shook hands with Mr. Havisham
in his friendly way when they were introduced to each other, and
he answered all his questions with the unhesitating readiness
with which he answered Mr. Hobbs. He was neither shy nor bold,
and when Mr. Havisham was talking to his mother, the lawyer
noticed that he listened to the conversation with as much
interest as if he had been quite grown up.
"He seems to be a very mature little fellow," Mr. Havisham said
to the mother.
"I think he is, in some things," she answered. "He has always
been very quick to learn, and he has lived a great deal with
grownup people. He has a funny little habit of using long words
and expressions he has read in books, or has heard others use,
but he is very fond of childish play. I think he is rather
clever, but he is a very boyish little boy, sometimes."
The next time Mr. Havisham met him, he saw that this last was
quite true. As his coupe turned the corner, he caught sight of a
group of small boys, who were evidently much excited. Two of
them were about to run a race, and one of them was his young
lordship, and he was shouting and making as much noise as the
noisiest of his companions. He stood side by side with another
boy, one little red leg advanced a step.
"One, to make ready!" yelled the starter. "Two, to be steady.
Three--and away!"
Mr. Havisham found himself leaning out of the window of his coupe
with a curious feeling of interest. He really never remembered
having seen anything quite like the way in which his lordship's
lordly little red legs flew up behind his knickerbockers and tore
over the ground as he shot out in the race at the signal word.
He shut his small hands and set his face against the wind; his
bright hair streamed out behind.
"Hooray, Ced Errol!" all the boys shouted, dancing and
shrieking with excitement. "Hooray, Billy Williams! Hooray,
Ceddie! Hooray, Billy! Hooray! 'Ray! 'Ray!"
"I really believe he is going to win," said Mr. Havisham. The
way in which the red legs flew and flashed up and down, the
shrieks of the boys, the wild efforts of Billy Williams, whose
brown legs were not to be despised, as they followed closely in
the rear of the red legs, made him feel some excitement. "I
really--I really can't help hoping he will win!" he said, with
an apologetic sort of cough. At that moment, the wildest yell of
all went up from the dancing, hopping boys. With one last
frantic leap the future Earl of Dorincourt had reached the
lamp-post at the end of the block and touched it, just two
seconds before Billy Williams flung himself at it, panting.
"Three cheers for Ceddie Errol!" yelled the little boys.
"Hooray for Ceddie Errol!"
Mr. Havisham drew his head in at the window of his coupe and
leaned back with a dry smile.
"Bravo, Lord Fauntleroy!" he said.
As his carriage stopped before the door of Mrs. Errol's house,
the victor and the vanquished were coming toward it, attended by
the clamoring crew. Cedric walked by Billy Williams and was
speaking to him. His elated little face was very red, his curls
clung to his hot, moist forehead, his hands were in his pockets.
"You see," he was saying, evidently with the intention of
making defeat easy for his unsuccessful rival, "I guess I won
because my legs are a little longer than yours. I guess that was
it. You see, I'm three days older than you, and that gives me a
'vantage. I'm three days older."
And this view of the case seemed to cheer Billy Williams so much
that he began to smile on the world again, and felt able to
swagger a little, almost as if he had won the race instead of
losing it. Somehow, Ceddie Errol had a way of making people feel
comfortable. Even in the first flush of his triumphs, he
remembered that the person who was beaten might not feel so gay
as he did, and might like to think that he MIGHT have been the
winner under different circumstances.
That morning Mr. Havisham had quite a long conversation with the
winner of the race--a conversation which made him smile his dry
smile, and rub his chin with his bony hand several times.
Mrs. Errol had been called out of the parlor, and the lawyer and
Cedric were left together. At first Mr. Havisham wondered what
he should say to his small companion. He had an idea that
perhaps it would be best to say several things which might
prepare Cedric for meeting his grandfather, and, perhaps, for the
great change that was to come to him. He could see that Cedric
had not the least idea of the sort of thing he was to see when he
reached England, or of the sort of home that waited for him
there. He did not even know yet that his mother was not to live
in the same house with him. They had thought it best to let him
get over the first shock before telling him.
Mr. Havisham sat in an arm-chair on one side of the open window;
on the other side was another still larger chair, and Cedric sat
in that and looked at Mr. Havisham. He sat well back in the
depths of his big seat, his curly head against the cushioned
back, his legs crossed, and his hands thrust deep into his
pockets, in a quite Mr. Hobbs-like way. He had been watching Mr.
Havisham very steadily when his mamma had been in the room, and
after she was gone he still looked at him in respectful
thoughtfulness. There was a short silence after Mrs. Errol went
out, and Cedric seemed to be studying Mr. Havisham, and Mr.
Havisham was certainly studying Cedric. He could not make up his
mind as to what an elderly gentleman should say to a little boy
who won races, and wore short knickerbockers and red stockings on
legs which were not long enough to hang over a big chair when he
sat well back in it.
But Cedric relieved him by suddenly beginning the conversation
himself.
"Do you know," he said, "I don't know what an earl is?"
"Don't you?" said Mr. Havisham.
"No," replied Ceddie. "And I think when a boy is going to be
one, he ought to know. Don't you?"
"Well--yes," answered Mr. Havisham.
"Would you mind," said Ceddie respectfully--"would you mind
'splaining it to me?" (Sometimes when he used his long words he
did not pronounce them quite correctly.) "What made him an
earl?"
"A king or queen, in the first place," said Mr. Havisham.
"Generally, he is made an earl because he has done some service
to his sovereign, or some great deed."
"Oh!" said Cedric; "that's like the President."
"Is it?" said Mr. Havisham. "Is that why your presidents are
elected?"
"Yes," answered Ceddie cheerfully. "When a man is very good
and knows a great deal, he is elected president. They have
torch-light processions and bands, and everybody makes speeches.
I used to think I might perhaps be a president, but I never
thought of being an earl. I didn't know about earls," he said,
rather hastily, lest Mr. Havisham might feel it impolite in him
not to have wished to be one,--"if I'd known about them, I dare
say I should have thought I should like to be one"
"It is rather different from being a president," said Mr.
Havisham.
"Is it?" asked Cedric. "How? Are there no torch-light
processions?"
Mr. Havisham crossed his own legs and put the tips of his fingers
carefully together. He thought perhaps the time had come to
explain matters rather more clearly.
"An earl is--is a very important person," he began.
"So is a president!" put in Ceddie. "The torch-light
processions are five miles long, and they shoot up rockets, and
the band plays! Mr. Hobbs took me to see them."
"An earl," Mr. Havisham went on, feeling rather uncertain of
his ground, "is frequently of very ancient lineage----"
"What's that?" asked Ceddie.
"Of very old family--extremely old."
"Ah!" said Cedric, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.
"I suppose that is the way with the apple-woman near the park.
I dare say she is of ancient lin-lenage. She is so old it would
surprise you how she can stand up. She's a hundred, I should
think, and yet she is out there when it rains, even. I'm sorry
for her, and so are the other boys. Billy Williams once had
nearly a dollar, and I asked him to buy five cents' worth of
apples from her every day until he had spent it all. That made
twenty days, and he grew tired of apples after a week; but
then--it was quite fortunate--a gentleman gave me fifty cents and
I bought apples from her instead. You feel sorry for any one
that's so poor and has such ancient lin-lenage. She says hers
has gone into her bones and the rain makes it worse."
Mr. Havisham felt rather at a loss as he looked at his
companion's innocent, serious little face.
"I am afraid you did not quite understand me," he explained.
"When I said `ancient lineage' I did not mean old age; I meant
that the name of such a family has been known in the world a long
time; perhaps for hundreds of years persons bearing that name
have been known and spoken of in the history of their country."
"Like George Washington," said Ceddie. "I've heard of him
ever since I was born, and he was known about, long before that.
Mr. Hobbs says he will never be forgotten. That's because of the
Declaration of Independence, you know, and the Fourth of July.
You see, he was a very brave man."
"The first Earl of Dorincourt," said Mr. Havisham solemnly,
"was created an earl four hundred years ago."
"Well, well!" said Ceddie. "That was a long time ago! Did
you tell Dearest that? It would int'rust her very much. We'll
tell her when she comes in. She always likes to hear cur'us
things. What else does an earl do besides being created?"
"A great many of them have helped to govern England. Some of
them have been brave men and have fought in great battles in the
old days."
"I should like to do that myself," said Cedric. "My papa was
a soldier, and he was a very brave man--as brave as George
Washington. Perhaps that was because he would have been an earl
if he hadn't died. I am glad earls are brave. That's a great
'vantage--to be a brave man. Once I used to be rather afraid of
things--in the dark, you know; but when I thought about the
soldiers in the Revolution and George Washington--it cured me."
"There is another advantage in being an earl, sometimes," said
Mr. Havisham slowly, and he fixed his shrewd eyes on the little
boy with a rather curious expression. "Some earls have a great
deal of money."
He was curious because he wondered if his young friend knew what
the power of money was.
"That's a good thing to have," said Ceddie innocently. "I
wish I had a great deal of money."
"Do you?" said Mr. Havisham. "And why?"
"Well," explained Cedric, "there are so many things a person
can do with money. You see, there's the apple-woman. If I were
very rich I should buy her a little tent to put her stall in, and
a little stove, and then I should give her a dollar every morning
it rained, so that she could afford to stay at home. And
then--oh! I'd give her a shawl. And, you see, her bones
wouldn't feel so badly. Her bones are not like our bones; they
hurt her when she moves. It's very painful when your bones hurt
you. If I were rich enough to do all those things for her, I
guess her bones would be all right."
"Ahem!" said Mr. Havisham. "And what else would you do if you
were rich?"
"Oh! I'd do a great many things. Of course I should buy
Dearest all sorts of beautiful things, needle-books and fans and
gold thimbles and rings, and an encyclopedia, and a carriage, so
that she needn't have to wait for the street-cars. If she liked
pink silk dresses, I should buy her some, but she likes black
best. But I'd, take her to the big stores, and tell her to look
'round and choose for herself. And then Dick----"
"Who is Dick?" asked Mr. Havisham.
"Dick is a boot-black," said his young; lordship, quite warming
up in his interest in plans so exciting. "He is one of the
nicest boot-blacks you ever knew. He stands at the corner of a
street down-town. I've known him for years. Once when I was
very little, I was walking out with Dearest, and she bought me a
beautiful ball that bounced, and I was carrying it and it bounced
into the middle of the street where the carriages and horses
were, and I was so disappointed, I began to cry--I was very
little. I had kilts on. And Dick was blacking a man's shoes,
and he said `Hello!' and he ran in between the horses and caught
the ball for me and wiped it off with his coat and gave it to me
and said, `It's all right, young un.' So Dearest admired him very
much, and so did I, and ever since then, when we go down-town, we
talk to him. He says `Hello!' and I say `Hello!' and then we
talk a little, and he tells me how trade is. It's been bad
lately."
"And what would you like to do for him?" inquired the lawyer,
rubbing his chin and smiling a queer smile.
"Well," said Lord Fauntleroy, settling himself in his chair
with a business air, "I'd buy Jake out."
"And who is Jake?" Mr. Havisham asked.
"He's Dick's partner, and he is the worst partner a fellow could
have! Dick says so. He isn't a credit to the business, and he
isn't square. He cheats, and that makes Dick mad. It would make
you mad, you know, if you were blacking boots as hard as you
could, and being square all the time, and your partner wasn't
square at all. People like Dick, but they don't like Jake, and
so sometimes they don't come twice. So if I were rich, I'd buy
Jake out and get Dick a `boss' sign--he says a `boss' sign goes a
long way; and I'd get him some new clothes and new brushes, and
start him out fair. He says all he wants is to start out fair."
There could have been nothing more confiding and innocent than
the way in which his small lordship told his little story,
quoting his friend Dick's bits of slang in the most candid good
faith. He seemed to feel not a shade of a doubt that his elderly
companion would be just as interested as he was himself. And in
truth Mr. Havisham was beginning to be greatly interested; but
perhaps not quite so much in Dick and the apple-woman as in this
kind little lordling, whose curly head was so busy, under its
yellow thatch, with good-natured plans for his friends, and who
seemed somehow to have forgotten himself altogether.
"Is there anything----" he began. "What would you get for
yourself, if you were rich?"
"Lots of things!" answered Lord Fauntleroy briskly; "but first
I'd give Mary some money for Bridget--that's her sister, with
twelve children, and a husband out of work. She comes here and
cries, and Dearest gives her things in a basket, and then she
cries again, and says: `Blessin's be on yez, for a beautiful
lady.' And I think Mr. Hobbs would like a gold watch and chain to
remember me by, and a meerschaum pipe. And then I'd like to get
up a company."
"A company!" exclaimed Mr. Havisham.
"Like a Republican rally," explained Cedric, becoming quite
excited. "I'd have torches and uniforms and things for all the
boys and myself, too. And we'd march, you know, and drill.
That's what I should like for myself, if I were rich."
The door opened and Mrs. Errol came in.
"I am sorry to have been obliged to leave you so long," she
said to Mr. Havisham; "but a poor woman, who is in great
trouble, came to see me."
"This young gentleman," said Mr. Havisham, "has been telling
me about some of his friends, and what he would do for them if he
were rich."
"Bridget is one of his friends," said Mrs. Errol; "and it is
Bridget to whom I have been talking in the kitchen. She is in
great trouble now because her husband has rheumatic fever."
Cedric slipped down out of his big chair.
"I think I'll go and see her," he said, "and ask her how he
is. He's a nice man when he is well. I'm obliged to him because
he once made me a sword out of wood. He's a very talented man."
He ran out of the room, and Mr. Havisham rose from his chair. He
seemed to have something in his mind which he wished to speak of.
He hesitated a moment, and then said, looking down at Mrs. Errol:
"Before I left Dorincourt Castle, I had an interview with the
Earl, in which he gave me some instructions. He is desirous that
his grandson should look forward with some pleasure to his future
life in England, and also to his acquaintance with himself. He
said that I must let his lordship know that the change in his
life would bring him money and the pleasures children enjoy; if
he expressed any wishes, I was to gratify them, and to tell him
that his grand-father had given him what he wished. I am aware
that the Earl did not expect anything quite like this; but if it
would give Lord Fauntleroy pleasure to assist this poor woman, I
should feel that the Earl would be displeased if he were not
gratified."
For the second time, he did not repeat the Earl's exact words.
His lordship had, indeed, said:
"Make the lad understand that I can give him anything he wants.
Let him know what it is to be the grandson of the Earl of
Dorincourt. Buy him everything he takes a fancy to; let him have
money in his pockets, and tell him his grandfather put it
there."
His motives were far from being good, and if he had been dealing
with a nature less affectionate and warm-hearted than little Lord
Fauntleroy's, great harm might have been done. And Cedric's
mother was too gentle to suspect any harm. She thought that
perhaps this meant that a lonely, unhappy old man, whose children
were dead, wished to be kind to her little boy, and win his love
and confidence. And it pleased her very much to think that
Ceddie would be able to help Bridget. It made her happier to
know that the very first result of the strange fortune which had
befallen her little boy was that he could do kind things for
those who needed kindness. Quite a warm color bloomed on her
pretty young face.
"Oh!" she said, "that was very kind of the Earl; Cedric will
be so glad! He has always been fond of Bridget and Michael.
They are quite deserving. I have often wished I had been able to
help them more. Michael is a hard-working man when he is well,
but he has been ill a long time and needs expensive medicines and
warm clothing and nourishing food. He and Bridget will not be
wasteful of what is given them."
Mr. Havisham put his thin hand in his breast pocket and drew
forth a large pocket-book. There was a queer look in his keen
face. The truth was, he was wondering what the Earl of
Dorincourt would say when he was told what was the first wish of
his grandson that had been granted. He wondered what the cross,
worldly, selfish old nobleman would think of it.
"I do not know that you have realized," he said, "that the
Earl of Dorincourt is an exceedingly rich man. He can afford to
gratify any caprice. I think it would please him to know that
Lord Fauntleroy had been indulged in any fancy. If you will call
him back and allow me, I shall give him five pounds for these
people."
"That would be twenty-five dollars!" exclaimed Mrs. Errol.
"It will seem like wealth to them. "I can scarcely believe
that it is true."
"It is quite true," said Mr. Havisham, with his dry smile. "A
great change has taken place in your son's life, a great deal of
power will lie in his hands."
"Oh!" cried his mother. "And he is such a little boy--a very
little boy. How can I teach him to use it well? It makes me
half afraid. My pretty little Ceddie!"
The lawyer slightly cleared his throat. It touched his worldly,
hard old heart to see the tender, timid look in her brown eyes.
"I think, madam," he said, "that if I may judge from my
interview with Lord Fauntleroy this morning, the next Earl of
Dorincourt will think for others as well as for his noble self.
He is only a child yet, but I think he may be trusted."
Then his mother went for Cedric and brought him back into the
parlor. Mr. Havisham heard him talking before he entered the
room.
"It's infam-natory rheumatism," he was saying, "and that's a
kind of rheumatism that's dreadful. And he thinks about the rent
not being paid, and Bridget says that makes the inf'ammation
worse. And Pat could get a place in a store if he had some
clothes."
His little face looked quite anxious when he came in. He was
very sorry for Bridget.
"Dearest said you wanted me," he said to Mr. Havisham. "I've
been talking to Bridget."
Mr. Havisham looked down at him a moment. He felt a little
awkward and undecided. As Cedric's mother had said, he was a
very little boy.
"The Earl of Dorincourt----" he began, and then he glanced
involuntarily at Mrs. Errol.
Little Lord Fauntleroy's mother suddenly kneeled down by him and
put both her tender arms around his childish body.
"Ceddie," she said, "the Earl is your grandpapa, your own
papa's father. He is very, very kind, and he loves you and
wishes you to love him, because the sons who were his little boys
are dead. He wishes you to be happy and to make other people
happy. He is very rich, and he wishes you to have everything you
would like to have. He told Mr. Havisham so, and gave him a
great deal of money for you. You can give some to Bridget now;
enough to pay her rent and buy Michael everything. Isn't that
fine, Ceddie? Isn't he good?" And she kissed the child on his
round cheek, where the bright color suddenly flashed up in his
excited amazement.
He looked from his mother to Mr. Havisham.
"Can I have it now?" he cried. "Can I give it to her this
minute? She's just going."
Mr. Havisham handed him the money. It was in fresh, clean
greenbacks and made a neat roll.
Ceddie flew out of the room with it.
"Bridget!" they heard him shout, as he tore into the kitchen.
"Bridget, wait a minute! Here's some money. It's for you, and
you can pay the rent. My grandpapa gave it to me. It's for you
and Michael!"
"Oh, Master Ceddie!" cried Bridget, in an awe-stricken voice.
"It's twinty-foive dollars is here. Where be's the misthress?"
"I think I shall have to go and explain it to her," Mrs. Errol
said.
So she, too, went out of the room and Mr. Havisham was left alone
for a while. He went to the window and stood looking out into
the street reflectively. He was thinking of the old Earl of
Dorincourt, sitting in his great, splendid, gloomy library at the
castle, gouty and lonely, surrounded by grandeur and luxury, but
not really loved by any one, because in all his long life he had
never really loved any one but himself; he had been selfish and
self-indulgent and arrogant and passionate; he had cared so much
for the Earl of Dorincourt and his pleasures that there had been
no time for him to think of other people; all his wealth and
power, all the benefits from his noble name and high rank, had
seemed to him to be things only to be used to amuse and give
pleasure to the Earl of Dorincourt; and now that he was an old
man, all this excitement and self-indulgence had only brought him
ill health and irritability and a dislike of the world, which
certainly disliked him. In spite of all his splendor, there was
never a more unpopular old nobleman than the Earl of Dorincourt,
and there could scarcely have been a more lonely one. He could
fill his castle with guests if he chose. He could give great
dinners and splendid hunting parties; but he knew that in secret
the people who would accept his invitations were afraid of his
frowning old face and sarcastic, biting speeches. He had a cruel
tongue and a bitter nature, and he took pleasure in sneering at
people and making them feel uncomfortable, when he had the power
to do so, because they were sensitive or proud or timid.
Mr. Havisham knew his hard, fierce ways by heart, and he was
thinking of him as he looked out of the window into the narrow,
quiet street. And there rose in his mind, in sharp contrast, the
picture of the cheery, handsome little fellow sitting in the big
chair and telling his story of his friends, Dick and the
apple-woman, in his generous, innocent, honest way. And he
thought of the immense income, the beautiful, majestic estates,
the wealth, and power for good or evil, which in the course of
time would lie in the small, chubby hands little Lord Fauntleroy
thrust so deep into his pockets.
"It will make a great difference," he said to himself. "It
will make a great difference."
Cedric and his mother came back soon after. Cedric was in high
spirits. He sat down in his own chair, between his mother and
the lawyer, and fell into one of his quaint attitudes, with his
hands on his knees. He was glowing with enjoyment of Bridget's
relief and rapture.
"She cried!" he said. "She said she was crying for joy! I
never saw any one cry for joy before. My grandpapa must be a
very good man. I didn't know he was so good a man. It's
more--more agreeabler to be an earl than I thought it was. I'm
almost glad--I'm almost QUITE glad I'm going to be one."
