Chapter IX

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　The fact was, his lordship the Earl of Dorincourt thought inthose days, of many things of which he had never thought before,and all his thoughts were in one way or another connected withhis grandson. His pride was the strongest part of his nature,and the boy gratified it at every point. Through this pride hebegan to find a new interest in life. He began to take pleasurein showing his heir to the world. The world had known of hisdisappointment in his sons; so there was an agreeable touch oftriumph in exhibiting this new Lord Fauntleroy, who coulddisappoint no one. He wished the child to appreciate his ownpower and to understand the splendor of his position; he wishedthat others should realize it too. He made plans for his future.Sometimes in secret he actually found himself wishing that hisown past life had been a better one, and that there had been lessin it that this pure, childish heart would shrink from if it knewthe truth. It was not agreeable to think how the beautiful,innocent face would look if its owner should be made by anychance to understand that his grandfather had been called formany a year "the wicked Earl of Dorincourt." The thought evenmade him feel a trifle nervous. He did not wish the boy to findit out. Sometimes in this new interest he forgot his gout, andafter a while his doctor was surprised to find his noblepatient's health growing better than he had expected it everwould be again. Perhaps the Earl grew better because the timedid not pass so slowly for him, and he had something to think ofbeside his pains and infirmities. One fine morning, people were amazed to see little LordFauntleroy riding his pony with another companion than Wilkins.This new companion rode a tall, powerful gray horse, and was noother than the Earl himself. It was, in fact, Fauntleroy who hadsuggested this plan. As he had been on the point of mounting hispony, he had said rather wistfully to his grandfather:"I wish you were going with me. When I go away I feel lonelybecause you are left all by yourself in such a big castle. Iwish you could ride too."And the greatest excitement had been aroused in the stables a fewminutes later by the arrival of an order that Selim was to besaddled for the Earl. After that, Selim was saddled almost everyday; and the people became accustomed to the sight of the tallgray horse carrying the tall gray old man, with his handsome,fierce, eagle face, by the side of the brown pony which borelittle Lord Fauntleroy. And in their rides together through thegreen lanes and pretty country roads, the two riders became moreintimate than ever. And gradually the old man heard a great dealabout "Dearest" and her life. As Fauntleroy trotted by the bighorse he chatted gayly. There could not well have been abrighter little comrade, his nature was so happy. It was he whotalked the most. The Earl often was silent, listening andwatching the joyous, glowing face. Sometimes he would tell hisyoung companion to set the pony off at a gallop, and when thelittle fellow dashed off, sitting so straight and fearless, hewould watch him with a gleam of pride and pleasure in his eyes;and when, after such a dash, Fauntleroy came back waving his capwith a laughing shout, he always felt that he and his grandfatherwere very good friends indeed.One thing that the Earl discovered was that his son's wife didnot lead an idle life. It was not long before he learned thatthe poor people knew her very well indeed. When there wassickness or sorrow or poverty in any house, the little broughamoften stood before the door."Do you know," said Fauntleroy once, "they all say, `God blessyou!' when they see her, and the children are glad. There aresome who go to her house to be taught to sew. She says she feelsso rich now that she wants to help the poor ones."It had not displeased the Earl to find that the mother of hisheir had a beautiful young face and looked as much like a lady asif she had been a duchess; and in one way it did not displeasehim to know that she was popular and beloved by the poor. Andyet he was often conscious of a hard, jealous pang when he sawhow she filled her child's heart and how the boy clung to her ashis best beloved. The old man would have desired to stand firsthimself and have no rival.That same morning he drew up his horse on an elevated point ofthe moor over which they rode, and made a gesture with his whip,over the broad, beautiful landscape spread before them."Do you know that all that land belongs to me?" he said toFauntleroy."Does it?" answered Fauntleroy. "How much it is to belong toone person, and how beautiful!""Do you know that some day it will all belong to you--that and agreat deal more?""To me!" exclaimed Fauntleroy in rather an awe-stricken voice."When?""When I am dead," his grandfather answered."Then I don't want it," said Fauntleroy; "I want you to livealways.""That's kind," answered the Earl in his dry way;"nevertheless, some day it will all be yours--some day you willbe the Earl of Dorincourt."Little Lord Fauntleroy sat very still in his saddle for a fewmoments. He looked over the broad moors, the green farms, thebeautiful copses, the cottages in the lanes, the pretty village,and over the trees to where the turrets of the great castle rose,gray and stately. Then he gave a queer little sigh."What are you thinking of?" asked the Earl."I am thinking," replied Fauntleroy, "what a little boy I am!and of what Dearest said to me.""What was it?" inquired the Earl."She said that perhaps it was not so easy to be very rich; thatif any one had so many things always, one might sometimes forgetthat every one else was not so fortunate, and that one who isrich should always be careful and try to remember. I was talkingto her about how good you were, and she said that was such a goodthing, because an earl had so much power, and if he cared onlyabout his own pleasure and never thought about the people wholived on his lands, they might have trouble that he couldhelp--and there were so many people, and it would be such a hardthing. And I was just looking at all those houses, and thinkinghow I should have to find out about the people, when I was anearl. How did you find out about them?"As his lordship's knowledge of his tenantry consisted in findingout which of them paid their rent promptly, and in turning outthose who did not, this was rather a hard question. "Newickfinds out for me," he said, and he pulled his great graymustache, and looked at his small questioner rather uneasily."We will go home now," he added; "and when you are an earl,see to it that you are a better earl than I have been!"He was very silent as they rode home. He felt it to be almostincredible that he who had never really loved any one in hislife, should find himself growing so fond of this littlefellow,--as without doubt he was. At first he had only beenpleased and proud of Cedric's beauty and bravery, but there wassomething more than pride in his feeling now. He laughed a grim,dry laugh all to himself sometimes, when he thought how he likedto have the boy near him, how he liked to hear his voice, and howin secret he really wished to be liked and thought well of by hissmall grandson."I'm an old fellow in my dotage, and I have nothing else tothink of," he would say to himself; and yet he knew it was notthat altogether. And if he had allowed himself to admit thetruth, he would perhaps have found himself obliged to own thatthe very things which attracted him, in spite of himself, werethe qualities he had never possessed--the frank, true, kindlynature, the affectionate trustfulness which could never thinkevil.It was only about a week after that ride when, after a visit tohis mother, Fauntleroy came into the library with a troubled,thoughtful face. He sat down in that high-backed chair in whichhe had sat on the evening of his arrival, and for a while helooked at the embers on the hearth. The Earl watched him insilence, wondering what was coming. It was evident that Cedrichad something on his mind. At last he looked up. "Does Newickknow all about the people?" he asked."It is his business to know about them," said his lordship."Been neglecting it--has he?"Contradictory as it may seem, there was nothing which entertainedand edified him more than the little fellow's interest in histenantry. He had never taken any interest in them himself, butit pleased him well enough that, with all his childish habits ofthought and in the midst of all his childish amusements and highspirits, there should be such a quaint seriousness working in thecurly head."There is a place," said Fauntleroy, looking up at him withwide-open, horror-stricken eye--"Dearest has seen it; it is atthe other end of the village. The houses are close together, andalmost falling down; you can scarcely breathe; and the people areso poor, and everything is dreadful! Often they have fever, andthe children die; and it makes them wicked to live like that, andbe so poor and miserable! It is worse than Michael and Bridget!The rain comes in at the roof! Dearest went to see a poor womanwho lived there. She would not let me come near her until shehad changed all her things. The tears ran down her cheeks whenshe told me about it!"The tears had come into his own eyes, but he smiled through them."I told her you didn't know, and I would tell you," he said.He jumped down and came and leaned against the Earl's chair."You can make it all right," he said, "just as you made it allright for Higgins. You always make it all right for everybody.I told her you would, and that Newick must have forgotten to tellyou."The Earl looked down at the hand on his knee. Newick had notforgotten to tell him; in fact, Newick had spoken to him morethan once of the desperate condition of the end of the villageknown as Earl's Court. He knew all about the tumble-down,miserable cottages, and the bad drainage, and the damp walls andbroken windows and leaking roofs, and all about the poverty, thefever, and the misery. Mr. Mordaunt had painted it all to him inthe strongest words he could use, and his lordship had usedviolent language in response; and, when his gout had been at theworst, he said that the sooner the people of Earl's Court diedand were buried by the parish the better it would be,--and therewas an end of the matter. And yet, as he looked at the smallhand on his knee, and from the small hand to the honest, earnest,frank-eyed face, he was actually a little ashamed both of Earl'sCourt and himself."What!" he said; "you want to make a builder of model cottagesof me, do you?" And he positively put his own hand upon thechildish one and stroked it."Those must be pulled down," said Fauntleroy, with greateagerness. "Dearest says so. Let us--let us go and have thempulled down to-morrow. The people will be so glad when they seeyou! They'll know you have come to help them!" And his eyesshone like stars in his glowing face.The Earl rose from his chair and put his hand on the child'sshoulder. "Let us go out and take our walk on the terrace," hesaid, with a short laugh; "and we can talk it over."And though he laughed two or three times again, as they walked toand fro on the broad stone terrace, where they walked togetheralmost every fine evening, he seemed to be thinking of somethingwhich did not displease him, and still he kept his hand on hissmall companion's shoulder.