Little Lord Fauntleroy

‘Straight-limbed and well enough to look at?’ demanded the Earl.

A very slight smile touched Mr Havisham’s thin lips. There rose up before his mind’s eye the picture he had left at Court Lodge – the beautiful, graceful child’s body lying upon the tiger-skin in careless comfort – the bright, tumbled hair spread on the rug – the bright, rosy boy’s face.

‘Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord, as boys go,’ he said, ‘though I am scarcely a judge perhaps. But you will find him somewhat different to most English children, I dare say.’

‘I haven’t a doubt of that,’ snarled the Earl, a twinge of gout seizing him. ‘A lot of impudent little beggars, those American children; I’ve heard that often enough.’

‘It is not exactly impudence in his case,’ said Mr Havisham. ‘I can scarcely describe what the difference is. He has lived more with older people than with children, and the difference seems to be a mixture of maturity and childishness.’

‘American impudence!’ protested the Earl. ‘I’ve heard of it before. They call it precocity and freedom. Beastly, impudent, bad manners; that’s what it is!’

Mr Havisham drank some more port. He seldom argued with his lordly patron – never when his lordly patron’s noble leg was inflamed by gout. At such times it was always better to leave him alone. So there was a silence of a few moments; it was Mr Havisham who broke it.

‘I have a message to deliver from Mrs Errol,’ he remarked.

‘I don’t want any of her messages!’ growled his lordship; ‘the less I hear of her the better.’

‘This is a rather important one,’ explained the lawyer. ‘She prefers not to accept the income you proposed to settle on her.’

The Earl started visibly.

‘What’s that?’ he cried out. ‘What’s that?’

Mr Havisham repeated his words.

‘She says it is not necessary, and that as the relations between you are not friendly –’

‘Not friendly!’ ejaculated my lord savagely; ‘I should say they were not friendly! I hate to think of her! A mercenary, sharp-voiced American! I don’t wish to see her!’

‘My lord,’ said Mr Havisham, ‘you can scarcely call her mercenary. She has asked for nothing. She does not accept the money you offer her.’

‘All done for effect!’ snapped his noble lordship. ‘She wants to wheedle me into seeing her. She thinks I shall admire her spirit. I don’t admire it! It’s only American independence! I won’t have her living like a beggar at my park gates. As she’s the boy’s mother she has a position to keep up, and she shall keep it up. She shall have the money, whether she likes it or not!’

‘She won’t spend it,’ said Mr Havisham.

‘I don’t care whether she spends it or not!’ blustered my lord. ‘She shall have it sent to her. She shan’t tell people that she has to live like a pauper because I have done nothing for her! She wants to give the boy a bad opinion of me! I suppose she has poisoned his mind against me already!’

‘No,’ said Mr Havisham. ‘I have another message, which will prove to you that she has not done that.’

‘I don’t want to hear it!’ panted the Earl, out of breath with anger and excitement and gout.

But Mr Havisham delivered it.

‘She asks you not to let Lord Fauntleroy hear anything which would lead him to understand that you separate him from her because of your prejudice against her. He is very fond of her, and she is convinced that it would cause a barrier to exist between you. She says he would not comprehend it and it might make him fear you in some measure, or at least cause him to feel less affection for you. She has told him that he is too young to understand the reason, but shall hear it when he is older. She wishes that there should be no shadow on your first meeting.’

The Earl sank back into his chair. His deep-set fierce old eyes gleamed under his beetling brows.

‘Come, now!’ he said, still breathlessly. ‘Come now! You don’t mean the mother hasn’t told him?’

‘Not one word, my lord,’ replied the lawyer coolly. ‘That I can assure you. The child is prepared to believe you the most amiable and affectionate of grandparents. Nothing – absolutely nothing – has been said to him to give him the slightest doubt of your perfection. And as I carried out your commands in every detail, while in New York, he certainly regards you as a wonder of generosity.’

‘He does, eh?’ said the Earl.

‘I give you my word of honour,’ said Mr Havisham, ‘that Lord Fauntleroy’s impressions of you will depend entirely upon yourself. And if you will pardon the liberty I take in making the suggestion, I think you will succeed better with him if you take the precaution not to speak slightingly of his mother.’

‘Pooh, pooh!’ said the Earl. ‘The youngster’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.’

CHAPTER 5 At the Castle (#ulink_6cb252c8-a110-5ff9-b279-9982db44b5b4)

It was late in the afternoon when the carriage containing little Lord Fauntleroy and Mr Havisham drove up the long avenue which led to the Castle. The Earl had given orders that his grandson should arrive in time to dine with him, and for some reason best known to himself he had also ordered that the child should be sent alone into the room in which he intended to receive him. As the carriage rolled up the avenue, Lord Fauntleroy sat leaning comfortably against the luxurious cushions, and regarded the prospect with great interest. He was, in fact, interested in everything he saw. He had been interested in the carriage, with its large, splendid horses and their glittering harness; he had been interested in the tall coachman and footman, with their resplendent livery; and he had been especially interested in the coronet on the panels, and had struck up an acquaintance with the footman for the purpose of inquiring what it meant.

When the carriage reached the great gates of the park, he looked out of the window to get a good view of the huge stone lions ornamenting the entrance. The gates were opened by a motherly, rosy-looking woman, who came out of a pretty ivy-covered lodge. Two children ran out of the house and stood looking with round wide-open eyes at the little boy in the carriage, who looked at them also. Their mother stood curtsying and smiling, and the children, on receiving a sign from her, made bobbing little curtsies too.

‘Does she know me?’ asked Lord Fauntleroy. ‘I think she must think she knows me.’ And he took off his black velvet cap to her and smiled.

‘How do you do?’ he said brightly. ‘Good afternoon!’

The woman seemed pleased, he thought. The smile broadened on her rosy face and a kind look came into her blue eyes.

‘God bless your lordship!’ she said. ‘God bless your pretty face! Good luck and happiness to your lordship! Welcome to you!’