Little Lord Fauntleroy

  VII

  On the following Sunday morning, Mr. Mordaunt had a large congregation.Indeed, he could scarcely remember any Sunday on which the church hadbeen so crowded. People appeared upon the scene who seldom did him thehonor of coming to hear his sermons.

  There were even people from Hazelton, which was the next parish. Therewere hearty, sunburned farmers, stout, comfortable, apple-cheekedwives in their best bonnets and most gorgeous shawls, and half a dozenchildren or so to each family. The doctor's wife was there, with herfour daughters. Mrs. Kimsey and Mr. Kimsey, who kept the druggist'sshop, and made pills, and did up powders for everybody within tenmiles, sat in their pew; Mrs. Dibble in hers; Miss Smiff, the villagedressmaker, and her friend Miss Perkins, the milliner, sat in theirs;the doctor's young man was present, and the druggist's apprentice; infact, almost every family on the county side was represented, in one wayor another.

  In the course of the preceding week, many wonderful stories had beentold of little Lord Fauntleroy. Mrs. Dibble had been kept so busyattending to customers who came in to buy a pennyworth of needles ora ha'porth of tape and to hear what she had to relate, that the littleshop bell over the door had nearly tinkled itself to death over thecoming and going. Mrs. Dibble knew exactly how his small lordship'srooms had been furnished for him, what expensive toys had been bought,how there was a beautiful brown pony awaiting him, and a small groom toattend it, and a little dog-cart, with silver-mounted harness. And shecould tell, too, what all the servants had said when they had caughtglimpses of the child on the night of his arrival; and how every femalebelow stairs had said it was a shame, so it was, to part the poor prettydear from his mother; and had all declared their hearts came into theirmouths when he went alone into the library to see his grandfather, for"there was no knowing how he'd be treated, and his lordship's temper wasenough to fluster them with old heads on their shoulders, let alone achild."

  "But if you'll believe me, Mrs. Jennifer, mum," Mrs. Dibble had said,"fear that child does not know--so Mr. Thomas hisself says; an' set an'smile he did, an' talked to his lordship as if they'd been friends eversince his first hour. An' the Earl so took aback, Mr. Thomas says, thathe couldn't do nothing but listen and stare from under his eyebrows. An'it's Mr. Thomas's opinion, Mrs. Bates, mum, that bad as he is, he waspleased in his secret soul, an' proud, too; for a handsomer littlefellow, or with better manners, though so old-fashioned, Mr. Thomas sayshe'd never wish to see."

  And then there had come the story of Higgins. The Reverend Mr. Mordaunthad told it at his own dinner table, and the servants who had heard ithad told it in the kitchen, and from there it had spread like wildfire.

  And on market-day, when Higgins had appeared in town, he had beenquestioned on every side, and Newick had been questioned too, and inresponse had shown to two or three people the note signed "Fauntleroy."

  And so the farmers' wives had found plenty to talk of over their tea andtheir shopping, and they had done the subject full justice and made themost of it. And on Sunday they had either walked to church or hadbeen driven in their gigs by their husbands, who were perhaps a triflecurious themselves about the new little lord who was to be in time theowner of the soil.

  It was by no means the Earl's habit to attend church, but he chose toappear on this first Sunday--it was his whim to present himself in thehuge family pew, with Fauntleroy at his side.

  There were many loiterers in the churchyard, and many lingerers in thelane that morning. There were groups at the gates and in the porch, andthere had been much discussion as to whether my lord would really appearor not. When this discussion was at its height, one good woman suddenlyuttered an exclamation.

  "Eh," she said, "that must be the mother, pretty young thing." All whoheard turned and looked at the slender figure in black coming up thepath. The veil was thrown back from her face and they could see how fairand sweet it was, and how the bright hair curled as softly as a child'sunder the little widow's cap.

  She was not thinking of the people about; she was thinking of Cedric,and of his visits to her, and his joy over his new pony, on which he hadactually ridden to her door the day before, sitting very straightand looking very proud and happy. But soon she could not help beingattracted by the fact that she was being looked at and that her arrivalhad created some sort of sensation. She first noticed it because an oldwoman in a red cloak made a bobbing courtesy to her, and then anotherdid the same thing and said, "God bless you, my lady!" and one manafter another took off his hat as she passed. For a moment she did notunderstand, and then she realized that it was because she was littleLord Fauntleroy's mother that they did so, and she flushed rather shylyand smiled and bowed too, and said, "Thank you," in a gentle voice tothe old woman who had blessed her. To a person who had always lived ina bustling, crowded American city this simple deference was very novel,and at first just a little embarrassing; but after all, she could nothelp liking and being touched by the friendly warm-heartedness of whichit seemed to speak. She had scarcely passed through the stone porch intothe church before the great event of the day happened. The carriage fromthe Castle, with its handsome horses and tall liveried servants, bowledaround the corner and down the green lane.

  "Here they come!" went from one looker-on to another.

  And then the carriage drew up, and Thomas stepped down and opened thedoor, and a little boy, dressed in black velvet, and with a splendid mopof bright waving hair, jumped out.

  Every man, woman, and child looked curiously upon him.

  "He's the Captain over again!" said those of the on-lookers whoremembered his father. "He's the Captain's self, to the life!"

  He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the Earl, as Thomas helpedthat nobleman out, with the most affectionate interest that could beimagined. The instant he could help, he put out his hand and offered hisshoulder as if he had been seven feet high. It was plain enough to everyone that however it might be with other people, the Earl of Dorincourtstruck no terror into the breast of his grandson.

  "Just lean on me," they heard him say. "How glad the people are to seeyou, and how well they all seem to know you!"

  "Take off your cap, Fauntleroy," said the Earl. "They are bowing toyou."

  "To me!" cried Fauntleroy, whipping off his cap in a moment, baring hisbright head to the crowd and turning shining, puzzled eyes on them as hetried to bow to every one at once.

  "God bless your lordship!" said the courtesying, red-cloaked old womanwho had spoken to his mother; "long life to you!"

  "Thank you, ma'am," said Fauntleroy. And then they went into the church,and were looked at there, on their way up the aisle to the square,red-cushioned and curtained pew. When Fauntleroy was fairly seated,he made two discoveries which pleased him: the first that, across thechurch where he could look at her, his mother sat and smiled at him; thesecond, that at one end of the pew, against the wall, knelt two quaintfigures carven in stone, facing each other as they kneeled on eitherside of a pillar supporting two stone missals, their pointed handsfolded as if in prayer, their dress very antique and strange. On thetablet by them was written something of which he could only read thecurious words:

  "Here lyeth ye bodye of Gregorye Arthure Fyrst Earle of DorincourtAllsoe of Alisone Hildegarde hys wyfe."

  "May I whisper?" inquired his lordship, devoured by curiosity.

  "What is it?" said his grandfather.

  "Who are they?"

  "Some of your ancestors," answered the Earl, "who lived a few hundredyears ago."

  "Perhaps," said Lord Fauntleroy, regarding them with respect, "perhapsI got my spelling from them." And then he proceeded to find his place inthe church service. When the music began, he stood up and looked acrossat his mother, smiling. He was very fond of music, and his mother andhe often sang together, so he joined in with the rest, his pure, sweet,high voice rising as clear as the song of a bird. He quite forgothimself in his pleasure in it. The Earl forgot himself a little too, ashe sat in his curtain-shielded corner of the pew and watched the boy
.Cedric stood with the big psalter open in his hands, singing with allhis childish might, his face a little uplifted, happily; and as he sang,a long ray of sunshine crept in and, slanting through a golden pane of astained glass window, brightened the falling hair about his young head.His mother, as she looked at him across the church, felt a thrill passthrough her heart, and a prayer rose in it too,--a prayer that the pure,simple happiness of his childish soul might last, and that the strange,great fortune which had fallen to him might bring no wrong or evil withit. There were many soft, anxious thoughts in her tender heart in thosenew days.

  "Oh, Ceddie!" she had said to him the evening before, as she hung overhim in saying good-night, before he went away; "oh, Ceddie, dear, I wishfor 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, andthen you will never hurt any one, so long as you live, and you may helpmany, and the big world may be better because my little child was born.And that is best of all, Ceddie,--it is better than everything else,that the world should be a little better because a man has lived--evenever so little better, dearest."

  And on his return to the Castle, Fauntleroy had repeated her words tohis grandfather.

  "And I thought about you when she said that," he ended; "and I told herthat was the way the world was because you had lived, and I was going totry if I 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 andtry to be like it."

  Perhaps it was this the old man remembered as he glanced through thedivided folds of the red curtain of his pew. Many times he looked overthe people's heads to where his son's wife sat alone, and he saw thefair face the unforgiven dead had loved, and the eyes which were so likethose of the child at his side; but what his thoughts were, and whetherthey were hard and bitter, or softened a little, it would have been hardto discover.

  As they came out of church, many of those who had attended the servicestood waiting to see them pass. As they neared the gate, a man who stoodwith his hat in his hand made a step forward and then hesitated. He wasa middle-aged farmer, with a careworn face.

  "Well, Higgins," said the Earl.

  Fauntleroy turned quickly to look at him.

  "Oh!" he exclaimed, "is it Mr. Higgins?"

  "Yes," answered the Earl dryly; "and I suppose he came to take a look athis new landlord."

  "Yes, my lord," said the man, his sunburned face reddening. "Mr. Newicktold me his young lordship was kind enough to speak for me, and Ithought I'd like to say a word of thanks, if I might be allowed."

  Perhaps he felt some wonder when he saw what a little fellow it was whohad innocently done so much for him, and who stood there looking up justas one of his own less fortunate children might have done--apparentlynot realizing his own importance in the least.

  "I'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 grandfatherwho did it. But you know how he is about always being good to everybody.Is Mrs. Higgins well now?"

  Higgins looked a trifle taken aback. He also was somewhat startled athearing his noble landlord presented in the character of a benevolentbeing, full of engaging qualities.

  "I--well, yes, your lordship," he stammered, "the missus is better sincethe trouble was took off her mind. It was worrying broke her down."

  "I'm glad of that," said Fauntleroy. "My grandfather was very sorryabout your children having the scarlet fever, and so was I. He has hadchildren himself. I'm his son's little boy, you know."

  Higgins was on the verge of being panic-stricken. He felt it would bethe safer and more discreet plan not to look at the Earl, as it had beenwell known that his fatherly affection for his sons had been such thathe had seen them about twice a year, and that when they had been ill,he had promptly departed for London, because he would not be bored withdoctors and nurses. It was a little trying, therefore, to his lordship'snerves to be told, while he looked on, his eyes gleaming from under hisshaggy eyebrows, that he felt an interest in scarlet fever.

  "You see, Higgins," broke in the Earl with a fine grim smile, "youpeople have been mistaken in me. Lord Fauntleroy understands me. Whenyou want reliable information on the subject of my character, apply tohim. Get into the carriage, Fauntleroy."

  And Fauntleroy jumped in, and the carriage rolled away down the greenlane, and even when it turned the corner into the high road, the Earlwas still grimly smiling.