r and sweet it was, and how the bright hair curled as softly as a
child's under 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 had
actually ridden to her door the day before, sitting very straight and
looking very proud and happy. But soon she could not help being
attracted by the fact that she was being looked at and that her arrival
had created some sort of sensation. She first noticed it because an old
woman in a red cloak made a bobbing curtsy to her, and then another did
the same thing and said, "God bless you, my lady!" and one man after
another took off his hat as she passed. For a moment she did not
understand, and then she realized that it was because she was little
Lord Fauntleroy's mother that they did so, and she flushed rather shyly
and smiled and bowed too, and said, "Thank you" in a gentle voice to the
old woman who had blessed her. To a person who had always lived in a
bustling, crowded American city this simple deference was very novel,
and at first just a little embarrassing; but after all, she could not
help liking and being touched by the friendly warm-heartedness of which
it seemed to speak. She had scarcely passed through the stone porch into
the church before the great event of the day happened. The carriage from
the Castle, with its handsome horses and tall liveried servants, bowled
around 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 the
door, and a little boy, dressed in black velvet, and with a splendid mop
of 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 who
remembered his father. "He's the Captain's self, to the life!"

He stood there in the sunlight looking up at the Earl, as Thomas helped
that nobleman out, with the most affectionate interest that could be
imagined. 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 the 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, F