for the sake of trying how far the boy's courage and endurance
would go, and it pleased him to know that his grandson had not quailed
and had not seemed to think even for a moment of giving up what he had
undertaken to do.

"You don't wear your coronet all the time?" remarked Lord Fauntleroy
respectfully.

"No," replied the Earl, with his grim smile; "it is not becoming to me."

"Mr. Hobbs said you always wore it," said Cedric; "but after he thought
it over, he said he supposed you must sometimes take it off to put your
hat on."

"Yes," said the Earl, "I take it off occasionally."

And one of the footmen suddenly turned aside and gave a singular little
cough behind his hand.

Cedric finished his dinner first, and then he leaned back in his chair
and took a survey of the room.

"You must be very proud of your house," he said, "it's such a beautiful
house. I never saw anything so beautiful; but, of course, as I'm only
seven, I haven't seen much."

"And you think I must be proud of it, do you?" said the Earl.

"I should think any one would be proud of it," replied Lord Fauntleroy.
"I should be proud of it if it were my house. Everything about it is
beautiful. And the park, and those trees,--how beautiful they are, and
how the leaves rustle!"

Then he paused an instant and looked across the table rather wistfully.

"It's a very big house for just two people to live in, isn't it?" he
said.

"It is quite large enough for two," answered the Earl. "Do you find it
too large?"

His little lordship hesitated a moment.

"I was only thinking," he said, "that if two people lived in it who were
not very good companions, they might feel lonely sometimes."

"Do you think I shall make a good companion?" inquired the Earl.

"Yes," replied Cedric, "I think you will. Mr. Hobbs and I were great
friends. He was the best friend I had except Dearest."

The Earl made a quick movement of his bushy eyebrows.

"Who is Dearest?"

"She is my mother," said Lord Fauntleroy, in a rather low, quiet little
voice.

Perhaps he was a trifle tired, as his bed-time was nearing, and perhaps
after the excitement of the last few days it was natural he should be
tired, so perhaps, too, the feeling of weariness brought to him a vague
sense of loneliness in the remembrance that to-night he was not to sleep
at home, watched over by the loving eyes of that "best friend" of his.
They had always been "best friends," this boy and his young moth