oolly. "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 honor," 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 is only seven years old!"

"He has spent those seven years at his mother's side," returned Mr.
Havisham; "and she has all his affection."

V

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
door 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
courtesying and smiling, and the children, on receiving a sign from her,
made bobbing little courtesies too.

"Does she know me?" asked Lord Fauntleroy. "I think she must think she
knows me." And he took off his