up, he whips off his cap an’ ses he, ’I’ve brought your son home, ma’am,’ ses he, ’because his leg hurt him, and I don’t think that stick is enough for him to lean on; and I’m going to ask my grandfather to have a pair of crutches made for him.’  An’ I’m blessed if the woman wasn’t struck all of a heap, as well she might be!  I thought I should ‘a’ hex-plodid, myself!”

When the Earl heard the story he was not angry, as Wilkins had been half afraid that he would be; on the contrary, he laughed outright, and called Fauntleroy up to him, and made him tell all about the matter from beginning to end, and then he laughed again.  And actually, a few days later, the Dorincourt carriage stopped in the green lane before the cottage where the lame boy lived, and Fauntleroy jumped out and walked up to the door, carrying a pair of strong, light, new crutches shouldered like a gun, and presented them to Mrs. Hartle (the lame boy’s name was Hartle) with these words:  “My grandfather’s compliments, and if you please, these are for your boy, and we hope he will get better.”

“I said your compliments,” he explained to the Earl when he returned to the carriage.  “You didn’t tell me to, but I thought perhaps you forgot.  That was right, wasn’t it?”

And the Earl laughed again, and did not say it was not.  In fact, the two were becoming more intimate every day, and every day Fauntleroy’s faith in his lordship’s benevolence and virtue increased.  He had no doubt whatever that his grandfather was the most amiable and generous of elderly gentlemen.  Certainly, he himself found his wishes gratified almost before they were uttered; and such gifts and pleasures were lavished upon him, that he was sometimes almost bewildered by his own possessions.  Apparently, he was to have everything he wanted, and to do everything he wished to do.  And though this would certainly not have been a very wise plan to pursue with all small boys, his young lordship bore it amazingly well.  Perhaps, notwithstanding his sweet nature, he might have been somewhat spoiled by it, if it had not been for the hours he spent with his mother at Court Lodge.  That “best friend” of his watched over him over closely and tenderly.  The two had many long talks together, and he never went back to the Castle with her kisses on his cheeks without carrying in his heart some simple, pure words worth remembering.

There was one thing, it is true, which puzzled the little fellow very much.  He thought over the mystery of it much oftener than any one supposed; even his mother did not know how often he pondered on it; the Earl for a long time never suspected that he did so at all.  But, being quick to observe, the little boy could not help wondering why it was that his mother and grandfather never seemed to meet.  He had noticed that they never did meet.  When the Dorincourt carriage stopped at Court Lodge, the Earl never alighted, and on the rare occasions of his lordship’s going to church, Fauntleroy was always