Chapter Chapter 15 · 第15章

Ben took his boy and went back to his cattle ranch in California, and

he returned under very comfortable circumstances. Just before his going,

Mr. Havisham had an interview with him in which the lawyer told him that

the Earl of Dorincourt wished to do something for the boy who might have

turned out to be Lord Fauntleroy, and so he had decided that it would

be a good plan to invest in a cattle ranch of his own, and put Ben in

charge of it on terms which would make it pay him very well, and which

would lay a foundation for his son's future. And so when Ben went away,

he went as the prospective master of a ranch which would be almost as

good as his own, and might easily become his own in time, as indeed it

did in the course of a few years; and Tom, the boy, grew up on it into

a fine young man and was devotedly fond of his father; and they were so

successful and happy that Ben used to say that Tom made up to him for

all the troubles he had ever had.

But Dick and Mr. Hobbs--who had actually come over with the others to

see that things were properly looked after--did not return for some

time. It had been decided at the outset that the Earl would provide for

Dick, and would see that he received a solid education; and Mr. Hobbs

had decided that as he himself had left a reliable substitute in charge

of his store, he could afford to wait to see the festivities which were

to celebrate Lord Fauntleroy's eighth birthday. All the tenantry were

invited, and there were to be feasting and dancing and games in the

park, and bonfires and fire-works in the evening.

“Just like the Fourth of July!” said Lord Fauntleroy. “It seems a pity

my birthday wasn't on the Fourth, doesn't it? For then we could keep

them both together.”

It must be confessed that at first the Earl and Mr. Hobbs were not as

intimate as it might have been hoped they would become, in the interests

of the British aristocracy. The fact was that the Earl had known very

few grocery-men, and Mr. Hobbs had not had many very close acquaintances

who were earls; and so in their rare interviews conversation did

not flourish. It must also be owned that Mr. Hobbs had been rather

overwhelmed by the splendors Fauntleroy felt it his duty to show him.

The entrance gate and the stone lions and the avenue impressed Mr.

Hobbs somewhat at the beginning, and when he saw the Castle, and the

flower-gardens, and the hot-houses, and the terraces, and the peacocks,

and the dungeon, and the armor, and the great staircase, and the

stables, and the liveried servants, he really was quite bewildered. But

it was the picture gallery which seemed to be the finishing stroke.

“Somethin' in the manner of a museum?” he said to Fauntleroy, when he

was led into the great, beautiful room.

“N--no--!” said Fauntleroy, rather doubtfully. “I don't THINK it's a

museum. My grandfather says these are my ancestors.”

“Your aunt's sisters!” ejaculated Mr. Hobbs. “ALL of 'em? Your

great-uncle, he MUST have had a family! Did he raise 'em all?”

And he sank into a seat and looked around him with quite an agitated

countenance, until with the greatest difficulty Lord Fauntleroy managed

to explain that the walls were not lined entirely with the portraits of

the progeny of his great-uncle.

He found it necessary, in fact, to call in the assistance of Mrs.

Mellon, who knew all about the pictures, and could tell who painted them

and when, and who added romantic stories of the lords and ladies who

were the originals. When Mr. Hobbs once understood, and had heard some

of these stories, he was very much fascinated and liked the picture

gallery almost better than anything else; and he would often walk over

from the village, where he staid at the Dorincourt Arms, and would spend

half an hour or so wandering about the gallery, staring at the painted

ladies and gentlemen, who also stared at him, and shaking his head

nearly all the time.

“And they was all earls!” he would say, “er pretty nigh it! An' HE'S

goin' to be one of 'em, an' own it all!”

Privately he was not nearly so much disgusted with earls and their mode

of life as he had expected to be, and it is to be doubted whether his

strictly republican principles were not shaken a little by a closer

acquaintance with castles and ancestors and all the rest of it. At any

rate, one day he uttered a very remarkable and unexpected sentiment:

“I wouldn't have minded bein' one of 'em myself!” he said--which was

really a great concession.

What a grand day it was when little Lord Fauntleroy's birthday arrived,

and how his young lordship enjoyed it! How beautiful the park looked,

filled with the thronging people dressed in their gayest and best, and

with the flags flying from the tents and the top of the Castle! Nobody

had staid away who could possibly come, because everybody was really

glad that little Lord Fauntleroy was to be little Lord Fauntleroy still,

and some day was to be the master of everything. Every one wanted to

have a look at him, and at his pretty, kind mother, who had made so many

friends. And positively every one liked the Earl rather better, and felt

more amiably toward him because the little boy loved and trusted him so,

and because, also, he had now made friends with and behaved respectfully

to his heir's mother. It was said that he was even beginning to be

fond of her, too, and that between his young lordship and his young

lordship's mother, the Earl might be changed in time into quite a

well-behaved old nobleman, and everybody might be happier and better

off.

What scores and scores of people there were under the trees, and in

the tents, and on the lawns! Farmers and farmers' wives in their Sunday

suits and bonnets and shawls; girls and their sweethearts; children

frolicking and chasing about; and old dames in red cloaks gossiping

together. At the Castle, there were ladies and gentlemen who had come to

see the fun, and to congratulate the Earl, and to meet Mrs. Errol.

Lady Lorredaile and Sir Harry were there, and Sir Thomas Asshe and his

daughters, and Mr. Havisham, of course, and then beautiful Miss Vivian

Herbert, with the loveliest white gown and lace parasol, and a circle

of gentlemen to take care of her--though she evidently liked Fauntleroy

better than all of them put together. And when he saw her and ran to her

and put his arm around her neck, she put her arms around him, too, and

kissed him as warmly as if he had been her own favorite little brother,

and she said:

“Dear little Lord Fauntleroy! dear little boy! I am so glad! I am so

glad!”

And afterward she walked about the grounds with him, and let him show

her everything. And when he took her to where Mr. Hobbs and Dick were,

and said to her, “This is my old, old friend Mr. Hobbs, Miss Herbert,

and this is my other old friend Dick. I told them how pretty you were,

and I told them they should see you if you came to my birthday,”--she

shook hands with them both, and stood and talked to them in her

prettiest way, asking them about America and their voyage and their life

since they had been in England; while Fauntleroy stood by, looking up at

her with adoring eyes, and his cheeks quite flushed with delight because

he saw that Mr. Hobbs and Dick liked her so much.

“Well,” said Dick solemnly, afterward, “she's the daisiest gal I

ever saw! She's--well, she's just a daisy, that's what she is, 'n' no

mistake!”

Everybody looked after her as she passed, and every one looked after

little Lord Fauntleroy. And the sun shone and the flags fluttered and

the games were played and the dances danced, and as the gayeties went

on and the joyous afternoon passed, his little lordship was simply

radiantly happy.

The whole world seemed beautiful to him.

There was some one else who was happy, too,--an old man, who, though he

had been rich and noble all his life, had not often been very honestly

happy. Perhaps, indeed, I shall tell you that I think it was because he

was rather better than he had been that he was rather happier. He had

not, indeed, suddenly become as good as Fauntleroy thought him; but, at

least, he had begun to love something, and he had several times found

a sort of pleasure in doing the kind things which the innocent, kind

little heart of a child had suggested,--and that was a beginning. And

every day he had been more pleased with his son's wife. It was true, as

the people said, that he was beginning to like her too. He liked to

hear her sweet voice and to see her sweet face; and as he sat in his

arm-chair, he used to watch her and listen as she talked to her boy; and

he heard loving, gentle words which were new to him, and he began to see

why the little fellow who had lived in a New York side street and known

grocery-men and made friends with boot-blacks, was still so well-bred

and manly a little fellow that he made no one ashamed of him, even when

fortune changed him into the heir to an English earldom, living in an

English castle.

It was really a very simple thing, after all,--it was only that he had

lived near a kind and gentle heart, and had been taught to think kind

thoughts always and to care for others. It is a very little thing,

perhaps, but it is the best thing of all. He knew nothing of earls and

castles; he was quite ignorant of all grand and splendid things; but he

was always lovable because he was simple and loving. To be so is like

being born a king.

As the old Earl of Dorincourt looked at him that day, moving about the

park among the people, talking to those he knew and making his ready

little bow when any one greeted him, entertaining his friends Dick and

Mr. Hobbs, or standing near his mother or Miss Herbert listening to

their conversation, the old nobleman was very well satisfied with him.

And he had never been better satisfied than he was when they went down

to the biggest tent, where the more important tenants of the Dorincourt

estate were sitting down to the grand collation of the day.

They were drinking toasts; and, after they had drunk the health of the

Earl, with much more enthusiasm than his name had ever been greeted with

before, they proposed the health of “Little Lord Fauntleroy.” And if

there had ever been any doubt at all as to whether his lordship was

popular or not, it would have been settled that instant. Such a clamor of

voices, and such a rattle of glasses and applause! They had begun to

like him so much, those warm-hearted people, that they forgot to feel

any restraint before the ladies and gentlemen from the castle, who

had come to see them. They made quite a decent uproar, and one or two

motherly women looked tenderly at the little fellow where he stood, with

his mother on one side and the Earl on the other, and grew quite moist

about the eyes, and said to one another:

“God bless him, the pretty little dear!”

Little Lord Fauntleroy was delighted. He stood and smiled, and made

bows, and flushed rosy red with pleasure up to the roots of his bright

hair.

“Is it because they like me, Dearest?” he said to his mother. “Is it,

Dearest? I'm so glad!”

And then the Earl put his hand on the child's shoulder and said to him:

“Fauntleroy, say to them that you thank them for their kindness.”

Fauntleroy gave a glance up at him and then at his mother.

“Must I?” he asked just a trifle shyly, and she smiled, and so did Miss

Herbert, and they both nodded. And so he made a little step forward,

and everybody looked at him--such a beautiful, innocent little fellow he

was, too, with his brave, trustful face!--and he spoke as loudly as he

could, his childish voice ringing out quite clear and strong.

“I'm ever so much obliged to you!” he said, “and--I hope you'll enjoy my

birthday--because I've enjoyed it so much--and--I'm very glad I'm going

to be an earl; I didn't think at first I should like it, but now I

do--and I love this place so, and I think it is beautiful--and--and--and

when I am an earl, I am going to try to be as good as my grandfather.”

And amid the shouts and clamor of applause, he stepped back with a

little sigh of relief, and put his hand into the Earl's and stood close

to him, smiling and leaning against his side.

And that would be the very end of my story; but I must add one curious

piece of information, which is that Mr. Hobbs became so fascinated

with high life and was so reluctant to leave his young friend that he

actually sold his corner store in New York, and settled in the English

village of Erlesboro, where he opened a shop which was patronized by the

Castle and consequently was a great success. And though he and the

Earl never became very intimate, if you will believe me, that man Hobbs

became in time more aristocratic than his lordship himself, and he read

the Court news every morning, and followed all the doings of the House

of Lords! And about ten years after, when Dick, who had finished his

education and was going to visit his brother in California, asked the

good grocer if he did not wish to return to America, he shook his head

seriously.

“Not to live there,” he said. “Not to live there; I want to be near HIM,

an' sort o' look after him. It's a good enough country for them that's

young an' stirrin'--but there's faults in it. There's not an auntsister

among 'em--nor an earl!”