“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!”