Mary had come with them to attend her mistress, and she had reached the house before them.  When Cedric jumped out of the carriage he saw one or two servants standing in the wide, bright hall, and Mary stood in the door-way.

Lord Fauntleroy sprang at her with a gay little shout.

“Did you get here, Mary?” he said.  “Here’s Mary, Dearest,” and he kissed the maid on her rough red cheek.

“I am glad you are here, Mary,” Mrs. Errol said to her in a low voice.  “It is such a comfort to me to see you.  It takes the strangeness away.”  And she held out her little hand, which Mary squeezed encouragingly.  She knew how this first “strangeness” must feel to this little mother who had left her own land and was about to give up her child.

The English servants looked with curiosity at both the boy and his mother.  They had heard all sorts of rumors about them both; they knew how angry the old Earl had been, and why Mrs. Errol was to live at the lodge and her little boy at the castle; they knew all about the great fortune he was to inherit, and about the savage old grandfather and his gout and his tempers.

“He’ll have no easy time of it, poor little chap,” they had said among themselves.

But they did not know what sort of a little lord had come among them; they did not quite understand the character of the next Earl of Dorincourt.

He pulled off his overcoat quite as if he were used to doing things for himself, and began to look about him.  He looked about the broad hall, at the pictures and stags’ antlers and curious things that ornamented it.  They seemed curious to him because he had never seen such things before in a private house.

“Dearest,” he said, “this is a very pretty house, isn’t it?  I am glad you are going to live here.  It’s quite a large house.”

It was quite a large house compared to the one in the shabby New York street, and it was very pretty and cheerful.  Mary led them upstairs to a bright chintz-hung bedroom where a fire was burning, and a large snow-white Persian cat was sleeping luxuriously on the white fur hearth-rug.

“It was the house-kaper up at the Castle, ma’am, sint her to yez,” explained Mary.  “It’s herself is a kind-hearted lady an’ has had iverything done to prepar’ fur yez.  I seen her meself a few minnits, an’ she was fond av the Capt’in, ma’am, an’ graivs fur him; and she said to say the big cat slapin’ on the rug moight make the room same homeloike to yez.  She knowed Capt’in Errol whin he was a bye—­an’ a foine handsum’ bye she ses he was, an’ a foine young man wid a plisint word fur every one, great an’ shmall.  An’ ses I to her, ses I:  ’He’s lift a bye that’s loike him, ma’am, fur a foiner little felly niver sthipped in shoe-leather."’