“Well,” said the Earl, “you may try.”

Cedric gave him his stick and began to assist him to rise.  Usually, the footman did this, and was violently sworn at when his lordship had an extra twinge of gout.  The Earl was not a very polite person as a rule, and many a time the huge footmen about him quaked inside their imposing liveries.

But this evening he did not swear, though his gouty foot gave him more twinges than one.  He chose to try an experiment.  He got up slowly and put his hand on the small shoulder presented to him with so much courage.  Little Lord Fauntleroy made a careful step forward, looking down at the gouty foot.

“Just lean on me,” he said, with encouraging good cheer.  “I’ll walk very slowly.”

If the Earl had been supported by the footman he would have rested less on his stick and more on his assistant’s arm.  And yet it was part of his experiment to let his grandson feel his burden as no light weight.  It was quite a heavy weight indeed, and after a few steps his young lordship’s face grew quite hot, and his heart beat rather fast, but he braced himself sturdily, remembering his muscle and Dick’s approval of it.

“Don’t be afraid of leaning on me,” he panted.  “I’m all right—­if—­if it isn’t a very long way.”

It was not really very far to the dining-room, but it seemed rather a long way to Cedric, before they reached the chair at the head of the table.  The hand on his shoulder seemed to grow heavier at every step, and his face grew redder and hotter, and his breath shorter, but he never thought of giving up; he stiffened his childish muscles, held his head erect, and encouraged the Earl as he limped along.

“Does your foot hurt you very much when you stand on it?” he asked.  “Did you ever put it in hot water and mustard?  Mr. Hobbs used to put his in hot water.  Arnica is a very nice thing, they tell me.”

The big dog stalked slowly beside them, and the big footman followed; several times he looked very queer as he watched the little figure making the very most of all its strength, and bearing its burden with such good-will.  The Earl, too, looked rather queer, once, as he glanced sidewise down at the flushed little face.  When they entered the room where they were to dine, Cedric saw it was a very large and imposing one, and that the footman who stood behind the chair at the head of the table stared very hard as they came in.

But they reached the chair at last.  The hand was removed from his shoulder, and the Earl was fairly seated.

Cedric took out Dick’s handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

“It’s a warm night, isn’t it?” he said.  “Perhaps you need a fire because—­because of your foot, but it seems just a little warm to me.”

His delicate consideration for his noble relative’s feelings was such that he did not wish to seem to intimate that any of his surroundings were unnecessary.