“I was detained,” he said, in a low voice to the Earl, “by—­an extraordinary event.”

It was as unlike the methodic old lawyer to be agitated by anything as it was to be late, but it was evident that he had been disturbed.  At dinner he ate scarcely anything, and two or three times, when he was spoken to, he started as if his thoughts were far away.  At dessert, when Fauntleroy came in, he looked at him more than once, nervously and uneasily.  Fauntleroy noted the look and wondered at it.  He and Mr. Havisham were on friendly terms, and they usually exchanged smiles.  The lawyer seemed to have forgotten to smile that evening.

The fact was, he forgot everything but the strange and painful news he knew he must tell the Earl before the night was over—­the strange news which he knew would be so terrible a shock, and which would change the face of everything.  As he looked about at the splendid rooms and the brilliant company,—­at the people gathered together, he knew, more that they might see the bright-haired little fellow near the Earl’s chair than for any other reason,—­as he looked at the proud old man and at little Lord Fauntleroy smiling at his side, he really felt quite shaken, notwithstanding that he was a hardened old lawyer.  What a blow it was that he must deal them!

He did not exactly know how the long, superb dinner ended.  He sat through it as if he were in a dream, and several times he saw the Earl glance at him in surprise.

But it was over at last, and the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing-room.  They found Fauntleroy sitting on the sofa with Miss Vivian Herbert,—­the great beauty of the last London season; they had been looking at some pictures, and he was thanking his companion as the door opened.

“I’m ever so much obliged to you for being so kind to me!” he was saying; “I never was at a party before, and I’ve enjoyed myself so much!”

He had enjoyed himself so much that when the gentlemen gathered about Miss Herbert again and began to talk to her, as he listened and tried to understand their laughing speeches, his eyelids began to droop.  They drooped until they covered his eyes two or three times, and then the sound of Miss Herbert’s low, pretty laugh would bring him back, and he would open them again for about two seconds.  He was quite sure he was not going to sleep, but there was a large, yellow satin cushion behind him and his head sank against it, and after a while his eyelids drooped for the last time.  They did not even quite open when, as it seemed a long time after, some one kissed him lightly on the cheek.  It was Miss Vivian Herbert, who was going away, and she spoke to him softly.

“Good-night, little Lord Fauntleroy,” she said.  “Sleep well.”

And in the morning he did not know that he had tried to open his eyes and had murmured sleepily, “Good-night—­I’m so—­glad—­I saw you—­you are so—­pretty——­”

He only had a very faint recollection of hearing the gentlemen laugh again and of wondering why they did it.