There was a chair near him, and he sat down on it; it was a high-backed, rather tall chair, and his feet did not touch the floor when he had settled himself in it, but he seemed to be quite comfortable as he sat there and regarded his august relative intently and modestly.
“Any boy would love his grandfather,” continued he, “especially one that had been as kind to him as you have been.”
Another queer gleam came into the old nobleman’s eyes.
“Oh!” he said, “I have been kind to you, have I?”
“Yes,” answered Lord Fauntleroy brightly; “I’m [ever so much] obliged to you about Bridget, and the apple-woman, and Dick!”
“Bridget!” exclaimed the Earl. “Dick! The apple-woman!”
“Yes,” explained Cedric; “the ones you gave me all that money for—the money you told Mr. Havisham to give me if I wanted it.”
“Ha!” ejaculated his lordship. “That’s it, is it? The money you were to spend as you liked. What did you buy with it? I should like to hear something about that.”
He drew his shaggy eyebrows together and looked at the child sharply. He was secretly curious to know in what way the lad had indulged himself.
“Oh!” said Lord Fauntleroy, “perhaps you didn’t know about Dick, and the apple-woman and Bridget. I forgot you lived such a long way off from them. They were particular friends of mine. And you see Michael had the fever——”