“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.]
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.
“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.
When 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.
“You have been doing some rather hard work,” said the Earl.