“You see, Higgins,” [broke in] the Earl with a fine grim smile; “you people have been mistaken in me. Lord Fauntleroy understands me. Get into the carriage, Fauntleroy.”
And Fauntleroy jumped in, and the carriage rolled away down the green lane, and even when it turned the corner into the high road, the Earl was still grimly smiling.
CHAPTER VIII.
LEARNING TO RIDE.
Lord Dorincourt had occasion to wear his grim smile many a time as the days passed by. Indeed, as his acquaintance with his grandson progressed, he wore the smile so often that there were moments when it almost lost its grimness. There is no denying that before Lord Fauntleroy had appeared on the scene, the old man had been growing very tired of his loneliness and his gout and his seventy years, but when he saw the lad, fortunately for the little fellow, the secret pride of the grandfather was gratified at the outset. And then when he heard the lad talk, and saw what a well-bred little fellow he was, notwithstanding his boyish ignorance of all that his new position meant, the old Earl liked his grandson more, and actually began to find himself rather entertained. It had amused him to give into those childish hands the power to bestow a benefit on poor Higgins. Then it had gratified him to drive to church with Cedric and to see the excitement and interest caused by the arrival. My lord of Dorincourt was an arrogant old man, proud of his name, proud of his rank, and therefore proud to show the world that at last the House of Dorincourt had an heir who was worthy of the position he was to fill.
The morning the new pony had been tried the Earl had been so pleased that he had almost forgotten his gout. When the groom had brought out the pretty creature, which [arched] its brown glossy neck and tossed its fine head in the sun, the Earl had sat at the open window of the library and had looked on while Fauntleroy took his first riding lesson. He wondered if the boy would show signs of timidity.
Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony before, and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom, led the animal by the bridle up and down before the library window.
After a few minutes Fauntleroy spoke to his grandfather—watching him from the window.
“Can’t I go myself?” he asked; “and can’t I go faster?”
His lordship made a sign to Wilkins, who at the signal brought up his own horse and mounted it and took Fauntleroy’s pony by the [leading-rein.]
“Now,” said the Earl, “let him trot.”