Free Little Lord Fauntleroy by Frances Hodgson; Burnett Page A

again as the carriage rolled by her.
    â€œI like that woman,” he said. “She looks as if she liked boys. I should like to come here and play with her children. I wonder if she has enough to make up a company?”
    Mr. Havisham did not tell him that he would scarcely be allowed to make playmates of the gate-keeper’s children. The lawyer thought there was time enough for giving him that information.
    The carriage rolled on and on between the great beautiful trees which grew on each side of the avenue and stretched their broad swaying branches in an arch across it. Cedric had never seen such trees, they were so grand and stately, and their branches grew so low down on their huge trunks. He did not then know that Dorincourt Castle was one of the most beautiful in all England; that its park was one of the broadest and finest, and its trees and avenue almost without rivals. But he did know that it was all very beautiful. He liked the big, broad-branched trees, with the late afternoon sunlight striking golden lances through them. He liked the perfect stillness which rested on everything. He felt a great, strange pleasure in the beauty of which he caught glimpses under and between the sweeping boughs—the great, beautiful spaces of the park, with still other trees, standing sometimes stately and alone, and sometimes in groups. Now and then they passed places where tall ferns grew in masses, and again and again the ground was azure with the bluebells swaying in the soft breeze. Several times he started up with a laugh of delight as a rabbit leaped up from under the greenery and scudded away with a twinkle of short white tail behind it. Once a covey of partridges rose with a sudden whir and flew away, and then he shouted and clapped his hands.
    â€œIt’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” he said to Mr. Havisham. “I never saw such a beautiful place. It’s prettier even than Central Park.”
    He was rather puzzled by the length of time they were on their way.
    â€œHow far is it,” he said at length, “from the gate to the front door?”
    â€œIt is between three and four miles,” answered the lawyer.
    â€œThat’s a long way for a person to live from his gate,” remarked his lordship.
    Every few moments he saw something new to wonder at and admire. When he caught sight of the deer, some couched in the grass, some standing with their pretty antlered heads turned with a half-startled air towards the avenue as the carriage wheels disturbed them, he was enchanted.
    â€œHas there been a circus,” he cried, “or do they live here always? Whose are they?”
    â€œThey live here,” Mr. Havisham told him. “They belong to the Earl, your grandfather.”
    It was not long after this that they saw the Castle. It rose up before them stately and beautiful and gray, the last rays of the sun casting dazzling lights on its many windows. It had turrets and battlements and towers; a great deal of ivy grew upon its walls; all the broad open space about it was laid out in terraces and lawns and beds of brilliant flowers.
    â€œIt’s the most beautiful place I ever saw!” said Cedric, his round face flushing with pleasure. “It reminds anyone of a king’s palace. I saw a picture of one once in a fairy-book.”
    He saw the great entrance door thrown open and many servants standing in two lines looking at him. He wondered why they were standing there, and admired their liveries very much. He did not know that they were there to do honor to the little boy to whom all this splendor would one day belong—the beautiful Castle like the fairy king’s palace, the magnificent park, the grand old trees, the dells full of ferns and bluebells where the hares and rabbits played, the dappled, large-eyed deer couching in the deep grass. It was only a couple of weeks since he had sat with Mr. Hobbs among the potatoes and canned peaches, with his legs