earest's house from her--and her carriage?" Cedric
asked in a rather unsteady, anxious little voice.

"NO!" said the Earl decidedly--in quite a loud voice, in fact. "They can
take nothing from her."

"Ah!" said Cedric, with evident relief. "Can't they?"

Then he looked up at his grandfather, and there was a wistful shade in
his eyes, and they looked very big and soft.

"That other boy," he said rather tremulously--"he will have to--to be
your boy now--as I was--won't he?"

"NO!" answered the Earl--and he said it so fiercely and loudly that
Cedric quite jumped.

"No?" he exclaimed, in wonderment. "Won't he? I thought----"

He stood up from his stool quite suddenly.

"Shall I be your boy, even if I'm not going to be an earl?" he said.
"Shall I be your boy, just as I was before?" And his flushed little face
was all alight with eagerness.

How the old Earl did look at him from head to foot, to be sure! How his
great shaggy brows did draw themselves together, and how queerly his
deep eyes shone under them--how very queerly!

"My boy!" he said--and, if you'll believe it, his very voice was queer,
almost shaky and a little broken and hoarse, not at all what you
would expect an Earl's voice to be, though he spoke more decidedly and
peremptorily even than before,--"Yes, you'll be my boy as long as I
live; and, by George, sometimes I feel as if you were the only boy I had
ever had."

Cedric's face turned red to the roots of his hair; it turned red with
relief and pleasure. He put both his hands deep into his pockets and
looked squarely into his noble relative's eyes.

"Do you?" he said. "Well, then, I don't care about the earl part at all.
I don't care whether I'm an earl or not. I thought--you see, I thought
the one that was going to be the Earl would have to be your boy, too,
and--and I couldn't be. That was what made me feel so queer."

The Earl put his hand on his shoulder and drew him nearer.

"They shall take nothing from you that I can hold for you," he said,
drawing his breath hard. "I won't believe yet that they can take
anything from you. You were made for the place, and--well, you may
fill it still. But whatever comes, you shall have all that I can give
you--all!"

It scarcely seemed as if he were speaking to a child, there was such
determination in his face and voice; it was more as if he were making a
promise to himself--and perhaps he was.

He had never before known how deep a hold upon him his f