have nothing that is NOT his by right, even if the law can give
it to him," she said.

"Unfortunately the law can not," said the Earl. "If it could, it should.
This outrageous woman and her child----"

"Perhaps she cares for him as much as I care for Cedric, my lord," said
little Mrs. Errol. "And if she was your eldest son's wife, her son is
Lord Fauntleroy, and mine is not."

She was no more afraid of him than Cedric had been, and she looked at
him just as Cedric would have looked, and he, having been an old tyrant
all his life, was privately pleased by it. People so seldom dared to
differ from him that there was an entertaining novelty in it.

"I suppose," he said, scowling slightly, "that you would much prefer
that he should not be the Earl of Dorincourt."

Her fair young face flushed.

"It is a very magnificent thing to be the Earl of Dorincourt, my lord,"
she said. "I know that, but I care most that he should be what his
father was--brave and just and true always."

"In striking contrast to what his grandfather was, eh?" said his
lordship sardonically.

"I have not had the pleasure of knowing his grandfather," replied Mrs.
Errol, "but I know my little boy believes----" She stopped short a
moment, looking quietly into his face, and then she added, "I know that
Cedric loves you."

"Would he have loved me," said the Earl dryly, "if you had told him why
I did not receive you at the Castle?"

"No," answered Mrs. Errol, "I think not. That was why I did not wish him
to know."

"Well," said my lord brusquely, "there are few women who would not have
told him."

He suddenly began to walk up and down the room, pulling his great
mustache more violently than ever.

"Yes, he is fond of me," he said, "and I am fond of him. I can't say I
ever was fond of anything before. I am fond of him. He pleased me from
the first. I am an old man, and was tired of my life. He has given me
something to live for. I am proud of him. I was satisfied to think of
his taking his place some day as the head of the family."

He came back and stood before Mrs. Errol.

"I am miserable," he said. "Miserable!"

He looked as if he was. Even his pride could not keep his voice steady
or his hands from shaking. For a moment it almost seemed as if his deep,
fierce eyes had tears in them. "Perhaps it is because I am miserable
that I have come to you," he said, quite glaring down at her. "I used
to hate you; I have been jealous of you. This wr