come down to see ye off. Trade's
been prime! I bought this for ye out o' what I made yesterday. Ye kin
wear it when ye get among the swells. I lost the paper when I was tryin'
to get through them fellers downstairs. They didn't want to let me up.
It's a hankercher."

He poured it all forth as if in one sentence. A bell rang, and he made a
leap away before Cedric had time to speak.

"Good-bye!" he panted. "Wear it when ye get among the swells." And he
darted off and was gone.

A few seconds later they saw him struggle through the crowd on the lower
deck, and rush on shore just before the gang-plank was drawn in. He
stood on the wharf and waved his cap.

Cedric held the handkerchief in his hand. It was of bright red silk
ornamented with purple horseshoes and horses' heads.

There was a great straining and creaking and confusion. The people on
the wharf began to shout to their friends, and the people on the steamer
shouted back:

"Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye, old fellow!" Every one seemed to be
saying, "Don't forget us. Write when you get to Liverpool. Good-bye!
Good-bye!"

Little Lord Fauntleroy leaned forward and waved the red handkerchief.

"Good-bye, Dick!" he shouted, lustily. "Thank you! Good-bye, Dick!"

And the big steamer moved away, and the people cheered again, and
Cedric's mother drew the veil over her eyes, and on the shore there was
left great confusion; but Dick saw nothing save that bright, childish
face and the bright hair that the sun shone on and the breeze lifted,
and he heard nothing but the hearty childish voice calling "Good-bye,
Dick!" as little Lord Fauntleroy steamed slowly away from the home of
his birth to the unknown land of his ancestors.

IV

It was during the voyage that Cedric's mother told him that his home was
not to be hers; and when he first understood it, his grief was so
great that Mr. Havisham saw that the Earl had been wise in making the
arrangements that his mother should be quite near him, and see him
often; for it was very plain he could not have borne the separation
otherwise. But his mother managed the little fellow so sweetly and
lovingly, and made him feel that she would be so near him, that, after a
while, he ceased to be oppressed by the fear of any real parting.

"My house is not far from the Castle, Ceddie," she repeated each time
the subject was referred to--"a very little way from yours, and you can
always run in and see me every day, and you will