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 deny¬
ing 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. After so long a life of excitement and amuse¬
ment, it was not agreeable to sit alone even in the most splendid
room, with one foot on a gout-stool, and with no other diversion
than flying into a rage, and shouting at a frightened footman who
hated the sight of him. Whe old Earl was too clever a man not to
know perfectly well that his servants detested him, and that even if
he had visitors, they did not come for love of him—though some
found a sort of amusement in his sharp, sarcastic talk, which spared
no one. So long as he had been strong and well, he had gone from
one place tó another, pretending to amuse himself, though he had
not really enjoyed it; and when his health began to fail, he felt tired
of everything and shut himself up at Dorincourt, with his gout and
his newspapers and his books. But he could not read all the time,
and he became more and more “bored,” as he called it. He hated
the long nights and days, and he grew more and more savage and
irritable. And then Fauntleroy came; and when the Earl saw
him, fortunately for the little fellow, the secret pride of the grand¬
father was gratified at the outset. If Cedric had been a less hand¬