Mrs. Errol had been called out of the parlor, and the lawyer and Cedric
were left together. At first Mr. Havisham wondered what he should say to
his small companion. He had an idea that perhaps it would be best to say
several things which might prepare Cedric for meeting his grandfather,
and, perhaps, for the great change that was to come to him. He could see
that Cedric had not the least idea of the sort of thing he was to see
when he reached England, or of the sort of home that waited for him
there. He did not even know yet that his mother was not to live in the
same house with him. They had thought it best to let him get over the
first shock before telling him.

Mr. Havisham sat in an arm-chair on one side of the open window; on the
other side was another still larger chair, and Cedric sat in that and
looked at Mr. Havisham. He sat well back in the depths of his big seat,
his curly head against the cushioned back, his legs crossed, and his
hands thrust deep into his pockets, in a quite Mr. Hobbs-like way. He
had been watching Mr. Havisham very steadily when his mamma had been in
the room, and after she was gone he still looked at him in respectful
thoughtfulness. There was a short silence after Mrs. Errol went out,
and Cedric seemed to be studying Mr. Havisham, and Mr. Havisham was
certainly studying Cedric. He could not make up his mind as to what an
elderly gentleman should say to a little boy who won races, and wore
short knickerbockers and red stockings on legs which were not long
enough to hang over a big chair when he sat well back in it.

But Cedric relieved him by suddenly beginning the conversation himself.

"Do you know," he said, "I don't know what an earl is?"