"The Earl of Dorincourt----" he began, and then he glanced involuntarily
at Mrs. Errol.

Little Lord Fauntleroy's mother suddenly kneeled down by him and put
both her tender arms around his childish body.

"Ceddie," she said, "the Earl is your grandpapa, your own papa's father.
He is very, very kind, and he loves you and wishes you to love him,
because the sons who were his little boys are dead. He wishes you to be
happy and to make other people happy. He is very rich, and he wishes you
to have everything you would like to have. He told Mr. Havisham so, and
gave him a great deal of money for you. You can give some to Bridget
now; enough to pay her rent and buy Michael everything. Isn't that fine,
Ceddie? Isn't he good?" And she kissed the child on his round cheek,
where the bright color suddenly flashed up in his excited amazement.

He looked from his mother to Mr. Havisham.

"Can I have it now?" he cried. "Can I give it to her this minute? She's
just going."

Mr. Havisham handed him the money. It was in fresh, clean greenbacks and
made a neat roll.

Ceddie flew out of the room with it.

"Bridget!" they heard him shout, as he tore into the kitchen. "Bridget,
wait a minute! Here's some money. It's for you, and you can pay the
rent. My grandpapa gave it to me. It's for you and Michael!"