"Well, good-bye," he said; and though he tried to speak steadily, there
was a little tremble in his voice and he winked his big brown eyes.
"And I hope trade'll be good. I'm sorry I'm going away to leave you, but
perhaps I shall come back again when I'm an earl. And I wish you'd write
to me, because we were always good friends. And if you write to me,
here's where you must send your letter." And he gave him a slip of
paper. "And my name isn't Cedric Errol any more; it's Lord Fauntleroy
and--and good-bye, Dick."

Dick winked his eyes also, and yet they looked rather moist about the
lashes. He was not an educated boot-black, and he would have found it
difficult to tell what he felt just then if he had tried; perhaps that
was why he didn't try, and only winked his eyes and swallowed a lump in
his throat.

"I wish ye wasn't goin' away," he said in a husky voice. Then he winked
his eyes again. Then he looked at Mr. Havisham, and touched his cap.
"Thanky, sir, fur bringin' him down here an' fur wot ye've done,
He's--he's a queer little feller," he added. "I've allers thort a heap
of him. He's such a game little feller, an'--an' such a queer little
un."

And when they turned away he stood and looked after them in a dazed
kind of way, and there was still a mist in his eyes, and a lump in his
throat, as he watched the gallant little figure marching gayly along by
the side of its tall, rigid escort.

Until the day of his departure, his lordship spent as much time as
possible with Mr. Hobbs in the store. Gloom had settled upon Mr. Hobbs;