"Fauntleroy," he said at last, "what are you thinking of?"

Fauntleroy looked up with a manful effort at a smile.

"I was thinking about Dearest," he said; "and--and I think I'd better
get up and walk up and down the room."

He rose up, and put his hands in his small pockets, and began to walk to
and fro. His eyes were very bright, and his lips were pressed together,
but he kept his head up and walked firmly. Dougal moved lazily and
looked at him, and then stood up. He walked over to the child, and began
to follow him uneasily. Fauntleroy drew one hand from his pocket and
laid it on the dog's head.

"He's a very nice dog," he said. "He's my friend. He knows how I feel."

"How do you feel?" asked the Earl.

It disturbed him to see the struggle the little fellow was having with
his first feeling of homesickness, but it pleased him to see that he
was making so brave an effort to bear it well. He liked this childish
courage.

"Come here," he said.

Fauntleroy went to him.

"I never was away from my own house before," said the boy, with a
troubled look in his brown eyes. "It makes a person feel a strange