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- Фрэнсис Бёрнетт
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- Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой
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The
Earl
slightly
started
.
“
I
forgot
YOU
!
”
he
said
.
“
I
forgot
we
had
a
philanthropist
in
the
room
.
Who
was
Michael
?
”
And
the
gleam
of
queer
amusement
came
back
into
the
old
man
’
s
deep
-
set
eyes
.
“
He
was
Bridget
’
s
husband
,
who
had
the
fever
,
”
answered
Fauntleroy
;
“
and
he
couldn
’
t
pay
the
rent
or
buy
wine
and
things
.
And
you
gave
me
that
money
to
help
him
.
”
The
Earl
drew
his
brows
together
into
a
curious
frown
,
which
somehow
was
scarcely
grim
at
all
.
He
glanced
across
at
Mr
.
Mordaunt
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
sort
of
landed
proprietor
he
will
make
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
told
Havisham
the
boy
was
to
have
what
he
wanted
—
anything
he
wanted
—
and
what
he
wanted
,
it
seems
,
was
money
to
give
to
beggars
.
”
“
Oh
!
but
they
weren
’
t
beggars
,
”
said
Fauntleroy
eagerly
.
“
Michael
was
a
splendid
bricklayer
!
They
all
worked
.
”
“
Oh
!
”
said
the
Earl
,
“
they
were
not
beggars
.
They
were
splendid
bricklayers
,
and
bootblacks
,
and
apple
-
women
.
”
He
bent
his
gaze
on
the
boy
for
a
few
seconds
in
silence
.
The
fact
was
that
a
new
thought
was
coming
to
him
,
and
though
,
perhaps
,
it
was
not
prompted
by
the
noblest
emotions
,
it
was
not
a
bad
thought
.
“
Come
here
,
”
he
said
,
at
last
.
Fauntleroy
went
and
stood
as
near
to
him
as
possible
without
encroaching
on
the
gouty
foot
.
“
What
would
YOU
do
in
this
case
?
”
his
lordship
asked
.
