Little Lord Fauntleroy Page #7

I know without you're saying.

Your whole day early

for the party, Mr. Havisham.

But better early

than not at all, I always say.

Unfortunately,

I shall have to miss the party.

I must return to London.

I won't detain you any

longer, Havisham.

I wish you every success.

It will be our success, my Lord.

Lord Fauntleroy.

No stone left unturned, Havisham.

Not the smallest pebble, my Lord.

Mr. Havisham's your best friend,

isn't he, grandpa?

Mr Hobbs always says:

"When push comes to shove,

"here's nothing like having

a true blue friend in your court."

Welcome, Your Ladyship... Sir Harry.

You never thought you'd

see me come through

these doors again, did you, Dawson?

You haven't changed.

Nor have you, my lady.

Fiddlesticks! I'm like a mummy!

Where is my brother?

Waiting for you in the library, my lady.

- And the boy?

- As soon as you get here.

I'm to bring him to you in the library

as soon as you arrive, my lady.

Harry fears the lion in his den.

Please.

- Constancia.

- Molyneux.

Harry.

You look well, Constancia.

And you look better

than when I last saw you.

I was surprised to get your invitation.

But so very pleased.

I regret our estrangement.

It was a foolish quarrel

over an inconsequential matter.

For the life of me, I can't recall

the reason for our fracas.

Of no consequence.

Fables... Now tell me about the boy.

He's all Dorincourt!

And I challenge anyone to dispute it.

You're fond of him?

He's a fine boy.

Cedric! Come here!

I am your great Aunt Constancia.

I adored your father.

And you're so like him.

This is your great Uncle Harry.

Pleased to meet you, Uncle Harry.

Well, Cedric. Are you happy here?

It took a little while for me

and grandpa to get acquainted.

But we are fine friends now.

We are indeed.

You'll be amplifying the conversation

after your lessons.

I'm learning how to talk French.

It's pretty tricky.

Run along now.

You actually dote on the boy,

you old curmudgeon.

Nonsense.

Most children are idiots or bores.

It so happens that Cedric is neither.

Surely, his mother deserves

some credit for that.

I prefer not to discuss it.

Oh? I understand your tenants adore her.

It's the boy who's won their affection.

But I have to admit his mother

has brought him up well.

I should like to visit

Cedric's mother this afternoon.

That is entirely up to you to design.

What is it, Dawson?

I thought Lady Lorradaile

and Sir Harry might prefer

tea in their rooms

after their long journey.

Tea and some of those

delicious cucumber and

crest sandwiches for

which you are famous.

After 20 years, our first meeting

deserves a kiss.

There.

I share your happiness, Molyneux.

Cedric is an enchanting child.

Come, Harry.

- No!

- My Lord?

Cedric is the rightful heir!

I'll accept no other.

I wish you to know

that I entirely disapprove

of my brother's treatment of you.

I accept it for Ceddie's sake, ma'am.

And his father's.

I made scones.

I never understand what

folks here see in them.

But I baked a butter cake too.

And it'll be out of the oven

in two shakes.

And you'll come

and join us when it's ready now?

Right.

No English server would comport

themselves in that fashion.

But Mary isn't a servant.

She is my friend and companion.

As dear to Ceddie as she is to me.

I see.

I like you, Mrs. Errol.

Would you come and spend Christmas

with us at Lorradaile Castle?

That's very kind of you.

I promised Ceddie

I would always be nearby.

I understand.

My mother's sons Maurice

and Bevis were

bitter disappointments to him.

Wastrels enriching.

Your Cedric, your husband,

whom he loved.

Cedric disappointed him too.

By marrying me.

My brother would be not be

so prejudiced if he knew you.

I doubt that will ever happen!

Oh.

Won't Ceddie look dear in this?

He won't be test wearing it.

His mother's not attending.

My grandson, Lord Fauntleroy.

Lady Grace.

You're beautiful enough

to be a princess.

You make the most of your time,

Fauntleroy.

You'll not dare be so foolish

when you're older.

I think Lord Fauntleroy

will always say what he thinks.

So you think I'm beautiful?

Beautifuler than anyone.

Except my mama, of course.

No one should be more beautiful

to a boy than his mother.

Excuse us. Come, Cedric.

You must be introduced

to the other guests.

Freddy, my grandson. Lord Fauntleroy.

Lord Ashbey Delefante.

I knew your father, my boy.

Great Huntsman.

Ride the hounds, my boy?

I only ride to a promontory.

And sometimes the village.

You are a love.

What's that in your pocket, Ceddie?

Oh. It's a gift from Dick the bootblack.

He said I was to wear it when

I'm with all the swells.

So I guess now is the right time.

Molyneux, how do you like

being called a swell?

I daresay have been called worse.

Especially by me.

But you are a bit of a tyrant

when we were

both growing up

in this monstrous old house.

Well, Ceddie.

Are you enjoying the party?

Well. It's not very lively.

I guess is because the music

is not very likely.

Right. It's no more lively

than Westminster Abby.

Will you do something about it?

Constancia!

Fiddlesticks! Come, Ceddie.

Lord Fauntleroy has a request.

Tell them what you'd like them

to play, Ceddie.

"Oh, Dem Golden Slippers."

It goes like this.

They played at the Starlight Bar

on Hester Street.

Me and the boys used to

wait in the alley and

watch the dancing girls

when the door opened.

It was sure a sight!

Sing it to them.

Then perhaps our esteemed musicians

can pick up the tune.

All right.

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Golden slippers I'm gonna wear,

because dey look so neat.

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Golden slippers I'm gonna wear,

To walk de golden street.

- Shall we?

- Why not!

- May I?

- You may.

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, dem golden slippers!

Oh, so, Molyneux!

The House of Dorincourt has finally

got an heir worthy of the title.

Something's troubling you, Molyneux?

What is it?

You'll hear it soon enough.

Faster! Faster!

Dammit, this isn't a funeral.

It may well be.

My Lord.

The worst possible news.

I've never known bad news

to improve with keeping.

Bevis did marry the woman

eight years ago.

She has the marriage certificate.

And it has been verified.

Much as it pains me, my Lord.

I believe her son is

the rightful heir to the title.

Bevis brought me nothing

but unhappiness in life.

And now in death as well.

There's no question about it?

Sir, the ceremony was performed

at White Chapel.

And duly registered.

Why has the woman waited

till now to make her claim?

She told me that only

recently she understood

her son could lay claim to the title.

If anyone had told me-

that I could care for a

child as I care for Cedric,

I would not have believed it.

I'm not well likedhere.

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