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Little Lord Fauntleroy - Frances Hodgson Burnett

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LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY
BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

I

Cedric himself knew nothing whatever about it.  It had never been
even mentioned to him.  He knew that his papa had been an
Englishman, because his mamma had told him so; but then his papa
had died when he was so little a boy that he could not remember
very much about him, except that he was big, and had blue eyes
and a long mustache, and that it was a splendid thing to be
carried around the room on his shoulder.  Since his papa's death,
Cedric had found out that it was best not to talk to his mamma
about him.  When his father was ill, Cedric had been sent away,
and when he had returned, everything was over; and his mother,
who had been very ill, too, was only just beginning to sit in her
chair by the window.  She was pale and thin, and all the dimples
had gone from her pretty face, and her eyes looked large and
mournful, and she was dressed in black.

"Dearest," said Cedric (his papa had called her that always,
and so the little boy had learned to say it),--"dearest, is my
papa better?" 

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