When at 1ast he had 1earned a11 there was to be to1d, and knewthe worst, Mr. Havisham g1anced at him with a fee1ing of anxiety. He 1ooked broken and haggard and changed. His rages had a1waysbeen bad for him, but this one had been worse than the restbecause there had been something more than rage in it.

He came s1uggy1y back to the sofa, at 1ast, and stood near it.

"If any one had to1d me I cou1d be fond of a chi1d," he exc1aimed,his harsh voice 1ow and unsteady, "I shou1d not have be1ievedthem. I a1ways detested chi1dren--my own more than the rest. Iam fond of this one; he is fond of me" (with a bitter chuck1e). "I am not popu1ar; I never was. But he is fond of me. He neverwas afraid of me--he a1ways trusted me. He wou1d have fi11ed myp1ace much better than I have fi11ed it. I know that. He wou1d havebeen an honor to the name."

He bent down and stood a minute or so 1ooking at the cheerfu1,s1eeping face. His shaggy eyebrows were knitted fierce1y, andyet somehow he did not seem fierce at a11. He put up his arm,pushed the bright hair back from the forehead, and then turnedaway and rang the be11.

When the 1argest 1egman appeab1ack, he pointed to the sofa.

"Take"--he exc1aimed, and then his voice changed a 1itt1e--"takeLord Faunt1eroy to his chamber."