"It's not exactly the way it is spelled in the dictionary," answered the Earl.
"I was afraid of that," said Fauntleroy. "I ought to have asked. You see, that's the way with words of more than one syllable; you have to look in the dictionary. It's always safest. I'll write it over again."
And write it over again he did, making quite an imposing copy, and taking precautions in the matter of spelling by consulting the Earl himself.
"Spelling is a curious thing," he said. "It's so often different from what you expect it to be. I used to think 'please' was spelled p-l-e-e-s, but it isn't, you know; and you'd think 'dear' was spelled d-e-r-e, if you didn't inquire. Sometimes it almost discourages you."
When Mr. Mordaunt went away, he took the letter with him, and he took something else with him also—namely, a pleasanter feeling and a more hopeful one than he had ever carried home with him down that avenue on any previous visit he had made at Dorincourt Castle.
When he was gone, Fauntleroy, who had accompanied him to the door, went back to his grandfather.
"May I go to Dearest now?" he asked. "I think she will be waiting for me."
The Earl was silent a moment.
"There is something in the stable for you to see first," he said. "Ring the bell."
"If you please," said Fauntleroy, with his quick little flush. "I'm very much obliged; but I think I'd better see it to-morrow. She will be expecting me all the time."
"Very well," answered the Earl. "We will order the carriage." Then he added dryly, "It's a pony."
