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?"

    He felt her arms tremble,
           and so
             he turned
                   his curly head and
                  looked in her face.

    There was something in it
         that made him feel
           that he
            was going to cry.

    "Dearest,"
          he said,
               "is he well?"

    Then suddenly
           his loving little heart
          told him
         that he'd better
               put both his arms
                   around her neck
                  and kiss her
                      again and again,
           and keep
               his soft cheek close
             to hers;
        and he did so,
           and she laid
               her face
                   on his shoulder and
                  cried bitterly,
         holding him
             as if
                 she could never let him
                      go again.

    "Yes,
           he is well,"
          she sobbed;
            "he is quite,
               quite well,
             but we
              --we have no one left
                 but each other.

    No one at all."

    Then,
           little as he was,
         he understood that his big,
           handsome young papa
            would not come
             back any more;
        that he was dead,
           as he
            had heard of
                   other people being,
         although he
            could not comprehend exactly
             what strange thing
                had brought
                       all this sadness about.

    It was
         because his mamma always cried
           when he spoke
               of his papa
             that he secretly
                  made up
                       his mind it was
                 better not
                      to speak of him very
                          often to her,
           and he found out,
         too,
           that it was
             better not
                  to let her sit
                 still and look
                       into the fire
                      or out of the window
             without moving or talking.

    He and his mamma
        knew very few people,
           and lived
             what might have been
                  thought very lonely lives,
         although Cedric
            did not know it
                was lonely
             until he
                grew older and heard
             why it was
                 they had no visitors.

    Then he was told
         that his mamma
            was an orphan,
           and quite alone
               in the world
             when his papa
                had married her.

    She was very pretty,
           and had been living
               as companion
                   to a rich old lady
             who was not kind
                   to her,
         and one
               day Captain Cedric Errol,
           who was
              calling at the house,
         saw her run
               up the stairs
                   with tears
                 on her eyelashes;
        and she looked
               so sweet
                   and innocent and sorrowful
             that the Captain
                could not forget her.

    And after many strange things
        had happened,
           they knew
               each other well and
              loved each other dearly,
         and were married,
           although their marriage
              brought them the ill-will
                   of several persons.