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She was not thinking of the people about; she was thinking of
Cedric, and of his visits to her, and his joy over his new pony,
on which he had actually ridden to her door the day before,
sitting very straight and looking very proud and happy. But soon
she could not help being attracted by the fact that she was being
looked at and that her arrival had created some sort of
sensation. She first noticed it because an old woman in a red
cloak made a bobbing courtesy to her, and then another did the
same thing and said, "God bless you, my lady!" and one man
after another took off his hat as she passed. For a moment she
did not understand, and then she realized that it was because she
was little Lord Fauntleroy's mother that they did so, and she
flushed rather shyly and smiled and bowed too, and said, "Thank
you," in a gentle voice to the old woman who had blessed her.
To a person who had always lived in a bustling, crowded American
city this simple deference was very novel, and at first just a
little embarrassing; but after all, she could not help liking and
being touched by the friendly warm-heartedness of which it seemed
to speak. She had scarcely passed through the stone porch into
the church before the great event of the day happened. The
carriage from the Castle, with its handsome horses and tall
liveried servants, bowled around the corner and down the green
lane.
"Here they come!" went from one looker-on to another.
And then the carriage drew up, and Thomas stepped down and opened
the door, and a little boy, dressed in black velvet, and with a
splendid mop of bright waving hair, jumped out.
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