ful, candid brown eyes, that she almost uttered an exclamation of
pleasure and surprise at the sight.
As she shook hands with the Earl, she called him by the name
she had not used since her girlhood.
“What, Molyneux!” she said, ‘is this the child?”
“Yes, Constantia,” answered the Earl, "this is the boy. Faunt¬
leroy, this is your grand-aunt, Lady Lorridaile.”
‘How do you do, Grand-Aunt?” said Fauntleroy.
Lady Lorridaile put her hand on his shoulders, and after look¬
ing down into his upraised face a few seconds, kissed him warmly.
‘lam your Aunt Constantia,” she said, "and I loved your poor
papa, and you are very like him.”
“It makes me glad when I am told I am like him,” answered
Fauntleroy, " because it seems as if every one liked him,—just like
Dearest, eszackly,— Aunt Constantia” (adding the two words
after a second’s pause).
Lady Lorridaile was delighted. She bent and kissed him again,
and from that moment they were warm friends.
“Well, Molyneux,’ she said aside to the Earl afterward, "it
could not possibly be better than this!”
‘“T think not,” answered his lordship dryly. ‘He is a fine little
fellow. We are great friends. He believes me to be the most
charming and sweet-tempered of philanthropists. I will confess to
you, Constantia,—as you would find it out if I did not,—that I am
in some slight danger of becoming rather an old fool about him.”
‘“What does his mother think of you?” asked Lady Lorridaile,
with her usual straightforwardness.
‘‘T have not asked her,” answered the Earl, slightly scowling.
“Well,” said Lady Lorridaile, "1 will be frank with you at the
outset, Molyneux, and tell you I don’t approve of your course, and
that it is my intention to call on Mrs. Errol as soon as possible; so