“Do you remember signing a paper?” asked the justice.

“Yes,” said Charlie; “but it was an old dingy-looking one—­we didn’t read it—­I just signed it for fun.”

“I told Charlie to put your name to it,” broke in Rex, eagerly.  “Is anything wrong, papa?”

“I will tell you the story and you shall judge for yourself,” said the justice, smiling.  “As it happened, the paper Charlie signed was not an old one.  It was in reference to removing an orphan boy from one guardianship to another.  He is about as old as Charlie, and it appears that the first guardian ill-treated the little fellow under the guise of kindness, being only intent on gain.  When the paper which ’his ludship,’” with a deep bow in Charlie’s direction—­“signed arrived, the boy was delighted, and he thoroughly enjoys the excellent home he is now in.  Imagine my surprise when a letter reached me thanking me for my wise decision.  I could not understand it, as I thought I knew the paper in reference to it was lying on my desk waiting its turn.  You may well laugh, you young rogues.”

“How did you find out?” asked Charlie, divided between contrition and a desire to enjoy the joke.

“Jarvis and I traced it out.  I paid a visit to Wales and put the signature of the original Barrington to the document.  The present guardian of the boy declares the little fellow’s disposition would have been completely ruined if he had remained much longer under his former guardian’s care, and I am afraid, in the ordinary course of the law, which moves slowly, it would have been some time before the matter could have been attended to.  So you have done that much good to a fellow-boy.  Only be careful in the future, dear lad, to read a document before signing it, for carelessness in that direction might not always end as well as it has in this instance.  What puzzles me is how you came to take that particular paper when so many others lay about; it was but one chance in a million.”

“‘A chance—­the eternal God that chance did guide,’” quoted Dr. Kingsley, in his quiet, gentle voice.

“What lots we’ll have to tell Ned!  O boys, do let’s cheer!” cried Selwyn eagerly, springing to his feet.  “Here goes—­three cheers for Uncle Geof and dear papa, and a big, big ‘tiger’ for his ‘ludship!’”

THE PIOUS CONSTANCE.

Once upon a time the Emperor of Rome had a beautiful daughter named Constance.  She was so fair to look on, that far and wide, she was spoken of as “the beautiful princess.”  But, better than that, she was so good and so saintly that everybody in her father’s dominions loved her, and often they forgot to call her “the beautiful princess,” but called her instead, “Constance the good.”