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.  Fauntleroy, 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 looking down into his upraised face a few seconds, kissed him warmly.

“I am 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!”

“I 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.

“I have not asked her,” answered the Earl, slightly scowling.

“Well,” said Lady Lorridaile, “I 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 if you wish to quarrel with me, you had better mention it at once.  What I hear of the young creature makes me quite sure that her child owes her everything.  We were told even at Lorridaile Park that your poorer tenants adore her already.”

“They adore him,” said the Earl, nodding toward Fauntleroy.  “As to Mrs. Errol, you’ll find her a pretty little woman.  I’m rather in debt to her for giving some of her beauty to the boy, and you can go to see her if you like.  All I ask is that she will remain at Court Lodge and that you will not ask me to go and see her,” and he scowled a little again.

“But he doesn’t hate her as much as he used to, that is plain enough to me,” her ladyship said to Sir Harry afterward.  “And he is a changed man in a measure, and, incredible as it may seem, Harry, it is my opinion that he is being made into a human being, through nothing more nor less than his affection for that innocent, affectionate little fellow.  Why, the child actually loves him—­leans on his chair and against his knee.  His own children would as soon have thought of nestling up to a tiger.”

The very next day she went to call upon Mrs. Errol.  When she returned, she said to her brother: