"It was a foolish reply; but it answered the purpose if not the question. She kept the parcel and shut the door. When I looked round I saw my uncle going through a regular series of convolutions, corresponding exactly to the bodily contortions he must have executed at school every time he received a course of what they call _palmies_ in Scotland; if, indeed, Uncle Peter was ever even suspected of improper behaviour at school. It consisted first of a dance, then a double-up; then another dance, then another double-up, and so on. "'Some stupid hoax, I suppose!' said the artist, as I put the parcel into his hands. He looked gloomy enough, poor fellow. "'Don't be too sure of that, if you please, sir,' said I, and vanished. "Everything was a good joke to uncle all that evening. "'Charlie,' said he, 'I never had such a birthday in my life before; but, please God, now I've begun, this will not be the last of the sort. But, you young rascal, if you split, why, I'll thrash the life out of you. No, I won't--'here my uncle assumed a dignified attitude, and concluded with mock solemnity--'No, I won't. I will cut you off with a shilling.' "This was a _crescendo_ passage, ending in a howl; upon which he commenced once more an edition of the Highland fling, with impromptu variations. "When all the parcels were delivered, we walked home together to my uncle's lodgings, where he gave me a glass of wine and a sovereign for my trouble. I believe I felt as rich as any of them. "But now I must tell you the romance of my uncle's life. I do not mean the suspected hidden romance, for that no one knew--except, indeed, a dead one knew all about it. It was a later romance, which, however, nearly cost him his life once. "One Christmas-eve we had been occupied, as usual, with the presents of the following Christmas-day, and--will you believe it?--in the same lodgings, too, for my uncle was a thorough Tory in his hatred of change. Indeed, although two years had passed, and he had had the whole of his property at his disposal since the legal term of one year, he still continued to draw his salary of L100 of Messrs. Buff and Codgers. One Christmas-eve, I say, I was helping him to make up parcels, when, from a sudden impulse, I said to him-- "'How good you are, uncle!' "'Ha! ha! ha!' laughed he; 'that's the best joke of all. Good, my boy! Ha! ha! ha! Why, Charlie, you don't fancy I care one atom for all these people, do you? I do it all to please myself. Ha! ha! ha! It's the cheapest pleasure at the money, considering the quality, that I know. That _is_ a joke. Good, indeed! Ha! ha! ha!' "I am happy to say I was an old enough bird not to be caught with this metaphysical chaff. But my uncle's face grew suddenly very grave, even sad in its expression; and after a pause he resumed, but this time without any laughing:-- "'Good, Charlie! Why, I'm no use to anybody.'