The laughter and the roughness which made Saunders think Missis’ brother an affable, if not very fine gentleman, were both the product of the confusion in Ralph’s mind, rather than of any desire to expend high spirits in a joke. He took out a sovereign from his pocket and twanged it through the air into the astonished butler’s palm, which somehow, surprised though Saunders was, found itself open to receive the unimportant gift. Ralph intended to show his solemn antagonist that a man who would toss about sovereigns like that was not a man who was in want of anything from Mrs. Parke. But it is doubtful how far he succeeded. Saunders had a profound acquaintance with the ways of men about the world, and his judgment was not that it was rich men who throw their sovereigns about. But he did not in the least object to have pieces of gold flung at him, and, indeed, liked the sound of them twanging through the air. Ralph, however, was in no hurry to go. He watched the footman strapping up his much-used portmanteau, and intimated that he thought he might as well have some lunch before he left: and he went out and displayed himself in front of the house, making a promenade up and down with his chest thrown well out, and his big footsteps making the gravel fly. He was not aware that Letitia watched him from her window, but he hoped as much, and that it was gall to her to see him in the way of every visitor who might arrive. The first who arrived, indeed, was no visitor, but the representative of the house in the person of Master Marmaduke, a little fellow of five, dressed in one of those childish suits which makes a child look as if it had gone to seed in the upper parts of its person, and was supported by the most incomplete thin stalks below. He was not so firmly planted upon his little legs as he ought to have been, but his shoulders had thus the air of being broad and strong. He returned from his walk with his nurse, while Ralph was taking this little stroll in preparation for the luncheon, which was being prepared for him in the dining-room. Little Duke went up to the intruder, whom he had not seen, with the air of the master of the house, seven times doubled in dignity and consequence. “Were you wanting anything here?” he asked, as if he had been his own father; but John Parke never filled the role so well. “Oh, Master Duke,” said the nurse, dismayed, “the gentleman is staying in the house!” Duke surveyed the bushman from head to foot with a child’s disapproval of a type unknown. “Hold your tongue,” he said, “and let me alone. He’s not staying in the house! Why, I’ve never seen him till this moment, and he’s not like anybody I know.” “What’s your name, little man?” said Ralph. “Come here and shake hands, and I’ll give you a bit of Australian gold, my boy, to know your uncle by.”