Duke advanced slowly as it were under protest, and at last ventured to place a little soft hand in the comparatively monstrous palm of Ralph, who squeezed the sovereign into it with such energy that the little boy cried out, and unaccustomed to such gratuities let the coin drop upon the path. But Duke picked it up with a practical sense which did him credit, and turned it over with eyes in which awe and eagerness were combined. He recognized the Queen’s head--but there was something about it which struck him as unusual. Unfortunately he could not yet read. He began to spell A--u--s---- “That’s Australia,” cried the newly-recognized uncle. Duke, somewhat suspicious, handed the coin to nurse. “Oh, Master Duke, how can you?” cried that anxious woman. “A beautiful sovereign; and you’ve never thanked the kind gentleman. I don’t know, sir,” she said, curtseying to Ralph, “if his mamma would let him take it, for my mistress is very particular--but----” “Not take it from his uncle?” roared Ralph. The discussion was interrupted by the sound of a step upon the gravel which made them all look round. The new-comer was an old gentleman with snow-white hair, but a ruddy wholesome complexion and the round ripe face which reminds one of a winter apple. “Frosty but kindly” was the look of the small twinkling eyes, the carefully trimmed-whisker, the smoothly-shaven chin and upper lip. The old gentleman was of short stature compared with Ralph: his neatness, his perfect cleanness, his well-brushed, well-dressed, carefully preserved look, all showing to greater advantage beside the big figure of the bushman in his big checks. He walked with great activity and alertness--like a young man, people said--but there was indeed a special energy almost demonstrative in his activity which betrayed the fact that it was something of a wonder that he should be active. He flourished his stick perhaps a little to make it apparent that he had no need of it. He eyed the group very curiously as he walked past them to the door--and then it was that he heard Ralph’s cry, “Not from his uncle?” At the sound of those words he turned round quickly and came back. “Eh,” he said, “his uncle? Who is this little fellow, my good woman? Marmaduke Parke? Then, my boy, I’m your uncle too.” Duke looked at this new claimant without the hesitation which he had shown to Ralph. There was no doubt on the most superficial examination that this was a gentleman. He took off his little hat and held out his little hand. “How do you do?” said the little boy. “Mamma is poorly and papa is out, and I’m just come back from my walk: but if you will come in, please, Saunders will know what to do.”