"I am thy uncle," said the strange gentleman, with a gulp, and thereupon, releasing Oliver, he took a fine cambric handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his eyes.
Oliver stood dumb and gaping. He did not know whether he was asleep or awake. "My uncle!" he repeated, stupidly, at last.
"Yes, thy uncle."
"My uncle!" repeated Oliver again.
"And thy dear mother?" asked the strange gentleman.
"She is in the house," said Oliver; and then he called, "Mother! mother!"
And his mother, stopping the clattering with the pots and pans, came to the door, and then, seeing a strange gentleman, stood quite still and stared.
"Mother," said Oliver, "here is a man who says he is my uncle."
"Your what?" said his mother.