"I am your uncle."
"My mother's brother."
"Her only brother."
"And I thought I had no relatives."
The boy was in an ecstasy. He stood with eyes fixed on his new relative, his face going from red to white like a girl's. Then in a trice he had his arms round the neck of this good uncle, and was hugging him warmly.
"I love you!... I love you!" he cried.
"And I love you, my boy," said the man simply.
"I feel weak like that lamb," said Dallas, and his arms slipped down from the man's shoulders and he re-seated himself on the log close to his side. "I want something strong to hold on to."
Mr. Devering threw an impatient glance in the direction of Boston, and I knew that he was blessing the splendid, but peculiar man, the boy's father. Aloud he said: "Let us change the subject. I want to tell you a story about General Wolfe."