"It's my mother and sister, sir. My mother is sixty-five years of age."
"Ah!" said the Duke, thinking of the poor, young, helpless, deserted mother who bore himself, and who died in an alien land years and years ago.
"Yes, sir. She's an old woman, and I'm going down to see her, and I don't count on seeing her. My sister writes to say the doctor says she can't hold out another few days."
"I am sorry to hear that, I am indeed. And do you think there is no hope?"
"There is no hope, sir. She has been bad a long time, and the doctor said all along she'd never be up and about again."
"Poor old soul!" said the Duke sympathetically. "Now," thought he, "the thing is, would this young soldier resent my offering him a present of a fiver? I am afraid he would. He looks as if he were a lad of the right sort, and I must not even run the chance of offending him. No, no; I mustn't offer him money." He paused awhile in thought, and then spoke:
"By-the-way, did you ever hear of a society called the Soldiers' Kith and Kin Society?"
"No, sir."
"Well, it is a very good society. I would strongly recommend you to join it. You're a young man, and you ought to be a member of it. I am connected with it, and if you will be so kind as to give me your name and the name of where you are quartered, I'll send you some information about the society, and then you can make up your mind about joining it or not."
The young soldier pulled his sister's letter out of the bosom of his jacket, and handed the envelope to the Duke.