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"I didn't put on any sentimental air! I was just enjoying the dreamy spirit of the lake."
"Thank you! That's the same as saying my society makes you sleepy."
"Nothing of the sort. And anyway, the dreamy mood has pa.s.sed."
"Yes, I intended it should. Now, let's sing."
"All right; what?"
"The 'Little Kibosh,' I think. That's a good song to row by."
The young people at Cromarty Manor had already composed several songs which seemed to them choicest gems of musical composition.
As a rule Patty and Bob made up the words, while Mabel and Sinclair arranged the tunes.
Sometimes the airs were adapted from well-known songs, and sometimes they were entirely original.
"The Little Kibosh" was one of their favourite nonsense songs, and now Patty and Bob sang it in unison as they rowed slowly about on the lake.
"It was ever so many years ago, On a prairie by the sea; A little Kibosh I used to know By the name of Hoppity Lee.
His hair was as green as the driven snow, And his cheeks were as blue as tea.
"'Twas just about night, or nearly noon When Hoppity Lee and I Decided to go for a sail to the moon, At least, as far as the sky.
But instead of taking the Big Balloon, sailed in a pumpkin pie.
"Dear little Hoppity Lee and I Were happy and glad and gay; But the Dog Star came out as we pa.s.sed by, And began to bark and bay.
And the little Kibosh fell out of the pie, And into the Milky Way!
"I fished and fished for a year and a week For dear little Hoppity Lee; And at last I heard a small faint squeak From the place where he used to be; And he said, 'Go home, and never more seek, Oh, never more seek for me!'"
CHAPTER XIV
UNCLE MARMADUKE
That very same evening Patty had a chance to speak to Sinclair alone.
It was just after dinner, and the lovely English twilight was beginning to cast long, soft shadows of the tall cypresses across the lawn. The various members of the family were standing about on the terrace, when Sinclair said, "You need some exercise, Patty; let's walk as far as the alcove."
Patty a.s.sented, and the two strolled away, while Mabel called after them, "Don't be gone long, for we're all going to play games this evening."
They all loved games, so Patty promised to return very soon.
"I never saw anything like this alcove before in my life," said Patty, as they reached the picturesque spot and sat down upon the curving marble seat.
"They are often found in the gardens of old English homes. Any arched or covered seat out of doors is called an alcove. But this is rather an elaborate one. The marble pillars are of fine design, and the whole thing is beautifully proportioned."
"Is it very old?"
"Yes, older than the house. You know the Cromartys have lived on this estate for several hundred years. But the original house was destroyed by fire, or nearly so, and the present house was built on the old foundations about the middle of the seventeenth century. If you're interested in these things, there are lots of books in the library, telling all about the history of the place."
"Indeed I am interested, and I shall look up the books, if you'll tell me what they are. Is there any legend or tradition connected with the place?"
"No. We have no ghosts at Cromarty Manor. We've always been a peaceful sort, except that my great uncle quarrelled with my grandfather."
"Mrs. Cromarty's husband?"
"Yes. He was Roger Cromarty--grandfather was, I mean--and he had a brother Marmaduke. They were both high-tempered, and Marmaduke after an unusually fierce quarrel left home and went to India. But have you never heard the story of the Cromarty Fortune?"
"No, I never have. Is it a sad story? Would you rather not tell me?"
"Why, no; it isn't a sad story, except that the conditions are rather sad for us. But there's no reason in the world why you shouldn't hear it, if you care to. Indeed, I supposed Mabel had already told it you."
"No, she never did. Will you?"
"Yes. But not here. Let us go in, and get the family all together, and we'll give you a dramatic recital of the Great Cromarty Mystery."
"Oh, is it a mystery story? How delightful. I love a mystery."
"I'm glad you do, but I a.s.sure you I wish it wasn't a mystery."
"Will it never be solved?"
"I fear not, now. But let us go back to the house, and tell the tale as it should be told."
They found that the others had already gone into the house, and were gathered round the big table that stood in the middle of the living room.
As they joined the group, Sinclair said:
"Before we play games this evening, we are going to tell Patty the story of Uncle Marmaduke's money."
Patty was surprised to note the different expressions on her friends'
faces. Mabel seemed to shrink into herself, as if in embarra.s.sment or sensitiveness. Mrs. Cromarty looked calmly proud, and Mrs. Hartley smiled a little.
But Bob laughed outright, and said:
"Good! I'll help; we'll all help, and we'll touch up the tale until it has all the dramatic effect of a three-volume novel."
"It won't need touching up," said Sinclair. "Just the plain truth is story enough of itself."
"You begin it, Grandy," said Bob, "and then, when your imagination gives out, I'll take a hand at it."
The old lady smiled.
"It needs no imagination, Robert," she said; "if Patty cares to hear of our family misfortune, I'm quite willing to relate the tale."
"Oh, I didn't know it was a misfortune," cried Patty. "I thought it was a mystery story."