Patty's Friends

  CHAPTER XIII

  CROMARTY MANOR

  Life at Cromarty Manor was very pleasant indeed.

  Although Patty had not definitely realised it, she was thoroughly tiredout by her London gaieties, and the peaceful quiet of the country broughther a rest that she truly needed.

  Also, the Hartleys were a delightful family to visit. There is quite asmuch hospitality in knowing when to leave guests to themselves as thereis in continually entertaining them.

  And while the Hartleys planned many pleasures for Patty, yet there werealso hours in the morning or early afternoon, when she was free to followher own sweet will.

  Sometimes she would roam around the historic old house, pausing here andthere in some of the silent, unused rooms, to imagine romances of daysgone by.

  Sometimes she would stroll out-of-doors, through the orchards and woods,by ravines and brooks, always discovering some new and beautiful vista orbit of scenery.

  And often she would spend a morning, lying in a hammock beneath the oldtrees, reading a book, or merely day-dreaming, as she watched thesunlight play hide-and-seek among the leaves above her head.

  One morning, after she had been at Cromarty Manor for about a week, Pattybetook herself to her favourite hammock, carrying with her a book ofFairy Tales, for which she had never outgrown her childish fondness.

  But the book remained unopened, for Patty's mind was full of busythoughts.

  She looked around at the beautiful landscape which, as far as the eyecould reach included only the land belonging to the Cromarty estate.There were more than a thousand acres in all, much of which wascultivated ground, and the rest woodland or rolling meadows. Patty lookedat the dark woods in the distance; the orchards nearer by; and, in herimmediate vicinity, the beautiful gardens and terraces.

  The latter, of which there were two, known as the Upper and LowerTerrace, were two hundred feet long and were separated by a sloping bankof green lawn, dotted with round flower beds.

  "Often she would spend a morning lying in a hammockbeneath the old trees"]

  Above the terraces rose the old house itself. The Manor was built of agrayish stone, and was of Elizabethan architecture.

  More than two hundred years old, it had been remodelled and added to byits various successive owners, but much of its fine old, original planwas left.

  Ivy clung to its walls, and birds fluttered in and out continually.

  There was a tower on either side the great entrance, and Patty loved tofancy that awful and mysterious deeds had been committed within thosefrowning walls.

  But there was no legend or tradition attached to the mansion, and all itshistory seemed to be peaceful and pleasant.

  Even the quaint old yew-tree walk, with its strangely misshapenshrubbery, was bright and cheerful in the morning sunlight, and the lakerippled like silver, and gave no hint of dark or gloomy depths.

  And yet, Patty couldn't help feeling that there was some shadow hangingover the Hartley family. They were never sad or low-spirited, butsometimes Mrs. Hartley would sigh, or Grandma Cromarty would lookanxious, as if at some unrelievable sorrow.

  The boys were always light-hearted and gay, but Mabel often had moods ofdespondency, which, while they never made her cross or irritable, were sopathetic that it worried Patty's loving heart.

  And so she lay in her hammock, gazing at the beauty all about her, andwondering what was the secret grief that harassed her dear friends. Itnever occurred to her that it was none of her affair, for Patty waspossessed of a healthy curiosity, and moreover she was innately of ahelpful nature, and longed to know what the trouble was, in a vague hopethat she might be of some assistance.

  "I know they're not rich," she said to herself, "for the whole placeshows neglect and shabbiness; but there's something besides lack of moneythat makes Madam Cromarty sad."

  The place was indeed in a state of unrepair. Though there were manyservants, there were not enough to do all that should have been done. Thetwo gardeners did their best to keep the flowers in order, but theelaborate conventional gardens, laid out in geometric designs, andintricate paths, called for a complete staff of trained workers, and inthe absence of these, became overgrown at their borders and untidy inappearance.

  It was the same indoors. The handsome old furniture, covered with silkbrocades and tapestries, was worn and sometimes ragged in appearance.Some of the decorations showed need of regilding, and though themagnificent old carved woodwork, and tessellated floors could not bemarred by time, yet many of the lesser appointments called for renovationor renewal. The Great Hall, as it was called, had best withstood theravages of time, as it was wainscoted and ceiled in massive old oak.

  It was a noble apartment, with recessed windows and panelled walls, andacross one end was a raised platform from the back of which rose awonderfully carved chimney-piece.

  This apartment, in the palmier days of the Manor House, had been theBanqueting Hall, but as there was a smaller and more appropriatedining-room, the Hartleys used the Great Hall as a living room, and hadgathered in it their dearest treasures and belongings. Grandma Cromartyhad her own corner, with her knitting basket. In another corner was agrand piano, and many other musical instruments. In one north bay windowwas Mabel's painting outfit, and so large was the recess that it formed agood-sized studio. On the walls, hobnobbing with the ancient antlers anddeers' heads, trophies of the chase, were the boys' tennis rackets, andin the outstretched arm of a tall figure in armour, a lot of golfsticksrested against the quartered shield.

  "I suppose," Mabel had said, when they first showed this room to Patty,"a great many people would consider it desecration to fill up this fineold place with all our modern stuff. But we're modern, and so we make thecarving and tapestries give way to us."

  "They like it," Patty had replied. "They feel sorry for other houseswhere the carvings and tapestries have to stay back in their own oldtimes. Now hear these old rafters ring to modern music," and seatingherself at the piano, Patty began some rollicking songs that were ofdecidedly later date than the old rafters.

  Opening from the old Banqueting Hall was the library. This had been leftjust as it was, and the shelves full of old books were a never-failingdelight to Patty's browsing nature. A gallery ran round all four sides,which was reached by spiral iron staircases, and the deep-seated windows,with their old leather cushions, made delightful nooks in which to poreover the old volumes. There were many unused rooms in the Manor House.Many unexpected alcoves and corridors, and in these the old furniture wasworn and decayed. The rooms that were lived in were kept in comfortableorder, but Patty knew, had there been more house-servants, these otherapartments would have been thrown open to light and air.

  Surely, Patty decided, the Hartleys were pinched for money, but just assurely, she thought, that could not have the effect of casting thatindefinite gloom over them which was now and then observable. And as sheidly swung in her hammock, she made up her mind to ask about it.

  "If they don't want to tell me, they needn't," she said to herself, "butthey surely know me well enough now to know that I'm honestly interestedin their life, and not merely trying to pry into their secrets."

  But she could not quite decide which one of the family to ask about it.She would have preferred to ask Grandma Cromarty, but the old lady had acertain reserve, which, at times, was forbidding, and Patty stood alittle in awe of her.

  Mrs. Hartley was kindly and responsive, but Patty rarely saw her exceptwhen the whole family was present. In the morning Mrs. Hartley was busywith household duties, and afternoons Patty and Mabel were usuallytogether. Patty felt sure she could never ask Mabel, for though the twogirls were confidential friends, there was a sensitiveness in Mabel'sdisposition that made Patty shrink from touching on what she felt mightbe a painful subject. Then there were the boys. Bob, at home on hisvacation from college was Patty's chum and merry comrade, but sheimagined he would cleverly evade a serious question. He was alwayschaffing, and while Patty was always glad to meet him on thi
s ground, shealmost knew he wouldn't talk seriously on family subjects. This left onlySinclair. Patty really liked Sinclair Hartley. A young man of abouttwenty, he was studying law in a nearby town, where he went everymorning, returning in mid-afternoon.

  He was kindly and courteous, and though often grave, was alwaysappreciative of a joke, and quite ready to join in any fun. But he had aserious side, and Patty had enjoyed many long talks with him on subjectsthat never would interest Mabel or Bob.

  And so she concluded that at the first opportunity, she would askSinclair what was the nature of the mystery that seemed to hang over theHouse of Hartley.

  "Ah, there, Pitty-Pat!" called a gay voice, and looking around, Patty sawBob strolling toward her across the lawn. "Want to go out on the lake andfish for pond-lilies?"

  "Yes, indeed," said Patty, twisting herself out of the hammock. "What areyou going to do with them?"

  "Oh, just for the lunch table. Mabel's so everlastingly fond of them, youknow."

  Patty thought it was nice of Bob to remember his sister's tastes, and shewillingly went with him toward the lake.

  "How beautiful it all is!" she said as they went down the terrace stepsand along the lake path which led through a pergola and around a curvedcorner called "The Alcove."

  This delightful nook was a small open court of marble, adorned withpillars and statues, and partly surrounding a fountain.

  "Yes, isn't it?" exclaimed Bob, enthusiastically. "You know, Patty, thisold place is my joy and my despair. I love every stick and stone of it,but I wish we could keep it up in decent order. Heigh-ho! Just wait untilI'm out of college. I'll do something then to turn an honest shilling,and every penny of it shall go to fix up the dear old place."

  "What are you going to be, Bob?"

  "An engineer. There's more chance for a fellow in that than in any otherprofession. Old Sinclair's for being a lawyer, and he'll be a good one,too, but it's slow work."

  "You ought to go to America, Bob, if you want to get rich."

  "I would, like a shot, if I could take the old house with me. But I'mafraid it's too big to uproot."

  "I'm afraid it is. I suppose you wouldn't like to live in a brown-stonefront on Fifth Avenue?"

  "Never having seen your brown-stone Avenue, ma'am, I can't say; but Isuppose a deer park and lake and several thousand acres of meadow landare not included with each house."

  "No; not unless you take the whole of Manhattan Island."

  "Even that wouldn't do; unless I had taken it a few hundred years ago,and started the trees growing then."

  "No, America wouldn't suit you," said Patty, thoughtfully, "any more thanEnglish country life would suit most of our American boys."

  "But you like this life of ours?"

  "I love it; for a time. And just now I am enjoying it immensely. Oh, whatgorgeous lilies!"

  They had reached the lake, and the quiet, well-behaved water was placidlyrippling against the stone coping.

  Bob untied the boat.

  "It's an old thing," he said, regretfully; "but it's water-tight, sodon't be afraid."

  Patty went down the broad marble steps, and seated herself in the sternof the boat, while Bob took the rowing seat.

  A few of his strong pulls, and they were out among the lily pads.

  "Row around a bit before we gather them," suggested Patty, and Bob withlong, slow strokes sent the boat softly and steadily along.

  "Isn't it perfect?" said Patty, dreamily. "It seems as if nothing couldstir me up on a day like this."

  "Is that so?" said Bob, and with mischief in his eyes, he began to rockthe boat from side to side.

  "You villain!" cried Patty, rudely stirred from her calm enjoyment; "takethat!"

  She dashed light sprays of water at him from over the side of the boat,and he returned by cleverly sprinkling a few drops on her from the bladeof his oar.

  "Why did you want to kick up a bobbery, when everything was so nice andpeaceful?" she said, reproachfully.

  "I shall always kick up a bobbery," he returned, calmly, "when you put onthat romantic, sentimental air."

  "I didn't put on any sentimental air! I was just enjoying the dreamyspirit 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 passed."

  "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 songswhich seemed to them choicest gems of musical composition.

  As a rule Patty and Bob made up the words, while Mabel and Sinclairarranged the tunes.

  Sometimes the airs were adapted from well-known songs, and sometimes theywere entirely original.

  "The Little Kibosh" was one of their favourite nonsense songs, and nowPatty 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 passed 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!'"