“We are so!” declared Bob, with great enthusiasm.
CHAPTER XV
PUZZLING RHYMES
“As I was saying,” continued Sinclair, “Mr. and Mrs. Hartley lived happily at Cromarty Manor. Three beautiful children were born to them, who have since grown to be the superior specimens of humanity you see before you. I am the oldest, and, as I may modestly remark, the flower of the family.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” commented Patty, looking affectionately at Mabel.
“Well, anyway, as was only natural, the search for that hidden fortune went on at times. Perhaps a visitor would stir up the interest afresh, and attempts would be made to discover new meaning in Uncle Marmaduke’s last words. And it was my father who succeeded in doing this. He sat in the library one day, looking over the old set of Dickens’ works, which always had a fascinating air of holding the secret. He had not lived here long then, and was not very familiar with the books on the library shelves, but looking about he discovered another set of Dickens, a much newer set, and the volumes were bound in cloth, but almost entirely covered by a gilded decoration. Wait, I’ll show you one.”
Sinclair rose, and going into the library, returned in a moment with a copy of “Barnaby Rudge.” It was bound in green cloth, but so ornate was the gold tooling that little green could be seen.
“Dickens—gold——” murmured Patty, her eyes shining as she realised the new meaning in the words.