"You mean—?" said Philip, with a look of inquiry. "I do not understand."
"I have treasure in heaven."
"But the coin of that realm is not current here?—and we are here."
"That coin makes me rich now; and I take it with me when I go," said the old lady, as she rose from the table.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
UNDER AN UMBRELLA.
Mrs. Barclay returned to her own room, and Mr. Dillwyn was forced to follow her. The door was shut between them and the rest of the household. Mrs. Barclay trimmed her fire, and her guest looked on absently. Then they sat down on opposite sides of the fireplace; Mrs. Barclay smiling inwardly, for she knew that Philip was impatient; however, nothing could be more sedate to all appearance than she was.
"Do you hear how the wind moans in the chimney?" she said. "That means rain."
"Rather dismal, isn't it?"
"No. In this house nothing is dismal. There is a wholesome way of looking at everything."