e pinched for money, but just as
surely, she thought, that could not have the effect of casting that
indefinite gloom over them which was now and then observable. And as she
idly 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, "but
they surely know me well enough now to know that I'm honestly interested
in 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 a
certain reserve, which, at times, was forbidding, and Patty stood a
little in awe of her.

Mrs. Hartley was kindly and responsive, but Patty rarely saw her except
when the whole family was present. In the morning Mrs. Hartley was busy
with household duties, and afternoons Patty and Mabel were usually
together. Patty felt sure she could never ask Mabel, for though the two
girls were confidential friends, there was a sensitiveness in Mabel's
disposition that made Patty shrink from touching on what she felt might
be a painful subject. Then there were the boys. Bob, at home on his
vacation from college was Patty's chum and merry comrade, but she
imagined he would cleverly evade a serious question. He was always
chaffing, and while Patty was always glad to meet him on this ground, she
almost knew he wouldn't talk seriously on family subjects. This left only
Sinclair. Patty really liked Sinclair Hartley. A young man of about
twenty, he was studying law in a nearby town, where he went every
morning, returning in mid-afternoon.

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

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

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

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

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

Patty thought it was nice of Bob to remember his sis