ng a painting of a
fine-looking man in the prime of life.

"Yes," said Mrs. Cromarty. "But the picture represents him as looking
amiable, whereas he was always cross, grumpy, and irritable."

"Like me," commented Bob.

"No," said his mother, "I'm thankful to say that none of you children
show the slightest signs of Uncle Marmaduke's disposition. I was only
fifteen years old when he died, but I shall never forget his scowling
face and angry tones."

"Was he always cross?" asked Patty, amazed that any one could be
invariably ill-tempered.

"Always," said Mrs. Cromarty. "At least, whenever he was here. I never
saw him elsewhere."

"Go back, Grandy; you're getting ahead of your story."

"Well, I tried my best to bring about a reconciliation between the two
brothers, but both were proud and a bit stubborn. I could not persuade my
husband to write to Marmaduke, and though I wrote to him myself, my
letters were torn up, and the scraps returned to me."

"Lovely old gentleman!" commented Bob. "I'm glad my manners are at least
better than that!"

"At last, my husband, Mr. Roger Cromarty, became very ill. I knew he
could not recover, and wrote Marmaduke to that effect. To my surprise, I
received a grim, but fairly polite letter, saying that he would leave
India at once, and hoped to reach his brother's bedside in time for a
reconciliation."

"And did he?" asked Patty, breathlessly.

"Yes, but that was all. My husband was dying when his brother came. They
made peace, however, and arranged some business matters."

"Oh," cried Patty, "how glad you must have been that he did not come too
late. What a comfort all these years, to know that they did make up their
quarrel."

"Yes, indeed," assented Mrs. Cromarty. "But I have talked all I can.
Emmeline, you may take up the narrative."

"I'll tell a little," said Mrs. Hartley, smiling; "but I shall soon let
Sinclair continue. We all know this tale by heart, but only Sinclair can
do full justice to the mysterious part of it. I was only ten years old
when my father died, and Uncle Marmaduke came here to live. It changed
the whole world for me. Where before all had been happiness and love, now
all was unkindness and fear. None of us dared cross Uncle Marmaduke, for
his fiery anger was something not to be endured. And beside being
bad-tempered, he was erratic. He did most peculiar things, without any
reason in them whatever. Altogether, he was a most difficult man to live
wit