“Yes,” Miss Susanna nodded rather absently. Her thoughts, as well as Marjorie’s, were turning to the long-passed master of the Arms whose influence still pervaded the stately old house like a living presence.
“Goodness knows the library needed a going-over,” Miss Hamilton said with a sudden change to practicality. “Jonas has kept the books dusted, of course; but that’s all. I knew Uncle Brooke’s books were sadly out of place. I used to help him take care of his library. Somehow, after his death, I hadn’t a heart for this straightening job. Toward the last of his life he spent a great deal of time in the library. He was inclined to forgetfulness at times, which accounts for his books being so sadly out of place. They’re in order again at last, thanks to you, Marjorie.” Her keen dark eyes wandered contentedly from one tall-glassed bookcase to another.
“It’s not yet eleven. I think we’d have time to do that last case before luncheon, don’t you?” Marjorie was appraising the contents of a smaller teak-wood bookcase that stood by itself against the east wall of the library. Three sides of the library were book-lined, but the east side showed no bookcases other than the one she had just indicated.
“Yes; I think so, too. That case holds Uncle Brooke’s most treasured books.” Miss Susanna stood regarding it retrospectively. “Not books which might be considered very valuable from a money standpoint,” she explained. “It holds the books that were dear to him, for one reason or another. He never followed any particular arrangement in the matter of that case. I daresay half of them are standing upside-down on the shelves. I left it until last, purposely. The case is locked, but here’s the key.”
The old lady brought a small brass key from the depths of her pinafore pocket. She trotted across the room to the case and fitted the key to the lock. Marjorie followed her, standing interestedly beside her as she swung open the double glassed doors. More than once, during her stay at Hamilton Arms, while compiling the Brooke Hamilton biography, she had wondered idly about this particular case. Its glass doors had inside curtains of a thin, silky Oriental material which lent to the case an oddly mysterious air. Miss Susanna had never spoken of it to her, and Marjorie had delicately forborne making any inquiry to Miss Hamilton concerning it.