Anne Belinda Read Online Free Page A

help.”
    John felt a quick relief. Impatience and relief were both quite out of proportion to the incident.
    â€œOh, then she’s the fair one. The other one had blue eyes.”
    They came up before him vividly—dark, solemn eyes like dark blue water. The eyes, and the long plaits, and the oval face were Anne Belinda’s. From that instant she ceased to be the funny kid of nine years ago, the dim reflection in her sister’s mirror; she became an astonishingly realizable creature; she became Anne Belinda.
    â€œWhere is she?” he said, and was, not unnaturally, misunderstood.
    â€œLady Marr? Oh, they’ve a place down in Sussex—Waterdene.”
    â€œNo, the other one—Anne Belinda.”

CHAPTER III
    There was just the very slightest pause before Lewis Smith said, “I don’t know.” As soon as he had spoken, he pulled his chair up to the table and reached for pencil and paper.
    â€œBy the way, I’ve made an awful break. You’ve just reminded me. That picture you saw at Waveney—Lady Marr wanted it removed before you came over; and it went right out of my head. I’ve been pretty busy with all my uncle’s work to see to.”
    â€œWhy didn’t she take it away before if she wanted it? It’s a year since Sir Anthony died.”
    â€œShe doesn’t want it. As a matter of fact, she wanted us to have it destroyed.”
    John made a sharp sound of protest. Lewis swung round in his chair.
    â€œYes, I know. She changed her mind when I told her that it was probably worth at least five thousand pounds. There’s been a boom in Amorys, and this is considered one of his best.”
    â€œShe wanted it destroyed? Why? Why on earth?”
    Lewis Smith began to be conscious of indiscretion. He drew in the corners of his mouth and hesitated before he answered.
    â€œI don’t know. Don’t ask me.”
    John’s glance took in the hesitation; his mind refused the spoken words.
    â€œDestroyed? That picture! She must have had a reason.”
    â€œShe probably thinks it doesn’t do her justice,” said Mr. Smith suavely.
    â€œRot! Why did she want it destroyed?”
    Lewis turned to his scribbling-block without answering. John was leaning forward, elbow on knee, chin in hand, eyes very intent. Where was Anne Belinda? Why had Sir Anthony left all his money to Jenny Marr? Why had Lulu dried up like that all of a sudden? And—back again to the first question—where was Anne? Where was Anne Belinda?
    â€œLook here, Lulu,” he said, “what’s the good of being so poisonously discreet all at once? You know something; and I want to know what you know. It’s all in the family, anyway. I want to know why Sir Anthony left all his money to one of his daughters—and the one who didn’t need it. Nicholas Marr’s rolling, isn’t he? I was at school with a cousin of his, and he used to talk about Nicholas and say he’d got money to burn—that’s how I know.”
    â€œHe made a very generous settlement on Lady Marr. Sir Anthony was still alive then, of course.”
    John’s expression hardened a little. Lewis wasn’t writing, though he was pretending to write. The writing-pad showed a meaningless scribble.
    â€œYes, I’m not feeling anxious about my cousin Jenny,” he said drily; “I’m thinking about my cousin Anne. Why did her father cut her out of his will? Where is she? What is she doing? And what is she living on? More particularly, what is she living on? I’ve had a shot myself at living on nothing a year. There aren’t any points about it at all. Where is my cousin Anne?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œLook here, Lulu, I mean business. What do you know?”
    Lewis Smith pushed his pad away.
    â€œI really don’t know anything.”
    â€œThen tell me what you do know. I won’t give you away.”
    â€œI tell you I