“What’s the matter, Georgina?” she asked finally. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
Georgina flushed guiltily. “Nothing,” was the embarrassed answer. “I was just wondering whether to tell you or not. I thought maybe you’d like to know, and maybe you ought to know, but I wasn’t sure whether you’d want me to talk to you about it or not.”
Belle put down her tea-cup. It was her turn to stare.
“For goodness’ sake! What _are_ you beating around the bush about?”
“About the news from Danny,” answered Georgina. “About the letter he wrote to the wild-cat woman and that got buried in the dunes too deep ever to be dug up again.”
As this was the first Belle had heard of either the letter or the woman, her expression of astonishment was all that Georgina could desire. Her news had made a sensation. Belle showed plainly that she was startled, and as eager to hear as Georgina was to tell. So she began at the beginning, from the time of the opening of the pouch on the Green Stairs, to the last word of the wild-cat woman’s conversation which Uncle Darcy had repeated to her only a few moments before under the willow.
Instinctively, she gave the recital a dramatic touch which made Belle feel almost like an eye witness as she listened. And it was with Uncle Darcy’s own gestures and manner that she repeated his final statement.
“Jimmy Milford thought the liniment folks calling the boy Dave proved he wasn’t the same as my Danny. But just one thing would have settled all doubts for me if I’d had any. That was what he kept a calling in his fever when he was out of his head: ’_Belle_ mustn’t suffer. _Belle_ must be spared no matter what happens.’”
At the bringing of her own name into the story Belle gave a perceptible start and a tinge of red crept into her pale cheeks.
“Did he say that, Georgina?” she demanded, leaning forward and looking at her intently. “Are you sure those are his exact words?”