“Lucille represented you,” she replied coldly. “Who informed you, Julian, that the will was being read?”
“What concern is that of yours?” with a scowl. “Go on, Hollister,” and without a word to any of the others he flung himself down in the nearest chair.
It seemed to Anne, as Hollister’s deep voice went on and on, that she would never hear the end of “whereas” and “because of” which sprinkled each page of the document. At its close, Hollister laid the will on the table and touched another more bulky manuscript.
“This,” he explained, “is the complete list, mentioned in Mr. Meredith’s will, of special bequests of his personal effects. Do you wish it read aloud?”
“No.” Colonel Hull was on his feet, his eyes blazing with anger. “I have heard enough. According to that document, Hollister, Anne Meredith is given one million dollars and Ten Acres. The rest of his fortune goes to charities and Lucille, my daughter, gets a paltry one hundred thousand dollars and a diamond necklace. What,” he turned and glared at Mrs. Meredith and her daughter, “what have you done with the codicil, signed by John on Sunday night, in which the million-dollar bequest to Anne was revoked and that amount given to Lucille?”
Mrs. Meredith straightened her stately figure. “Your language is obnoxious,” she said, and would have added more, but Sam Hollister interrupted her, his gaze grave with displeasure.
“We are all aware that the codicil and prenuptial agreement have disappeared,” he pointed out. “When I left John on Sunday night the documents were on his bed and Lucille was with him.”
Lucille paled as she met her father’s glance. “They were still on the bed when I went to my room a few minutes after you left, Sam,” she said, a catch in her voice.
“Do you suppose Lucille would suppress a document giving her one million dollars?” Colonel Hull laughed scornfully, even as he put the question. “The idea is absurd.”
“It is no more absurd than to suggest by inference that some one in this room is responsible for its disappearance,” retorted Mrs. Meredith, with spirit. “You forget yourself, Julian.”