“About what?”
“Hush!” Lucille’s firm hand closed over her mother’s bare wrist with a force which made her wince. “He was present when Sam Hollister read Cousin John’s will. By the terms of that will Anne inherits this place and one million dollars.”
“And you—”
“A paltry one hundred thousand dollars.” The bitterness in her voice cut Mrs. Hull and she involuntarily laid her hand over her heart as if in actual physical pain. Her daughter was oblivious of her emotion as she continued her account of the scene in the library. “Father declared the codicil Cousin John signed Sunday night, revoking Anne’s bequest in my favor, had been purposely mislaid or stolen outright—”
“Lucille!”
“Let me finish, mother.” Lucille had inherited her father’s intolerance of interference, even in trivial matters. “Father plans to contest the will.”
Mrs. Hull stirred unhappily in her chair. “Why will Julian act without thought!” she exclaimed.
“He wished to protect my rights—”
Mrs. Hull appeared silenced, if not convinced. It was fully five minutes before she spoke again.
“And you still wish to remain here as Anne’s guest?” she asked.