THE MEREDITH MYSTERY
CHAPTER I
THE TEMPTATION
Anne Meredith looked at her mother, appalled. “Marry David Curtis!” she exclaimed. “Marry a man I have seen not more than a dozen times. Are you mad?”
“No, but your uncle is,” bitterly. “God knows what has prompted this sudden philanthropy,” hesitating for a word. “This sudden desire to, as he expresses it, ‘square accounts’ with the past by insisting that you marry David Curtis or be disinherited.”
“Disinherited—?”
“Just so”—her mother’s gesture was expressive. “Having brought you up as his heiress, he now demands that you carry out his wishes.”
“And if I refuse—?”
“We are to leave the house at once.”
Anne stared at her mother. “It is too melodramatic for belief,” she said, and laughed a trifle unsteadily. “This is the twentieth century—women are not bought and paid for. I,” with a proud lift of her head, “I can work.”