Dorothy Eden by Sinister Weddings Page B

grief in the girl’s defiant face.
    “They wish I would go away already,” she muttered. “Can’t you see? Kate looks at me like an interloper every time she raises those baby eyes of hers.”
    “Don’t be absurd. As far as I’m concerned you’re welcome here for as long as you like.”
    Nita gave her a long look which held that curious mixture of contempt and friendliness.
    “And how long do you think you will be here?” she murmured.
    Julia laughed. “Until Paul divorces me, I imagine.”
    “You have competition,” said Nita airily. “Perhaps Paul will turn out to be a male Borgia.”
    Julia thought of the way Paul had kissed her last night, and laughed again, happily. “Are you suggesting it was he who played the trick with the salt?”
    “Oh no. He’d be clever enough to give you no warning.” Nita suddenly shrugged tiredly. “We’re talking nonsense. I don’t think I shall burden any of you with my company for long. Now get out while I tidy my room. And don’t be dumb.”
    “Dumb?”
    “Like getting it into your head that Harry is here. That’s just a piece of imbecile cruelty. If the old lady doesn’t stop it I’ll throttle her.”
    Julia thought she understood at last. Nita was too proud to show grief. She preferred to be full of anger and bitterness at the unkind destiny that had robbed her of a young husband. One had to feel deeply sorry for her. She meant to discuss with Paul what could be done for Nita as soon as she got him alone.
    But getting him alone seemed to be difficult today. First he was with Davey in the dining room, then he was shut in the library having a long discussion on the telephone. After that again Julia saw him in the garden talking to Nita. He gave her a careless slap across the shoulders, and looked down at her earnestly as if he were reassuring her about something. Julia waited to hear him come in, but when he did Kate waylaid him.
    “Is she going to behave?” Julia heard her say in a tense hard voice. It was the voice she had heard outside her bedroom on the night of her arrival, an indication of the unexpectedly fearful uncertain person who dwelt beneath Kate’s frivolous light-hearted surface.
    “Yes, indeed. I’ve fixed her,” said Paul. Then he added in irritation, “Why do you get so stewed up? Haven’t I told you there’s no need?”
    Julia, on an impulse, went flying down the stairs. “What’s going on here? Is there something I haven’t been told?”
    Her appearance took them by surprise. She caught on Kate’s face a naked look, the anxious frightened person looking out beneath the sophisticated make-up, and on Paul’s the disturbing hardness that it had worn last night when she had held up the lighted match to look at him.
    In an instant, however, they were themselves again, smiling at her, with Kate saying, “The way you run down those stairs, dear child, you’ll break your neck one day. Look at the colour she has, Paul. It’s not out of a box, either.”
    “She’s a pretty thing,” said Paul lightly.
    Julia was impatient. “You’re just changing the subject. What were you saying before I came down, something about fixing somebody. Is it about the salt in my tea?”
    Paul patted her shoulders. “Perhaps. Forget it, darling. It won’t happen again.”
    Into Julia’s mind came vividly the recollection of Paul, a few minutes earlier, patting Nita in a precisely similar way. She drew back rather sharply, then saw his look of hurt surprise and was sorry for her involuntary action.
    “Are you cross with us, darling?”
    “No, of course not. It was a silly joke, I suppose. But I keep thinking there’s something going on under the surface. All this talk of Harry, for instance. I’m going to live here. Haven’t I a right to know?”
    “The talk of Harry,” said Kate sadly, “is only done by poor old Granny. You mustn’t listen to her, dear. She’s crazy.”
    “Not all the time,” Julia persisted. “We had a perfectly rational