Lucky Logan Finds Love by Barbara Cartland Page A

language and read books written in that language with very little difficulty.”
    “How is that possible?”
    Belinda smiled.
    “My father taught me because he lived in Persia for some years as a young man. He loved the country and the people.”
    “And in what other languages are you proficient?” Lord Logan persisted.
    Knowing his parents had lived in India, Belinda answered,
    “I can speak Urdu and I can read some, though not all, of the Buddhist literature.”
    “And you enjoy that?” he enquired.
    “I think Buddhism is a fascinating religion,” Belinda answered, “or perhaps the right word is the most ‘fair’ of all the religions.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    Belinda told him that she thought that the theory of reincarnation, or the
Wheel of Rebirth
, was the only way one could justify some people being born into comfort and luxury and positions of power, whist others were starved and neglected, having no hope of rising from the gutter until they died.
    She knew as she spoke that Marcus Logan was looking at her not only with astonishment but also with interest.
    Then they were arguing over the rights and wrongs of reincarnation and the possibility of it being the answer to mankind’s existence.
    He was deliberately drawing her out, although she did not realise it and finding out if her ideas were superficial or her understanding went deeper.
    Belinda defended her beliefs aggressively.
    “How can it be fair,” she asked, “for someone to enjoy life to the full, to fend for himself entirely without a thought for others and repent only on his deathbed?”
    Her voice was scathing as she added,
    “He then says he is sorry for the sins he has committed and he walks straight into Paradise.”
    “If that is not true,” Lord Logan asked, “what
do
you think is fair?”
    “He should come back with his talents and his debts,” Belinda answered. “He should pay off the latter in another life until he is worthy of leaving this dimension for the next.”
    She was expecting Marcus Logan to refute such an idea, but instead he clapped his hands.
    “Bravo!” he exclaimed. “I can see you have studied the Buddhist Philosophy and I agree it is difficult not to think that you are on the right track, even though you have never left England.”
    Because she had been quite heated in her defence of her thoughts, Belinda felt a little embarrassed.
    “I suppose I must seem very ignorant to you,” she said humbly, “because I have been able only to think and to imagine what you have actually seen and heard and learnt at the very source from where it comes.”
    “What is important is that you
have
thought,” Marcus Logan said, “and may I tell you, Miss Brown, that I can hardly believe anyone so young can have thought so deeply.”
    “Thank you, my Lord,” Belinda answered. “It is very kind of you to say that, but I realise only too well that the more you know, the more you understand how much more there is to learn.”
    “That is what I have found and that is why I travel from place to place, always learning and always discovering.”
    He made a gesture with his hand.
    “That is something even I myself do not understand,” he said. “When I am in a country that is desperately poor and where I know that the average man has little chance of rising from the gutter, something that I cannot explain tells me how I can help them.”
    “It is your instinct – or rather your perception,” Belinda murmured beneath her breath.
    “Exactly! But I cannot imagine how you are aware of it.”
    Again, almost as if she was talking to her father, Belinda said what came into her head.
    “I think everybody has perception or what the Egyptians call
The Third Eye
. But the trouble is, they have not learnt how to use it. They are, therefore, afraid to follow their instincts and are prepared to believe only something that is printed on a piece of paper.”
    Marcus Logan laughed.
    “I can hardly believe,” he said, “that I