Dollenganger 04 Seeds of Yesterday by V. C. Andrews Page A

asked. "Twenty, fifty, more? One billion, two, three-- more?"
Chris laughed. "Oh, Catherine, you never grow up. You always exaggerate. To be honest, it's difficult to calculate the net worth of all those holdings when they are scattered into so many areas of investments. However, he should be pleased when his attorneys give a rough estimate . . . it's more than enough for ten greedy young men."
In the foyer we paused to watch Jory rehearsing with Cindy, both hot and sweaty from all their efforts. Other dancers who'd be in the ballet were with them, standing around idly, either watching Jory and Cindy or staring around at what they could see of the fabulous house. Cindy was doing exceptionally well, and that truly surprised me; imagine keeping up her ballet classes and not telling me. She must have used some of her allowance meant for clothes and cosmetics and other trivial things she was always needing.
One of the older dancers strolled over to me, smiling as she spoke of seeing me dance a few times in New York. "Your son is very much like his father," she went on, glancing back at Jory, who was whipping himself up into such a passion I wondered if he'd have any energy left for tonight's performance. "Maybe I shouldn't say this, but he's ten times better. I was only about twelve when you and Julian Marquet danced in The Sleeping Beauty, but it was the inspiration that gave me the desire to become a dancer myself, Thank you for giving us another wonderful dancer like Jory Marquet."
What she said filled me with happiness. My marriage to Julian hadn't been a total failure when it had produced Jory. Now I had to believe
Bartholomew Winslow's son would eventually fill me with just as much pride as I felt right now.
The, rehearsal -over, Cindy came to me, quite out of breath. "Mom, how did I do, okay?" Her eager face waited for my approval.
"You did beautifully, Cindy, really you did. Now, if you just remember to feel the music . . . keep the timing, you will turn in a remarkable performance for a novice:"
She grinned at me. "Always the instructor, huh, Mom? I suspect I'm not nearly as good as you want me to believe, but I'm going to give this performance my everything, and if I fail, it won't be because I didn't try.'
Jory was surrounded by admirers, while Melodie sat quietly on a love seat beside Bart. They didn't appear to be conversing, nor did they seem friendly. Yet, seeing them on that lovely small seat for two, I felt somehow uneasy. Tugging Chris forward, we moved closer to the pair on the love seat. "Happy birthday, Bart," I said cheerfully. He looked up and smiled with genuine charm.
"I told you it was going to be a great day, with sun and no rain."
"Yes, you told us."
"Can we all eat now?" he asked, standing and reaching for Melodie's hand. She ignored him and stood without assistance. "I'm starving!" Bart went on, looking only a little crestfallen from another of her rebuffs. "Those little Continental morning snacks just don't satisfy me."
We made a happy assembly at the luncheon table, all but Joel, who sat at his own small, round table on the terrace, apart from the rest of us. It was his claim that we were too rowdy and ate too much, insulting his monkish tastes, which dictated a serious attitude toward food and long prayers before and after eating. Even Bart grew annoyed with Joel when he became too pious, and especially on this day his impatience showed. "Uncle Joel, do you have to sit there all by yourself? Come, join the family group and wish me a happy birthday."
Joel shook his head. "The Lord scorns ostentatious displays of wealth and vanity. I
disapprove of this party. You could show your gratitude to be alive in a better way, by contributing to charities."
"What have charities done for me? This is my time to shine, Uncle, and even if dear old dead Malcolm flips over in his grave, I'm having the time of my life tonight!"
I was flooded with delight. Quickly I leaned to kiss him. "I love to see you like this,