The Yellow Snake by Edgar Wallace Page B

he seemed in other directions.
        Woodmen were engaged in felling the trees about the cottage. Even as she looked she saw a high fir topple over slowly and heard the crash of its branches as it struck the ground. By tomorrow the cottage would be almost completely visible, she thought, and turned at that moment as a tap came upon the door.
        "It's Letty," said a shrill voice, and, when she hastened to turn the key: "Why on earth do you lock yourself in, Joan?"
        Letty had only made two visits to the room, and now she looked around with an air of surprise.
        "Why, you're very comfortable here!" she said, and, had Joan been uncharitable, she would have read into the surprise a note of disappointment. "Father has been on the telephone; he won't be home tonight. He wants us to go up to dinner with him—you don't mind being left alone?"
        It was an unusual question, considering that it was addressed to one who had spent many an evening alone and was glad of the privilege.
        "We may be late because we're going on to a dance at the Savoy after the theatre."
        She was turning to go, with another glance round the room,-when she remembered something.
        "I've seen that man Lynne, Joan. He's awfully good looking! Why on earth did he come here in that ridiculous get-up?"
        Here was the inevitable grievance which Joan had anticipated. Minds were evidently working along parallel lines at Sunni Lodge.
        "Not that it would have made any difference to me," said Letty, with a lift of her chin. "A girl can't live on good looks."
        There was an imp of mischief in Joan Bray's composition, and she was, moreover, intensely curious to know what would be the effect upon the girls if she passed on her information.
        "Clifford Lynne is not a poor man: he is very rich," she said. "Mr Bray only held a one-tenth interest in the company. Clifford Lynne has a four-fifths holding."
        Letty's jaw dropped.
        "Who told you that?" she asked sharply.
        "Clifford Lynne. And I know he was speaking the truth."
        Letty opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and, slamming the door behind her, went downstairs. In five minutes the girl heard voices outside the door, and without knocking Mabel came in, followed by her sister.
        "What is this that Letty tells me about Lynne?" she asked almost querulously. "It is rather curious that we haven't heard about it before?"
        Joan was amused; she could have laughed aloud, but she managed to keep a straight face.
        "You mean about Mr Lynne's wealth? He's a very rich man—that is all I know."
        "Does Father know too?" asked Mabel, struggling to suppress her unreasonable anger.
        Joan shook her head.
        "I should imagine he doesn't."
        The two sisters looked at one another.
        "Of course, this alters everything," said Mabel emphatically. "In the first place, nobody wanted to marry a scarecrow, and in the second place, it was ridiculous to expect either of us girls to tie ourselves for life to a poverty-stricken servant, as it were, of uncle's."
        "Preposterous!" agreed Letty.
        "It was obviously Mr Bray's idea that he should marry one of us girls," said Mabel. "I don't suppose he'd ever heard of your existence, Joan."
        "I'm pretty sure he hadn't," answered Joan, and Mabel smiled, as she seated herself in the most comfortable chair in the room.
        "Then we've got to be just sensible about this," she said, in her most amiable tone. "If what you say is true—and of course I don't think for one moment that you've made it up—dear Uncle Joe's wishes should be——"
        "Fulfilled," suggested Letty, when Mabel paused for a word.
        "Yes, that's it—fulfilled. It is a little awkward for you, but practically you don't know the man, and I'm sure the idea of this marriage has worried you a great deal. As I was saying to