Then she remembered the will that had given her the key to Farley’s intentions. Possibly the new will, which Thurston had brought to the house that day, cut her expectations to an even lower figure....
It pleased her to think that she was studying the matter dispassionately, arguing with herself both for and against Billy’s plan. It was more honest to marry Copeland now and be done with it than to wait and marry him after Farley’s death. This she found a particularly satisfying argument in favor of marrying him at once. Her histrionic sense responded to the suggestion of an elopement; it would be a great lark, besides bringing her deliverance from the iron hand of Farley. Yes; she would do it! Her pulses tingled as she visualized herself as the chief figure in an event that would stir the town. It was now four o’clock. Copeland had written that at five a messenger would call for her suit-case, and all she had to do was to step into his car when she came out of the church.
She was downstairs listening for the bell when the messenger rang. As she handed him the suit-case she felt herself already launched upon a great adventure. While she was at the door the afternoon paper arrived and she carried it up to Farley and read him the headlines.
She had her dinner with him in his room. There was a pathos in his lean frame, his deep-furrowed brow, in the restless, gnarled hands. She was not so happy over her plans as she had expected to be. She kept saying to herself that it wasn’t quite fair—not an honest return for all the kindnesses of her foster-parents—to run away and leave this broken old man. As she thought of it, every unkind word he had said to her had been merited; she had lied to him, disobeyed him, and tricked him.
“What’s the matter with your appetite, Nan?” he asked suddenly. “Seems to me you’ve looked a little peaked lately. Maybe you don’t get enough exercise now we’ve got the machine.”
“Oh, I’m perfectly well,” she replied hastily.
“Well, you’ve been cooped up here all summer. You’d better take a trip this winter. We’ll keep a lookout for somebody that’s goin’ South and get ’em to take you along.”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary, papa. I never felt better in my life.”
“Isn’t this the night for that Parish girl’s wedding?” he asked later.
“Yes; I thought I’d go,” she answered carelessly. “It’s at the Congregational Church, and I can go alone.”