“Of course, you know what it means—Farley’s sudden affection for Fanny?”
“Oh, he used to see a good deal of her, didn’t he, when you were first married?”
“Mrs. Farley and Fanny exchanged a few calls and we were there for dinner once, while you were still away at school. But this is different; he’s throwing you with her for a purpose, as you ought to see. It does credit to the old man’s cunning. He thinks that if you become good friends with Fanny, he can be sure you’ve dropped me.”
“Rubbish! Papa has always liked her; he likes the kind of woman who can run a farm and make money out of it; he thinks she’s a good example for me!”
“Don’t let him fool you about that!” he said petulantly. “He’s an old Shylock and he’s about taken the last ounce out of me. Paying him that last twenty-five thousand has put me in a bad hole. And it’s pure vengeance. If he wasn’t afraid you were going to marry me, he would never have driven me so hard. He thinks if he can ruin me financially you’ll quit me for good. It was understood when I bought him out that he’d be easy about the payments. There’s a frame-up between him and Corbin & Eichberg to force me out of business. And he’s been calling some of the old employees up to see him, and encouraging Amidon to trot up there so he can worm things out of him. I don’t think he gets anything out of Jerry,” he added, taking warning of a resentful gleam in Nan’s eyes. “I think the boy’s loyal to me; in fact”—he grinned ruefully—“he’s full of an ambition to make a man of me! But you must see that it’s all a game to draw you away from me. Farley’s not the sort of man to waste time on a youngster like Amidon for nothing, and this throwing you in Fanny’s way is about as smooth a piece of work as I ever knew him to do.”
“You’re exaggerating, Billy; and as far as Jerry is concerned, papa likes him; he always takes an interest in poor boys. And the fact that Jerry came from down there on the river where he had his own early struggles probably makes him a little more sympathetic with him.”
“The old gentleman’s sympathies,” said Copeland, bending forward and meeting her gaze with a significant look, “are likely to cost you a whole lot of money, Nan.”
“Just how do you make that out, Billy?”
“All the hospitals and charitable concerns in town have been working on Farley to do something for them in his will, and I heard yesterday that he’s promised to do something big for the Boys’ Club people. You’ve probably seen Trumbull at the house a good deal—he’s the kind of fellow who’d make an impression on Farley. I got this from Kinney. He gave them some money last year and they put him on the board of directors. They’re all counting on something handsome from the old man. I assume he hasn’t told you anything about it; it wouldn’t be like him to! He means to die and let you find out just what his affection for you comes down to in dollars.”
“Well, he has a right to do what he likes with his money,” Nan replied slowly, repeating the phrase with which she had sought to console herself since the will fell into her hands. “I suppose he thinks he’s done enough for me.”