The Lifting of a Finger/Chapter 8

MRS. WESTLAKE'S carriage rolled away, and her husband went back to the library and the book and easy-chair he had left. Mr. Westlake loved solitude and study, and Mrs. Westlake, unlike most young wives with social aspirations, did not drag him about with her except on occasions when his absence could not be excused.

On this evening he had scarcely settled himself comfortably when his brother-in-law was shown into the room. The two men had not met since the night of Mrs. Westlake's dance, but Francis greeted the older man as though they had parted the best of friends.

​"Good-evening, Jim," he said genially.

"Frank," replied his brother-in-law, "I thought I told you——"

"You did," interrupted Bellamy. "You told me, very dramatically and with the dignity that is so becoming to you, not to darken your doors again. I haven't been here but once since, and my errand to-night will, I think, excuse my presence."

Mr. Westlake listened with a grave face. His voice when he spoke was stern, but there lurked in it a note which told that he regretted the necessity for the sternness. Before his marriage he and Bellamy had hunted together in the West, and he had found the man who was so discreditable a member of civilized society a most trustworthy companion in the solitude of the forest.

​"Sit down, Frank," he said, "and tell me what you came for. And be straight-forward about it; don't talk so much nonsense."

Bellamy took a chair, an easy one. "To-morrow night is the time set for the payment of that wager," he remarked.

Mr. Westlake's face darkened. "Well?" he said.

"I came to ask you to write notes to the men who heard the wager made, asking them to come here and see the finish of the affair."

This speech seemed to leave Mr. Westlake with no words to say, but his face, as he rose to his feet and gazed down at his brother-in-law, was expressive.

"Don't look at me like that," cried ​Francis, laughing and putting up a protesting hand; "you make me feel the size of your little finger."

Bellamy's host went slowly back to his seat. "You must be mad to make such a request," he said. "As you did not choose to respect my wishes, I was powerless to prevent the making of that wager, but do you suppose I shall have anything further to do with it? I don't know how you intend to get out of it; I know you too well to hope you will do what is right, but I tell you this—if you drag that girl's name in the dust by any trickery, I'll tell Jack Winthrop, and he'll thrash you within an inch of your life. I can't do it myself because of Alice."

Francis laughed, a laugh of genuine amusement, and going over to the fire​place leaned nonchalantly against the mantel. "I scarcely think Winthrop will thrash me," he said pleasantly. "In the first place, he's not big enough; in the second, it would not be in good taste for him to try, considering the fact that he is to be best man at my wedding."

"Best man!—at your wedding!" repeated Mr. Westlake. "You are going to be married?"

"I am going to marry Miss Margaret Winthrop."

Mr. Westlake sprang from his seat and faced his visitor. "Now I see through your infamous plan," he cried. "Knowing there was no chance of winning your wager by fair means, you have, by engaging yourself to that poor girl, obtained permission to kiss her, and ​after you have gratified your taste for amusement at someone else's expense, you intend to make Miss Winthrop's unfortunate position still worse by throwing her over."

"What a brain you have, to see so far ahead. You should have been a diplomat."

Bellamy's host controlled himself with difficulty; his hands worked convulsively and his voice was choked with passion. "Have you no manhood at all in you that you can think out such a devilish scheme?" he was beginning, when his anger burst all bounds. His efforts at self-restraint ceased, and he flew at the other's throat, exclaiming: "By God! you shall not do it. You make me forget that Alice loves you."

Westlake was a powerfully built man, ​and had been at one time a match for Bellamy, but since his marriage he had taken little active interest in athletics, and now Francis had no difficulty in shaking him off. This he did quickly, yet gently too, as if he did not wish to hurt him. When Westlake had released his hold Francis stepped back to his position by the mantel.

"Can you cash a check for a thousand dollars?" he asked calmly. "I wouldn't trouble you, but I shall be too busy to-morrow to go to the bank, and I'd rather give that Hatfield boy the money."

"You are going to pay that wager?" uttered Mr. Westlake incredulously.

"I am," answered Francis. "Can I not always be depended on to do the unexpected thing?" he added lightly.

​In a mechanical fashion Mr. Westlake moved towards the safe at the other side of the room.

"You see now, Jim," Bellamy remarked after he had filled out a check at his brother-in-law's desk, "why I asked you to allow the wager to be settled here. For Miss Winthrop's sake I want all those men present, and you know they would not come to my rooms."

"What is to become of Miss Winthrop, with this affair on everybody's tongue?"

"As I told you before, she is going to marry me."

"In God's name, why?"

Francis shrugged his shoulders. "I have not asked her that," he said, smiling. "But do you think I'm such ​a bad match? I'm rich enough, surely, and I'm not ugly to look at."

"I think, of all the men I know, you are the one best fitted to make a woman's life miserable."

For a moment the smile left Bellamy's face. "I doubt if anyone could make Miss Winthrop more miserable than she is now," he said gravely. "How about those notes?" he added in another tone.

Mr. Westlake sat down at his desk. "I sometimes think, Frank," he said, "that you were put into the world for no other purpose than to give pain and annoyance to those unfortunate enough to come in contact with you. What shall I say to these men?"

"You might say," responded Francis, "'Mr. James Westlake presents his compliments to Mr. Robert Stanton, ​and requests his presence at a wager party.' Seriously, Jim, say what you like. You need not write to Hatfield; I will send him a note myself."

"You are the only person outside of Miss Winthrop's immediate family who knows of this engagement," Bellamy said an hour or so later when the notes were written and he had slipped them into his pocket to mail after he left the house. "We decided to keep it quiet until the invitations came out; we want to startle her friends. I wonder whether Alice will be pleased?"

"When is the wedding to be?" inquired Westlake.

"The first of June."

"What do Miss Winthrop's parents think of her engagement?" the older man asked as soon as he had recovered ​somewhat from the shock this announcement caused him.

"Well, they didn't exactly welcome me with open arms," confessed Francis, smiling, "but they are putting the best face possible upon what they cannot help. You see, Miss Winthrop has a will of her own, and she is determined to marry me."

"And after she has married you, what then?" questioned Mr. Westlake with the air of a judge. "How do you intend to treat her?"

Bellamy paused on his way to the door to answer, "I intend to let her severely alone."

"That will be the greatest kindness you can do her," replied Mr. Westlake.

"I realize that," said the other man. "Good-night."