"It is a terrible shock! a terrible shock! Have you spoken to her mother?"

"Yes; but she very properly referred me to you."

There was a pause of some moments, during which Mr. Force arose from his seat and walked uneasily up and down the whole length of the drawing room several times. Finally he stopped before the colonel, and said:

"Anglesea, this has been so sudden--so utterly unexpected--that I feel bewildered by it all. I cannot trust myself to give you an answer this morning. I must have a talk with her mother--yes, and with herself. I must try and get at the bottom of this change of sentiment in my daughter. I must leave you now."

"I thank you, Force, for the indulgence with which you have heard me. I feel like a very villain to have come into your house, accepted your princely hospitality and used the opportunity and abused the trust so viciously as to have won the heart of your daughter, and to have disappointed all your cherished hopes of another alliance for her. All I can say is----"

"Say no more, my dear Anglesea. These things cannot be prevented. 'The demands of the heart are absolute.' The fault--the presumption--was mine, in daring to think that any human being could make a match for another. In daring to try to make a match between my daughter and her cousin merely to gratify my ambition of sending the family name down to posterity with the family estate. There should be no 'parental' or other interference in such sacred matters. You and my daughter have become attached to each other. It is enough. I must speak to her mother, and, if need be, we must both bear our disappointment as we best can."

"But, my dear Force, if you feel this so deeply, there need be no final disappointment. Your fair daughter is very young. She may soon be able to forget me in the attractive society of some other and more favored suitor.

As for me, I can go away; and though it is not likely that one of my age, loving for the first time in my life, will ever be able to forget my love, yet I hope I am man enough to bear my sorrow without complaint. Come, my kind host, the case is really at your disposal," said the colonel, with an air of frank generosity that would have deceived an angel.

"You are a n.o.ble fellow, Anglesea! A n.o.ble, open-minded fellow! I must consider my daughter. I must consider my daughter! And I have no doubt that this affair will end as you wish."

"You are really too good--too self-sacrificing! I, too, should consider your dear daughter's welfare above all other interests. But, see here, Force, in the event of my ever becoming the happy husband of your eldest child, what should there be to hinder me from taking the family name? I am the younger son of such a long line of younger sons that the marquisate must be at least a hundred removes from me, or I from the marquisate, whichever you like. So your cherished hope may yet be fulfilled in me."

"You are generous, Anglesea! I had not thought of such a concession from you. I should not have presumed to suggest it."

"What possible concession would I not make in order not only to win the daughter, but to satisfy the father?"

"Thank you, thank you, Anglesea! I will speak to you further on the subject when I have conferred with my wife. There is my horse," he said, glancing through the front window, "and I must be off now to meet my engagement. Good-morning."

And Mr. Force warmly shook the hand of his guest, and left the room.

He paused in the front hall for a few moments, and seemed to fumble a good deal with his overcoat, gloves and hat before he finally appeared on the outside equipped for his journey.

Then he hastily threw himself into his saddle, and rode off, attended by his mounted groom.

Col. Anglesea walked leisurely down to the stables, chose a horse to his mind, ordered him to be saddled and brought up to the house, and then he returned to prepare himself for a "const.i.tutional" gallop along the highroad.

Mrs. Force confined herself to her own room that day.

Odalite walked out into the woods, and then down to the seash.o.r.e, followed by her faithful companion, Joshua.

The two younger children remained shut up in the schoolroom with Miss Meeke, diligently preparing for their home examination, that was to earn for them, if satisfactorily pa.s.sed, many Christmas premiums and a long Christmas holiday.

And so the bright and kindly winter day pa.s.sed.

When Col. Anglesea came home to dinner he found only Miss Meeke and the two little girls in the dining room.

Miss Meeke apologized for the absence of the ladies, pleading that Mrs.

Force was suffering from indisposition, and that Miss Force was attending her; and with this explanation the governess took the head of the table.

Col. Anglesea politely expressed his regret, and then made himself as agreeable as possible to the remaining party.

It was so very late when Mr. Force returned that, finding the family had already taken tea, he declined the refreshment offered by Miss Meeke, and pleading fatigue, excused himself and retired, expressing his satisfaction, however, that the trial which had occupied so much of his time was at length happily concluded.

CHAPTER X

HUSBAND AND WIFE

Mr. Force was not obliged to ride to town the next day, for which he was thankful.

All the family met around the breakfast table in high spirits, with the exception of Mrs. Force and her daughter, Odalite, both of whom were pale and almost silent, trying to overcome their depression of spirits and to take a lively part in the conversation, but failing signally.

Col. Anglesea kept the ball rolling, however, by talking gayly to Miss Meeke, Wynnette and Elva, and sometimes gravely to Mr. Force or others.

Mr. Force watched his wife and daughter very anxiously, and drew his own conclusions from the false premises laid down by Col. Anglesea.

"My dear wife is troubled about Odalite, and Odalite is troubled about herself. They both think that I shall forbid the attentions of Anglesea, and insist on the claims of Leonidas Force. Strange that my dear ones should imagine that I, of all people, could forbid anything they wish, or insist on anything they dislike. I must set their dear hearts at ease without delay."

Immediately after breakfast, leaving the other members of the family to disperse and pursue their various avocations, he followed his wife into her sitting room, where he found her at her worktable, in her usual corner between the fireplace and the side window.

He closed the door, turned the key, and came and sat beside her.

She looked up in his face uneasily.

He took her hand gently within his own and said:

"Elfrida, dear, why can't you trust me? Why have you troubled yourself for days with a question that should have been settled satisfactorily on its first arising? Tell me."

She started slightly, and looked at him intently.

Had he discovered anything? Did he suspect anything?

But no! The honest black eyes fixed on hers had no expression but perfect love and faith.

"Why didn't you tell me, wife, that Odalite had given her heart to Anglesea? Did you think that I was so selfish as to sacrifice my own child--your child--to my private ambition? No, Elfrida! No, dear! Never think so hardly of me."

She could not reply. She burst into tears, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed convulsively.

"Don't! Don't, Elfrida! You distress yourself with thinking that I am disappointed in my plans for our dear girl. But I am not, really. It came upon me quite suddenly, you see, and I was not prepared for the thought of such a change. And so, you see, just at first, perhaps, I might have expressed more feeling of disappointment at the time than the matter justified. And----Well, I suppose Anglesea has told you, and you distress yourself on my account."

"Anglesea has told me nothing that pa.s.sed in his interview with you, dear Abel. Indeed, we have not exchanged a word on the subject since he spoke to you of it," said Mrs. Force, trying to suppress her sobs and calm her emotion.

"Then why should you grieve so, dear? I am really not so much disappointed, after all; for, indeed, Anglesea behaved in such a frank, n.o.ble, generous manner, confessing the whole case to me, telling me how they--himself and Odalite--drifted into this attachment unawares, until it was too late to recede; and how, when he perceived that he loved her with all his heart and soul, he would have gone away rather than have sought to win her from the youth her parents had chosen for her husband; but how, when he discovered that his love was returned by her, he felt himself bound as a man of honor to declare his affection and offer her his hand, subject to her father's approval."

"He--told you this?" demanded the lady, in a husky tone, turning away her head to conceal the look of scorn and hatred she could not entirely suppress.

"Yes, dear! he told me this; and then--he left the case in my hands with perfect submission. Could any action have been more manly and straightforward? And she, too--Heaven bless her, she, too! She sent me word, through him, that though her heart was fixed on Angus Anglesea, yet she submitted herself entirely to my will, and would obey my commands. Did ever father have such a daughter, so gentle, so dutiful, so obedient as Odalite? Or did ever girl have such a lover, so n.o.ble, generous and magnanimous as Anglesea? Why--fine fellow--he felt for my disappointment as if it had been his own; and he exaggerated it, as I have told you! And he offered--dear fellow--to merge his own name in ours, so that my cherished wish to send the patronymic down with the estate might be carried out."

"But that will not be necessary," said the lady, recovering from her emotion, and with a grim smile arising out of her own thoughts.