He was unusually smart in appearance, Ben noticed.
"Tell me quickly," she said.
"It's in this cable," said the Colonel. "Merrill's husband."
Ben read the message, which stated that the Rev. Egbert Bourne had died of pneumonia in Minneapolis a day or so before.
"Merrill's got to be told," said the Colonel.
"Of course," said Ben. "You'll go down at once, won't you?" She reached for the "A.B.C."
"Well, the fact is," said the Colonel, "I can't. Most unfortunate, but I've got an old engagement for to-day and I can't get out of it. One of those postponed things which it's idiotic to put off any more. For three years now I've promised to go to Ascot and each time something has occurred."
"But surely Belle wouldn't mind—considering everything," said Ben.
"Belle?" replied her father. "Oh, yes! But it isn't Belle. Belle doesn't care about racing. It's Lady Dunster. I should take Belle too, of course, if she wanted; feel it my duty to; but she doesn't care about racing, and it would be too absurd to disappoint Lady Dunster again. On such a fine day, too. And, after all, it isn't as if he died here. All those thousands of miles away! So I thought you'd be the good, kind girl you always are and just nip down to Astingham. I don't think it will be so very painful. Merrill never seemed to me to care much for him."