Both the gentlemen, who were seated, immediately arose.
Mr. Force presented his young relative to his guest.
The midshipman and the colonel bowed coldly and stiffly, while they eyed each other with ill-repressed antagonism.
“Who is ‘the most perfect woman in person, soul and spirit that ever was created’?” again queried Col. Anglesea, as the party seated themselves around the fire.
“My wife,” answered Abel Force.
Angus Anglesea threw back his head and laughed aloud—then recovering himself, said—to one who, unseen, had just joined the group: “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Force! I really could not help laughing, to hear your good husband praise you so—unconsciously—before your face! You know.”
“I did not know that Elfrida was there,” said Mr. Force, half offended at—he knew not what!—something that he vaguely perceived, but could not specify.
Mrs. Force had turned deadly pale, and her lips were compressed and her blue eyes glittering as she took her seat.
It was fortunate, at that moment, that Miss Meeke and the two younger girls entered the parlor, simultaneously with the ringing of the dinner bell.
Mrs. Force arose and took the arm of the young midshipman and led the way to the dining room, followed by the party.