“Good-day, then.”
“Good-day. I wish you a pleasant ride.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Force. And he left the room.
Anglesea kept his seat, and waited for the entrance of Mrs. Force.
There was her workstand, her workbox, her easy-chair and her footstool, in their cozy corner between the open fire and the side window, but she did not come to occupy them.
He knew at length that she was voluntarily absenting herself, in order to avoid a tête-à-tête with him, to which, if she should come into the sitting room at this time of day, she would be obliged to subject herself, for at this hour all the children were in the schoolroom with their governess, and Odalite with them, helping their German lesson.
As soon as Col. Anglesea divined the reason of Mrs. Force’s absence he resolved to lay a trap for her and catch her.
So he went out into the hall, loudly called on one of the men servants to saddle a horse for him, saying he was going to ride to the post office, made a great fuss putting on his overcoat, cap and gloves, and finally, when the horse was brought around to the door, threw himself into the saddle, and galloped away with so much clatter and bang that the lady, wherever she might be lurking, could not fail to hear and know that he had left the house.
And she did not fail to hear and know it; but she was so astonished at the unusual noise and confusion he made that she asked herself a question which she would not have asked another:
“Is the man intoxicated at this early hour of the morning, that he behaves in this very disorderly manner? Well, I am glad he is gone. I hope it is for all day.”