Mr. Force, with hands on knees, bent forward and stared at the speaker.
“You—love—my—daughter!” he slowly repeated.
“Yes! I cannot help it. If it be a crime, I cannot help it! If I were to be shot for it, I could not help it!”
“But, man alive! she is only sixteen, and you must be near forty! Quite old enough to be her father!”
“Yes, quite! You are right, and that is the worst of it! And doubtless I am a fool! But there! I love her! I cannot help it, I say!”
“But, dear me, Anglesea, you know it is of no sort of use your loving Odalite. She is to marry her cousin, you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I am very sorry for this, Anglesea.”
“If it were only myself that is concerned I pledge you my word of honor that I would go away at once and bear my disappointment like a man. But, oh! Force, it is not only myself. I am not the only one whose happiness is at stake in this matter,” said the colonel, solemnly.
Mr. Force stared at him uneasily.