“None whatever,” replied Elfrida Force, answering for her daughter; “but after all that she has gone through, it is perfectly natural that a delicate and sensitive girl, like Odalite, should have felt ill at ease so long as her artful and unscrupulous enemy lived, and should feel a sense of relief at his departure.”
“I suppose so,” said Abel Force, who was scanning the first page of the Angleton paper. “And I suppose, also, that none of us exactly share ‘the profound gloom’ which, according to this sheet, ‘has spread like an eclipse over all the land, on the death of her illustrious son.’ The leading article here is on the death of Anglesea, with a brief sketch of his life and career, and such a high eulogium as should only have been pronounced upon the memory of some illustrious hero, martyr, Christian, or philanthropist. But, then, this Angleton paper was, of course, his own organ, and in his own interests, and in those of his family, or it would never have committed itself to such fulsome flatteries, even of the dead, whom it seems lawful to praise and justifiable to overpraise.”
“Read it, Abel,” said Mrs. Force.
“Yes, do, papa, dear,” added Odalite.
Mr. Force read:
“THE GREAT SOLDIER OF INDIA IS NO MORE
“A profound gloom, a vast pall of darkness, like some ‘huge eclipse of sun and moon,’ has fallen upon the land at the death of her illustrious son. Col. the Hon. Angus Anglesea died yesterday at his manor of Anglewood.
“The Hon. Angus Anglesea was born at Anglewood Manor, on November 21, 181—. He entered Eton at the early age of twelve years and Oxford at seventeen. He graduated with the highest honors, at the age of twenty-two. He succeeded his father on December 23, 182—. His tastes led him to a military career, and he entered the army as cornet in the Honorable East India Company’s service, in his twenty-fifth year. His distinguished military talents, his heroism and gallantry, his invaluable services during the Indian campaign, are matters that have passed into national history; and become so familiar to all that it would be impertinent to attempt to recapitulate them here.
“Col. Anglesea married, firstly, on October 13, 184—, Lady Mary Merland, eldest daughter of the sixth Earl of Middlemoor; by whom he has one son, Alexander, born September 1, 184—, now at Eton. Her ladyship died August 31, 185—. Col. Anglesea married, secondly, December 20, 185—, Odalite, eldest daughter of Abel Force, Esq., of Mondreer, Maryland, United States, by Lady Elfrida Glennon, eldest daughter of the late Earl of Enderby, who survives him. There is no issue by the second marriage.”
Abel Force finished reading, dropped the paper and stared at his wife and daughter, who were also staring at him. All three seemed struck dumb with astonishment at the audacity of the last paragraph.