“Then why, in the name of Heaven, could it not have been announced?”
“My dear Enderby—secrecy is not always wrong and foolish; it is sometimes wise and right. It was so in this instance. And I may further promise to satisfy you of this in a few hours.”
“When you married my sister, did you know that she had been married before, and that she had a living son by that first marriage?”
“Most certainly I did!” said Mr. Force, with emphasis.
“And yet I remember—I swear that I remember—she signed her name to her marriage register with you, Elfrida Glennon.”
“Hush! here comes Anglesea,” said the squire, as the general entered the room.
CHAPTER XLI
THE OTHER SIDE
“You are, of course, aware,” said the latter, sitting down at the table and beginning to arrange his papers before him—“you are, of course, aware of my own intimate connection with the very youthful marriage of my friends, Lady Elfrida Glennon and Prince Luigi Saviola?”
Mr. Force, thoroughly informed of that circumstance, could bow acquiescence. This assent was supposed to answer also for Lord Enderby—who, however, knew nothing about it—and the general continued:
“You know that at that time I was a very young man, scarcely having attained my majority. I had a warm friendship for, and a youthful sympathy with, the young lovers; yet I would have dissuaded Saviola from the hasty marriage if I could have done so. But who can turn an Italian lover from his love chase? Seeing that I could do nothing to prevent the marriage that was sure to come off, sooner or later—for her father was in the East, and her brother was at Eton, and a minor, and she herself only in the care of two teachers for whom she had neither love nor esteem—I determined to do a brother’s or a father’s part by her, at least so far as going with the mad pair and seeing that the marriage ceremony was duly and lawfully performed in Scotland. But you have heard all this before, and I am wasting time, perhaps, in trying to excuse myself.”