"And of course I'd no idea that things would turn out as they have," Annabel continued, "or else I should have tried to dissuade you much more strongly than I did. It would have been my duty to do so. Just as it would be your duty to do anything you could to prevent me from marrying Mr. Blath--Arthur, if you thought there was any probability of his running off to Australia and going on to the stage." I was again able to take my oath that I apprehended no such dangers. "But do you love him?" I added. "That is the main thing." "Well, I should hardly like to apply such a term as 'love' to the feelings of a woman of my age, but I must admit that I am sincerely attached to Arthur, and have the greatest respect for his character. And I must also admit that the lot he asks me to share presents the greatest attractions to me. I don't wish to appear conceited, but I do think that I am rather wasted on a small place like this, just as Arthur is. I mean there is more work in me than Restham requires." "You mean that, like Mrs. Figshaw's daughter, you also want a 'scoop'?" "A _scope_, Reggie: that is what I do mean. I love arranging things, and I've arranged and planned and organised here till there's nothing left to plan or arrange or organise. And we shan't be far off--only about an hour's ride in the car; so that you can always come over and consult me about anything, and I can come over here constantly and keep my eye on your servants. I really don't see that with me within an hour's motor-ride they can go very far wrong." "Nor do I. Moreover, Ponty's eye is almost as all-seeing as yours." "Of course," added Annabel thoughtfully, "Mr. Blathwayte, I mean Arthur, is five years younger than I am: but if he doesn't mind that, I don't see why you should." "I don't," I hastened to assure her: "that is nobody's business but his and yours. And the experience of life has taught me that there are distinct disadvantages to a woman in having a husband older than herself. But, Annabel," I added, getting up from my seat and going across to where she sat and laying my hand on her shoulder, "although I am naturally surprised at what you have told me, and am very sorry to lose you, I am very glad as well: for I am sure it would be impossible for any woman to have a better husband than old Arthur. I hope you will be very happy, and, what is more, I am sure you will." "Thank you, Reggie: and as for leaving you I feel I can do it more easily now than I could before you were married. I'm nothing like so necessary to you now as I was then." I hastened to disclaim this accusation; but underneath my disclaimer I was haunted by a lurking consciousness that Annabel's common sense had, as usual, hit the mark. She was not as necessary to my happiness as she had been before my marriage: nobody was, except Fay, and I feared that she was lost to me for ever.