"You said I was too old to make her happy."
"I couldn't possibly have ever said anything so utterly idiotic. You must be going off your head! Why, I think that to marry you would be the greatest happiness any woman could possibly have, and I don't believe that any woman living is worthy of it."
This, of course, was ridiculous sisterly exaggeration, and needed nipping in the bud. But I was too busy just then thinking about Fay to have time to nip Annabel. "You said I was too old for her," I persisted.
"I didn't. I said she was too young for you, which is quite a different thing. But I'll withdraw even that if you think she is necessary to your happiness."
"There is no doubt of that. The only question that matters is whether I am necessary to hers."
Annabel smiled her old, indulgent smile. "Oh, Reggie, how absurd you are. You don't seem to realise that the woman who marries you will be the luckiest woman on the face of the earth. And you really ought to marry; papa would have wished it; I am sure it would have been a dreadful disappointment to him if the baronetcy had died out. He had great ideas of founding a family."
"He would have adored Fay. I wish he could have lived to see her," I said softly, so softly that Annabel did not hear me.
"I know papa would have been pleased at your marrying; it is a great support to me to feel sure of that. But the thing that I care most for is your happiness, Reggie; I could never bear to feel that any words of mine have ever stood between you and your heart's desire, and if you feel certain that Fay will make you happy, by all means ask her to marry you."
"I do feel certain of that. She will make me happier than my wildest dreams."
Annabel turned to leave the room. "Had I been in your place," she remarked thoughtfully, "I should have selected a woman of my own age who would have known how to manage a large household and would have been an agreeable and sympathetic companion, looking at life from my own standpoint. But people know their own business best. And of course there are other considerations," she added, opening the door. "There's something to everything," she concluded, summing up with one terse and enigmatical sentence the great law of compensation as she closed the door behind her.