Ten Degrees Backward

by Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler

I straightway went in search of my darling, and found her curled up with a book on one of the settees by the hall fire.

"I have got such a glorious piece of news for you, sweetheart," I said, sitting down beside her and taking one of her dear hands in mine. "Annabel has consented to live with us after we are married, and to take all the trouble of managing the house off your hands. So that my little darling will have no housekeeping or servants to worry her, but will have nothing to do but enjoy herself and make love to her devoted husband."

Now one of Fay's most compelling charms was her infinite variety: she was a creature of a thousand moods—sometimes talkative, sometimes silent, sometimes sad, and sometimes merry—but never the same two hours together, and always utterly adorable. Her changes of mood had nothing to do with outer circumstances: they were the outcome of her own sweet variableness and versatility.

This morning she was evidently in a silent mood, for all she said was, "Oh!"

I expatiated upon the advantages of Annabel's permanent support. "You see, darling, it would have been an awful bother for you to have to do all the tiresome old things that Annabel does. She is so used to them that they are easy to her, but I couldn't have borne to see the burden of them laid on your dear shoulders."

"I dare say I could have learnt to do them all right." How like my darling not to spare herself in her readiness to serve me.

"So Annabel said, but I would not hear of it! Do you think that I am marrying you, you lovely wild elfin thing, in order to turn you into a staid housekeeper? It would be sacrilege to put so exquisite a creature to such ignoble uses!"

Fay did not reply, so I continued: "And it will be so nice for you too, dear heart, always to have a woman at hand to turn to in any trouble or difficulty."

"I shall have you, and that is all I want."

"But I am only a stupid man, and could never understand and help you as another woman could. I don't believe that any man is sufficiently fine and subtle properly to understand a woman: especially when there is such a difference between them in age, as there is, alas! between you and me."