Posted on Monday, 15 October 2007

‘Darn the woman, but she is right,' muttered Sir Frederick Wentworth to himself when he came in at night. ‘Darn her if I tell her!' He made straight for the stairway, not wanting to go in so soon where he could not govern his temper nor hide his confusion.

‘Excuse me, Frederick'. Lady Wentworth appeared in the doorway, quiet and dignified, ‘is something the matter?' She watched her husband's stiff and jerky movements with some amusement.

‘Nothing to worry about, Anne, I'll be down in a minute.'

He seemed more composed when he joined her later in the drawing room. He had changed for dinner and refreshed himself. His wife looked at him expectantly but he merely extended his arm. ‘Shall we go in, my dear?' Anne took his arm and together they went in for dinner.

Dinner was a quiet affair nowadays. It was just the two of them. Gone were the days when the rooms and hallways rang with laughter of the girls, when dinners never were quiet but joyful happy family gatherings. First the girls would bring their friends, later they invited their fiancés and now they would come over with their families only for Thanksgiving, Christmas and the birthdays.

Over the years Frederick's hair had thinned, he had gained weight but his eyes still glowed when he saw his wife. Grey-haired and a mere slip of a woman - despite having given birth to five healthy daughters- , she could hold her ground in any dispute, quietly, unassumingly. Her word carried much weight with him and for her convenience he would do anything. That was why he had overcome himself and paid a visit to an old friend.

All the girls but the youngest had married -- and they had married well. Five daughters -- four settled for life. It was about the youngest girl -- very much like her mother in looks, very much like him in temper -- that he had paid Lady Russell a visit.

‘Darn the woman,' he muttered crossly and picked his food.

‘Frederick, what is the matter?' Anne laid down her knife and watched him with growing concern. ‘Where have you been this afternoon?'

Frederick put down his knife and fork with some deliberation. ‘I went to see Lady Russell. No, she is quite alright, nothing to worry about', he added quickly when he saw an alarmed look on his dear wife's face. ‘It was about Emma,' he finished casually, as if it was the order of the day to consult Lady Russell about his twenty-two year old youngest.

Anne waited. When he failed to continue she did. ‘Have you consulted her on matrimonial matters?'

Frederick looked up from his plate. ‘I have', he simply said.

‘And have you received sound advice?'

‘Hardly. Before I could put the facts concerning Emma's engagement before her and list all the reasons why Em shouldn't marry the man, she told me to talk it over with you. "Never meddle in the affairs of the heart, Frederick, never. I learnt that lesson thirty years ago."'

Anne smiled. ‘I'd say that was sound advice. Did you really expect her to counsel Em exactly the way she counseled me thirty years ago?'

Frederick pondered this question for a while. At last he said ‘Of course not. I merely wanted her opinion, that's all'.

His wife watched him with a smile. ‘My dear, what an enigma you are. First you blame Lady Russell for giving advice, now you blame her for....'

She couldn't finish her sentence. Frederick had his fork halfway to his mouth and looked her straight in the eyes. ‘Darn the woman, but she is right!'

The End