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diff --git a/old/2012-03-29-2559-h.zip b/old/2012-03-29-2559-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3daab9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2012-03-29-2559-h.zip diff --git a/old/2012-03-29-2559.zip b/old/2012-03-29-2559.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..86053d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2012-03-29-2559.zip diff --git a/old/23092004.2559.txt b/old/23092004.2559.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f127ac5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/23092004.2559.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13477 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man of Property, by John Galsworthy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Man of Property + The Forsyte Saga, Part 1. + +Author: John Galsworthy + +Release Date: September 23, 2004 [EBook #2559] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN OF PROPERTY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger +Proofing of a previous edition by Fredrik Hausmann + + + + + +[NOTE: The spelling conforms to the original: "s's" instead of our +"z's"; and "c's" where we would have "s's"; and "...our" as in colour +and flavour; many interesting double consonants; etc.] + + + + +FORSYTE SAGA + +I. THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +By John Galsworthy + + +VOLUME I +TO MY WIFE: + + I DEDICATE THE FORSYTE SAGA IN ITS ENTIRETY, + BELIEVING IT TO BE OF ALL MY WORKS THE LEAST + UNWORTHY OF ONE WITHOUT WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT, + SYMPATHY AND CRITICISM I COULD NEVER HAVE + BECOME EVEN SUCH A WRITER AS I AM. + + + + +PREFACE: + +"The Forsyte Saga" was the title originally destined for that part of it +which is called "The Man of Property"; and to adopt it for the collected +chronicles of the Forsyte family has indulged the Forsytean tenacity that +is in all of us. The word Saga might be objected to on the ground that +it connotes the heroic and that there is little heroism in these pages. +But it is used with a suitable irony; and, after all, this long tale, +though it may deal with folk in frock coats, furbelows, and a gilt-edged +period, is not devoid of the essential heat of conflict. Discounting for +the gigantic stature and blood-thirstiness of old days, as they have come +down to us in fairy-tale and legend, the folk of the old Sagas were +Forsytes, assuredly, in their possessive instincts, and as little proof +against the inroads of beauty and passion as Swithin, Soames, or even +Young Jolyon. And if heroic figures, in days that never were, seem to +startle out from their surroundings in fashion unbecoming to a Forsyte of +the Victorian era, we may be sure that tribal instinct was even then the +prime force, and that "family" and the sense of home and property counted +as they do to this day, for all the recent efforts to "talk them out." + +So many people have written and claimed that their families were the +originals of the Forsytes that one has been almost encouraged to believe +in the typicality of an imagined species. Manners change and modes +evolve, and "Timothy's on the Bayswater Road" becomes a nest of the +unbelievable in all except essentials; we shall not look upon its like +again, nor perhaps on such a one as James or Old Jolyon. And yet the +figures of Insurance Societies and the utterances of Judges reassure us +daily that our earthly paradise is still a rich preserve, where the wild +raiders, Beauty and Passion, come stealing in, filching security from +beneath our noses. As surely as a dog will bark at a brass band, so will +the essential Soames in human nature ever rise up uneasily against the +dissolution which hovers round the folds of ownership. + +"Let the dead Past bury its dead" would be a better saying if the Past +ever died. The persistence of the Past is one of those tragi-comic +blessings which each new age denies, coming cocksure on to the stage to +mouth its claim to a perfect novelty. + +But no Age is so new as that! Human Nature, under its changing +pretensions and clothes, is and ever will be very much of a Forsyte, and +might, after all, be a much worse animal. + +Looking back on the Victorian era, whose ripeness, decline, and 'fall-of' +is in some sort pictured in "The Forsyte Saga," we see now that we have +but jumped out of a frying-pan into a fire. It would be difficult to +substantiate a claim that the case of England was better in 1913 than it +was in 1886, when the Forsytes assembled at Old Jolyon's to celebrate the +engagement of June to Philip Bosinney. And in 1920, when again the clan +gathered to bless the marriage of Fleur with Michael Mont, the state of +England is as surely too molten and bankrupt as in the eighties it was +too congealed and low-percented. If these chronicles had been a really +scientific study of transition one would have dwelt probably on such +factors as the invention of bicycle, motor-car, and flying-machine; the +arrival of a cheap Press; the decline of country life and increase of the +towns; the birth of the Cinema. Men are, in fact, quite unable to control +their own inventions; they at best develop adaptability to the new +conditions those inventions create. + +But this long tale is no scientific study of a period; it is rather an +intimate incarnation of the disturbance that Beauty effects in the lives +of men. + +The figure of Irene, never, as the reader may possibly have observed, +present, except through the senses of other characters, is a concretion +of disturbing Beauty impinging on a possessive world. + +One has noticed that readers, as they wade on through the salt waters of +the Saga, are inclined more and more to pity Soames, and to think that in +doing so they are in revolt against the mood of his creator. Far from +it! He, too, pities Soames, the tragedy of whose life is the very +simple, uncontrollable tragedy of being unlovable, without quite a thick +enough skin to be thoroughly unconscious of the fact. Not even Fleur +loves Soames as he feels he ought to be loved. But in pitying Soames, +readers incline, perhaps, to animus against Irene: After all, they think, +he wasn't a bad fellow, it wasn't his fault; she ought to have forgiven +him, and so on! + +And, taking sides, they lose perception of the simple truth, which +underlies the whole story, that where sex attraction is utterly and +definitely lacking in one partner to a union, no amount of pity, or +reason, or duty, or what not, can overcome a repulsion implicit in +Nature. Whether it ought to, or no, is beside the point; because in fact +it never does. And where Irene seems hard and cruel, as in the Bois de +Boulogne, or the Goupenor Gallery, she is but wisely realistic--knowing +that the least concession is the inch which precedes the impossible, the +repulsive ell. + +A criticism one might pass on the last phase of the Saga is the complaint +that Irene and Jolyon those rebels against property--claim spiritual +property in their son Jon. But it would be hypercriticism, as the tale +is told. No father and mother could have let the boy marry Fleur without +knowledge of the facts; and the facts determine Jon, not the persuasion +of his parents. Moreover, Jolyon's persuasion is not on his own account, +but on Irene's, and Irene's persuasion becomes a reiterated: "Don't think +of me, think of yourself!" That Jon, knowing the facts, can realise his +mother's feelings, will hardly with justice be held proof that she is, +after all, a Forsyte. + +But though the impingement of Beauty and the claims of Freedom on a +possessive world are the main prepossessions of the Forsyte Saga, it +cannot be absolved from the charge of embalming the upper-middle class. +As the old Egyptians placed around their mummies the necessaries of a +future existence, so I have endeavoured to lay beside the, figures of +Aunts Ann and Juley and Hester, of Timothy and Swithin, of Old Jolyon and +James, and of their sons, that which shall guarantee them a little life +here-after, a little balm in the hurried Gilead of a dissolving +"Progress." + +If the upper-middle class, with other classes, is destined to "move on" +into amorphism, here, pickled in these pages, it lies under glass for +strollers in the wide and ill-arranged museum of Letters. Here it rests, +preserved in its own juice: The Sense of Property. +1922. + + + + +THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +by JOHN GALSWORTHY + + + + +"........ You will answer +The slaves are ours ....." + +--Merchant of Venice. + + + + +TO EDWARD GARNETT + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +'AT HOME' AT OLD JOLYON'S + +Those privileged to be present at a family festival of the Forsytes have +seen that charming and instructive sight--an upper middle-class family in +full plumage. But whosoever of these favoured persons has possessed the +gift of psychological analysis (a talent without monetary value and +properly ignored by the Forsytes), has witnessed a spectacle, not only +delightful in itself, but illustrative of an obscure human problem. In +plainer words, he has gleaned from a gathering of this family--no branch +of which had a liking for the other, between no three members of whom +existed anything worthy of the name of sympathy--evidence of that +mysterious concrete tenacity which renders a family so formidable a unit +of society, so clear a reproduction of society in miniature. He has been +admitted to a vision of the dim roads of social progress, has understood +something of patriarchal life, of the swarmings of savage hordes, of the +rise and fall of nations. He is like one who, having watched a tree grow +from its planting--a paragon of tenacity, insulation, and success, amidst +the deaths of a hundred other plants less fibrous, sappy, and +persistent--one day will see it flourishing with bland, full foliage, in +an almost repugnant prosperity, at the summit of its efflorescence. + +On June 15, eighteen eighty-six, about four of the afternoon, the +observer who chanced to be present at the house of old Jolyon Forsyte in +Stanhope Gate, might have seen the highest efflorescence of the Forsytes. + +This was the occasion of an 'at home' to celebrate the engagement of Miss +June Forsyte, old Jolyon's granddaughter, to Mr. Philip Bosinney. In the +bravery of light gloves, buff waistcoats, feathers and frocks, the family +were present, even Aunt Ann, who now but seldom left the corner of her +brother Timothy's green drawing-room, where, under the aegis of a plume +of dyed pampas grass in a light blue vase, she sat all day reading and +knitting, surrounded by the effigies of three generations of Forsytes. +Even Aunt Ann was there; her inflexible back, and the dignity of her calm +old face personifying the rigid possessiveness of the family idea. + +When a Forsyte was engaged, married, or born, the Forsytes were present; +when a Forsyte died--but no Forsyte had as yet died; they did not die; +death being contrary to their principles, they took precautions against +it, the instinctive precautions of highly vitalized persons who resent +encroachments on their property. + +About the Forsytes mingling that day with the crowd of other guests, +there was a more than ordinarily groomed look, an alert, inquisitive +assurance, a brilliant respectability, as though they were attired in +defiance of something. The habitual sniff on the face of Soames Forsyte +had spread through their ranks; they were on their guard. + +The subconscious offensiveness of their attitude has constituted old +Jolyon's 'home' the psychological moment of the family history, made it +the prelude of their drama. + +The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but as a +family; this resentment expressed itself in an added perfection of +raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an exaggeration of family +importance, and--the sniff. Danger--so indispensable in bringing out the +fundamental quality of any society, group, or individual--was what the +Forsytes scented; the premonition of danger put a burnish on their +armour. For the first time, as a family, they appeared to have an +instinct of being in contact, with some strange and unsafe thing. + +Over against the piano a man of bulk and stature was wearing two +waistcoats on his wide chest, two waistcoats and a ruby pin, instead of +the single satin waistcoat and diamond pin of more usual occasions, and +his shaven, square, old face, the colour of pale leather, with pale eyes, +had its most dignified look, above his satin stock. This was Swithin +Forsyte. Close to the window, where he could get more than his fair +share of fresh air, the other twin, James--the fat and the lean of it, +old Jolyon called these brothers--like the bulky Swithin, over six feet +in height, but very lean, as though destined from his birth to strike a +balance and maintain an average, brooded over the scene with his +permanent stoop; his grey eyes had an air of fixed absorption in some +secret worry, broken at intervals by a rapid, shifting scrutiny of +surrounding facts; his cheeks, thinned by two parallel folds, and a long, +clean-shaven upper lip, were framed within Dundreary whiskers. In his +hands he turned and turned a piece of china. Not far off, listening to a +lady in brown, his only son Soames, pale and well-shaved, dark-haired, +rather bald, had poked his chin up sideways, carrying his nose with that +aforesaid appearance of 'sniff,' as though despising an egg which he knew +he could not digest. Behind him his cousin, the tall George, son of the +fifth Forsyte, Roger, had a Quilpish look on his fleshy face, pondering +one of his sardonic jests. Something inherent to the occasion had +affected them all. + +Seated in a row close to one another were three ladies--Aunts Ann, +Hester (the two Forsyte maids), and Juley (short for Julia), who not in +first youth had so far forgotten herself as to marry Septimus Small, a +man of poor constitution. She had survived him for many years. With her +elder and younger sister she lived now in the house of Timothy, her sixth +and youngest brother, on the Bayswater Road. Each of these ladies held +fans in their hands, and each with some touch of colour, some emphatic +feather or brooch, testified to the solemnity of the opportunity. + +In the centre of the room, under the chandelier, as became a host, stood +the head of the family, old Jolyon himself. Eighty years of age, with +his fine, white hair, his dome-like forehead, his little, dark grey eyes, +and an immense white moustache, which drooped and spread below the level +of his strong jaw, he had a patriarchal look, and in spite of lean cheeks +and hollows at his temples, seemed master of perennial youth. He held +himself extremely upright, and his shrewd, steady eyes had lost none of +their clear shining. Thus he gave an impression of superiority to the +doubts and dislikes of smaller men. Having had his own way for +innumerable years, he had earned a prescriptive right to it. It would +never have occurred to old Jolyon that it was necessary to wear a look of +doubt or of defiance. + +Between him and the four other brothers who were present, James, Swithin, +Nicholas, and Roger, there was much difference, much similarity. In +turn, each of these four brothers was very different from the other, yet +they, too, were alike. + +Through the varying features and expression of those five faces could be +marked a certain steadfastness of chin, underlying surface distinctions, +marking a racial stamp, too prehistoric to trace, too remote and +permanent to discuss--the very hall-mark and guarantee of the family +fortunes. + +Among the younger generation, in the tall, bull-like George, in pallid +strenuous Archibald, in young Nicholas with his sweet and tentative +obstinacy, in the grave and foppishly determined Eustace, there was this +same stamp--less meaningful perhaps, but unmistakable--a sign of +something ineradicable in the family soul. At one time or another during +the afternoon, all these faces, so dissimilar and so alike, had worn an +expression of distrust, the object of which was undoubtedly the man whose +acquaintance they were thus assembled to make. Philip Bosinney was known +to be a young man without fortune, but Forsyte girls had become engaged +to such before, and had actually married them. It was not altogether for +this reason, therefore, that the minds of the Forsytes misgave them. +They could not have explained the origin of a misgiving obscured by the +mist of family gossip. A story was undoubtedly told that he had paid his +duty call to Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester, in a soft grey hat--a soft +grey hat, not even a new one--a dusty thing with a shapeless crown. "So, +extraordinary, my dear--so odd," Aunt Hester, passing through the little, +dark hall (she was rather short-sighted), had tried to 'shoo' it off a +chair, taking it for a strange, disreputable cat--Tommy had such +disgraceful friends! She was disturbed when it did not move. + +Like an artist for ever seeking to discover the significant trifle which +embodies the whole character of a scene, or place, or person, so those +unconscious artists--the Forsytes had fastened by intuition on this hat; +it was their significant trifle, the detail in which was embedded the +meaning of the whole matter; for each had asked himself: "Come, now, +should I have paid that visit in that hat?" and each had answered "No!" +and some, with more imagination than others, had added: "It would never +have come into my head!" + +George, on hearing the story, grinned. The hat had obviously been worn +as a practical joke! He himself was a connoisseur of such. "Very +haughty!" he said, "the wild Buccaneer." + +And this mot, the 'Buccaneer,' was bandied from mouth to mouth, till it +became the favourite mode of alluding to Bosinney. + +Her aunts reproached June afterwards about the hat. + +"We don't think you ought to let him, dear!" they had said. + +June had answered in her imperious brisk way, like the little embodiment +of will she was: "Oh! what does it matter? Phil never knows what he's +got on!" + +No one had credited an answer so outrageous. A man not to know what he +had on? No, no! What indeed was this young man, who, in becoming +engaged to June, old Jolyon's acknowledged heiress, had done so well for +himself? He was an architect, not in itself a sufficient reason for +wearing such a hat. None of the Forsytes happened to be architects, but +one of them knew two architects who would never have worn such a hat upon +a call of ceremony in the London season. + +Dangerous--ah, dangerous! June, of course, had not seen this, but, +though not yet nineteen, she was notorious. Had she not said to Mrs. +Soames--who was always so beautifully dressed--that feathers were vulgar? +Mrs. Soames had actually given up wearing feathers, so dreadfully +downright was dear June! + +These misgivings, this disapproval, and perfectly genuine distrust, did +not prevent the Forsytes from gathering to old Jolyon's invitation. An +'At Home' at Stanhope Gate was a great rarity; none had been held for +twelve years, not indeed, since old Mrs. Jolyon had died. + +Never had there been so full an assembly, for, mysteriously united in +spite of all their differences, they had taken arms against a common +peril. Like cattle when a dog comes into the field, they stood head to +head and shoulder to shoulder, prepared to run upon and trample the +invader to death. They had come, too, no doubt, to get some notion of +what sort of presents they would ultimately be expected to give; for +though the question of wedding gifts was usually graduated in this way: +'What are you givin'? Nicholas is givin' spoons!'--so very much depended +on the bridegroom. If he were sleek, well-brushed, prosperous-looking, +it was more necessary to give him nice things; he would expect them. In +the end each gave exactly what was right and proper, by a species of +family adjustment arrived at as prices are arrived at on the Stock +Exchange--the exact niceties being regulated at Timothy's commodious, +red-brick residence in Bayswater, overlooking the Park, where dwelt Aunts +Ann, Juley, and Hester. + +The uneasiness of the Forsyte family has been justified by the simple +mention of the hat. How impossible and wrong would it have been for any +family, with the regard for appearances which should ever characterize +the great upper middle-class, to feel otherwise than uneasy! + +The author of the uneasiness stood talking to June by the further door; +his curly hair had a rumpled appearance, as though he found what was +going on around him unusual. He had an air, too, of having a joke all to +himself. George, speaking aside to his brother, Eustace, said: + +"Looks as if he might make a bolt of it--the dashing Buccaneer!" + +This 'very singular-looking man,' as Mrs. Small afterwards called him, +was of medium height and strong build, with a pale, brown face, a +dust-coloured moustache, very prominent cheek-bones, and hollow checks. +His forehead sloped back towards the crown of his head, and bulged out in +bumps over the eyes, like foreheads seen in the Lion-house at the Zoo. +He had sherry-coloured eyes, disconcertingly inattentive at times. Old +Jolyon's coachman, after driving June and Bosinney to the theatre, had +remarked to the butler: + +"I dunno what to make of 'im. Looks to me for all the world like an +'alf-tame leopard." And every now and then a Forsyte would come up, sidle +round, and take a look at him. + +June stood in front, fending off this idle curiosity--a little bit of a +thing, as somebody once said, 'all hair and spirit,' with fearless blue +eyes, a firm jaw, and a bright colour, whose face and body seemed too +slender for her crown of red-gold hair. + +A tall woman, with a beautiful figure, which some member of the family +had once compared to a heathen goddess, stood looking at these two with a +shadowy smile. + +Her hands, gloved in French grey, were crossed one over the other, her +grave, charming face held to one side, and the eyes of all men near were +fastened on it. Her figure swayed, so balanced that the very air seemed +to set it moving. There was warmth, but little colour, in her cheeks; +her large, dark eyes were soft. + +But it was at her lips--asking a question, giving an answer, with that +shadowy smile--that men looked; they were sensitive lips, sensuous and +sweet, and through them seemed to come warmth and perfume like the warmth +and perfume of a flower. + +The engaged couple thus scrutinized were unconscious of this passive +goddess. It was Bosinney who first noticed her, and asked her name. + +June took her lover up to the woman with the beautiful figure. + +"Irene is my greatest chum," she said: "Please be good friends, you two!" + +At the little lady's command they all three smiled; and while they were +smiling, Soames Forsyte, silently appearing from behind the woman with +the beautiful figure, who was his wife, said: + +"Ah! introduce me too!" + +He was seldom, indeed, far from Irene's side at public functions, and +even when separated by the exigencies of social intercourse, could be +seen following her about with his eyes, in which were strange expressions +of watchfulness and longing. + +At the window his father, James, was still scrutinizing the marks on the +piece of china. + +"I wonder at Jolyon's allowing this engagement," he said to Aunt Ann. +"They tell me there's no chance of their getting married for years. This +young Bosinney" (he made the word a dactyl in opposition to general usage +of a short o) "has got nothing. When Winifred married Dartie, I made him +bring every penny into settlement--lucky thing, too--they'd ha' had +nothing by this time!" + +Aunt Ann looked up from her velvet chair. Grey curls banded her +forehead, curls that, unchanged for decades, had extinguished in the +family all sense of time. She made no reply, for she rarely spoke, +husbanding her aged voice; but to James, uneasy of conscience, her look +was as good as an answer. + +"Well," he said, "I couldn't help Irene's having no money. Soames was in +such a hurry; he got quite thin dancing attendance on her." + +Putting the bowl pettishly down on the piano, he let his eyes wander to +the group by the door. + +"It's my opinion," he said unexpectedly, "that it's just as well as it +is." + +Aunt Ann did not ask him to explain this strange utterance. She knew +what he was thinking. If Irene had no money she would not be so foolish +as to do anything wrong; for they said--they said--she had been asking +for a separate room; but, of course, Soames had not.... + +James interrupted her reverie: + +"But where," he asked, "was Timothy? Hadn't he come with them?" + +Through Aunt Ann's compressed lips a tender smile forced its way: + +"No, he didn't think it wise, with so much of this diphtheria about; and +he so liable to take things." + +James answered: + +"Well, HE takes good care of himself. I can't afford to take the care of +myself that he does." + +Nor was it easy to say which, of admiration, envy, or contempt, was +dominant in that remark. + +Timothy, indeed, was seldom seen. The baby of the family, a publisher by +profession, he had some years before, when business was at full tide, +scented out the stagnation which, indeed, had not yet come, but which +ultimately, as all agreed, was bound to set in, and, selling his share in +a firm engaged mainly in the production of religious books, had invested +the quite conspicuous proceeds in three per cent. consols. By this act +he had at once assumed an isolated position, no other Forsyte being +content with less than four per cent. for his money; and this isolation +had slowly and surely undermined a spirit perhaps better than commonly +endowed with caution. He had become almost a myth--a kind of incarnation +of security haunting the background of the Forsyte universe. He had +never committed the imprudence of marrying, or encumbering himself in any +way with children. + +James resumed, tapping the piece of china: + +"This isn't real old Worcester. I s'pose Jolyon's told you something +about the young man. From all I can learn, he's got no business, no +income, and no connection worth speaking of; but then, I know +nothing--nobody tells me anything." + +Aunt Ann shook her head. Over her square-chinned, aquiline old face a +trembling passed; the spidery fingers of her hands pressed against each +other and interlaced, as though she were subtly recharging her will. + +The eldest by some years of all the Forsytes, she held a peculiar +position amongst them. Opportunists and egotists one and all--though +not, indeed, more so than their neighbours--they quailed before her +incorruptible figure, and, when opportunities were too strong, what could +they do but avoid her! + +Twisting his long, thin legs, James went on: + +"Jolyon, he will have his own way. He's got no children"--and stopped, +recollecting the continued existence of old Jolyon's son, young Jolyon, +June's father, who had made such a mess of it, and done for himself by +deserting his wife and child and running away with that foreign +governess. "Well," he resumed hastily, "if he likes to do these things, +I s'pose he can afford to. Now, what's he going to give her? I s'pose +he'll give her a thousand a year; he's got nobody else to leave his money +to." + +He stretched out his hand to meet that of a dapper, clean-shaven man, +with hardly a hair on his head, a long, broken nose, full lips, and cold +grey eyes under rectangular brows. + +"Well, Nick," he muttered, "how are you?" + +Nicholas Forsyte, with his bird-like rapidity and the look of a +preternaturally sage schoolboy (he had made a large fortune, quite +legitimately, out of the companies of which he was a director), placed +within that cold palm the tips of his still colder fingers and hastily +withdrew them. + +"I'm bad," he said, pouting--"been bad all the week; don't sleep at +night. The doctor can't tell why. He's a clever fellow, or I shouldn't +have him, but I get nothing out of him but bills." + +"Doctors!" said James, coming down sharp on his words: "I've had all the +doctors in London for one or another of us. There's no satisfaction to +be got out of them; they'll tell you anything. There's Swithin, now. +What good have they done him? There he is; he's bigger than ever; he's +enormous; they can't get his weight down. Look at him!" + +Swithin Forsyte, tall, square, and broad, with a chest like a pouter +pigeon's in its plumage of bright waistcoats, came strutting towards +them. + +"Er--how are you?" he said in his dandified way, aspirating the 'h' +strongly (this difficult letter was almost absolutely safe in his +keeping)--"how are you?" + +Each brother wore an air of aggravation as he looked at the other two, +knowing by experience that they would try to eclipse his ailments. + +"We were just saying," said James, "that you don't get any thinner." + +Swithin protruded his pale round eyes with the effort of hearing. + +"Thinner? I'm in good case," he said, leaning a little forward, "not one +of your thread-papers like you!" + +But, afraid of losing the expansion of his chest, he leaned back again +into a state of immobility, for he prized nothing so highly as a +distinguished appearance. + +Aunt Ann turned her old eyes from one to the other. Indulgent and severe +was her look. In turn the three brothers looked at Ann. She was getting +shaky. Wonderful woman! Eighty-six if a day; might live another ten +years, and had never been strong. Swithin and James, the twins, were only +seventy-five, Nicholas a mere baby of seventy or so. All were strong, +and the inference was comforting. Of all forms of property their +respective healths naturally concerned them most. + +"I'm very well in myself," proceeded James, "but my nerves are out of +order. The least thing worries me to death. I shall have to go to +Bath." + +"Bath!" said Nicholas. "I've tried Harrogate. That's no good. What I +want is sea air. There's nothing like Yarmouth. Now, when I go there I +sleep...." + +"My liver's very bad," interrupted Swithin slowly. "Dreadful pain here;" +and he placed his hand on his right side. + +"Want of exercise," muttered James, his eyes on the china. He quickly +added: "I get a pain there, too." + +Swithin reddened, a resemblance to a turkey-cock coming upon his old +face. + +"Exercise!" he said. "I take plenty: I never use the lift at the Club." + +"I didn't know," James hurried out. "I know nothing about anybody; +nobody tells me anything...." + +Swithin fixed him with a stare: + +"What do you do for a pain there?" + +James brightened. + +"I take a compound...." + +"How are you, uncle?" + +June stood before him, her resolute small face raised from her little +height to his great height, and her hand outheld. + +The brightness faded from James's visage. + +"How are you?" he said, brooding over her. "So you're going to Wales +to-morrow to visit your young man's aunts? You'll have a lot of rain +there. This isn't real old Worcester." He tapped the bowl. "Now, that +set I gave your mother when she married was the genuine thing." + +June shook hands one by one with her three great-uncles, and turned to +Aunt Ann. A very sweet look had come into the old lady's face, she +kissed the girl's check with trembling fervour. + +"Well, my dear," she said, "and so you're going for a whole month!" + +The girl passed on, and Aunt Ann looked after her slim little figure. +The old lady's round, steel grey eyes, over which a film like a bird's +was beginning to come, followed her wistfully amongst the bustling crowd, +for people were beginning to say good-bye; and her finger-tips, pressing +and pressing against each other, were busy again with the recharging of +her will against that inevitable ultimate departure of her own. + +'Yes,' she thought, 'everybody's been most kind; quite a lot of people +come to congratulate her. She ought to be very happy.' Amongst the +throng of people by the door, the well-dressed throng drawn from the +families of lawyers and doctors, from the Stock Exchange, and all the +innumerable avocations of the upper-middle class--there were only some +twenty percent of Forsytes; but to Aunt Ann they seemed all Forsytes--and +certainly there was not much difference--she saw only her own flesh and +blood. It was her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never +perhaps known any other. All their little secrets, illnesses, +engagements, and marriages, how they were getting on, and whether they +were making money--all this was her property, her delight, her life; +beyond this only a vague, shadowy mist of facts and persons of no real +significance. This it was that she would have to lay down when it came +to her turn to die; this which gave to her that importance, that secret +self-importance, without which none of us can bear to live; and to this +she clung wistfully, with a greed that grew each day! If life were +slipping away from her, this she would retain to the end. + +She thought of June's father, young Jolyon, who had run away with that +foreign girl. And what a sad blow to his father and to them all. Such a +promising young fellow! A sad blow, though there had been no public +scandal, most fortunately, Jo's wife seeking for no divorce! A long time +ago! And when June's mother died, six years ago, Jo had married that +woman, and they had two children now, so she had heard. Still, he had +forfeited his right to be there, had cheated her of the complete +fulfilment of her family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of +seeing and kissing him of whom she had been so proud, such a promising +young fellow! The thought rankled with the bitterness of a +long-inflicted injury in her tenacious old heart. A little water stood +in her eyes. With a handkerchief of the finest lawn she wiped them +stealthily. + +"Well, Aunt Ann?" said a voice behind. + +Soames Forsyte, flat-shouldered, clean-shaven, flat-cheeked, +flat-waisted, yet with something round and secret about his whole +appearance, looked downwards and aslant at Aunt Ann, as though trying to +see through the side of his own nose. + +"And what do you think of the engagement?" he asked. + +Aunt Ann's eyes rested on him proudly; of all the nephews since young +Jolyon's departure from the family nest, he was now her favourite, for +she recognised in him a sure trustee of the family soul that must so soon +slip beyond her keeping. + +"Very nice for the young man," she said; "and he's a good-looking young +fellow; but I doubt if he's quite the right lover for dear June." + +Soames touched the edge of a gold-lacquered lustre. + +"She'll tame him," he said, stealthily wetting his finger and rubbing it +on the knobby bulbs. "That's genuine old lacquer; you can't get it +nowadays. It'd do well in a sale at Jobson's." He spoke with relish, as +though he felt that he was cheering up his old aunt. It was seldom he +was so confidential. "I wouldn't mind having it myself," he added; "you +can always get your price for old lacquer." + +"You're so clever with all those things," said Aunt Ann. "And how is +dear Irene?" + +Soames's smile died. + +"Pretty well," he said. "Complains she can't sleep; she sleeps a great +deal better than I do," and he looked at his wife, who was talking to +Bosinney by the door. + +Aunt Ann sighed. + +"Perhaps," she said, "it will be just as well for her not to see so much +of June. She's such a decided character, dear June!" + +Soames flushed; his flushes passed rapidly over his flat cheeks and +centered between his eyes, where they remained, the stamp of disturbing +thoughts. + +"I don't know what she sees in that little flibbertigibbet," he burst +out, but noticing that they were no longer alone, he turned and again +began examining the lustre. + +"They tell me Jolyon's bought another house," said his father's voice +close by; "he must have a lot of money--he must have more money than he +knows what to do with! Montpellier Square, they say; close to Soames! +They never told me, Irene never tells me anything!" + +"Capital position, not two minutes from me," said the voice of Swithin, +"and from my rooms I can drive to the Club in eight." + +The position of their houses was of vital importance to the Forsytes, nor +was this remarkable, since the whole spirit of their success was embodied +therein. + +Their father, of farming stock, had come from Dorsetshire near the +beginning of the century. + +'Superior Dosset Forsyte, as he was called by his intimates, had been a +stonemason by trade, and risen to the position of a master-builder. + +Towards the end of his life he moved to London, where, building on until +he died, he was buried at Highgate. He left over thirty thousand pounds +between his ten children. Old Jolyon alluded to him, if at all, as 'A +hard, thick sort of man; not much refinement about him.' The second +generation of Forsytes felt indeed that he was not greatly to their +credit. The only aristocratic trait they could find in his character was +a habit of drinking Madeira. + +Aunt Hester, an authority on family history, described him thus: "I don't +recollect that he ever did anything; at least, not in my time. He was +er--an owner of houses, my dear. His hair about your Uncle Swithin's +colour; rather a square build. Tall? No--not very tall" (he had been +five feet five, with a mottled face); "a fresh-coloured man. I remember +he used to drink Madeira; but ask your Aunt Ann. What was his father? +He--er--had to do with the land down in Dorsetshire, by the sea." + +James once went down to see for himself what sort of place this was that +they had come from. He found two old farms, with a cart track rutted +into the pink earth, leading down to a mill by the beach; a little grey +church with a buttressed outer wall, and a smaller and greyer chapel. +The stream which worked the mill came bubbling down in a dozen rivulets, +and pigs were hunting round that estuary. A haze hovered over the +prospect. Down this hollow, with their feet deep in the mud and their +faces towards the sea, it appeared that the primeval Forsytes had been +content to walk Sunday after Sunday for hundreds of years. + +Whether or no James had cherished hopes of an inheritance, or of +something rather distinguished to be found down there, he came back to +town in a poor way, and went about with a pathetic attempt at making the +best of a bad job. + +"There's very little to be had out of that," he said; "regular country +little place, old as the hills...." + +Its age was felt to be a comfort. Old Jolyon, in whom a desperate +honesty welled up at times, would allude to his ancestors as: "Yeomen--I +suppose very small beer." Yet he would repeat the word 'yeomen' as if it +afforded him consolation. + +They had all done so well for themselves, these Forsytes, that they were +all what is called 'of a certain position.' They had shares in all sorts +of things, not as yet--with the exception of Timothy--in consols, for +they had no dread in life like that of 3 per cent. for their money. They +collected pictures, too, and were supporters of such charitable +institutions as might be beneficial to their sick domestics. From their +father, the builder, they inherited a talent for bricks and mortar. +Originally, perhaps, members of some primitive sect, they were now in the +natural course of things members of the Church of England, and caused +their wives and children to attend with some regularity the more +fashionable churches of the Metropolis. To have doubted their +Christianity would have caused them both pain and surprise. Some of them +paid for pews, thus expressing in the most practical form their sympathy +with the teachings of Christ. + +Their residences, placed at stated intervals round the park, watched like +sentinels, lest the fair heart of this London, where their desires were +fixed, should slip from their clutches, and leave them lower in their own +estimations. + +There was old Jolyon in Stanhope Place; the Jameses in Park Lane; Swithin +in the lonely glory of orange and blue chambers in Hyde Park Mansions--he +had never married, not he--the Soamses in their nest off Knightsbridge; +the Rogers in Prince's Gardens (Roger was that remarkable Forsyte who had +conceived and carried out the notion of bringing up his four sons to a +new profession. "Collect house property, nothing like it," he would say; +"I never did anything else"). + +The Haymans again--Mrs. Hayman was the one married Forsyte sister--in a +house high up on Campden Hill, shaped like a giraffe, and so tall that it +gave the observer a crick in the neck; the Nicholases in Ladbroke Grove, +a spacious abode and a great bargain; and last, but not least, Timothy's +on the Bayswater Road, where Ann, and Juley, and Hester, lived under his +protection. + +But all this time James was musing, and now he inquired of his host and +brother what he had given for that house in Montpellier Square. He +himself had had his eye on a house there for the last two years, but they +wanted such a price. + +Old Jolyon recounted the details of his purchase. + +"Twenty-two years to run?" repeated James; "The very house I was +after--you've given too much for it!" + +Old Jolyon frowned. + +"It's not that I want it," said James hastily; it wouldn't suit my +purpose at that price. Soames knows the house, well--he'll tell you it's +too dear--his opinion's worth having." + +"I don't," said old Jolyon, "care a fig for his opinion." + +"Well," murmured James, "you will have your own way--it's a good opinion. +Good-bye! We're going to drive down to Hurlingham. They tell me June's +going to Wales. You'll be lonely tomorrow. What'll you do with yourself? +You'd better come and dine with us!" + +Old Jolyon refused. He went down to the front door and saw them into +their barouche, and twinkled at them, having already forgotten his +spleen--Mrs. James facing the horses, tall and majestic with auburn hair; +on her left, Irene--the two husbands, father and son, sitting forward, as +though they expected something, opposite their wives. Bobbing and +bounding upon the spring cushions, silent, swaying to each motion of +their chariot, old Jolyon watched them drive away under the sunlight. + +During the drive the silence was broken by Mrs. James. + +"Did you ever see such a collection of rumty-too people?" + +Soames, glancing at her beneath his eyelids, nodded, and he saw Irene +steal at him one of her unfathomable looks. It is likely enough that +each branch of the Forsyte family made that remark as they drove away +from old Jolyon's 'At Home!' + +Amongst the last of the departing guests the fourth and fifth brothers, +Nicholas and Roger, walked away together, directing their steps alongside +Hyde Park towards the Praed Street Station of the Underground. Like all +other Forsytes of a certain age they kept carriages of their own, and +never took cabs if by any means they could avoid it. + +The day was bright, the trees of the Park in the full beauty of mid-June +foliage; the brothers did not seem to notice phenomena, which +contributed, nevertheless, to the jauntiness of promenade and +conversation. + +"Yes," said Roger, "she's a good-lookin' woman, that wife of Soames's. +I'm told they don't get on." + +This brother had a high forehead, and the freshest colour of any of the +Forsytes; his light grey eyes measured the street frontage of the houses +by the way, and now and then he would level his, umbrella and take a +'lunar,' as he expressed it, of the varying heights. + +"She'd no money," replied Nicholas. + +He himself had married a good deal of money, of which, it being then the +golden age before the Married Women's Property Act, he had mercifully +been enabled to make a successful use. + +"What was her father?" + +"Heron was his name, a Professor, so they tell me." + +Roger shook his head. + +"There's no money in that," he said. + +"They say her mother's father was cement." + +Roger's face brightened. + +"But he went bankrupt," went on Nicholas. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Roger, "Soames will have trouble with her; you mark my +words, he'll have trouble--she's got a foreign look." + +Nicholas licked his lips. + +"She's a pretty woman," and he waved aside a crossing-sweeper. + +"How did he get hold of her?" asked Roger presently. "She must cost him +a pretty penny in dress!" + +"Ann tells me," replied Nicholas, "he was half-cracked about her. She +refused him five times. James, he's nervous about it, I can see." + +"Ah!" said Roger again; "I'm sorry for James; he had trouble with +Dartie." His pleasant colour was heightened by exercise, he swung his +umbrella to the level of his eye more frequently than ever. Nicholas's +face also wore a pleasant look. + +"Too pale for me," he said, "but her figures capital!" + +Roger made no reply. + +"I call her distinguished-looking," he said at last--it was the highest +praise in the Forsyte vocabulary. "That young Bosinney will never do any +good for himself. They say at Burkitt's he's one of these artistic +chaps--got an idea of improving English architecture; there's no money in +that! I should like to hear what Timothy would say to it." + +They entered the station. + +"What class are you going? I go second." + +"No second for me," said Nicholas;--"you never know what you may catch." + +He took a first-class ticket to Notting Hill Gate; Roger a second to +South Kensington. The train coming in a minute later, the two brothers +parted and entered their respective compartments. Each felt aggrieved +that the other had not modified his habits to secure his society a little +longer; but as Roger voiced it in his thoughts: + +'Always a stubborn beggar, Nick!' + +And as Nicholas expressed it to himself: + +'Cantankerous chap Roger--always was!' + +There was little sentimentality about the Forsytes. In that great +London, which they had conquered and become merged in, what time had they +to be sentimental? + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OLD JOLYON GOES TO THE OPERA + +At five o'clock the following day old Jolyon sat alone, a cigar between +his lips, and on a table by his side a cup of tea. He was tired, and +before he had finished his cigar he fell asleep. A fly settled on his +hair, his breathing sounded heavy in the drowsy silence, his upper lip +under the white moustache puffed in and out. From between the fingers of +his veined and wrinkled hand the cigar, dropping on the empty hearth, +burned itself out. + +The gloomy little study, with windows of stained glass to exclude the +view, was full of dark green velvet and heavily-carved mahogany--a suite +of which old Jolyon was wont to say: 'Shouldn't wonder if it made a big +price some day!' + +It was pleasant to think that in the after life he could get more for +things than he had given. + +In the rich brown atmosphere peculiar to back rooms in the mansion of a +Forsyte, the Rembrandtesque effect of his great head, with its white +hair, against the cushion of his high-backed seat, was spoiled by the +moustache, which imparted a somewhat military look to his face. An old +clock that had been with him since before his marriage forty years ago +kept with its ticking a jealous record of the seconds slipping away +forever from its old master. + +He had never cared for this room, hardly going into it from one year's +end to another, except to take cigars from the Japanese cabinet in the +corner, and the room now had its revenge. + +His temples, curving like thatches over the hollows beneath, his +cheek-bones and chin, all were sharpened in his sleep, and there had come +upon his face the confession that he was an old man. + +He woke. June had gone! James had said he would be lonely. James had +always been a poor thing. He recollected with satisfaction that he had +bought that house over James's head. + +Serve him right for sticking at the price; the only thing the fellow +thought of was money. Had he given too much, though? It wanted a lot of +doing to--He dared say he would want all his money before he had done +with this affair of June's. He ought never to have allowed the +engagement. She had met this Bosinney at the house of Baynes, Baynes and +Bildeboy, the architects. He believed that Baynes, whom he knew--a bit +of an old woman--was the young man's uncle by marriage. After that she'd +been always running after him; and when she took a thing into her head +there was no stopping her. She was continually taking up with 'lame +ducks' of one sort or another. This fellow had no money, but she must +needs become engaged to him--a harumscarum, unpractical chap, who would +get himself into no end of difficulties. + +She had come to him one day in her slap-dash way and told him; and, as if +it were any consolation, she had added: + +"He's so splendid; he's often lived on cocoa for a week!" + +"And he wants you to live on cocoa too?" + +"Oh no; he is getting into the swim now." + +Old Jolyon had taken his cigar from under his white moustaches, stained +by coffee at the edge, and looked at her, that little slip of a thing who +had got such a grip of his heart. He knew more about 'swims' than his +granddaughter. But she, having clasped her hands on his knees, rubbed +her chin against him, making a sound like a purring cat. And, knocking +the ash off his cigar, he had exploded in nervous desperation: + +"You're all alike: you won't be satisfied till you've got what you want. +If you must come to grief, you must; I wash my hands of it." + +So, he had washed his hands of it, making the condition that they should +not marry until Bosinney had at least four hundred a year. + +"I shan't be able to give you very much," he had said, a formula to which +June was not unaccustomed. "Perhaps this What's-his-name will provide +the cocoa." + +He had hardly seen anything of her since it began. A bad business! He +had no notion of giving her a lot of money to enable a fellow he knew +nothing about to live on in idleness. He had seen that sort of thing +before; no good ever came of it. Worst of all, he had no hope of shaking +her resolution; she was as obstinate as a mule, always had been from a +child. He didn't see where it was to end. They must cut their coat +according to their cloth. He would not give way till he saw young +Bosinney with an income of his own. That June would have trouble with +the fellow was as plain as a pikestaff; he had no more idea of money than +a cow. As to this rushing down to Wales to visit the young man's aunts, +he fully expected they were old cats. + +And, motionless, old Jolyon stared at the wall; but for his open eyes, he +might have been asleep.... The idea of supposing that young cub Soames +could give him advice! He had always been a cub, with his nose in the +air! He would be setting up as a man of property next, with a place in +the country! A man of property! H'mph! Like his father, he was always +nosing out bargains, a cold-blooded young beggar! + +He rose, and, going to the cabinet, began methodically stocking his +cigar-case from a bundle fresh in. They were not bad at the price, but +you couldn't get a good cigar, nowadays, nothing to hold a candle to +those old Superfinos of Hanson and Bridger's. That was a cigar! + +The thought, like some stealing perfume, carried him back to those +wonderful nights at Richmond when after dinner he sat smoking on the +terrace of the Crown and Sceptre with Nicholas Treffry and Traquair and +Jack Herring and Anthony Thornworthy. How good his cigars were then! +Poor old Nick!--dead, and Jack Herring--dead, and Traquair--dead of that +wife of his, and Thornworthy--awfully shaky (no wonder, with his +appetite). + +Of all the company of those days he himself alone seemed left, except +Swithin, of course, and he so outrageously big there was no doing +anything with him. + +Difficult to believe it was so long ago; he felt young still! Of all his +thoughts, as he stood there counting his cigars, this was the most +poignant, the most bitter. With his white head and his loneliness he had +remained young and green at heart. And those Sunday afternoons on +Hampstead Heath, when young Jolyon and he went for a stretch along the +Spaniard's Road to Highgate, to Child's Hill, and back over the Heath +again to dine at Jack Straw's Castle--how delicious his cigars were then! +And such weather! There was no weather now. + +When June was a toddler of five, and every other Sunday he took her to +the Zoo, away from the society of those two good women, her mother and +her grandmother, and at the top of the bear den baited his umbrella with +buns for her favourite bears, how sweet his cigars were then! + +Cigars! He had not even succeeded in out-living his palate--the famous +palate that in the fifties men swore by, and speaking of him, said: +"Forsyte's the best palate in London!" The palate that in a sense had +made his fortune--the fortune of the celebrated tea men, Forsyte and +Treffry, whose tea, like no other man's tea, had a romantic aroma, the +charm of a quite singular genuineness. About the house of Forsyte and +Treffry in the City had clung an air of enterprise and mystery, of +special dealings in special ships, at special ports, with special +Orientals. + +He had worked at that business! Men did work in those days! these young +pups hardly knew the meaning of the word. He had gone into every detail, +known everything that went on, sometimes sat up all night over it. And +he had always chosen his agents himself, prided himself on it. His eye +for men, he used to say, had been the secret of his success, and the +exercise of this masterful power of selection had been the only part of +it all that he had really liked. Not a career for a man of his ability. +Even now, when the business had been turned into a Limited Liability +Company, and was declining (he had got out of his shares long ago), he +felt a sharp chagrin in thinking of that time. How much better he might +have done! He would have succeeded splendidly at the Bar! He had even +thought of standing for Parliament. How often had not Nicholas Treffry +said to him: + +"You could do anything, Jo, if you weren't so d-damned careful of +yourself!" Dear old Nick! Such a good fellow, but a racketty chap! The +notorious Treffry! He had never taken any care of himself. So he was +dead. Old Jolyon counted his cigars with a steady hand, and it came into +his mind to wonder if perhaps he had been too careful of himself. + +He put the cigar-case in the breast of his coat, buttoned it in, and +walked up the long flights to his bedroom, leaning on one foot and the +other, and helping himself by the bannister. The house was too big. +After June was married, if she ever did marry this fellow, as he supposed +she would, he would let it and go into rooms. What was the use of +keeping half a dozen servants eating their heads off? + +The butler came to the ring of his bell--a large man with a beard, a soft +tread, and a peculiar capacity for silence. Old Jolyon told him to put +his dress clothes out; he was going to dine at the Club. + +How long had the carriage been back from taking Miss June to the station? +Since two? Then let him come round at half-past six! + +The Club which old Jolyon entered on the stroke of seven was one of those +political institutions of the upper middle class which have seen better +days. In spite of being talked about, perhaps in consequence of being +talked about, it betrayed a disappointing vitality. People had grown +tired of saying that the 'Disunion' was on its last legs. Old Jolyon +would say it, too, yet disregarded the fact in a manner truly irritating +to well-constituted Clubmen. + +"Why do you keep your name on?" Swithin often asked him with profound +vexation. "Why don't you join the 'Polyglot'? You can't get a wine like +our Heidsieck under twenty shillin' a bottle anywhere in London;" and, +dropping his voice, he added: "There's only five hundred dozen left. I +drink it every night of my life." + +"I'll think of it," old Jolyon would answer; but when he did think of it +there was always the question of fifty guineas entrance fee, and it would +take him four or five years to get in. He continued to think of it. + +He was too old to be a Liberal, had long ceased to believe in the +political doctrines of his Club, had even been known to allude to them as +'wretched stuff,' and it afforded him pleasure to continue a member in +the teeth of principles so opposed to his own. He had always had a +contempt for the place, having joined it many years ago when they refused +to have him at the 'Hotch Potch' owing to his being 'in trade.' As if he +were not as good as any of them! He naturally despised the Club that did +take him. The members were a poor lot, many of them in the City +--stockbrokers, solicitors, auctioneers--what not! Like most men of +strong character but not too much originality, old Jolyon set small store +by the class to which he belonged. Faithfully he followed their customs, +social and otherwise, and secretly he thought them 'a common lot.' + +Years and philosophy, of which he had his share, had dimmed the +recollection of his defeat at the 'Hotch Potch'; and now in his thoughts +it was enshrined as the Queen of Clubs. He would have been a member all +these years himself, but, owing to the slipshod way his proposer, Jack +Herring, had gone to work, they had not known what they were doing in +keeping him out. Why! they had taken his son Jo at once, and he believed +the boy was still a member; he had received a letter dated from there +eight years ago. + +He had not been near the 'Disunion' for months, and the house had +undergone the piebald decoration which people bestow on old houses and +old ships when anxious to sell them. + +'Beastly colour, the smoking-room!' he thought. 'The dining-room is +good!' + +Its gloomy chocolate, picked out with light green, took his fancy. + +He ordered dinner, and sat down in the very corner, at the very table +perhaps! (things did not progress much at the 'Disunion,' a Club of +almost Radical principles) at which he and young Jolyon used to sit +twenty-five years ago, when he was taking the latter to Drury Lane, +during his holidays. + +The boy had loved the theatre, and old Jolyon recalled how he used to sit +opposite, concealing his excitement under a careful but transparent +nonchalance. + +He ordered himself, too, the very dinner the boy had always chosen-soup, +whitebait, cutlets, and a tart. Ah! if he were only opposite now! + +The two had not met for fourteen years. And not for the first time +during those fourteen years old Jolyon wondered whether he had been a +little to blame in the matter of his son. An unfortunate love-affair +with that precious flirt Danae Thornworthy (now Danae Pellew), Anthony +Thornworthy's daughter, had thrown him on the rebound into the arms of +June's mother. He ought perhaps to have put a spoke in the wheel of +their marriage; they were too young; but after that experience of Jo's +susceptibility he had been only too anxious to see him married. And in +four years the crash had come! To have approved his son's conduct in +that crash was, of course, impossible; reason and training--that +combination of potent factors which stood for his principles--told him of +this impossibility, and his heart cried out. The grim remorselessness of +that business had no pity for hearts. There was June, the atom with +flaming hair, who had climbed all over him, twined and twisted herself +about him--about his heart that was made to be the plaything and beloved +resort of tiny, helpless things. With characteristic insight he saw he +must part with one or with the other; no half-measures could serve in +such a situation. In that lay its tragedy. And the tiny, helpless thing +prevailed. He would not run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, and +so to his son he said good-bye. + +That good-bye had lasted until now. + +He had proposed to continue a reduced allowance to young Jolyon, but this +had been refused, and perhaps that refusal had hurt him more than +anything, for with it had gone the last outlet of his penned-in +affection; and there had come such tangible and solid proof of rupture as +only a transaction in property, a bestowal or refusal of such, could +supply. + +His dinner tasted flat. His pint of champagne was dry and bitter stuff, +not like the Veuve Clicquots of old days. + +Over his cup of coffee, he bethought him that he would go to the opera. +In the Times, therefore--he had a distrust of other papers--he read the +announcement for the evening. It was 'Fidelio.' + +Mercifully not one of those new-fangled German pantomimes by that fellow +Wagner. + +Putting on his ancient opera hat, which, with its brim flattened by use, +and huge capacity, looked like an emblem of greater days, and, pulling +out an old pair of very thin lavender kid gloves smelling strongly of +Russia leather, from habitual proximity to the cigar-case in the pocket +of his overcoat, he stepped into a hansom. + +The cab rattled gaily along the streets, and old Jolyon was struck by +their unwonted animation. + +'The hotels must be doing a tremendous business,' he thought. A few +years ago there had been none of these big hotels. He made a +satisfactory reflection on some property he had in the neighbourhood. It +must be going up in value by leaps and bounds! What traffic! + +But from that he began indulging in one of those strange impersonal +speculations, so uncharacteristic of a Forsyte, wherein lay, in part, the +secret of his supremacy amongst them. What atoms men were, and what a lot +of them! And what would become of them all? + +He stumbled as he got out of the cab, gave the man his exact fare, walked +up to the ticket office to take his stall, and stood there with his purse +in his hand--he always carried his money in a purse, never having +approved of that habit of carrying it loosely in the pockets, as so many +young men did nowadays. The official leaned out, like an old dog from a +kennel. + +"Why," he said in a surprised voice, "it's Mr. Jolyon Forsyte! So it is! +Haven't seen you, sir, for years. Dear me! Times aren't what they were. +Why! you and your brother, and that auctioneer--Mr. Traquair, and Mr. +Nicholas Treffry--you used to have six or seven stalls here regular every +season. And how are you, sir? We don't get younger!" + +The colour in old Jolyon's eyes deepened; he paid his guinea. They had +not forgotten him. He marched in, to the sounds of the overture, like an +old war-horse to battle. + +Folding his opera hat, he sat down, drew out his lavender gloves in the +old way, and took up his glasses for a long look round the house. +Dropping them at last on his folded hat, he fixed his eyes on the +curtain. More poignantly than ever he felt that it was all over and done +with him. Where were all the women, the pretty women, the house used to +be so full of? Where was that old feeling in the heart as he waited for +one of those great singers? Where that sensation of the intoxication of +life and of his own power to enjoy it all? + +The greatest opera-goer of his day! There was no opera now! That fellow +Wagner had ruined everything; no melody left, nor any voices to sing it. +Ah! the wonderful singers! Gone! He sat watching the old scenes acted, +a numb feeling at his heart. + +From the curl of silver over his ear to the pose of his foot in its +elastic-sided patent boot, there was nothing clumsy or weak about old +Jolyon. He was as upright--very nearly--as in those old times when he +came every night; his sight was as good--almost as good. But what a +feeling of weariness and disillusion! + +He had been in the habit all his life of enjoying things, even imperfect +things--and there had been many imperfect things--he had enjoyed them all +with moderation, so as to keep himself young. But now he was deserted by +his power of enjoyment, by his philosophy, and left with this dreadful +feeling that it was all done with. Not even the Prisoners' Chorus, nor +Florian's Song, had the power to dispel the gloom of his loneliness. + +If Jo were only with him! The boy must be forty by now. He had wasted +fourteen years out of the life of his only son. And Jo was no longer a +social pariah. He was married. Old Jolyon had been unable to refrain +from marking his appreciation of the action by enclosing his son a cheque +for L500. The cheque had been returned in a letter from the 'Hotch +Potch,' couched in these words. + +'MY DEAREST FATHER, + +'Your generous gift was welcome as a sign that you might think worse of +me. I return it, but should you think fit to invest it for the benefit +of the little chap (we call him Jolly), who bears our Christian and, by +courtesy, our surname, I shall be very glad. + +'I hope with all my heart that your health is as good as ever. + +'Your loving son, + + 'Jo.' + +The letter was like the boy. He had always been an amiable chap. Old +Jolyon had sent this reply: + +'MY DEAR JO, + +'The sum (L500) stands in my books for the benefit of your boy, under the +name of Jolyon Forsyte, and will be duly-credited with interest at 5 per +cent. I hope that you are doing well. My health remains good at +present. + +'With love, I am, 'Your affectionate Father, +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + +And every year on the 1st of January he had added a hundred and the +interest. The sum was mounting up--next New Year's Day it would be +fifteen hundred and odd pounds! And it is difficult to say how much +satisfaction he had got out of that yearly transaction. But the +correspondence had ended. + +In spite of his love for his son, in spite of an instinct, partly +constitutional, partly the result, as in thousands of his class, of the +continual handling and watching of affairs, prompting him to judge +conduct by results rather than by principle, there was at the bottom of +his heart a sort of uneasiness. His son ought, under the circumstances, +to have gone to the dogs; that law was laid down in all the novels, +sermons, and plays he had ever read, heard, or witnessed. + +After receiving the cheque back there seemed to him to be something wrong +somewhere. Why had his son not gone to the dogs? But, then, who could +tell? + +He had heard, of course--in fact, he had made it his business to find +out--that Jo lived in St. John's Wood, that he had a little house in +Wistaria Avenue with a garden, and took his wife about with him into +society--a queer sort of society, no doubt--and that they had two +children--the little chap they called Jolly (considering the +circumstances the name struck him as cynical, and old Jolyon both feared +and disliked cynicism), and a girl called Holly, born since the marriage. +Who could tell what his son's circumstances really were? He had +capitalized the income he had inherited from his mother's father +and joined Lloyd's as an underwriter; he painted pictures, +too--water-colours. Old Jolyon knew this, for he had surreptitiously +bought them from time to time, after chancing to see his son's name +signed at the bottom of a representation of the river Thames in a +dealer's window. He thought them bad, and did not hang them because of +the signature; he kept them locked up in a drawer. + +In the great opera-house a terrible yearning came on him to see his son. +He remembered the days when he had been wont to slide him, in a brown +holland suit, to and fro under the arch of his legs; the times when he +ran beside the boy's pony, teaching him to ride; the day he first took +him to school. He had been a loving, lovable little chap! After he went +to Eton he had acquired, perhaps, a little too much of that desirable +manner which old Jolyon knew was only to be obtained at such places and +at great expense; but he had always been companionable. Always a +companion, even after Cambridge--a little far off, perhaps, owing to the +advantages he had received. Old Jolyon's feeling towards our public +schools and 'Varsities never wavered, and he retained touchingly his +attitude of admiration and mistrust towards a system appropriate to the +highest in the land, of which he had not himself been privileged to +partake.... Now that June had gone and left, or as good as left him, it +would have been a comfort to see his son again. Guilty of this treason +to his family, his principles, his class, old Jolyon fixed his eyes on +the singer. A poor thing--a wretched poor thing! And the Florian a +perfect stick! + +It was over. They were easily pleased nowadays! + +In the crowded street he snapped up a cab under the very nose of a stout +and much younger gentleman, who had already assumed it to be his own. +His route lay through Pall Mall, and at the corner, instead of going +through the Green Park, the cabman turned to drive up St. James's +Street. Old Jolyon put his hand through the trap (he could not bear +being taken out of his way); in turning, however, he found himself +opposite the 'Hotch Potch,' and the yearning that had been secretly with +him the whole evening prevailed. He called to the driver to stop. He +would go in and ask if Jo still belonged there. + +He went in. The hall looked exactly as it did when he used to dine there +with Jack Herring, and they had the best cook in London; and he looked +round with the shrewd, straight glance that had caused him all his life +to be better served than most men. + +"Mr. Jolyon Forsyte still a member here?" + +"Yes, sir; in the Club now, sir. What name?" + +Old Jolyon was taken aback. + +"His father," he said. + +And having spoken, he took his stand, back to the fireplace. + +Young Jolyon, on the point of leaving the Club, had put on his hat, and +was in the act of crossing the hall, as the porter met him. He was no +longer young, with hair going grey, and face--a narrower replica of his +father's, with the same large drooping moustache--decidedly worn. He +turned pale. This meeting was terrible after all those years, for +nothing in the world was so terrible as a scene. They met and crossed +hands without a word. Then, with a quaver in his voice, the father said: + +"How are you, my boy?" + +The son answered: + +"How are you, Dad?" + +Old Jolyon's hand trembled in its thin lavender glove. + +"If you're going my way," he said, "I can give you a lift." + +And as though in the habit of taking each other home every night they +went out and stepped into the cab. + +To old Jolyon it seemed that his son had grown. 'More of a man +altogether,' was his comment. Over the natural amiability of that son's +face had come a rather sardonic mask, as though he had found in the +circumstances of his life the necessity for armour. The features were +certainly those of a Forsyte, but the expression was more the +introspective look of a student or philosopher. He had no doubt been +obliged to look into himself a good deal in the course of those fifteen +years. + +To young Jolyon the first sight of his father was undoubtedly a shock--he +looked so worn and old. But in the cab he seemed hardly to have changed, +still having the calm look so well remembered, still being upright and +keen-eyed. + +"You look well, Dad." + +"Middling," old Jolyon answered. + +He was the prey of an anxiety that he found he must put into words. +Having got his son back like this, he felt he must know what was his +financial position. + +"Jo," he said, "I should like to hear what sort of water you're in. I +suppose you're in debt?" + +He put it this way that his son might find it easier to confess. + +Young Jolyon answered in his ironical voice: + +"No! I'm not in debt!" + +Old Jolyon saw that he was angry, and touched his hand. He had run a +risk. It was worth it, however, and Jo had never been sulky with him. +They drove on, without speaking again, to Stanhope Gate. Old Jolyon +invited him in, but young Jolyon shook his head. + +"June's not here," said his father hastily: "went of to-day on a visit. +I suppose you know that she's engaged to be married?" + +"Already?" murmured young Jolyon'. + +Old Jolyon stepped out, and, in paying the cab fare, for the first time +in his life gave the driver a sovereign in mistake for a shilling. + +Placing the coin in his mouth, the cabman whipped his horse secretly on +the underneath and hurried away. + +Old Jolyon turned the key softly in the lock, pushed open the door, and +beckoned. His son saw him gravely hanging up his coat, with an +expression on his face like that of a boy who intends to steal cherries. + +The door of the dining-room was open, the gas turned low; a spirit-urn +hissed on a tea-tray, and close to it a cynical looking cat had fallen +asleep on the dining-table. Old Jolyon 'shoo'd' her off at once. The +incident was a relief to his feelings; he rattled his opera hat behind +the animal. + +"She's got fleas," he said, following her out of the room. Through the +door in the hall leading to the basement he called "Hssst!" several +times, as though assisting the cat's departure, till by some strange +coincidence the butler appeared below. + +"You can go to bed, Parfitt," said old Jolyon. "I will lock up and put +out." + +When he again entered the dining-room the cat unfortunately preceded him, +with her tail in the air, proclaiming that she had seen through this +manouevre for suppressing the butler from the first.... + +A fatality had dogged old Jolyon's domestic stratagems all his life. + +Young Jolyon could not help smiling. He was very well versed in irony, +and everything that evening seemed to him ironical. The episode of the +cat; the announcement of his own daughter's engagement. So he had no +more part or parcel in her than he had in the Puss! And the poetical +justice of this appealed to him. + +"What is June like now?" he asked. + +"She's a little thing," returned old Jolyon; they say she's like me, but +that's their folly. She's more like your mother--the same eyes and +hair." + +"Ah! and she is pretty?" + +Old Jolyon was too much of a Forsyte to praise anything freely; +especially anything for which he had a genuine admiration. + +"Not bad looking--a regular Forsyte chin. It'll be lonely here when +she's gone, Jo." + +The look on his face again gave young Jolyon the shock he had felt on +first seeing his father. + +"What will you do with yourself, Dad? I suppose she's wrapped up in +him?" + +"Do with myself?" repeated old Jolyon with an angry break in his voice. +"It'll be miserable work living here alone. I don't know how it's to +end. I wish to goodness...." He checked himself, and added: "The +question is, what had I better do with this house?" + +Young Jolyon looked round the room. It was peculiarly vast and dreary, +decorated with the enormous pictures of still life that he remembered as +a boy--sleeping dogs with their noses resting on bunches of carrots, +together with onions and grapes lying side by side in mild surprise. The +house was a white elephant, but he could not conceive of his father +living in a smaller place; and all the more did it all seem ironical. + +In his great chair with the book-rest sat old Jolyon, the figurehead of +his family and class and creed, with his white head and dome-like +forehead, the representative of moderation, and order, and love of +property. As lonely an old man as there was in London. + +There he sat in the gloomy comfort of the room, a puppet in the power of +great forces that cared nothing for family or class or creed, but moved, +machine-like, with dread processes to inscrutable ends. This was how it +struck young Jolyon, who had the impersonal eye. + +The poor old Dad! So this was the end, the purpose to which he had lived +with such magnificent moderation! To be lonely, and grow older and +older, yearning for a soul to speak to! + +In his turn old Jolyon looked back at his son. He wanted to talk about +many things that he had been unable to talk about all these years. It +had been impossible to seriously confide in June his conviction that +property in the Soho quarter would go up in value; his uneasiness about +that tremendous silence of Pippin, the superintendent of the New Colliery +Company, of which he had so long been chairman; his disgust at the steady +fall in American Golgothas, or even to discuss how, by some sort of +settlement, he could best avoid the payment of those death duties which +would follow his decease. Under the influence, however, of a cup of tea, +which he seemed to stir indefinitely, he began to speak at last. A new +vista of life was thus opened up, a promised land of talk, where he could +find a harbour against the waves of anticipation and regret; where he +could soothe his soul with the opium of devising how to round off his +property and make eternal the only part of him that was to remain alive. + +Young Jolyon was a good listener; it was his great quality. He kept his +eyes fixed on his father's face, putting a question now and then. + +The clock struck one before old Jolyon had finished, and at the sound of +its striking his principles came back. He took out his watch with a look +of surprise: + +"I must go to bed, Jo," he said. + +Young Jolyon rose and held out his hand to help his father up. The old +face looked worn and hollow again; the eyes were steadily averted. + +"Good-bye, my boy; take care of yourself." + +A moment passed, and young Jolyon, turning on his, heel, marched out at +the door. He could hardly see; his smile quavered. Never in all the +fifteen years since he had first found out that life was no simple +business, had he found it so singularly complicated. + + + + +CHAPTER III +DINNER AT SWITHIN'S + +In Swithin's orange and light-blue dining-room, facing the Park, the +round table was laid for twelve. + +A cut-glass chandelier filled with lighted candles hung like a giant +stalactite above its centre, radiating over large gilt-framed mirrors, +slabs of marble on the tops of side-tables, and heavy gold chairs with +crewel worked seats. Everything betokened that love of beauty so deeply +implanted in each family which has had its own way to make into Society, +out of the more vulgar heart of Nature. Swithin had indeed an impatience +of simplicity, a love of ormolu, which had always stamped him amongst his +associates as a man of great, if somewhat luxurious taste; and out of the +knowledge that no one could possibly enter his rooms without perceiving +him to be a man of wealth, he had derived a solid and prolonged happiness +such as perhaps no other circumstance in life had afforded him. + +Since his retirement from land agency, a profession deplorable in his +estimation, especially as to its auctioneering department, he had +abandoned himself to naturally aristocratic tastes. + +The perfect luxury of his latter days had embedded him like a fly in +sugar; and his mind, where very little took place from morning till +night, was the junction of two curiously opposite emotions, a lingering +and sturdy satisfaction that he had made his own way and his own fortune, +and a sense that a man of his distinction should never have been allowed +to soil his mind with work. + +He stood at the sideboard in a white waistcoat with large gold and onyx +buttons, watching his valet screw the necks of three champagne bottles +deeper into ice-pails. Between the points of his stand-up collar, +which--though it hurt him to move--he would on no account have had +altered, the pale flesh of his under chin remained immovable. His eyes +roved from bottle to bottle. He was debating, and he argued like this: +Jolyon drinks a glass, perhaps two, he's so careful of himself. James, +he can't take his wine nowadays. Nicholas--Fanny and he would swill +water he shouldn't wonder! Soames didn't count; these young nephews +--Soames was thirty-one--couldn't drink! But Bosinney? + +Encountering in the name of this stranger something outside the range of +his philosophy, Swithin paused. A misgiving arose within him! It was +impossible to tell! June was only a girl, in love too! Emily (Mrs. +James) liked a good glass of champagne. It was too dry for Juley, poor +old soul, she had no palate. As to Hatty Chessman! The thought of this +old friend caused a cloud of thought to obscure the perfect glassiness of +his eyes: He shouldn't wonder if she drank half a bottle! + +But in thinking of his remaining guest, an expression like that of a cat +who is just going to purr stole over his old face: Mrs. Soames! She +mightn't take much, but she would appreciate what she drank; it was a +pleasure to give her good wine! A pretty woman--and sympathetic to him! + +The thought of her was like champagne itself! A pleasure to give a good +wine to a young woman who looked so well, who knew how to dress, with +charming manners, quite distinguished--a pleasure to entertain her. +Between the points of his collar he gave his head the first small, +painful oscillation of the evening. + +"Adolf!" he said. "Put in another bottle." + +He himself might drink a good deal, for, thanks to that prescription of +Blight's, he found himself extremely well, and he had been careful to +take no lunch. He had not felt so well for weeks. Puffing out his lower +lip, he gave his last instructions: + +"Adolf, the least touch of the West India when you come to the ham." + +Passing into the anteroom, he sat down on the edge of a chair, with his +knees apart; and his tall, bulky form was wrapped at once in an +expectant, strange, primeval immobility. He was ready to rise at a +moment's notice. He had not given a dinner-party for months. This +dinner in honour of June's engagement had seemed a bore at first (among +Forsytes the custom of solemnizing engagements by feasts was religiously +observed), but the labours of sending invitations and ordering the repast +over, he felt pleasantly stimulated. + +And thus sitting, a watch in his hand, fat, and smooth, and golden, like +a flattened globe of butter, he thought of nothing. + +A long man, with side whiskers, who had once been in Swithin's service, +but was now a greengrocer, entered and proclaimed: + +"Mrs. Chessman, Mrs. Septimus Small!" + +Two ladies advanced. The one in front, habited entirely in red, had +large, settled patches of the same colour in her cheeks, and a hard, +dashing eye. She walked at Swithin, holding out a hand cased in a long, +primrose-coloured glove: + +"Well! Swithin," she said, "I haven't seen you for ages. How are you? +Why, my dear boy, how stout you're getting!" + +The fixity of Swithin's eye alone betrayed emotion. A dumb and grumbling +anger swelled his bosom. It was vulgar to be stout, to talk of being +stout; he had a chest, nothing more. Turning to his sister, he grasped +her hand, and said in a tone of command: + +"Well, Juley." + +Mrs. Septimus Small was the tallest of the four sisters; her good, round +old face had gone a little sour; an innumerable pout clung all over it, +as if it had been encased in an iron wire mask up to that evening, which, +being suddenly removed, left little rolls of mutinous flesh all over her +countenance. Even her eyes were pouting. It was thus that she recorded +her permanent resentment at the loss of Septimus Small. + +She had quite a reputation for saying the wrong thing, and, tenacious +like all her breed, she would hold to it when she had said it, and add to +it another wrong thing, and so on. With the decease of her husband the +family tenacity, the family matter-of-factness, had gone sterile within +her. A great talker, when allowed, she would converse without the +faintest animation for hours together, relating, with epic monotony, the +innumerable occasions on which Fortune had misused her; nor did she ever +perceive that her hearers sympathized with Fortune, for her heart was +kind. + +Having sat, poor soul, long by the bedside of Small (a man of poor +constitution), she had acquired, the habit, and there were countless +subsequent occasions when she had sat immense periods of time to amuse +sick people, children, and other helpless persons, and she could never +divest herself of the feeling that the world was the most ungrateful +place anybody could live in. Sunday after Sunday she sat at the feet of +that extremely witty preacher, the Rev. Thomas Scoles, who exercised a +great influence over her; but she succeeded in convincing everybody that +even this was a misfortune. She had passed into a proverb in the family, +and when anybody was observed to be peculiarly distressing, he was known +as a regular 'Juley.' The habit of her mind would have killed anybody but +a Forsyte at forty; but she was seventy-two, and had never looked better. +And one felt that there were capacities for enjoyment about her which +might yet come out. She owned three canaries, the cat Tommy, and half a +parrot--in common with her sister Hester;--and these poor creatures (kept +carefully out of Timothy's way--he was nervous about animals), unlike +human beings, recognising that she could not help being blighted, +attached themselves to her passionately. + +She was sombrely magnificent this evening in black bombazine, with a +mauve front cut in a shy triangle, and crowned with a black velvet ribbon +round the base of her thin throat; black and mauve for evening wear was +esteemed very chaste by nearly every Forsyte. + +Pouting at Swithin, she said: + +"Ann has been asking for you. You haven't been near us for an age!" + +Swithin put his thumbs within the armholes of his waistcoat, and replied: + +"Ann's getting very shaky; she ought to have a doctor!" + +"Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Forsyte!" + +Nicholas Forsyte, cocking his rectangular eyebrows, wore a smile. He had +succeeded during the day in bringing to fruition a scheme for the +employment of a tribe from Upper India in the gold-mines of Ceylon. A +pet plan, carried at last in the teeth of great difficulties--he was +justly pleased. It would double the output of his mines, and, as he had +often forcibly argued, all experience tended to show that a man must die; +and whether he died of a miserable old age in his own country, or +prematurely of damp in the bottom of a foreign mine, was surely of little +consequence, provided that by a change in his mode of life he benefited +the British Empire. + +His ability was undoubted. Raising his broken nose towards his listener, +he would add: + +"For want of a few hundred of these fellows we haven't paid a dividend +for years, and look at the price of the shares. I can't get ten +shillings for them." + +He had been at Yarmouth, too, and had come back feeling that he had added +at least ten years to his own life. He grasped Swithin's hand, +exclaiming in a jocular voice: + +"Well, so here we are again!" + +Mrs. Nicholas, an effete woman, smiled a smile of frightened jollity +behind his back. + +"Mr. and Mrs. James Forsyte! Mr. and Mrs. Soames Forsyte!" + +Swithin drew his heels together, his deportment ever admirable. + +"Well, James, well Emily! How are you, Soames? How do you do?" + +His hand enclosed Irene's, and his eyes swelled. She was a pretty +woman--a little too pale, but her figure, her eyes, her teeth! Too good +for that chap Soames! + +The gods had given Irene dark brown eyes and golden hair, that strange +combination, provocative of men's glances, which is said to be the mark +of a weak character. And the full, soft pallor of her neck and +shoulders, above a gold-coloured frock, gave to her personality an +alluring strangeness. + +Soames stood behind, his eyes fastened on his wife's neck. The hands of +Swithin's watch, which he still held open in his hand, had left eight +behind; it was half an hour beyond his dinner-time--he had had no +lunch--and a strange primeval impatience surged up within him. + +"It's not like Jolyon to be late!" he said to Irene, with uncontrollable +vexation. "I suppose it'll be June keeping him!" + +"People in love are always late," she answered. + +Swithin stared at her; a dusky orange dyed his cheeks. + +"They've no business to be. Some fashionable nonsense!" + +And behind this outburst the inarticulate violence of primitive +generations seemed to mutter and grumble. + +"Tell me what you think of my new star, Uncle Swithin," said Irene +softly. + +Among the lace in the bosom of her dress was shining a five-pointed star, +made of eleven diamonds. Swithin looked at the star. He had a pretty +taste in stones; no question could have been more sympathetically devised +to distract his attention. + +"Who gave you that?" he asked. + +"Soames." + +There was no change in her face, but Swithin's pale eyes bulged as though +he might suddenly have been afflicted with insight. + +"I dare say you're dull at home," he said. "Any day you like to come and +dine with me, I'll give you as good a bottle of wine as you'll get in +London." + +"Miss June Forsyte--Mr. Jolyon Forsyte!... Mr. Boswainey!..." + +Swithin moved his arm, and said in a rumbling voice: + +"Dinner, now--dinner!" + +He took in Irene, on the ground that he had not entertained her since she +was a bride. June was the portion of Bosinney, who was placed between +Irene and his fiancee. On the other side of June was James with Mrs. +Nicholas, then old Jolyon with Mrs. James, Nicholas with Hatty Chessman, +Soames with Mrs. Small, completing, the circle to Swithin again. + +Family dinners of the Forsytes observe certain traditions. There are, +for instance, no hors d'oeuvre. The reason for this is unknown. Theory +among the younger members traces it to the disgraceful price of oysters; +it is more probably due to a desire to come to the point, to a good +practical sense deciding at once that hors d'oeuvre are but poor things. +The Jameses alone, unable to withstand a custom almost universal in Park +Lane, are now and then unfaithful. + +A silent, almost morose, inattention to each other succeeds to the +subsidence into their seats, lasting till well into the first entree, but +interspersed with remarks such as, "Tom's bad again; I can't tell what's +the matter with him!" "I suppose Ann doesn't come down in the +mornings?"--"What's the name of your doctor, Fanny?" "Stubbs?" "He's a +quack!"--"Winifred? She's got too many children. Four, isn't it? She's +as thin as a lath!"--"What d'you give for this sherry, Swithin? Too dry +for me!" + +With the second glass of champagne, a kind of hum makes itself heard, +which, when divested of casual accessories and resolved into its primal +element, is found to be James telling a story, and this goes on for a +long time, encroaching sometimes even upon what must universally be +recognised as the crowning point of a Forsyte feast--'the saddle of +mutton.' + +No Forsyte has given a dinner without providing a saddle of mutton. +There is something in its succulent solidity which makes it suitable to +people 'of a certain position.' It is nourishing and tasty; the sort of +thing a man remembers eating. It has a past and a future, like a deposit +paid into a bank; and it is something that can be argued about. + +Each branch of the family tenaciously held to a particular locality--old +Jolyon swearing by Dartmoor, James by Welsh, Swithin by Southdown, +Nicholas maintaining that people might sneer, but there was nothing like +New Zealand! As for Roger, the 'original' of the brothers, he had been +obliged to invent a locality of his own, and with an ingenuity worthy of +a man who had devised a new profession for his sons, he had discovered a +shop where they sold German; on being remonstrated with, he had proved +his point by producing a butcher's bill, which showed that he paid more +than any of the others. It was on this occasion that old Jolyon, turning +to June, had said in one of his bursts of philosophy: + +"You may depend upon it, they're a cranky lot, the Forsytes--and you'll +find it out, as you grow older!" + +Timothy alone held apart, for though he ate saddle of mutton heartily, he +was, he said, afraid of it. + +To anyone interested psychologically in Forsytes, this great +saddle-of-mutton trait is of prime importance; not only does it +illustrate their tenacity, both collectively and as individuals, but it +marks them as belonging in fibre and instincts to that great class which +believes in nourishment and flavour, and yields to no sentimental craving +for beauty. + +Younger members of the family indeed would have done without a joint +altogether, preferring guinea-fowl, or lobster salad--something which +appealed to the imagination, and had less nourishment--but these were +females; or, if not, had been corrupted by their wives, or by mothers, +who having been forced to eat saddle of mutton throughout their married +lives, had passed a secret hostility towards it into the fibre of their +sons. + +The great saddle-of-mutton controversy at an end, a Tewkesbury ham +commenced, together with the least touch of West Indian--Swithin was so +long over this course that he caused a block in the progress of the +dinner. To devote himself to it with better heart, he paused in his +conversation. + +From his seat by Mrs. Septimus Small Soames was watching. He had a +reason of his own connected with a pet building scheme, for observing +Bosinney. The architect might do for his purpose; he looked clever, as +he sat leaning back in his chair, moodily making little ramparts with +bread-crumbs. Soames noted his dress clothes to be well cut, but too +small, as though made many years ago. + +He saw him turn to Irene and say something and her face sparkle as he +often saw it sparkle at other people--never at himself. He tried to +catch what they were saying, but Aunt Juley was speaking. + +Hadn't that always seemed very extraordinary to Soames? Only last Sunday +dear Mr. Scole, had been so witty in his sermon, so sarcastic, "For +what," he had said, "shall it profit a man if he gain his own soul, but +lose all his property?" That, he had said, was the motto of the +middle-class; now, what had he meant by that? Of course, it might be +what middle-class people believed--she didn't know; what did Soames +think? + +He answered abstractedly: "How should I know? Scoles is a humbug, +though, isn't he?" For Bosinney was looking round the table, as if +pointing out the peculiarities of the guests, and Soames wondered what he +was saying. By her smile Irene was evidently agreeing with his remarks. +She seemed always to agree with other people. + +Her eyes were turned on himself; Soames dropped his glance at once. The +smile had died off her lips. + +A humbug? But what did Soames mean? If Mr. Scoles was a humbug, a +clergyman--then anybody might be--it was frightful! + +"Well, and so they are!" said Soames. + +During Aunt Juley's momentary and horrified silence he caught some words +of Irene's that sounded like: 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here!' + +But Swithin had finished his ham. + +"Where do you go for your mushrooms?" he was saying to Irene in a voice +like a courtier's; "you ought to go to Smileybob's--he'll give 'em you +fresh. These little men, they won't take the trouble!" + +Irene turned to answer him, and Soames saw Bosinney watching her and +smiling to himself. A curious smile the fellow had. A half-simple +arrangement, like a child who smiles when he is pleased. As for George's +nickname--'The Buccaneer'--he did not think much of that. And, seeing +Bosinney turn to June, Soames smiled too, but sardonically--he did not +like June, who was not looking too pleased. + +This was not surprising, for she had just held the following conversation +with James: + +"I stayed on the river on my way home, Uncle James, and saw a beautiful +site for a house." + +James, a slow and thorough eater, stopped the process of mastication. + +"Eh?" he said. "Now, where was that?" + +"Close to Pangbourne." + +James placed a piece of ham in his mouth, and June waited. + +"I suppose you wouldn't know whether the land about there was freehold?" +he asked at last. "You wouldn't know anything about the price of land +about there?" + +"Yes," said June; "I made inquiries." Her little resolute face under its +copper crown was suspiciously eager and aglow. + +James regarded her with the air of an inquisitor. + +"What? You're not thinking of buying land!" he ejaculated, dropping his +fork. + +June was greatly encouraged by his interest. It had long been her pet +plan that her uncles should benefit themselves and Bosinney by building +country-houses. + +"Of course not," she said. "I thought it would be such a splendid place +for--you or--someone to build a country-house!" + +James looked at her sideways, and placed a second piece of ham in his +mouth.... + +"Land ought to be very dear about there," he said. + +What June had taken for personal interest was only the impersonal +excitement of every Forsyte who hears of something eligible in danger of +passing into other hands. But she refused to see the disappearance of +her chance, and continued to press her point. + +"You ought to go into the country, Uncle James. I wish I had a lot of +money, I wouldn't live another day in London." + +James was stirred to the depths of his long thin figure; he had no idea +his niece held such downright views. + +"Why don't you go into the country?" repeated June; "it would do you a +lot of good." + +"Why?" began James in a fluster. "Buying land--what good d'you suppose I +can do buying land, building houses?--I couldn't get four per cent. for +my money!" + +"What does that matter? You'd get fresh air." + +"Fresh air!" exclaimed James; "what should I do with fresh air," + +"I should have thought anybody liked to have fresh air," said June +scornfully. + +James wiped his napkin all over his mouth. + +"You don't know the value of money," he said, avoiding her eye. + +"No! and I hope I never shall!" and, biting her lip with inexpressible +mortification, poor June was silent. + +Why were her own relations so rich, and Phil never knew where the money +was coming from for to-morrow's tobacco. Why couldn't they do something +for him? But they were so selfish. Why couldn't they build +country-houses? She had all that naive dogmatism which is so pathetic, +and sometimes achieves such great results. Bosinney, to whom she turned +in her discomfiture, was talking to Irene, and a chill fell on June's +spirit. Her eyes grew steady with anger, like old Jolyon's when his +will was crossed. + +James, too, was much disturbed. He felt as though someone had threatened +his right to invest his money at five per cent. Jolyon had spoiled her. +None of his girls would have said such a thing. James had always been +exceedingly liberal to his children, and the consciousness of this made +him feel it all the more deeply. He trifled moodily with his +strawberries, then, deluging them with cream, he ate them quickly; they, +at all events, should not escape him. + +No wonder he was upset. Engaged for fifty-four years (he had been +admitted a solicitor on the earliest day sanctioned by the law) in +arranging mortgages, preserving investments at a dead level of high and +safe interest, conducting negotiations on the principle of securing the +utmost possible out of other people compatible with safety to his clients +and himself, in calculations as to the exact pecuniary possibilities of +all the relations of life, he had come at last to think purely in terms +of money. Money was now his light, his medium for seeing, that without +which he was really unable to see, really not cognisant of phenomena; and +to have this thing, "I hope I shall never know the value of money!" said +to his face, saddened and exasperated him. He knew it to be nonsense, or +it would have frightened him. What was the world coming to! Suddenly +recollecting the story of young Jolyon, however, he felt a little +comforted, for what could you expect with a father like that! This +turned his thoughts into a channel still less pleasant. What was all +this talk about Soames and Irene? + +As in all self-respecting families, an emporium had been established +where family secrets were bartered, and family stock priced. It was +known on Forsyte 'Change that Irene regretted her marriage. Her regret +was disapproved of. She ought to have known her own mind; no dependable +woman made these mistakes. + +James reflected sourly that they had a nice house (rather small) in an +excellent position, no children, and no money troubles. Soames was +reserved about his affairs, but he must be getting a very warm man. He +had a capital income from the business--for Soames, like his father, was +a member of that well-known firm of solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard and +Forsyte--and had always been very careful. He had done quite unusually +well with some mortgages he had taken up, too--a little timely +foreclosure--most lucky hits! + +There was no reason why Irene should not be happy, yet they said she'd +been asking for a separate room. He knew where that ended. It wasn't as +if Soames drank. + +James looked at his daughter-in-law. That unseen glance of his was cold +and dubious. Appeal and fear were in it, and a sense of personal +grievance. Why should he be worried like this? It was very likely all +nonsense; women were funny things! They exaggerated so, you didn't know +what to believe; and then, nobody told him anything, he had to find out +everything for himself. Again he looked furtively at Irene, and across +from her to Soames. The latter, listening to Aunt Juley, was looking up, +under his brows in the direction of Bosinney. + +'He's fond of her, I know,' thought James. 'Look at the way he's always +giving her things.' + +And the extraordinary unreasonableness of her disaffection struck him +with increased force. + +It was a pity, too, she was a taking little thing, and he, James, would +be really quite fond of her if she'd only let him. She had taken up +lately with June; that was doing her no good, that was certainly doing +her no good. She was getting to have opinions of her own. He didn't +know what she wanted with anything of the sort. She'd a good home, and +everything she could wish for. He felt that her friends ought to be +chosen for her. To go on like this was dangerous. + +June, indeed, with her habit of championing the unfortunate, had dragged +from Irene a confession, and, in return, had preached the necessity of +facing the evil, by separation, if need be. But in the face of these +exhortations, Irene had kept a brooding silence, as though she found +terrible the thought of this struggle carried through in cold blood. He +would never give her up, she had said to June. + +"Who cares?" June cried; "let him do what he likes--you've only to stick +to it!" And she had not scrupled to say something of this sort at +Timothy's; James, when he heard of it, had felt a natural indignation and +horror. + +What if Irene were to take it into her head to--he could hardly frame the +thought--to leave Soames? But he felt this thought so unbearable that he +at once put it away; the shady visions it conjured up, the sound of +family tongues buzzing in his ears, the horror of the conspicuous +happening so close to him, to one of his own children! Luckily, she had +no money--a beggarly fifty pound a year! And he thought of the deceased +Heron, who had had nothing to leave her, with contempt. Brooding over +his glass, his long legs twisted under the table, he quite omitted to +rise when the ladies left the room. He would have to speak to Soames +--would have to put him on his guard; they could not go on like this, now +that such a contingency had occurred to him. And he noticed with sour +disfavour that June had left her wine-glasses full of wine. + +'That little, thing's at the bottom of it all,' he mused; 'Irene'd never +have thought of it herself.' James was a man of imagination. + +The voice of Swithin roused him from his reverie. + +"I gave four hundred pounds for it," he was saying. "Of course it's a +regular work of art." + +"Four hundred! H'm! that's a lot of money!" chimed in Nicholas. + +The object alluded to was an elaborate group of statuary in Italian +marble, which, placed upon a lofty stand (also of marble), diffused an +atmosphere of culture throughout the room. The subsidiary figures, of +which there were six, female, nude, and of highly ornate workmanship, +were all pointing towards the central figure, also nude, and female, who +was pointing at herself; and all this gave the observer a very pleasant +sense of her extreme value. Aunt Juley, nearly opposite, had had the +greatest difficulty in not looking at it all the evening. + +Old Jolyon spoke; it was he who had started the discussion. + +"Four hundred fiddlesticks! Don't tell me you gave four hundred for +that?" + +Between the points of his collar Swithin's chin made the second painful +oscillatory movement of the evening. + +"Four-hundred-pounds, of English money; not a farthing less. I don't +regret it. It's not common English--it's genuine modern Italian!" + +Soames raised the corner of his lip in a smile, and looked across at +Bosinney. The architect was grinning behind the fumes of his cigarette. +Now, indeed, he looked more like a buccaneer. + +"There's a lot of work about it," remarked James hastily, who was really +moved by the size of the group. "It'd sell well at Jobson's." + +"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it," went on Swithin, "asked me five +hundred--I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked half-starved, poor +dey-vil!" + +"Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, these +artists; it's a wonder to me how they live. Now, there's young +Flageoletti, that Fanny and the girls are always hav'in' in, to play the +fiddle; if he makes a hundred a year it's as much as ever he does!" + +James shook his head. "Ah!" he said, "I don't know how they live!" + +Old Jolyon had risen, and, cigar in mouth, went to inspect the group at +close quarters. + +"Wouldn't have given two for it!" he pronounced at last. + +Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance at each other anxiously; and, +on the other side of Swithin, Bosinney, still shrouded in smoke. + +'I wonder what he thinks of it?' thought Soames, who knew well enough +that this group was hopelessly vieux jeu; hopelessly of the last +generation. There was no longer any sale at Jobson's for such works of +art. + +Swithin's answer came at last. "You never knew anything about a statue. +You've got your pictures, and that's all!" + +Old Jolyon walked back to his seat, puffing his cigar. It was not likely +that he was going to be drawn into an argument with an obstinate beggar +like Swithin, pig-headed as a mule, who had never known a statue from +a---straw hat. + +"Stucco!" was all he said. + +It had long been physically impossible for Swithin to start; his fist +came down on the table. + +"Stucco! I should like to see anything you've got in your house half as +good!" + +And behind his speech seemed to sound again that rumbling violence of +primitive generations. + +It was James who saved the situation. + +"Now, what do you say, Mr. Bosinney? You're an architect; you ought to +know all about statues and things!" + +Every eye was turned upon Bosinney; all waited with a strange, suspicious +look for his answer. + +And Soames, speaking for the first time, asked: + +"Yes, Bosinney, what do you say?" + +Bosinney replied coolly: + +"The work is a remarkable one." + +His words were addressed to Swithin, his eyes smiled slyly at old Jolyon; +only Soames remained unsatisfied. + +"Remarkable for what?" + +"For its naivete" + +The answer was followed by an impressive silence; Swithin alone was not +sure whether a compliment was intended. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PROJECTION OF THE HOUSE + +Soames Forsyte walked out of his green-painted front door three days +after the dinner at Swithin's, and looking back from across the Square, +confirmed his impression that the house wanted painting. + +He had left his wife sitting on the sofa in the drawing-room, her hands +crossed in her lap, manifestly waiting for him to go out. This was not +unusual. It happened, in fact, every day. + +He could not understand what she found wrong with him. It was not as if +he drank! Did he run into debt, or gamble, or swear; was he violent; +were his friends rackety; did he stay out at night? On the contrary. + +The profound, subdued aversion which he felt in his wife was a mystery to +him, and a source of the most terrible irritation. That she had made a +mistake, and did not love him, had tried to love him and could not love +him, was obviously no reason. + +He that could imagine so outlandish a cause for his wife's not getting on +with him was certainly no Forsyte. + +Soames was forced, therefore, to set the blame entirely down to his wife. +He had never met a woman so capable of inspiring affection. They could +not go anywhere without his seeing how all the men were attracted by her; +their looks, manners, voices, betrayed it; her behaviour under this +attention had been beyond reproach. That she was one of those women--not +too common in the Anglo-Saxon race--born to be loved and to love, who +when not loving are not living, had certainly never even occurred to him. +Her power of attraction, he regarded as part of her value as his +property; but it made him, indeed, suspect that she could give as well as +receive; and she gave him nothing! 'Then why did she marry me?' was his +continual thought. He had, forgotten his courtship; that year and a half +when he had besieged and lain in wait for her, devising schemes for her +entertainment, giving her presents, proposing to her periodically, and +keeping her other admirers away with his perpetual presence. He had +forgotten the day when, adroitly taking advantage of an acute phase of +her dislike to her home surroundings, he crowned his labours with +success. If he remembered anything, it was the dainty capriciousness +with which the gold-haired, dark-eyed girl had treated him. He certainly +did not remember the look on her face--strange, passive, appealing--when +suddenly one day she had yielded, and said that she would marry him. + +It had been one of those real devoted wooings which books and people +praise, when the lover is at length rewarded for hammering the iron till +it is malleable, and all must be happy ever after as the wedding bells. + +Soames walked eastwards, mousing doggedly along on the shady side. + +The house wanted doing, up, unless he decided to move into the country, +and build. + +For the hundredth time that month he turned over this problem. There was +no use in rushing into things! He was very comfortably off, with an +increasing income getting on for three thousand a year; but his invested +capital was not perhaps so large as his father believed--James had a +tendency to expect that his children should be better off than they were. +'I can manage eight thousand easily enough,' he thought, 'without calling +in either Robertson's or Nicholl's.' + +He had stopped to look in at a picture shop, for Soames was an 'amateur' +of pictures, and had a little-room in No. 62, Montpellier Square, full +of canvases, stacked against the wall, which he had no room to hang. He +brought them home with him on his way back from the City, generally after +dark, and would enter this room on Sunday afternoons, to spend hours +turning the pictures to the light, examining the marks on their backs, +and occasionally making notes. + +They were nearly all landscapes with figures in the foreground, a sign of +some mysterious revolt against London, its tall houses, its interminable +streets, where his life and the lives of his breed and class were passed. +Every now and then he would take one or two pictures away with him in a +cab, and stop at Jobson's on his way into the City. + +He rarely showed them to anyone; Irene, whose opinion he secretly +respected and perhaps for that reason never solicited, had only been into +the room on rare occasions, in discharge of some wifely duty. She was +not asked to look at the pictures, and she never did. To Soames this was +another grievance. He hated that pride of hers, and secretly dreaded it. + +In the plate-glass window of the picture shop his image stood and looked +at him. + +His sleek hair under the brim of the tall hat had a sheen like the hat +itself; his cheeks, pale and flat, the line of his clean-shaven lips, his +firm chin with its greyish shaven tinge, and the buttoned strictness of +his black cut-away coat, conveyed an appearance of reserve and secrecy, +of imperturbable, enforced composure; but his eyes, cold,--grey, +strained--looking, with a line in the brow between them, examined him +wistfully, as if they knew of a secret weakness. + +He noted the subjects of the pictures, the names of the painters, made a +calculation of their values, but without the satisfaction he usually +derived from this inward appraisement, and walked on. + +No. 62 would do well enough for another year, if he decided to build! +The times were good for building, money had not been so dear for years; +and the site he had seen at Robin Hill, when he had gone down there in +the spring to inspect the Nicholl mortgage--what could be better! Within +twelve miles of Hyde Park Corner, the value of the land certain to go up, +would always fetch more than he gave for it; so that a house, if built in +really good style, was a first-class investment. + +The notion of being the one member of his family with a country house +weighed but little with him; for to a true Forsyte, sentiment, even the +sentiment of social position, was a luxury only to be indulged in after +his appetite for more material pleasure had been satisfied. + +To get Irene out of London, away from opportunities of going about and +seeing people, away from her friends and those who put ideas into her +head! That was the thing! She was too thick with June! June disliked +him. He returned the sentiment. They were of the same blood. + +It would be everything to get Irene out of town. The house would please +her she would enjoy messing about with the decoration, she was very +artistic! + +The house must be in good style, something that would always be certain +to command a price, something unique, like that last house of Parkes, +which had a tower; but Parkes had himself said that his architect was +ruinous. You never knew where you were with those fellows; if they had a +name they ran you into no end of expense and were conceited into the +bargain. + +And a common architect was no good--the memory of Parkes' tower precluded +the employment of a common architect: + +This was why he had thought of Bosinney. Since the dinner at Swithin's +he had made enquiries, the result of which had been meagre, but +encouraging: "One of the new school." + +"Clever?" + +"As clever as you like--a bit--a bit up in the air!" + +He had not been able to discover what houses Bosinney had built, nor what +his charges were. The impression he gathered was that he would be able +to make his own terms. The more he reflected on the idea, the more he +liked it. It would be keeping the thing in the family, with Forsytes +almost an instinct; and he would be able to get 'favoured-nation,' if not +nominal terms--only fair, considering the chance to Bosinney of +displaying his talents, for this house must be no common edifice. + +Soames reflected complacently on the work it would be sure to bring the +young man; for, like every Forsyte, he could be a thorough optimist when +there was anything to be had out of it. + +Bosinney's office was in Sloane Street, close at, hand, so that he would +be able to keep his eye continually on the plans. + +Again, Irene would not be to likely to object to leave London if her +greatest friend's lover were given the job. June's marriage might depend +on it. Irene could not decently stand in the way of June's marriage; she +would never do that, he knew her too well. And June would be pleased; of +this he saw the advantage. + +Bosinney looked clever, but he had also--and--it was one of his great +attractions--an air as if he did not quite know on which side his bread +were buttered; he should be easy to deal with in money matters. Soames +made this reflection in no defrauding spirit; it was the natural attitude +of his mind--of the mind of any good business man--of all those thousands +of good business men through whom he was threading his way up Ludgate +Hill. + +Thus he fulfilled the inscrutable laws of his great class--of human +nature itself--when he reflected, with a sense of comfort, that Bosinney +would be easy to deal with in money matters. + +While he elbowed his way on, his eyes, which he usually kept fixed on the +ground before his feet, were attracted upwards by the dome of St. +Paul's. It had a peculiar fascination for him, that old dome, and not +once, but twice or three times a week, would he halt in his daily +pilgrimage to enter beneath and stop in the side aisles for five or ten +minutes, scrutinizing the names and epitaphs on the monuments. The +attraction for him of this great church was inexplicable, unless it +enabled him to concentrate his thoughts on the business of the day. If +any affair of particular moment, or demanding peculiar acuteness, was +weighing on his mind, he invariably went in, to wander with mouse-like +attention from epitaph to epitaph. Then retiring in the same noiseless +way, he would hold steadily on up Cheapside, a thought more of dogged +purpose in his gait, as though he had seen something which he had made up +his mind to buy. + +He went in this morning, but, instead of stealing from monument to +monument, turned his eyes upwards to the columns and spacings of the +walls, and remained motionless. + +His uplifted face, with the awed and wistful look which faces take on +themselves in church, was whitened to a chalky hue in the vast building. +His gloved hands were clasped in front over the handle of his umbrella. +He lifted them. Some sacred inspiration perhaps had come to him. + +'Yes,' he thought, 'I must have room to hang my pictures. + +That evening, on his return from the City, he called at Bosinney's +office. He found the architect in his shirt-sleeves, smoking a pipe, and +ruling off lines on a plan. Soames refused a drink, and came at once to +the point. + +"If you've nothing better to do on Sunday, come down with me to Robin +Hill, and give me your opinion on a building site." + +"Are you going to build?" + +"Perhaps," said Soames; "but don't speak of it. I just want your +opinion." + +"Quite so," said the architect. + +Soames peered about the room. + +"You're rather high up here," he remarked. + +Any information he could gather about the nature and scope of Bosinney's +business would be all to the good. + +"It does well enough for me so far," answered the architect. "You're +accustomed to the swells." + +He knocked out his pipe, but replaced it empty between his teeth; it +assisted him perhaps to carry on the conversation. Soames noted a hollow +in each cheek, made as it were by suction. + +"What do you pay for an office like this?" said he. + +"Fifty too much," replied Bosinney. + +This answer impressed Soames favourably. + +"I suppose it is dear," he said. "I'll call for you--on Sunday about +eleven." + +The following Sunday therefore he called for Bosinney in a hansom, and +drove him to the station. On arriving at Robin Hill, they found no cab, +and started to walk the mile and a half to the site. + +It was the 1st of August--a perfect day, with a burning sun and cloudless +sky--and in the straight, narrow road leading up the hill their feet +kicked up a yellow dust. + +"Gravel soil," remarked Soames, and sideways he glanced at the coat +Bosinney wore. Into the side-pockets of this coat were thrust bundles of +papers, and under one arm was carried a queer-looking stick. Soames +noted these and other peculiarities. + +No one but a clever man, or, indeed, a buccaneer, would have taken such +liberties with his appearance; and though these eccentricities were +revolting to Soames, he derived a certain satisfaction from them, as +evidence of qualities by which he must inevitably profit. If the fellow +could build houses, what did his clothes matter? + +"I told you," he said, "that I want this house to be a surprise, so don't +say anything about it. I never talk of my affairs until they're carried +through." + +Bosinney nodded. + +"Let women into your plans," pursued Soames, "and you never know where +it'll end." + +"Ah!" Said Bosinney, "women are the devil!" + +This feeling had long been at the--bottom of Soames's heart; he had +never, however, put it into words. + +"Oh!" he Muttered, "so you're beginning to...." He stopped, but added, +with an uncontrollable burst of spite: "June's got a temper of her +own--always had." + +"A temper's not a bad thing in an angel." + +Soames had never called Irene an angel. He could not so have violated +his best instincts, letting other people into the secret of her value, +and giving himself away. He made no reply. + +They had struck into a half-made road across a warren. A cart-track led +at right-angles to a gravel pit, beyond which the chimneys of a cottage +rose amongst a clump of trees at the border of a thick wood. Tussocks of +feathery grass covered the rough surface of the ground, and out of these +the larks soared into the hate of sunshine. On the far horizon, over a +countless succession of fields and hedges, rose a line of downs. + +Soames led till they had crossed to the far side, and there he stopped. +It was the chosen site; but now that he was about to divulge the spot to +another he had become uneasy. + +"The agent lives in that cottage," he said; "he'll give us some +lunch--we'd better have lunch before we go into this matter." + +He again took the lead to the cottage, where the agent, a tall man named +Oliver, with a heavy face and grizzled beard, welcomed them. During +lunch, which Soames hardly touched, he kept looking at Bosinney, and once +or twice passed his silk handkerchief stealthily over his forehead. The +meal came to an end at last, and Bosinney rose. + +"I dare say you've got business to talk over," he said; "I'll just go and +nose about a bit." Without waiting for a reply he strolled out. + +Soames was solicitor to this estate, and he spent nearly an hour in the +agent's company, looking at ground-plans and discussing the Nicholl and +other mortgages; it was as it were by an afterthought that he brought up +the question of the building site. + +"Your people," he said, "ought to come down in their price to me, +considering that I shall be the first to build." + +Oliver shook his head. + +The site you've fixed on, Sir, he said, "is the cheapest we've got. +Sites at the top of the slope are dearer by a good bit." + +"Mind," said Soames, "I've not decided; it's quite possible I shan't +build at all. The ground rent's very high." + +"Well, Mr. Forsyte, I shall be sorry if you go off, and I think you'll +make a mistake, Sir. There's not a bit of land near London with such a +view as this, nor one that's cheaper, all things considered; we've only +to advertise, to get a mob of people after it." + +They looked at each other. Their faces said very plainly: 'I respect you +as a man of business; and you can't expect me to believe a word you +say.' + +Well, repeated Soames, "I haven't made up my mind; the thing will very +likely go off!" With these words, taking up his umbrella, he put his +chilly hand into the agent's, withdrew it without the faintest pressure, +and went out into the sun. + +He walked slowly back towards the site in deep thought. His instinct +told him that what the agent had said was true. A cheap site. And the +beauty of it was, that he knew the agent did not really think it cheap; +so that his own intuitive knowledge was a victory over the agent's. + +'Cheap or not, I mean to have it,' he thought. + +The larks sprang up in front of his feet, the air was full of +butterflies, a sweet fragrance rose from the wild grasses. The sappy +scent of the bracken stole forth from the wood, where, hidden in the +depths, pigeons were cooing, and from afar on the warm breeze, came the +rhythmic chiming of church bells. + +Soames walked with his eyes on the ground, his lips opening and closing +as though in anticipation of a delicious morsel. But when he arrived at +the site, Bosinney was nowhere to be seen. After waiting some little +time, he crossed the warren in the direction of the slope. He would have +shouted, but dreaded the sound of his voice. + +The warren was as lonely as a prairie, its silence only broken by the +rustle of rabbits bolting to their holes, and the song of the larks. + +Soames, the pioneer-leader of the great Forsyte army advancing to the +civilization of this wilderness, felt his spirit daunted by the +loneliness, by the invisible singing, and the hot, sweet air. He had +begun to retrace his steps when he at last caught sight of Bosinney. + +The architect was sprawling under a large oak tree, whose trunk, with a +huge spread of bough and foliage, ragged with age, stood on the verge of +the rise. + +Soames had to touch him on the shoulder before he looked up. + +"Hallo! Forsyte," he said, "I've found the very place for your house! +Look here!" + +Soames stood and looked, then he said, coldly: + +"You may be very clever, but this site will cost me half as much again." + +"Hang the cost, man. Look at the view!" + +Almost from their feet stretched ripe corn, dipping to a small dark copse +beyond. A plain of fields and hedges spread to the distant +grey-bluedowns. In a silver streak to the right could be seen the line +of the river. + +The sky was so blue, and the sun so bright, that an eternal summer seemed +to reign over this prospect. Thistledown floated round them, enraptured +by the serenity, of the ether. The heat danced over the corn, and, +pervading all, was a soft, insensible hum, like the murmur of bright +minutes holding revel between earth and heaven. + +Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his breast. To +live here in sight of all this, to be able to point it out to his +friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks flushed. The warmth, +the radiance, the glow, were sinking into his senses as, four years +before, Irene's beauty had sunk into his senses and made him long for +her. He stole a glance at Bosinney, whose eyes, the eyes of the +coachman's 'half-tame leopard,' seemed running wild over the landscape. +The sunlight had caught the promontories of the fellow's face, the bumpy +cheekbones, the point of his chin, the vertical ridges above his brow; +and Soames watched this rugged, enthusiastic, careless face with an +unpleasant feeling. + +A long, soft ripple of wind flowed over the corn, and brought a puff of +warm air into their faces. + +"I could build you a teaser here," said Bosinney, breaking the silence at +last. + +"I dare say," replied Soames, drily. "You haven't got to pay for it." + +"For about eight thousand I could build you a palace." + +Soames had become very pale--a struggle was going on within him. He +dropped his eyes, and said stubbornly: + +"I can't afford it." + +And slowly, with his mousing walk, he led the way back to the first site. + +They spent some time there going into particulars of the projected house, +and then Soames returned to the agent's cottage. + +He came out in about half an hour, and, joining Bosinney, started for the +station. + +"Well," he said, hardly opening his lips, "I've taken that site of yours, +after all." + +And again he was silent, confusedly debating how it was that this fellow, +whom by habit he despised, should have overborne his own decision. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A FORSYTE MENAGE + +Like the enlightened thousands of his class and generation in this great +city of London, who no longer believe in red velvet chairs, and know that +groups of modern Italian marble are 'vieux jeu,' Soames Forsyte inhabited +a house which did what it could. It owned a copper door knocker of +individual design, windows which had been altered to open outwards, +hanging flower boxes filled with fuchsias, and at the back (a great +feature) a little court tiled with jade-green tiles, and surrounded by +pink hydrangeas in peacock-blue tubs. Here, under a parchment-coloured +Japanese sunshade covering the whole end, inhabitants or visitors could +be screened from the eyes of the curious while they drank tea and +examined at their leisure the latest of Soames's little silver boxes. + +The inner decoration favoured the First Empire and William Morris. For +its size, the house was commodious; there were countless nooks resembling +birds' nests, and little things made of silver were deposited like eggs. + +In this general perfection two kinds of fastidiousness were at war. +There lived here a mistress who would have dwelt daintily on a desert +island; a master whose daintiness was, as it were, an investment, +cultivated by the owner for his advancement, in accordance with the laws +of competition. This competitive daintiness had caused Soames in his +Marlborough days to be the first boy into white waistcoats in summer, and +corduroy waistcoats in winter, had prevented him from ever appearing in +public with his tie climbing up his collar, and induced him to dust his +patent leather boots before a great multitude assembled on Speech Day to +hear him recite Moliere. + +Skin-like immaculateness had grown over Soames, as over many Londoners; +impossible to conceive of him with a hair out of place, a tie deviating +one-eighth of an inch from the perpendicular, a collar unglossed! He +would not have gone without a bath for worlds--it was the fashion to take +baths; and how bitter was his scorn of people who omitted them! + +But Irene could be imagined, like some nymph, bathing in wayside streams, +for the joy of the freshness and of seeing her own fair body. + +In this conflict throughout the house the woman had gone to the wall. As +in the struggle between Saxon and Celt still going on within the nation, +the more impressionable and receptive temperament had had forced on it a +conventional superstructure. + +Thus the house had acquired a close resemblance to hundreds of other +houses with the same high aspirations, having become: 'That very charming +little house of the Soames Forsytes, quite individual, my dear--really +elegant.' + +For Soames Forsyte--read James Peabody, Thomas Atkins, or Emmanuel +Spagnoletti, the name in fact of any upper-middle class Englishman in +London with any pretensions to taste; and though the decoration be +different, the phrase is just. + +On the evening of August 8, a week after the expedition to Robin Hill, in +the dining-room of this house--'quite individual, my dear--really +elegant'--Soames and Irene were seated at dinner. A hot dinner on +Sundays was a little distinguishing elegance common to this house and +many others. Early in married life Soames had laid down the rule: 'The +servants must give us hot dinner on Sundays--they've nothing to do but +play the concertina.' + +The custom had produced no revolution. For--to Soames a rather +deplorable sign--servants were devoted to Irene, who, in defiance of all +safe tradition, appeared to recognise their right to a share in the +weaknesses of human nature. + +The happy pair were seated, not opposite each other, but rectangularly, +at the handsome rosewood table; they dined without a cloth--a +distinguishing elegance--and so far had not spoken a word. + +Soames liked to talk during dinner about business, or what he had been +buying, and so long as he talked Irene's silence did not distress him. +This evening he had found it impossible to talk. The decision to build +had been weighing on his mind all the week, and he had made up his mind +to tell her. + +His nervousness about this disclosure irritated him profoundly; she had +no business to make him feel like that--a wife and a husband being one +person. She had not looked at him once since they sat down; and he +wondered what on earth she had been thinking about all the time. It was +hard, when a man worked as he did, making money for her--yes, and with an +ache in his heart--that she should sit there, looking--looking as if she +saw the walls of the room closing in. It was enough to make a man get up +and leave the table. + +The light from the rose-shaded lamp fell on her neck and arms--Soames +liked her to dine in a low dress, it gave him an inexpressible feeling of +superiority to the majority of his acquaintance, whose wives were +contented with their best high frocks or with tea-gowns, when they dined +at home. Under that rosy light her amber-coloured hair and fair skin +made strange contrast with her dark brown eyes. + +Could a man own anything prettier than this dining-table with its deep +tints, the starry, soft-petalled roses, the ruby-coloured glass, and +quaint silver furnishing; could a man own anything prettier than the +woman who sat at it? Gratitude was no virtue among Forsytes, who, +competitive, and full of common-sense, had no occasion for it; and Soames +only experienced a sense of exasperation amounting to pain, that he did +not own her as it was his right to own her, that he could not, as by +stretching out his hand to that rose, pluck her and sniff the very +secrets of her heart. + +Out of his other property, out of all the things he had collected, his +silver, his pictures, his houses, his investments, he got a secret and +intimate feeling; out of her he got none. + +In this house of his there was writing on every wall. His business-like +temperament protested against a mysterious warning that she was not made +for him. He had married this woman, conquered her, made her his own, and +it seemed to him contrary to the most fundamental of all laws, the law of +possession, that he could do no more than own her body--if indeed he +could do that, which he was beginning to doubt. If any one had asked him +if he wanted to own her soul, the question would have seemed to him both +ridiculous and sentimental. But he did so want, and the writing said he +never would. + +She was ever silent, passive, gracefully averse; as though terrified lest +by word, motion, or sign she might lead him to believe that she was fond +of him; and he asked himself: Must I always go on like this? + +Like most novel readers of his generation (and Soames was a great novel +reader), literature coloured his view of life; and he had imbibed the +belief that it was only a question of time. + +In the end the husband always gained the affection of his wife. Even in +those cases--a class of book he was not very fond of--which ended in +tragedy, the wife always died with poignant regrets on her lips, or if it +were the husband who died--unpleasant thought--threw herself on his body +in an agony of remorse. + +He often took Irene to the theatre, instinctively choosing the modern +Society Plays with the modern Society conjugal problem, so fortunately +different from any conjugal problem in real life. He found that they too +always ended in the same way, even when there was a lover in the case. +While he was watching the play Soames often sympathized with the lover; +but before he reached home again, driving with Irene in a hansom, he saw +that this would not do, and he was glad the play had ended as it had. +There was one class of husband that had just then come into fashion, the +strong, rather rough, but extremely sound man, who was peculiarly +successful at the end of the play; with this person Soames was really not +in sympathy, and had it not been for his own position, would have +expressed his disgust with the fellow. But he was so conscious of how +vital to himself was the necessity for being a successful, even a +'strong,' husband, that he never spoke of a distaste born perhaps by the +perverse processes of Nature out of a secret fund of brutality in +himself. + +But Irene's silence this evening was exceptional. He had never before +seen such an expression on her face. And since it is always the unusual +which alarms, Soames was alarmed. He ate his savoury, and hurried the +maid as she swept off the crumbs with the silver sweeper. When she had +left the room, he filled his glass with wine and said: + +"Anybody been here this afternoon?" + +"June." + +"What did she want?" It was an axiom with the Forsytes that people did +not go anywhere unless they wanted something. "Came to talk about her +lover, I suppose?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"It looks to me," continued Soames, "as if she were sweeter on him than +he is on her. She's always following him about." + +Irene's eyes made him feel uncomfortable. + +"You've no business to say such a thing!" she exclaimed. + +"Why not? Anybody can see it." + +"They cannot. And if they could, it's disgraceful to say so." + +Soames's composure gave way. + +"You're a pretty wife!" he said. But secretly he wondered at the heat of +her reply; it was unlike her. "You're cracked about June! I can tell +you one thing: now that she has the Buccaneer in tow, she doesn't care +twopence about you, and, you'll find it out. But you won't see so much +of her in future; we're going to live in the country." + +He had been glad to get his news out under cover of this burst of +irritation. He had expected a cry of dismay; the silence with which his +pronouncement was received alarmed him. + +"You don't seem interested," he was obliged to add. + +"I knew it already." + +He looked at her sharply. + +"Who told you?" + +"June." + +"How did she know?" + +Irene did not answer. Baffled and uncomfortable, he said: + +"It's a fine thing for Bosinney, it'll be the making of him. I suppose +she's told you all about it?" + +"Yes." + +There was another pause, and then Soames said: + +"I suppose you don't want to, go?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"Well, I can't tell what you want. You never seem contented here." + +"Have my wishes anything to do with it?" + +She took the vase of roses and left the room. Soames remained seated. +Was it for this that he had signed that contract? Was it for this that +he was going to spend some ten thousand pounds? Bosinney's phrase came +back to him: "Women are the devil!" + +But presently he grew calmer. It might have, been worse. She might have +flared up. He had expected something more than this. It was lucky, after +all, that June had broken the ice for him. She must have wormed it out of +Bosinney; he might have known she would. + +He lighted his cigarette. After all, Irene had not made a scene! She +would come round--that was the best of her; she was cold, but not sulky. +And, puffing the cigarette smoke at a lady-bird on the shining table, he +plunged into a reverie about the house. It was no good worrying; he +would go and make it up presently. She would be sitting out there in the +dark, under the Japanese sunshade, knitting. A beautiful, warm night.... + +In truth, June had come in that afternoon with shining eyes, and the +words: "Soames is a brick! It's splendid for Phil--the very thing for +him!" + +Irene's face remaining dark and puzzled, she went on: + +"Your new house at Robin Hill, of course. What? Don't you know?" + +Irene did not know. + +"Oh! then, I suppose I oughtn't to have told you!" Looking impatiently +at her friend, she cried: "You look as if you didn't care. Don't you +see, it's what I've' been praying for--the very chance he's been wanting +all this time. Now you'll see what he can do;" and thereupon she poured +out the whole story. + +Since her own engagement she had not seemed much interested in her +friend's position; the hours she spent with Irene were given to +confidences of her own; and at times, for all her affectionate pity, it +was impossible to keep out of her smile a trace of compassionate contempt +for the woman who had made such a mistake in her life--such a vast, +ridiculous mistake. + +"He's to have all the decorations as well--a free hand. It's perfect--" +June broke into laughter, her little figure quivered gleefully; she +raised her hand, and struck a blow at a muslin curtain. "Do you, know I +even asked Uncle James...." But, with a sudden dislike to mentioning that +incident, she stopped; and presently, finding her friend so unresponsive, +went away. She looked back from the pavement, and Irene was still +standing in the doorway. In response to her farewell wave, Irene put her +hand to her brow, and, turning slowly, shut the door.... + +Soames went to the drawing-room presently, and peered at her through the +window. + +Out in the shadow of the Japanese sunshade she was sitting very still, +the lace on her white shoulders stirring with the soft rise and fall of +her bosom. + +But about this silent creature sitting there so motionless, in the dark, +there seemed a warmth, a hidden fervour of feeling, as if the whole of +her being had been stirred, and some change were taking place in its very +depths. + +He stole back to the dining-room unnoticed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JAMES AT LARGE + +It was not long before Soames's determination to build went the round of +the family, and created the flutter that any decision connected with +property should make among Forsytes. + +It was not his fault, for he had been determined that no one should know. +June, in the fulness of her heart, had told Mrs. Small, giving her leave +only to tell Aunt Ann--she thought it would cheer her, the poor old +sweet! for Aunt Ann had kept her room now for many days. + +Mrs. Small told Aunt Ann at once, who, smiling as she lay back on her +pillows, said in her distinct, trembling old voice: + +"It's very nice for dear June; but I hope they will be careful--it's +rather dangerous!" + +When she was left alone again, a frown, like a cloud presaging a rainy +morrow, crossed her face. + +While she was lying there so many days the process of recharging her will +went on all the time; it spread to her face, too, and tightening +movements were always in action at the corners of her lips. + +The maid Smither, who had been in her service since girlhood, and was +spoken of as "Smither--a good girl--but so slow!"--the maid Smither +performed every morning with extreme punctiliousness the crowning +ceremony of that ancient toilet. Taking from the recesses of their pure +white band-box those flat, grey curls, the insignia of personal dignity, +she placed them securely in her mistress's hands, and turned her back. + +And every day Aunts Juley and Hester were required to come and report on +Timothy; what news there was of Nicholas; whether dear June had succeeded +in getting Jolyon to shorten the engagement, now that Mr. Bosinney was +building Soames a house; whether young Roger's wife was +really--expecting; how the operation on Archie had succeeded; and what +Swithin had done about that empty house in Wigmore Street, where the +tenant had lost all his money and treated him so badly; above all, about +Soames; was Irene still--still asking for a separate room? And every +morning Smither was told: "I shall be coming down this afternoon, +Smither, about two o'clock. I shall want your arm, after all these days +in bed!" + +After telling Aunt Ann, Mrs. Small had spoken of the house in the +strictest confidence to Mrs. Nicholas, who in her turn had asked Winifred +Dartie for confirmation, supposing, of course, that, being Soames's +sister, she would know all about it. Through her it had in due course +come round to the ears of James. He had been a good deal agitated. + +"Nobody," he said, "told him anything." And, rather than go direct to +Soames himself, of whose taciturnity he was afraid, he took his umbrella +and went round to Timothy's. + +He found Mrs. Septimus and Hester (who had been told--she was so safe, +she found it tiring to talk) ready, and indeed eager, to discuss the +news. It was very good of dear Soames, they thought, to employ Mr. +Bosinney, but rather risky. What had George named him? 'The Buccaneer' +How droll! But George was always droll! However, it would be all in the +family they supposed they must really look upon Mr. Bosinney as belonging +to the family, though it seemed strange. + +James here broke in: + +"Nobody knows anything about him. I don't see what Soames wants with a +young man like that. I shouldn't be surprised if Irene had put her oar +in. I shall speak to...." + +"Soames," interposed Aunt Juley, "told Mr. Bosinney that he didn't wish +it mentioned. He wouldn't like it to be talked about, I'm sure, and if +Timothy knew he would be very vexed, I...." + +James put his hand behind his ear: + +"What?" he said. "I'm getting very deaf. I suppose I don't hear people. +Emily's got a bad toe. We shan't be able to start for Wales till the end +of the month. There' s always something!" And, having got what he +wanted, he took his hat and went away. + +It was a fine afternoon, and he walked across the Park towards Soames's, +where he intended to dine, for Emily's toe kept her in bed, and Rachel +and Cicely were on a visit to the country. He took the slanting path +from the Bayswater side of the Row to the Knightsbridge Gate, across a +pasture of short, burnt grass, dotted with blackened sheep, strewn with +seated couples and strange waifs; lying prone on their faces, like +corpses on a field over which the wave of battle has rolled. + +He walked rapidly, his head bent, looking neither to right nor, left. +The appearance of this park, the centre of his own battle-field, where he +had all his life been fighting, excited no thought or speculation in his +mind. These corpses flung down, there, from out the press and turmoil of +the struggle, these pairs of lovers sitting cheek by jowl for an hour of +idle Elysium snatched from the monotony of their treadmill, awakened no +fancies in his mind; he had outlived that kind of imagination; his nose, +like the nose of a sheep, was fastened to the pastures on which he +browsed. + +One of his tenants had lately shown a disposition to be behind-hand in +his rent, and it had become a grave question whether he had not better +turn him out at once, and so run the risk of not re-letting before +Christmas. Swithin had just been let in very badly, but it had served +him right--he had held on too long. + +He pondered this as he walked steadily, holding his umbrella carefully by +the wood, just below the crook of the handle, so as to keep the ferule +off the ground, and not fray the silk in the middle. And, with his thin, +high shoulders stooped, his long legs moving with swift mechanical +precision, this passage through the Park, where the sun shone with a +clear flame on so much idleness--on so many human evidences of the +remorseless battle of Property, raging beyond its ring--was like the +flight of some land bird across the sea. + +He felt a--touch on the arm as he came out at Albert Gate. + +It was Soames, who, crossing from the shady side of Piccadilly, where he +had been walking home from the office, had suddenly appeared alongside. + +"Your mother's in bed," said James; "I was, just coming to you, but I +suppose I shall be in the way." + +The outward relations between James and his son were marked by a lack of +sentiment peculiarly Forsytean, but for all that the two were by no means +unattached. Perhaps they regarded one another as an investment; +certainly they were solicitous of each other's welfare, glad of each +other's company. They had never exchanged two words upon the more +intimate problems of life, or revealed in each other's presence the +existence of any deep feeling. + +Something beyond the power of word-analysis bound them together, +something hidden deep in the fibre of nations and families--for blood, +they say, is thicker than water--and neither of them was a cold-blooded +man. Indeed, in James love of his children was now the prime motive of +his existence. To have creatures who were parts of himself, to whom he +might transmit the money he saved, was at the root of his saving; and, at +seventy-five, what was left that could give him pleasure, but--saving? +The kernel of life was in this saving for his children. + +Than James Forsyte, notwithstanding all his 'Jonah-isms,' there was no +saner man (if the leading symptom of sanity, as we are told, is +self-preservation, though without doubt Timothy went too far) in all this +London, of which he owned so much, and loved with such a dumb love, as +the centre of his opportunities. He had the marvellous instinctive +sanity of the middle class. In him--more than in Jolyon, with his +masterful will and his moments of tenderness and philosophy--more than in +Swithin, the martyr to crankiness--Nicholas, the sufferer from +ability--and Roger, the victim of enterprise--beat the true pulse of +compromise; of all the brothers he was least remarkable in mind and +person, and for that reason more likely to live for ever. + +To James, more than to any of the others, was "the family" significant +and dear. There had always been something primitive and cosy in his +attitude towards life; he loved the family hearth, he loved gossip, and +he loved grumbling. All his decisions were formed of a cream which he +skimmed off the family mind; and, through that family, off the minds of +thousands of other families of similar fibre. Year after year, week +after week, he went to Timothy's, and in his brother's front +drawing-room--his legs twisted, his long white whiskers framing his +clean-shaven mouth--would sit watching the family pot simmer, the cream +rising to the top; and he would go away sheltered, refreshed, comforted, +with an indefinable sense of comfort. + +Beneath the adamant of his self-preserving instinct there was much real +softness in James; a visit to Timothy's was like an hour spent in the lap +of a mother; and the deep craving he himself had for the protection of +the family wing reacted in turn on his feelings towards his own children; +it was a nightmare to him to think of them exposed to the treatment of +the world, in money, health, or reputation. When his old friend John +Street's son volunteered for special service, he shook his head +querulously, and wondered what John Street was about to allow it; and +when young Street was assagaied, he took it so much to heart that he made +a point of calling everywhere with the special object of saying: He knew +how it would be--he'd no patience with them! + +When his son-in-law Dartie had that financial crisis, due to speculation +in Oil Shares, James made himself ill worrying over it; the knell of all +prosperity seemed to have sounded. It took him three months and a visit +to Baden-Baden to get better; there was something terrible in the idea +that but for his, James's, money, Dartie's name might have appeared in +the Bankruptcy List. + +Composed of a physiological mixture so sound that if he had an earache he +thought he was dying, he regarded the occasional ailments of his wife and +children as in the nature of personal grievances, special interventions +of Providence for the purpose of destroying his peace of mind; but he did +not believe at all in the ailments of people outside his own immediate +family, affirming them in every case to be due to neglected liver. + +His universal comment was: "What can they expect? I have it myself, if +I'm not careful!" + +When he went to Soames's that evening he felt that life was hard on him: +There was Emily with a bad toe, and Rachel gadding about in the country; +he got no sympathy from anybody; and Ann, she was ill--he did not believe +she would last through the summer; he had called there three times now +without her being able to see him! And this idea of Soames's, building a +house, that would have to be looked into. As to the trouble with Irene, +he didn't know what was to come of that--anything might come of it! + +He entered 62, Montpellier Square with the fullest intentions of being +miserable. It was already half-past seven, and Irene, dressed for +dinner, was seated in the drawing-room. She was wearing her +gold-coloured frock--for, having been displayed at a dinner-party, a +soiree, and a dance, it was now to be worn at home--and she had adorned +the bosom with a cascade of lace, on which James's eyes riveted +themselves at once. + +"Where do you get your things?" he said in an aggravated voice. "I never +see Rachel and Cicely looking half so well. That rose-point, now--that's +not real!" + +Irene came close, to prove to him that he was in error. + +And, in spite of himself, James felt the influence of her deference, of +the faint seductive perfume exhaling from her. No self-respecting +Forsyte surrendered at a blow; so he merely said: He didn't know--he +expected she was spending a pretty penny on dress. + +The gong sounded, and, putting her white arm within his, Irene took him +into the dining-room. She seated him in Soames's usual place, round the +corner on her left. The light fell softly there, so that he would not be +worried by the gradual dying of the day; and she began to talk to him +about himself. + +Presently, over James came a change, like the mellowing that steals upon +a fruit in the, sun; a sense of being caressed, and praised, and petted, +and all without the bestowal of a single caress or word of praise. He +felt that what he was eating was agreeing with him; he could not get that +feeling at home; he did not know when he had enjoyed a glass of champagne +so much, and, on inquiring the brand and price, was surprised to find +that it was one of which he had a large stock himself, but could never +drink; he instantly formed the resolution to let his wine merchant know +that he had been swindled. + +Looking up from his food, he remarked: + +"You've a lot of nice things about the place. Now, what did you give for +that sugar-sifter? Shouldn't wonder if it was worth money!" + +He was particularly pleased with the appearance of a picture, on the wall +opposite, which he himself had given them: + +"I'd no idea it was so good!" he said. + +They rose to go into the drawing-room, and James followed Irene closely. + +"That's what I call a capital little dinner," he murmured, breathing +pleasantly down on her shoulder; "nothing heavy--and not too Frenchified. +But I can't get it at home. I pay my cook sixty pounds a year, but she +can't give me a dinner like that!" + +He had as yet made no allusion to the building of the house, nor did he +when Soames, pleading the excuse of business, betook himself to the room +at the top, where he kept his pictures. + +James was left alone with his daughter-in-law. The glow of the wine, and +of an excellent liqueur, was still within him. He felt quite warm +towards her. She was really a taking little thing; she listened to you, +and seemed to understand what you were saying; and, while talking, he +kept examining her figure, from her bronze-coloured shoes to the waved +gold of her hair. She was leaning back in an Empire chair, her shoulders +poised against the top--her body, flexibly straight and unsupported from +the hips, swaying when she moved, as though giving to the arms of a +lover. Her lips were smiling, her eyes half-closed. + +It may have been a recognition of danger in the very charm of her +attitude, or a twang of digestion, that caused a sudden dumbness to fall +on James. He did not remember ever having been quite alone with Irene +before. And, as he looked at her, an odd feeling crept over him, as +though he had come across something strange and foreign. + +Now what was she thinking about--sitting back like that? + +Thus when he spoke it was in a sharper voice, as if he had been awakened +from a pleasant dream. + +"What d'you do with yourself all day?" he said. "You never come round to +Park Lane!" + +She seemed to be making very lame excuses, and James did not look at her. +He did not want to believe that she was really avoiding them--it would +mean too much. + +"I expect the fact is, you haven't time," he said; "You're always about +with June. I expect you're useful to her with her young man, +chaperoning, and one thing and another. They tell me she's never at home +now; your Uncle Jolyon he doesn't like it, I fancy, being left so much +alone as he is. They tell me she's always hanging about for this young +Bosinney; I suppose he comes here every day. Now, what do you think of +him? D'you think he knows his own mind? He seems to me a poor thing. I +should say the grey mare was the better horse!" + +The colour deepened in Irene's face; and James watched her suspiciously. + +"Perhaps you don't quite understand Mr. Bosinney," she said. + +"Don't understand him!" James hummed out: "Why not?--you can see he's one +of these artistic chaps. They say he's clever--they all think they're +clever. You know more about him than I do," he added; and again his +suspicious glance rested on her. + +"He is designing a house for Soames," she said softly, evidently trying +to smooth things over. + +"That brings me to what I was going to say," continued James; "I don't +know what Soames wants with a young man like that; why doesn't he go to a +first-rate man?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Bosinney is first-rate!" + +James rose, and took a turn with bent head. + +"That's it'," he said, "you young people, you all stick together; you all +think you know best!" + +Halting his tall, lank figure before her, he raised a finger, and +levelled it at her bosom, as though bringing an indictment against her +beauty: + +"All I can say is, these artistic people, or whatever they call +themselves, they're as unreliable as they can be; and my advice to you +is, don't you have too much to do with him!" + +Irene smiled; and in the curve of her lips was a strange provocation. +She seemed to have lost her deference. Her breast rose and fell as +though with secret anger; she drew her hands inwards from their rest on +the arms of her chair until the tips of her fingers met, and her dark +eyes looked unfathomably at James. + +The latter gloomily scrutinized the floor. + +"I tell you my opinion," he said, "it's a pity you haven't got a child to +think about, and occupy you!" + +A brooding look came instantly on Irene's face, and even James became +conscious of the rigidity that took possession of her whole figure +beneath the softness of its silk and lace clothing. + +He was frightened by the effect he had produced, and like most men with +but little courage, he sought at once to justify himself by bullying. + +"You don't seem to care about going about. Why don't you drive down to +Hurlingham with us? And go to the theatre now and then. At your time of +life you ought to take an interest in things. You're a young woman!" + +The brooding look darkened on her face; he grew nervous. + +"Well, I know nothing about it," he said; "nobody tells me anything. +Soames ought to be able to take care of himself. If he can't take care +of himself he mustn't look to me--that's all." + +Biting the corner of his forefinger he stole a cold, sharp look at his +daughter-in-law. + +He encountered her eyes fixed on his own, so dark and deep, that he +stopped, and broke into a gentle perspiration. + +"Well, I must be going," he said after a short pause, and a minute later +rose, with a slight appearance of surprise, as though he had expected to +be asked to stop. Giving his hand to Irene, he allowed himself to be +conducted to the door, and let out into the street. He would not have a +cab, he would walk, Irene was to say good-night to Soames for him, and if +she wanted a little gaiety, well, he would drive her down to Richmond any +day. + +He walked home, and going upstairs, woke Emily out of the first sleep she +had had for four and twenty hours, to tell her that it was his impression +things were in a bad way at Soames's; on this theme he descanted for half +an hour, until at last, saying that he would not sleep a wink, he turned +on his side and instantly began to snore. + +In Montpellier Square Soames, who had come from the picture room, stood +invisible at the top of the stairs, watching Irene sort the letters +brought by the last post. She turned back into the drawing-room; but in +a minute came out, and stood as if listening. Then she came stealing up +the stairs, with a kitten in her arms. He could see her face bent over +the little beast, which was purring against her neck. Why couldn't she +look at him like that? + +Suddenly she saw him, and her face changed. + +"Any letters for me?" he said. + +"Three." + +He stood aside, and without another word she passed on into the bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OLD JOLYON'S PECCADILLO + +Old Jolyon came out of Lord's cricket ground that same afternoon with the +intention of going home. He had not reached Hamilton Terrace before he +changed his mind, and hailing a cab, gave the driver an address in +Wistaria Avenue. He had taken a resolution. + +June had hardly been at home at all that week; she had given him nothing +of her company for a long time past, not, in fact, since she had become +engaged to Bosinney. He never asked her for her company. It was not his +habit to ask people for things! She had just that one idea now--Bosinney +and his affairs--and she left him stranded in his great house, with a +parcel of servants, and not a soul to speak to from morning to night. +His Club was closed for cleaning; his Boards in recess; there was +nothing, therefore, to take him into the City. June had wanted him to go +away; she would not go herself, because Bosinney was in London. + +But where was he to go by himself? He could not go abroad alone; the sea +upset his liver; he hated hotels. Roger went to a hydropathic--he was +not going to begin that at his time of life, those new-fangled places +we're all humbug! + +With such formulas he clothed to himself the desolation of his spirit; +the lines down his face deepening, his eyes day by day looking forth with +the melancholy which sat so strangely on a face wont to be strong and +serene. + +And so that afternoon he took this journey through St. John's Wood, in +the golden-light that sprinkled the rounded green bushes of the acacia's +before the little houses, in the summer sunshine that seemed holding a +revel over the little gardens; and he looked about him with interest; for +this was a district which no Forsyte entered without open disapproval and +secret curiosity. + +His cab stopped in front of a small house of that peculiar buff colour +which implies a long immunity from paint. It had an outer gate, and a +rustic approach. + +He stepped out, his bearing extremely composed; his massive head, with +its drooping moustache and wings of white hair, very upright, under an +excessively large top hat; his glance firm, a little angry. He had been +driven into this! + +"Mrs. Jolyon Forsyte at home?" + +"Oh, yes sir!--what name shall I say, if you please, sir?" + +Old Jolyon could not help twinkling at the little maid as he gave his +name. She seemed to him such a funny little toad! + +And he followed her through the dark hall, into a small double, +drawing-room, where the furniture was covered in chintz, and the little +maid placed him in a chair. + +"They're all in the garden, sir; if you'll kindly take a seat, I'll tell +them." + +Old Jolyon sat down in the chintz-covered chair, and looked around him. +The whole place seemed to him, as he would have expressed it, pokey; +there was a certain--he could not tell exactly what--air of shabbiness, +or rather of making two ends meet, about everything. As far as he could +see, not a single piece of furniture was worth a five-pound note. The +walls, distempered rather a long time ago, were decorated with +water-colour sketches; across the ceiling meandered a long crack. + +These little houses were all old, second-rate concerns; he should hope +the rent was under a hundred a year; it hurt him more than he could have +said, to think of a Forsyte--his own son living in such a place. + +The little maid came back. Would he please to go down into the garden? + +Old Jolyon marched out through the French windows. In descending the +steps he noticed that they wanted painting. + +Young Jolyon, his wife, his two children, and his dog Balthasar, were all +out there under a pear-tree. + +This walk towards them was the most courageous act of old Jolyon's life; +but no muscle of his face moved, no nervous gesture betrayed him. He +kept his deep-set eyes steadily on the enemy. + +In those two minutes he demonstrated to perfection all that unconscious +soundness, balance, and vitality of fibre that made, of him and so many +others of his class the core of the nation. In the unostentatious conduct +of their own affairs, to the neglect of everything else, they typified +the essential individualism, born in the Briton from the natural +isolation of his country's life. + +The dog Balthasar sniffed round the edges of his trousers; this friendly +and cynical mongrel--offspring of a liaison between a Russian poodle and +a fox-terrier--had a nose for the unusual. + +The strange greetings over, old Jolyon seated himself in a wicker chair, +and his two grandchildren, one on each side of his knees, looked at him +silently, never having seen so old a man. + +They were unlike, as though recognising the difference set between them +by the circumstances of their births. Jolly, the child of sin, +pudgy-faced, with his tow-coloured hair brushed off his forehead, and a +dimple in his chin, had an air of stubborn amiability, and the eyes of a +Forsyte; little Holly, the child of wedlock, was a dark-skinned, solemn +soul, with her mother's, grey and wistful eyes. + +The dog Balthasar, having walked round the three small flower-beds, to +show his extreme contempt for things at large, had also taken a seat in +front of old Jolyon, and, oscillating a tail curled by Nature tightly +over his back, was staring up with eyes that did not blink. + +Even in the garden, that sense of things being pokey haunted old Jolyon; +the wicker chair creaked under his weight; the garden-beds looked +'daverdy'; on the far side, under the smut-stained wall, cats had made a +path. + +While he and his grandchildren thus regarded each other with the peculiar +scrutiny, curious yet trustful, that passes between the very young and +the very old, young Jolyon watched his wife. + +The colour had deepened in her thin, oval face, with its straight brows, +and large, grey eyes. Her hair, brushed in fine, high curves back from +her forehead, was going grey, like his own, and this greyness made the +sudden vivid colour in her cheeks painfully pathetic. + +The look on her face, such as he had never seen there before, such as she +had always hidden from him, was full of secret resentments, and longings, +and fears. Her eyes, under their twitching brows, stared painfully. And +she was silent. + +Jolly alone sustained the conversation; he had many possessions, and was +anxious that his unknown friend with extremely large moustaches, and +hands all covered with blue veins, who sat with legs crossed like his own +father (a habit he was himself trying to acquire), should know it; but +being a Forsyte, though not yet quite eight years old, he made no mention +of the thing at the moment dearest to his heart--a camp of soldiers in a +shop-window, which his father had promised to buy. No doubt it seemed to +him too precious; a tempting of Providence to mention it yet. + +And the sunlight played through the leaves on that little party of the +three generations grouped tranquilly under the pear-tree, which had long +borne no fruit. + +Old Jolyon's furrowed face was reddening patchily, as old men's faces +redden in the sun. He took one of Jolly's hands in his own; the boy +climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized by this sight, crept +up to them; the sound of the dog Balthasar's scratching arose +rhythmically. + +Suddenly young Mrs. Jolyon got up and hurried indoors. A minute later +her husband muttered an excuse, and followed. Old Jolyon was left alone +with his grandchildren. + +And Nature with her quaint irony began working in him one of her strange +revolutions, following her cyclic laws into the depths of his heart. And +that tenderness for little children, that passion for the beginnings of +life which had once made him forsake his son and follow June, now worked +in him to forsake June and follow these littler things. Youth, like a +flame, burned ever in his breast, and to youth he turned, to the round +little limbs, so reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so +unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the shrill, +chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and the feel of small +bodies against his legs, to all that was young and young, and once more +young. And his eyes grew soft, his voice, and thin-veined hands soft, +and soft his heart within him. And to those small creatures he became at +once a place of pleasure, a place where they were secure, and could talk +and laugh and play; till, like sunshine, there radiated from old Jolyon's +wicker chair the perfect gaiety of three hearts. + +But with young Jolyon following to his wife's room it was different. + +He found her seated on a chair before her dressing-glass, with her hands +before her face. + +Her shoulders were shaking with sobs. This passion of hers for suffering +was mysterious to him. He had been through a hundred of these moods; how +he had survived them he never knew, for he could never believe they were +moods, and that the last hour of his partnership had not struck. + +In the night she would be sure to throw her arms round his neck and say: +"Oh! Jo, how I make you suffer!" as she had done a hundred times before. + +He reached out his hand, and, unseen, slipped his razor-case into his +pocket. 'I cannot stay here,' he thought, 'I must go down!' Without a +word he left the room, and went back to the lawn. + +Old Jolyon had little Holly on his knee; she had taken possession of his +watch; Jolly, very red in the face, was trying to show that he could +stand on his head. The dog Balthasar, as close as he might be to the +tea-table, had fixed his eyes on the cake. + +Young Jolyon felt a malicious desire to cut their enjoyment short. + +What business had his father to come and upset his wife like this? It +was a shock, after all these years! He ought to have known; he ought to +have given them warning; but when did a Forsyte ever imagine that his +conduct could upset anybody! And in his thoughts he did old Jolyon +wrong. + +He spoke sharply to the children, and told them to go in to their tea. +Greatly surprised, for they had never heard their father speak sharply +before, they went off, hand in hand, little Holly looking back over her +shoulder. + +Young Jolyon poured out the tea. + +"My wife's not the thing today," he said, but he knew well enough that +his father had penetrated the cause of that sudden withdrawal, and almost +hated the old man for sitting there so calmly. + +"You've got a nice little house here," said old Jolyon with a shrewd +look; "I suppose you've taken a lease of it!" + +Young Jolyon nodded. + +"I don't like the neighbourhood," said old Jolyon; "a ramshackle lot." + +Young Jolyon replied: "Yes, we're a ramshackle lot."' + +The silence was now only broken by the sound of the dog Balthasar's +scratching. + +Old Jolyon said simply: "I suppose I oughtn't to have come here, Jo; but +I get so lonely!" + +At these words young Jolyon got up and put his hand on his father's +shoulder. + +In the next house someone was playing over and over again: 'La Donna +mobile' on an untuned piano; and the little garden had fallen into shade, +the sun now only reached the wall at the end, whereon basked a crouching +cat, her yellow eyes turned sleepily down on the dog Balthasar. There +was a drowsy hum of very distant traffic; the creepered trellis round the +garden shut out everything but sky, and house, and pear-tree, with its +top branches still gilded by the sun. + +For some time they sat there, talking but little. Then old Jolyon rose +to go, and not a word was said about his coming again. + +He walked away very sadly. What a poor miserable place; and he thought +of the great, empty house in Stanhope Gate, fit residence for a Forsyte, +with its huge billiard-room and drawing-room that no one entered from one +week's end to another. + +That woman, whose face he had rather liked, was too thin-skinned by half; +she gave Jo a bad time he knew! And those sweet children! Ah! what a +piece of awful folly! + +He walked towards the Edgware Road, between rows of little houses, all +suggesting to him (erroneously no doubt, but the prejudices of a Forsyte +are sacred) shady histories of some sort or kind. + +Society, forsooth, the chattering hags and jackanapes--had set themselves +up to pass judgment on his flesh and blood! A parcel of old women! He +stumped his umbrella on the ground, as though to drive it into the heart +of that unfortunate body, which had dared to ostracize his son and his +son's son, in whom he could have lived again! + +He stumped his umbrella fiercely; yet he himself had followed Society's +behaviour for fifteen years--had only today been false to it! + +He thought of June, and her dead mother, and the whole story, with all +his old bitterness. A wretched business! + +He was a long time reaching Stanhope Gate, for, with native perversity, +being extremely tired, he walked the whole way. + +After washing his hands in the lavatory downstairs, he went to the +dining-room to wait for dinner, the only room he used when June was +out--it was less lonely so. The evening paper had not yet come; he had +finished the Times, there was therefore nothing to do. + +The room faced the backwater of traffic, and was very silent. He +disliked dogs, but a dog even would have been company. His gaze, +travelling round the walls, rested on a picture entitled: 'Group of Dutch +fishing boats at sunset'; the chef d'oeuvre of his collection. It gave +him no pleasure. He closed his eyes. He was lonely! He oughtn't to +complain, he knew, but he couldn't help it: He was a poor thing--had +always been a poor thing--no pluck! Such was his thought. + +The butler came to lay the table for dinner, and seeing his master +apparently asleep, exercised extreme caution in his movements. This +bearded man also wore a moustache, which had given rise to grave doubts +in the minds of many members--of the family--, especially those who, like +Soames, had been to public schools, and were accustomed to niceness in +such matters. Could he really be considered a butler? Playful spirits +alluded to him as: 'Uncle Jolyon's Nonconformist'; George, the +acknowledged wag, had named him: 'Sankey.' + +He moved to and fro between the great polished sideboard and the great +polished table inimitably sleek and soft. + +Old Jolyon watched him, feigning sleep. The fellow was a sneak--he had +always thought so--who cared about nothing but rattling through his work, +and getting out to his betting or his woman or goodness knew what! A +slug! Fat too! And didn't care a pin about his master! + +But then against his will, came one of those moments of philosophy which +made old Jolyon different from other Forsytes: + +After all why should the man care? He wasn't paid to care, and why +expect it? In this world people couldn't look for affection unless they +paid for it. It might be different in the next--he didn't know--couldn't +tell! And again he shut his eyes. + +Relentless and stealthy, the butler pursued his labours, taking things +from the various compartments of the sideboard. His back seemed always +turned to old Jolyon; thus, he robbed his operations of the unseemliness +of being carried on in his master's presence; now and then he furtively +breathed on the silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather. He +appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, which he +carried carefully and rather high, letting his heard droop over them +protectingly. When he had finished, he stood for over a minute watching +his master, and in his greenish eyes there was a look of contempt: + +After all, this master of his was an old buffer, who hadn't much left in +him! + +Soft as a tom-cat, he crossed the room to press the bell. His orders +were 'dinner at seven.' What if his master were asleep; he would soon +have him out of that; there was the night to sleep in! He had himself to +think of, for he was due at his Club at half-past eight! + +In answer to the ring, appeared a page boy with a silver soup tureen. +The butler took it from his hands and placed it on the table, then, +standing by the open door, as though about to usher company into the +room, he said in a solemn voice: + +"Dinner is on the table, sir!" + +Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the table to +eat his dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +PLANS OF THE HOUSE + +Forsytes, as is generally admitted, have shells, like that extremely +useful little animal which is made into Turkish delight, in other words, +they are never seen, or if seen would not be recognised, without +habitats, composed of circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives, +which seem to move along with them in their passage through a world +composed of thousands of other Forsytes with their habitats. Without a +habitat a Forsyte is inconceivable--he would be like a novel without a +plot, which is well-known to be an anomaly. + +To Forsyte eyes Bosinney appeared to have no habitat, he seemed one of +those rare and unfortunate men who go through life surrounded by +circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives that do not belong to +them. + +His rooms in Sloane Street, on the top floor, outside which, on a plate, +was his name, 'Philip Baynes Bosinney, Architect,' were not those of a +Forsyte.--He had no sitting-room apart from his office, but a large +recess had been screened off to conceal the necessaries of life--a couch, +an easy chair, his pipes, spirit case, novels and slippers. The business +part of the room had the usual furniture; an open cupboard with +pigeon-holes, a round oak table, a folding wash-stand, some hard chairs, +a standing desk of large dimensions covered with drawings and designs. +June had twice been to tea there under the chaperonage of his aunt. + +He was believed to have a bedroom at the back. + +As far as the family had been able to ascertain his income, it consisted +of two consulting appointments at twenty pounds a year, together with an +odd fee once in a way, and--more worthy item--a private annuity under his +father's will of one hundred and fifty pounds a year. + +What had transpired concerning that father was not so reassuring. It +appeared that he had been a Lincolnshire country doctor of Cornish +extraction, striking appearance, and Byronic tendencies--a well-known +figure, in fact, in his county. Bosinney's uncle by marriage, Baynes, of +Baynes and Bildeboy, a Forsyte in instincts if not in name, had but +little that was worthy to relate of his brother-in-law. + +"An odd fellow!' he would say: 'always spoke of his three eldest boys as +'good creatures, but so dull'; they're all doing capitally in the Indian +Civil! Philip was the only one he liked. I've heard him talk in the +queerest way; he once said to me: 'My dear fellow, never let your poor +wife know what you're thinking of! But I didn't follow his advice; not +I! An eccentric man! He would say to Phil: 'Whether you live like a +gentleman or not, my boy, be sure you die like one! and he had himself +embalmed in a frock coat suit, with a satin cravat and a diamond pin. +Oh, quite an original, I can assure you!" + +Of Bosinney himself Baynes would speak warmly, with a certain compassion: +"He's got a streak of his father's Byronism. Why, look at the way he +threw up his chances when he left my office; going off like that for six +months with a knapsack, and all for what?--to study foreign +architecture--foreign! What could he expect? And there he is--a clever +young fellow--doesn't make his hundred a year! Now this engagement is +the best thing that could have happened--keep him steady; he's one of +those that go to bed all day and stay up all night, simply because +they've no method; but no vice about him--not an ounce of vice. Old +Forsyte's a rich man!" + +Mr. Baynes made himself extremely pleasant to June, who frequently +visited his house in Lowndes Square at this period. + +"This house of your cousin's--what a capital man of business--is the very +thing for Philip," he would say to her; "you mustn't expect to see too +much of him just now, my dear young lady. The good cause--the good +cause! The young man must make his way. When I was his age I was at work +day and night. My dear wife used to say to me, 'Bobby, don't work too +hard, think of your health'; but I never spared myself!" + +June had complained that her lover found no time to come to Stanhope +Gate. + +The first time he came again they had not been together a quarter of an +hour before, by one of those coincidences of which she was a mistress, +Mrs. Septimus Small arrived. Thereon Bosinney rose and hid himself, +according to previous arrangement, in the little study, to wait for her +departure. + +"My dear," said Aunt Juley, "how thin he is! I've often noticed it with +engaged people; but you mustn't let it get worse. There's Barlow's +extract of veal; it did your Uncle Swithin a lot of good." + +June, her little figure erect before the hearth, her small face quivering +grimly, for she regarded her aunt's untimely visit in the light of a +personal injury, replied with scorn: + +"It's because he's busy; people who can do anything worth doing are never +fat!" + +Aunt Juley pouted; she herself had always been thin, but the only +pleasure she derived from the fact was the opportunity of longing to be +stouter. + +"I don't think," she said mournfully, "that you ought to let them call +him 'The Buccaneer'; people might think it odd, now that he's going to +build a house for Soames. I do hope he will be careful; it's so +important for him. Soames has such good taste!" + +"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for his +taste, or any of the family's!" + +Mrs. Small was taken aback. + +"Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And +Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't think +so!" + +"H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!" + +Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: + +"And how will dear Irene like living in the country?" + +June gazed at her intently, with a look in her eyes as if her conscience +had suddenly leaped up into them; it passed; and an even more intent look +took its place, as if she had stared that conscience out of countenance. +She replied imperiously: + +"Of course she'll like it; why shouldn't she?" + +Mrs. Small grew nervous. + +"I didn't know," she said; "I thought she mightn't like to leave her +friends. Your Uncle James says she doesn't take enough interest in life. +We think--I mean Timothy thinks--she ought to go out more. I expect +you'll miss her very much!" + +June clasped her hands behind her neck. + +"I do wish," she cried, "Uncle Timothy wouldn't talk about what doesn't +concern him!" + +Aunt Juley rose to the full height of her tall figure. + +"He never talks about what doesn't concern him," she said. + +June was instantly compunctious; she ran to her aunt and kissed her. + +"I'm very sorry, auntie; but I wish they'd let Irene alone." + +Aunt Juley, unable to think of anything further on the subject that would +be suitable, was silent; she prepared for departure, hooking her black +silk cape across her chest, and, taking up her green reticule: + +"And how is your dear grandfather?" she asked in the hall, "I expect he's +very lonely now that all your time is taken up with Mr. Bosinney." + +She bent and kissed her niece hungrily, and with little, mincing steps +passed away. + +The tears sprang up in June's eyes; running into the little study, where +Bosinney was sitting at the table drawing birds on the back of an +envelope, she sank down by his side and cried: + +"Oh, Phil! it's all so horrid!" Her heart was as warm as the colour of +her hair. + +On the following Sunday morning, while Soames was shaving, a message was +brought him to the effect that Mr. Bosinney was below, and would be glad +to see him. Opening the door into his wife's room, he said: + +"Bosinney's downstairs. Just go and entertain him while I finish +shaving. I'll be down in a minute. It's about the plans, I expect." + +Irene looked at him, without reply, put the finishing touch to her dress +and went downstairs. He could not make her out about this house. She +had said nothing against it, and, as far as Bosinney was concerned, +seemed friendly enough. + +From the window of his dressing-room he could see them talking together +in the little court below. He hurried on with his shaving, cutting his +chin twice. He heard them laugh, and thought to himself: "Well, they get +on all right, anyway!" + +As he expected, Bosinney had come round to fetch him to look at the +plans. + +He took his hat and went over. + +The plans were spread on the oak table in the architect's room; and pale, +imperturbable, inquiring, Soames bent over them for a long time without +speaking. + +He said at last in a puzzled voice: + +"It's an odd sort of house!" + +A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle round a +covered-in court. This court, encircled by a gallery on the upper floor, +was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight columns running up from +the ground. + +It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house. + +"There's a lot of room cut to waste," pursued Soames. + +Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the expression on +his face. + +"The principle of this house," said the architect, "was that you should +have room to breathe--like a gentleman!" + +Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent of the +distinction he should acquire; and replied: + +"Oh! yes; I see." + +The peculiar look came into Bosinney's face which marked all his +enthusiasms. + +"I've tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of its own. +If you don't like it, you'd better say so. It's certainly the last +thing to be considered--who wants self-respect in a house, when you can +squeeze in an extra lavatory?" He put his finger suddenly down on the +left division of the centre oblong: "You can swing a cat here. This is +for your pictures, divided from this court by curtains; draw them back +and you'll have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six. This +double-faced stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, +one way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; You've a +southeast light from that, a north light from the court. The rest of +your pictures you can hang round the gallery upstairs, or in the other +rooms." "In architecture," he went on--and though looking at Soames he +did not seem to see him, which gave Soames an unpleasant feeling--"as in +life, you'll get no self-respect without regularity. Fellows tell you +that's old fashioned. It appears to be peculiar any way; it never occurs +to us to embody the main principle of life in our buildings; we load our +houses with decoration, gimcracks, corners, anything to distract the eye. +On the contrary the eye should rest; get your effects with a few strong +lines. The whole thing is regularity there's no self-respect without +it." + +Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinney's tie, which +was far from being in the perpendicular; he was unshaven too, and his +dress not remarkable for order. Architecture appeared to have exhausted +his regularity. + +"Won't it look like a barrack?" he inquired. + +He did not at once receive a reply. + +"I can see what it is," said Bosinney, "you want one of Littlemaster's +houses--one of the pretty and commodious sort, where the servants will +live in garrets, and the front door be sunk so that you may come up +again. By all means try Littlemaster, you'll find him a capital fellow, +I've known him all my life!" + +Soames was alarmed. He had really been struck by the plans, and the +concealment of his satisfaction had been merely instinctive. It was +difficult for him to pay a compliment. He despised people who were +lavish with their praises. + +He found himself now in the embarrassing position of one who must pay a +compliment or run the risk of losing a good thing. Bosinney was just the +fellow who might tear up the plans and refuse to act for him; a kind of +grown-up child! + +This grown-up childishness, to which he felt so superior, exercised a +peculiar and almost mesmeric effect on Soames, for he had never felt +anything like it in himself. + +"Well," he stammered at last, "it's--it's, certainly original." + +He had such a private distrust and even dislike of the word 'original' +that he felt he had not really given himself away by this remark. + +Bosinney seemed pleased. It was the sort of thing that would please a +fellow like that! And his success encouraged Soames. + +"It's--a big place," he said. + +"Space, air, light," he heard Bosinney murmur, "you can't live like a +gentleman in one of Littlemaster's--he builds for manufacturers." + +Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a +gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed with +manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general principles revived. +What the deuce was the good of talking about regularity and self-respect? +It looked to him as if the house would be cold. + +"Irene can't stand the cold!" he said. + +"Ah!" said Bosinney sarcastically. "Your wife? She doesn't like the +cold? I'll see to that; she shan't be cold. Look here!" he pointed, to +four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the court. "I've given +you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you can get them with very good +designs." + +Soames looked suspiciously at these marks. + +"It's all very well, all this," he said, "but what's it going to cost?" + +The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket: + +"The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as I +thought you wouldn't stand that, I've compromised for a facing. It ought +to have a copper roof, but I've made it green slate. As it is, including +metal work, it'll cost you eight thousand five hundred." + +"Eight thousand five hundred?" said Soames. "Why, I gave you an outside +limit of eight!" + +"Can't be done for a penny less," replied Bosinney coolly. + +"You must take it or leave it!" + +It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have been +made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to throw the +whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew it--there was +completeness about it, and dignity; the servants' apartments were +excellent too. He would gain credit by living in a house like that--with +such individual features, yet perfectly well-arranged. + +He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his bedroom +to shave and dress. + +The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames watching him +out of the corner of his eye. + +The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow--so he thought--when he +was properly got up. + +Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in. + +She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June. + +"No, no," said Soames, "we've still got business to talk over!" + +At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to eat. He +was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, and left him to +spend the afternoon with Irene, while he stole off to his pictures, after +his Sunday habit. At tea-time he came down to the drawing-room, and +found them talking, as he expressed it, nineteen to the dozen. + +Unobserved in the doorway, he congratulated himself that things were +taking the right turn. It was lucky she and Bosinney got on; she seemed +to be falling into line with the idea of the new house. + +Quiet meditation among his pictures had decided him to spring the five +hundred if necessary; but he hoped that the afternoon might have softened +Bosinney's estimates. It was so purely a matter which Bosinney could +remedy if he liked; there must be a dozen ways in which he could cheapen +the production of a house without spoiling the effect. + +He awaited, therefore, his opportunity till Irene was handing the +architect his first cup of tea. A chink of sunshine through the lace of +the blinds warmed her cheek, shone in the gold of her hair, and in her +soft eyes. Possibly the same gleam deepened Bosinney's colour, gave the +rather startled look to his face. + +Soames hated sunshine, and he at once got up, to draw the blind. Then he +took his own cup of tea from his wife, and said, more coldly than he had +intended: + +"Can't you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? There must +be a lot of little things you could alter." + +Bosinney drank off his tea at a gulp, put down his cup, and answered: + +"Not one!" + +Soames saw that his suggestion had touched some unintelligible point of +personal vanity. + +"Well," he agreed, with sulky resignation; "you must have it your own +way, I suppose." + +A few minutes later Bosinney rose to go, and Soames rose too, to see him +off the premises. The architect seemed in absurdly high spirits. After +watching him walk away at a swinging pace, Soames returned moodily to the +drawing-room, where Irene was putting away the music, and, moved by an +uncontrollable spasm of curiosity, he asked: + +"Well, what do you think of 'The Buccaneer'?" + +He looked at the carpet while waiting for her answer, and he had to wait +some time. + +"I don't know," she said at last. + +"Do you think he's good-looking?" + +Irene smiled. And it seemed to Soames that she was mocking him. + +"Yes," she answered; "very." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DEATH OF AUNT ANN + +There came a morning at the end of September when Aunt Ann was unable to +take from Smither's hands the insignia of personal dignity. After one +look at the old face, the doctor, hurriedly sent for, announced that Miss +Forsyte had passed away in her sleep. + +Aunts Juley and Hester were overwhelmed by the shock. They had never +imagined such an ending. Indeed, it is doubtful whether they had ever +realized that an ending was bound to come. Secretly they felt it +unreasonable of Ann to have left them like this without a word, without +even a struggle. It was unlike her. + +Perhaps what really affected them so profoundly was the thought that a +Forsyte should have let go her grasp on life. If one, then why not all! + +It was a full hour before they could make up their minds to tell Timothy. +If only it could be kept from him! If only it could be broken to him by +degrees! + +And long they stood outside his door whispering together. And when it +was over they whispered together again. + +He would feel it more, they were afraid, as time went on. Still, he had +taken it better than could have been expected. He would keep his bed, of +course! + +They separated, crying quietly. + +Aunt Juley stayed in her room, prostrated by the blow. Her face, +discoloured by tears, was divided into compartments by the little ridges +of pouting flesh which had swollen with emotion. It was impossible to +conceive of life without Ann, who had lived with her for seventy-three +years, broken only by the short interregnum of her married life, which +seemed now so unreal. At fixed intervals she went to her drawer, and +took from beneath the lavender bags a fresh pocket-handkerchief. Her +warm heart could not bear the thought that Ann was lying there so cold. + +Aunt Hester, the silent, the patient, that backwater of the family +energy, sat in the drawing-room, where the blinds were drawn; and she, +too, had wept at first, but quietly, without visible effect. Her guiding +principle, the conservation of energy, did not abandon her in sorrow. +She sat, slim, motionless, studying the grate, her hands idle in the lap +of her black silk dress. They would want to rouse her into doing +something, no doubt. As if there were any good in that! Doing something +would not bring back Ann! Why worry her? + +Five o'clock brought three of the brothers, Jolyon and James and Swithin; +Nicholas was at Yarmouth, and Roger had a bad attack of gout. Mrs. +Hayman had been by herself earlier in the day, and, after seeing Ann, had +gone away, leaving a message for Timothy--which was kept from him--that +she ought to have been told sooner. In fact, there was a feeling amongst +them all that they ought to have been told sooner, as though they had +missed something; and James said: + +"I knew how it'd be; I told you she wouldn't last through the summer." + +Aunt Hester made no reply; it was nearly October, but what was the good +of arguing; some people were never satisfied. + +She sent up to tell her sister that the brothers were there. Mrs. Small +came down at once. She had bathed her face, which was still swollen, and +though she looked severely at Swithin's trousers, for they were of light +blue--he had come straight from the club, where the news had reached +him--she wore a more cheerful expression than usual, the instinct for +doing the wrong thing being even now too strong for her. + +Presently all five went up to look at the body. Under the pure white +sheet a quilted counter-pane had been placed, for now, more than ever, +Aunt Ann had need of warmth; and, the pillows removed, her spine and head +rested flat, with the semblance of their life-long inflexibility; the +coif banding the top of her brow was drawn on either side to the level of +the ears, and between it and the sheet her face, almost as white, was +turned with closed eyes to the faces of her brothers and sisters. In its +extraordinary peace the face was stronger than ever, nearly all bone now +under the scarce-wrinkled parchment of skin--square jaw and chin, +cheekbones, forehead with hollow temples, chiselled nose--the fortress of +an unconquerable spirit that had yielded to death, and in its upward +sightlessness seemed trying to regain that spirit, to regain the +guardianship it had just laid down. + +Swithin took but one look at the face, and left the room; the sight, he +said afterwards, made him very queer. He went downstairs shaking the +whole house, and, seizing his hat, clambered into his brougham, without +giving any directions to the coachman. He was driven home, and all the +evening sat in his chair without moving. + +He could take nothing for dinner but a partridge, with an imperial pint +of champagne.... + +Old Jolyon stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands folded in front of +him. He alone of those in the room remembered the death of his mother, +and though he looked at Ann, it was of that he was thinking. Ann was an +old woman, but death had come to her at last--death came to all! His +face did not move, his gaze seemed travelling from very far. + +Aunt Hester stood beside him. She did not cry now, tears were +exhausted--her nature refused to permit a further escape of force; she +twisted her hands, looking not at Ann, but from side to side, seeking +some way of escaping the effort of realization. + +Of all the brothers and sisters James manifested the most emotion. Tears +rolled down the parallel furrows of his thin face; where he should go now +to tell his troubles he did not know; Juley was no good, Hester worse +than useless! He felt Ann's death more than he had ever thought he +should; this would upset him for weeks! + +Presently Aunt Hester stole out, and Aunt Juley began moving about, doing +'what was necessary,' so that twice she knocked against something. Old +Jolyon, roused from his reverie, that reverie of the long, long past, +looked sternly at her, and went away. James alone was left by the +bedside; glancing stealthily round, to see that he was not observed, he +twisted his long body down, placed a kiss on the dead forehead, then he, +too, hastily left the room. Encountering Smither in the hall, he began +to ask her about the funeral, and, finding that she knew nothing, +complained bitterly that, if they didn't take care, everything would go +wrong. She had better send for Mr. Soames--he knew all about that sort +of thing; her master was very much upset, he supposed--he would want +looking after; as for her mistresses, they were no good--they had no +gumption! They would be ill too, he shouldn't wonder. She had better +send for the doctor; it was best to take things in time. He didn't think +his sister Ann had had the best opinion; if she'd had Blank she would +have been alive now. Smither might send to Park Lane any time she wanted +advice. Of course, his carriage was at their service for the funeral. +He supposed she hadn't such a thing as a glass of claret and a +biscuit--he had had no lunch! + +The days before the funeral passed quietly. It had long been known, of +course, that Aunt Ann had left her little property to Timothy. There +was, therefore, no reason for the slightest agitation. Soames, who was +sole executor, took charge of all arrangements, and in due course sent +out the following invitation to every male member of the family: + +To........... + +Your presence is requested at the funeral of Miss Ann Forsyte, in +Highgate Cemetery, at noon of Oct. 1st. Carriages will meet at "The +Bower," Bayswater Road, at 10.45. No flowers by request. +'R.S.V.P.' + +The morning came, cold, with a high, grey, London sky, and at half-past +ten the first carriage, that of James, drove up. It contained James and +his son-in-law Dartie, a fine man, with a square chest, buttoned very +tightly into a frock coat, and a sallow, fattish face adorned with dark, +well-curled moustaches, and that incorrigible commencement of whisker +which, eluding the strictest attempts at shaving, seems the mark of +something deeply ingrained in the personality of the shaver, being +especially noticeable in men who speculate. + +Soames, in his capacity of executor, received the guests, for Timothy +still kept his bed; he would get up after the funeral; and Aunts Juley +and Hester would not be coming down till all was over, when it was +understood there would be lunch for anyone who cared to come back. The +next to arrive was Roger, still limping from the gout, and encircled by +three of his sons--young Roger, Eustace, and Thomas. George, the +remaining son, arrived almost immediately afterwards in a hansom, and +paused in the hall to ask Soames how he found undertaking pay. + +They disliked each other. + +Then came two Haymans--Giles and Jesse perfectly silent, and very well +dressed, with special creases down their evening trousers. Then old +Jolyon alone. Next, Nicholas, with a healthy colour in his face, and a +carefully veiled sprightliness in every movement of his head and body. +One of his sons followed him, meek and subdued. Swithin Forsyte, and +Bosinney arrived at the same moment,--and stood--bowing precedence to +each other,--but on the door opening they tried to enter together; they +renewed their apologies in the hall, and, Swithin, settling his stock, +which had become disarranged in the struggle, very slowly mounted the +stairs. The other Hayman; two married sons of Nicholas, together with +Tweetyman, Spender, and Warry, the husbands of married Forsyte and Hayman +daughters. The company was then complete, twenty-one in all, not a male +member of the family being absent but Timothy and young Jolyon. + +Entering the scarlet and green drawing-room, whose apparel made so vivid +a setting for their unaccustomed costumes, each tried nervously to find a +seat, desirous of hiding the emphatic blackness of his trousers. There +seemed a sort of indecency in that blackness and in the colour of their +gloves--a sort of exaggeration of the feelings; and many cast shocked +looks of secret envy at 'the Buccaneer,' who had no gloves, and was +wearing grey trousers. A subdued hum of conversation rose, no one +speaking of the departed, but each asking after the other, as though +thereby casting an indirect libation to this event, which they had come +to honour. + +And presently James said: + +"Well, I think we ought to be starting." + +They went downstairs, and, two and two, as they had been told off in +strict precedence, mounted the carriages. + +The hearse started at a foot's pace; the carriages moved slowly after. +In the first went old Jolyon with Nicholas; in the second, the twins, +Swithin and James; in the third, Roger and young Roger; Soames, young +Nicholas, George, and Bosinney followed in the fourth. Each of the other +carriages, eight in all, held three or four of the family; behind them +came the doctor's brougham; then, at a decent interval, cabs containing +family clerks and servants; and at the very end, one containing nobody at +all, but bringing the total cortege up to the number of thirteen. + +So long as the procession kept to the highway of the Bayswater Road, it +retained the foot's-pace, but, turning into less important +thorough-fares, it soon broke into a trot, and so proceeded, with +intervals of walking in the more fashionable streets, until it arrived. +In the first carriage old Jolyon and Nicholas were talking of their +wills. In the second the twins, after a single attempt, had lapsed into +complete silence; both were rather deaf, and the exertion of making +themselves heard was too great. Only once James broke this silence: + +"I shall have to be looking about for some ground somewhere. What +arrangements have you made, Swithin?" + +And Swithin, fixing him with a dreadful stare, answered: + +"Don't talk to me about such things!" + +In the third carriage a disjointed conversation was carried on in the +intervals of looking out to see how far they had got, George remarking, +"Well, it was really time that the poor old lady went." He didn't +believe in people living beyond seventy, Young Nicholas replied mildly +that the rule didn't seem to apply to the Forsytes. George said he +himself intended to commit suicide at sixty. Young Nicholas, smiling and +stroking a long chin, didn't think his father would like that theory; he +had made a lot of money since he was sixty. Well, seventy was the +outside limit; it was then time, George said, for them to go and leave +their money to their children. Soames, hitherto silent, here joined in; +he had not forgotten the remark about the 'undertaking,' and, lifting his +eyelids almost imperceptibly, said it was all very well for people who +never made money to talk. He himself intended to live as long as he +could. This was a hit at George, who was notoriously hard up. Bosinney +muttered abstractedly "Hear, hear!" and, George yawning, the conversation +dropped. + +Upon arriving, the coffin was borne into the chapel, and, two by two, the +mourners filed in behind it. This guard of men, all attached to the dead +by the bond of kinship, was an impressive and singular sight in the great +city of London, with its overwhelming diversity of life, its innumerable +vocations, pleasures, duties, its terrible hardness, its terrible call to +individualism. + +The family had gathered to triumph over all this, to give a show of +tenacious unity, to illustrate gloriously that law of property underlying +the growth of their tree, by which it had thriven and spread, trunk and +branches, the sap flowing through all, the full growth reached at the +appointed time. The spirit of the old woman lying in her last sleep had +called them to this demonstration. It was her final appeal to that unity +which had been their strength--it was her final triumph that she had died +while the tree was yet whole. + +She was spared the watching of the branches jut out beyond the point of +balance. She could not look into the hearts of her followers. The same +law that had worked in her, bringing her up from a tall, straight-backed +slip of a girl to a woman strong and grown, from a woman grown to a woman +old, angular, feeble, almost witchlike, with individuality all sharpened +and sharpened, as all rounding from the world's contact fell off from +her--that same law would work, was working, in the family she had watched +like a mother. + +She had seen it young, and growing, she had seen it strong and grown, and +before her old eyes had time or strength to see any more, she died. She +would have tried, and who knows but she might have kept it young and +strong, with her old fingers, her trembling kisses--a little longer; +alas! not even Aunt Ann could fight with Nature. + +'Pride comes before a fall!' In accordance with this, the greatest of +Nature's ironies, the Forsyte family had gathered for a last proud +pageant before they fell. Their faces to right and left, in single +lines, were turned for the most part impassively toward the ground, +guardians of their thoughts; but here and there, one looking upward, with +a line between his brows, searched to see some sight on the chapel walls +too much for him, to be listening to something that appalled. And the +responses, low-muttered, in voices through which rose the same tone, the +same unseizable family ring, sounded weird, as though murmured in hurried +duplication by a single person. + +The service in the chapel over, the mourners filed up again to guard the +body to the tomb. The vault stood open, and, round it, men in black were +waiting. + +From that high and sacred field, where thousands of the upper middle +class lay in their last sleep, the eyes of the Forsytes travelled down +across the flocks of graves. There--spreading to the distance, lay +London, with no sun over it, mourning the loss of its daughter, mourning +with this family, so dear, the loss of her who was mother and guardian. +A hundred thousand spires and houses, blurred in the great grey web of +property, lay there like prostrate worshippers before the grave of this, +the oldest Forsyte of them all. + +A few words, a sprinkle of earth, the thrusting of the coffin home, and +Aunt Ann had passed to her last rest. + +Round the vault, trustees of that passing, the five brothers stood, with +white heads bowed; they would see that Ann was comfortable where she was +going. Her little property must stay behind, but otherwise, all that +could be should be done.... + +Then severally, each stood aside, and putting on his hat, turned back to +inspect the new inscription on the marble of the family vault: + +SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ANN FORSYTE, THE DAUGHTER OF THE ABOVE JOLYON AND +ANN FORSYTE, WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE THE 27TH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, 1886, AGED +EIGHTY-SEVEN YEARS AND FOUR DAYS + +Soon perhaps, someone else would be wanting an inscription. It was +strange and intolerable, for they had not thought somehow, that Forsytes +could die. And one and all they had a longing to get away from this +painfulness, this ceremony which had reminded them of things they could +not bear to think about--to get away quickly and go about their business +and forget. + +It was cold, too; the wind, like some slow, disintegrating force, blowing +up the hill over the graves, struck them with its chilly breath; they +began to split into groups, and as quickly as possible to fill the +waiting carriages. + +Swithin said he should go back to lunch at Timothy's, and he offered to +take anybody with him in his brougham. It was considered a doubtful +privilege to drive with Swithin in his brougham, which was not a large +one; nobody accepted, and he went off alone. James and Roger followed +immediately after; they also would drop in to lunch. The others +gradually melted away, Old Jolyon taking three nephews to fill up his +carriage; he had a want of those young faces. + +Soames, who had to arrange some details in the cemetery office, walked +away with Bosinney. He had much to talk over with him, and, having +finished his business, they strolled to Hampstead, lunched together at +the Spaniard's Inn, and spent a long time in going into practical details +connected with the building of the house; they then proceeded to the +tram-line, and came as far as the Marble Arch, where Bosinney went off to +Stanhope Gate to see June. + +Soames felt in excellent spirits when he arrived home, and confided to +Irene at dinner that he had had a good talk with Bosinney, who really +seemed a sensible fellow; they had had a capital walk too, which had done +his liver good--he had been short of exercise for a long time--and +altogether a very satisfactory day. If only it hadn't been for poor Aunt +Ann, he would have taken her to the theatre; as it was, they must make +the best of an evening at home. + +"The Buccaneer asked after you more than once," he said suddenly. And +moved by some inexplicable desire to assert his proprietorship, he rose +from his chair and planted a kiss on his wife's shoulder. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER I + +PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE + +The winter had been an open one. Things in the trade were slack; and as +Soames had reflected before making up his mind, it had been a good time +for building. The shell of the house at Robin Hill was thus completed by +the end of April. + +Now that there was something to be seen for his money, he had been coming +down once, twice, even three times a week, and would mouse about among +the debris for hours, careful never to soil his clothes, moving silently +through the unfinished brickwork of doorways, or circling round the +columns in the central court. + +And he would stand before them for minutes' together, as though peering +into the real quality of their substance. + +On April 30 he had an appointment with Bosinney to go over the accounts, +and five minutes before the proper time he entered the tent which the +architect had pitched for himself close to the old oak tree. + +The accounts were already prepared on a folding table, and with a nod +Soames sat down to study them. It was some time before he raised his +head. + +"I can't make them out," he said at last; "they come to nearly seven +hundred more than they ought" + +After a glance at Bosinney's face he went on quickly: + +"If you only make a firm stand against these builder chaps you'll get +them down. They stick you with everything if you don't look sharp.... +Take ten per cent. off all round. I shan't mind it's coming out a +hundred or so over the mark!" + +Bosinney shook his head: + +"I've taken off every farthing I can!" + +Soames pushed back the table with a movement of anger, which sent the +account sheets fluttering to the ground. + +"Then all I can say is," he flustered out, "you've made a pretty mess of +it!" + +"I've told you a dozen times," Bosinney answered sharply, "that there'd +be extras. I've pointed them out to you over and over again!" + +"I know that," growled Soames: "I shouldn't have objected to a ten pound +note here and there. How was I to know that by 'extras' you meant seven +hundred pounds?" + +The qualities of both men had contributed to this not-inconsiderable +discrepancy. On the one hand, the architect's devotion to his idea, to +the image of a house which he had created and believed in--had made him +nervous of being stopped, or forced to the use of makeshifts; on the +other, Soames' not less true and wholehearted devotion to the very best +article that could be obtained for the money, had rendered him averse to +believing that things worth thirteen shillings could not be bought with +twelve. + +"I wish I'd never undertaken your house," said Bosinney suddenly. "You +come down here worrying me out of my life. You want double the value for +your money anybody else would, and now that you've got a house that for +its size is not to be beaten in the county, you don't want to pay for it. +If you're anxious to be off your bargain, I daresay I can find the +balance above the estimates myself, but I'm d----d if I do another stroke +of work for you!" + +Soames regained his composure. Knowing that Bosinney had no capital, he +regarded this as a wild suggestion. He saw, too, that he would be kept +indefinitely out of this house on which he had set his heart, and just at +the crucial point when the architect's personal care made all the +difference. In the meantime there was Irene to be thought of! She had +been very queer lately. He really believed it was only because she had +taken to Bosinney that she tolerated the idea of the house at all. It +would not do to make an open breach with her. + +"You needn't get into a rage," he said. "If I'm willing to put up with +it, I suppose you needn't cry out. All I meant was that when you tell me +a thing is going to cost so much, I like to--well, in fact, I--like to +know where I am." + +"Look here!" said Bosinney, and Soames was both annoyed and surprised by +the shrewdness of his glance. "You've got my services dirt cheap. For +the kind of work I've put into this house, and the amount of time I've +given to it, you'd have had to pay Littlemaster or some other fool four +times as much. What you want, in fact, is a first-rate man for a +fourth-rate fee, and that's exactly what you've got!" + +Soames saw that he really meant what he said, and, angry though he was, +the consequences of a row rose before him too vividly. He saw his house +unfinished, his wife rebellious, himself a laughingstock. + +"Let's go over it," he said sulkily, "and see how the money's gone." + +"Very well," assented Bosinney. "But we'll hurry up, if you don't mind. +I have to get back in time to take June to the theatre." + +Soames cast a stealthy look at him, and said: "Coming to our place, I +suppose to meet her?" He was always coming to their place! + +There had been rain the night before-a spring rain, and the earth smelt +of sap and wild grasses. The warm, soft breeze swung the leaves and the +golden buds of the old oak tree, and in the sunshine the blackbirds were +whistling their hearts out. + +It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a +painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at +the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what. +The earth gave forth a fainting warmth, stealing up through the chilly +garment in which winter had wrapped her. It was her long caress of +invitation, to draw men down to lie within her arms, to roll their bodies +on her, and put their lips to her breast. + +On just such a day as this Soames had got from Irene the promise he had +asked her for so often. Seated on the fallen trunk of a tree, he had +promised for the twentieth time that if their marriage were not a +success, she should be as free as if she had never married him! + +"Do you swear it?" she had said. A few days back she had reminded him of +that oath. He had answered: "Nonsense! I couldn't have sworn any such +thing!" By some awkward fatality he remembered it now. What queer +things men would swear for the sake of women! He would have sworn it at +any time to gain her! He would swear it now, if thereby he could touch +her--but nobody could touch her, she was cold-hearted! + +And memories crowded on him with the fresh, sweet savour of the spring +wind-memories of his courtship. + +In the spring of the year 1881 he was visiting his old school-fellow and +client, George Liversedge, of Branksome, who, with the view of developing +his pine-woods in the neighbourhood of Bournemouth, had placed the +formation of the company necessary to the scheme in Soames's hands. Mrs. +Liversedge, with a sense of the fitness of things, had given a musical +tea in his honour. Later in the course of this function, which Soames, no +musician, had regarded as an unmitigated bore, his eye had been caught by +the face of a girl dressed in mourning, standing by herself. The lines +of her tall, as yet rather thin figure, showed through the wispy, +clinging stuff of her black dress, her black-gloved hands were crossed in +front of her, her lips slightly parted, and her large, dark eyes wandered +from face to face. Her hair, done low on her neck, seemed to gleam above +her black collar like coils of shining metal. And as Soames stood +looking at her, the sensation that most men have felt at one time or +another went stealing through him--a peculiar satisfaction of the senses, +a peculiar certainty, which novelists and old ladies call love at first +sight. Still stealthily watching her, he at once made his way to his +hostess, and stood doggedly waiting for the music to cease. + +"Who is that girl with yellow hair and dark eyes?" he asked. + +"That--oh! Irene Heron. Her father, Professor Heron, died this year. +She lives with her stepmother. She's a nice girl, a pretty girl, but no +money!" + +"Introduce me, please," said Soames. + +It was very little that he found to say, nor did he find her responsive +to that little. But he went away with the resolution to see her again. +He effected his object by chance, meeting her on the pier with her +stepmother, who had the habit of walking there from twelve to one of a +forenoon. Soames made this lady's acquaintance with alacrity, nor was it +long before he perceived in her the ally he was looking for. His keen +scent for the commercial side of family life soon told him that Irene +cost her stepmother more than the fifty pounds a year she brought her; it +also told him that Mrs. Heron, a woman yet in the prime of life, desired +to be married again. The strange ripening beauty of her stepdaughter +stood in the way of this desirable consummation. And Soames, in his +stealthy tenacity, laid his plans. + +He left Bournemouth without having given himself away, but in a month's +time came back, and this time he spoke, not to the girl, but to her +stepmother. He had made up his mind, he said; he would wait any time. +And he had long to wait, watching Irene bloom, the lines of her young +figure softening, the stronger blood deepening the gleam of her eyes, and +warming her face to a creamy glow; and at each visit he proposed to her, +and when that visit was at an end, took her refusal away with him, back +to London, sore at heart, but steadfast and silent as the grave. He +tried to come at the secret springs of her resistance; only once had he a +gleam of light. It was at one of those assembly dances, which afford the +only outlet to the passions of the population of seaside watering-places. +He was sitting with her in an embrasure, his senses tingling with the +contact of the waltz. She had looked at him over her, slowly waving fan; +and he had lost his head. Seizing that moving wrist, he pressed his lips +to the flesh of her arm. And she had shuddered--to this day he had not +forgotten that shudder--nor the look so passionately averse she had given +him. + +A year after that she had yielded. What had made her yield he could +never make out; and from Mrs. Heron, a woman of some diplomatic talent, +he learnt nothing. Once after they were married he asked her, "What made +you refuse me so often?" She had answered by a strange silence. An +enigma to him from the day that he first saw her, she was an enigma to +him still.... + +Bosinney was waiting for him at the door; and on his rugged, +good-looking, face was a queer, yearning, yet happy look, as though he +too saw a promise of bliss in the spring sky, sniffed a coming happiness +in the spring air. Soames looked at him waiting there. What was the +matter with the fellow that he looked so happy? What was he waiting for +with that smile on his lips and in his eyes? Soames could not see that +for which Bosinney was waiting as he stood there drinking in the +flower-scented wind. And once more he felt baffled in the presence of +this man whom by habit he despised. He hastened on to the house. + +"The only colour for those tiles," he heard Bosinney say,--"is ruby with +a grey tint in the stuff, to give a transparent effect. I should like +Irene's opinion. I'm ordering the purple leather curtains for the +doorway of this court; and if you distemper the drawing-room ivory cream +over paper, you'll get an illusive look. You want to aim all through the +decorations at what I call charm." + +Soames said: "You mean that my wife has charm!" + +Bosinney evaded the question. + +"You should have a clump of iris plants in the centre of that court." + +Soames smiled superciliously. + +"I'll look into Beech's some time," he said, "and see what's +appropriate!" + +They found little else to say to each other, but on the way to the +Station Soames asked: + +"I suppose you find Irene very artistic." + +"Yes." The abrupt answer was as distinct a snub as saying: "If you want +to discuss her you can do it with someone else!" + +And the slow, sulky anger Soames had felt all the afternoon burned the +brighter within him. + +Neither spoke again till they were close to the Station, then Soames +asked: + +"When do you expect to have finished?" + +"By the end of June, if you really wish me to decorate as well." + +Soames nodded. "But you quite understand," he said, "that the house is +costing me a lot beyond what I contemplated. I may as well tell you that +I should have thrown it up, only I'm not in the habit of giving up what +I've set my mind on." + +Bosinney made no reply. And Soames gave him askance a look of dogged +dislike--for in spite of his fastidious air and that supercilious, +dandified taciturnity, Soames, with his set lips and squared chin, was +not unlike a bulldog.... + +When, at seven o'clock that evening, June arrived at 62, Montpellier +Square, the maid Bilson told her that Mr. Bosinney was in the +drawing-room; the mistress--she said--was dressing, and would be down in +a minute. She would tell her that Miss June was here. + +June stopped her at once. + +"All right, Bilson," she said, "I'll just go in. You, needn't hurry Mrs. +Soames." + +She took off her cloak, and Bilson, with an understanding look, did not +even open the drawing-room door for her, but ran downstairs. + +June paused for a moment to look at herself in the little old-fashioned +silver mirror above the oaken rug chest--a slim, imperious young figure, +with a small resolute face, in a white frock, cut moon-shaped at the base +of a neck too slender for her crown of twisted red-gold hair. + +She opened the drawing-room door softly, meaning to take him by surprise. +The room was filled with a sweet hot scent of flowering azaleas. + +She took a long breath of the perfume, and heard Bosinney's voice, not in +the room, but quite close, saying. + +"Ah! there were such heaps of things I wanted to talk about, and now we +shan't have time!" + +Irene's voice answered: "Why not at dinner?" + +"How can one talk...." + +June's first thought was to go away, but instead she crossed to the long +window opening on the little court. It was from there that the scent of +the azaleas came, and, standing with their backs to her, their faces +buried in the golden-pink blossoms, stood her lover and Irene. + +Silent but unashamed, with flaming cheeks and angry eyes, the girl +watched. + +"Come on Sunday by yourself--We can go over the house together." + +June saw Irene look up at him through her screen of blossoms. It was not +the look of a coquette, but--far worse to the watching girl--of a woman +fearful lest that look should say too much. + +"I've promised to go for a drive with Uncle...." + +"The big one! Make him bring you; it's only ten miles--the very thing +for his horses." + +"Poor old Uncle Swithin!" + +A wave of the azalea scent drifted into June's face; she felt sick and +dizzy. + +"Do! ah! do!" + +"But why?" + +"I must see you there--I thought you'd like to help me...." + +The answer seemed to the girl to come softly with a tremble from amongst +the blossoms: "So I do!" + +And she stepped into the open space of the window. + +"How stuffy it is here!" she said; "I can't bear this scent!" + +Her eyes, so angry and direct, swept both their faces. + +"Were you talking about the house? I haven't seen it yet, you +know--shall we all go on Sunday?"' + +From Irene's face the colour had flown. + +"I am going for a drive that day with Uncle Swithin," she answered. + +"Uncle Swithin! What does he matter? You can throw him over!" + +"I am not in the habit of throwing people over!" + +There was a sound of footsteps and June saw Soames standing just behind +her. + +"Well! if you are all ready," said Irene, looking from one to the other +with a strange smile, "dinner is too!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JUNE'S TREAT + +Dinner began in silence; the women facing one another, and the men. + +In silence the soup was finished--excellent, if a little thick; and fish +was brought. In silence it was handed. + +Bosinney ventured: "It's the first spring day." + +Irene echoed softly: "Yes--the first spring day." + +"Spring!" said June: "there isn't a breath of air!" No one replied. + +The fish was taken away, a fine fresh sole from Dover. And Bilson +brought champagne, a bottle swathed around the neck with white.... + +Soames said: "You'll find it dry." + +Cutlets were handed, each pink-frilled about the legs. They were refused +by June, and silence fell. + +Soames said: "You'd better take a cutlet, June; there's nothing coming." + +But June again refused, so they were borne away. And then Irene asked: +"Phil, have you heard my blackbird?" + +Bosinney answered: "Rather--he's got a hunting-song. As I came round I +heard him in the Square." + +"He's such a darling!" + +"Salad, sir?" Spring chicken was removed. + +But Soames was speaking: "The asparagus is very poor. Bosinney, glass of +sherry with your sweet? June, you're drinking nothing!" + +June said: "You know I never do. Wine's such horrid stuff!" + +An apple charlotte came upon a silver dish, and smilingly Irene said: +"The azaleas are so wonderful this year!" + +To this Bosinney murmured: "Wonderful! The scent's extraordinary!" + +June said: "How can you like the scent? Sugar, please, Bilson." + +Sugar was handed her, and Soames remarked: "This charlottes good!" + +The charlotte was removed. Long silence followed. Irene, beckoning, +said: "Take out the azalea, Bilson. Miss June can't bear the scent." + +"No; let it stay," said June. + +Olives from France, with Russian caviare, were placed on little plates. +And Soames remarked: "Why can't we have the Spanish?" But no one +answered. + +The olives were removed. Lifting her tumbler June demanded: "Give me +some water, please." Water was given her. A silver tray was brought, +with German plums. There was a lengthy pause. In perfect harmony all +were eating them. + +Bosinney counted up the stones: "This year--next year--some time." + +Irene finished softly: "Never! There was such a glorious sunset. The +sky's all ruby still--so beautiful!" + +He answered: "Underneath the dark." + +Their eyes had met, and June cried scornfully: "A London sunset!" + +Egyptian cigarettes were handed in a silver box. Soames, taking one, +remarked: "What time's your play begin?" + +No one replied, and Turkish coffee followed in enamelled cups. + +Irene, smiling quietly, said: "If only...." + +"Only what?" said June. + +"If only it could always be the spring!" + +Brandy was handed; it was pale and old. + +Soames said: "Bosinney, better take some brandy." + +Bosinney took a glass; they all arose. + +"You want a cab?" asked Soames. + +June answered: "No! My cloaks please, Bilson." Her cloak was brought. + +Irene, from the window, murmured: "Such a lovely night! The stars are +coming out!" + +Soames added: "Well, I hope you'll both enjoy yourselves." + +From the door June answered: "Thanks. Come, Phil." + +Bosinney cried: "I'm coming." + +Soames smiled a sneering smile, and said: "I wish you luck!" + +And at the door Irene watched them go. + +Bosinney called: "Good night!" + +"Good night!" she answered softly.... + +June made her lover take her on the top of a 'bus, saying she wanted air, +and there sat silent, with her face to the breeze. + +The driver turned once or twice, with the intention of venturing a +remark, but thought better of it. They were a lively couple! The spring +had got into his blood, too; he felt the need for letting steam escape, +and clucked his tongue, flourishing his whip, wheeling his horses, and +even they, poor things, had smelled the spring, and for a brief half-hour +spurned the pavement with happy hoofs. + +The whole town was alive; the boughs, curled upward with their decking of +young leaves, awaited some gift the breeze could bring. New-lighted +lamps were gaining mastery, and the faces of the crowd showed pale under +that glare, while on high the great white clouds slid swiftly, softly, +over the purple sky. + +Men in, evening dress had thrown back overcoats, stepping jauntily up the +steps of Clubs; working folk loitered; and women--those women who at +that time of night are solitary--solitary and moving eastward in a +stream--swung slowly along, with expectation in their gait, dreaming of +good wine and a good supper, or--for an unwonted minute, of kisses given +for love. + +Those countless figures, going their ways under the lamps and the +moving-sky, had one and all received some restless blessing from the stir +of spring. And one and all, like those clubmen with their opened coats, +had shed something of caste, and creed, and custom, and by the cock of +their hats, the pace of their walk, their laughter, or their silence, +revealed their common kinship under the passionate heavens. + +Bosinney and June entered the theatre in silence, and mounted to their +seats in the upper boxes. The piece had just begun, and the +half-darkened house, with its rows of creatures peering all one way, +resembled a great garden of flowers turning their faces to the sun. + +June had never before been in the upper boxes. From the age of fifteen +she had habitually accompanied her grandfather to the stalls, and not +common stalls, but the best seats in the house, towards the centre of the +third row, booked by old Jolyon, at Grogan and Boyne's, on his way home +from the City, long before the day; carried in his overcoat pocket, +together with his cigar-case and his old kid gloves, and handed to June +to keep till the appointed night. And in those stalls--an erect old +figure with a serene white head, a little figure, strenuous and eager, +with a red-gold head--they would sit through every kind of play, and on +the way home old Jolyon would say of the principal actor: "Oh, he's a +poor stick! You should have seen little Bobson!" + +She had looked forward to this evening with keen delight; it was stolen, +chaperone-less, undreamed of at Stanhope Gate, where she was supposed to +be at Soames'. She had expected reward for her subterfuge, planned for +her lover's sake; she had expected it to break up the thick, chilly +cloud, and make the relations between them which of late had been so +puzzling, so tormenting--sunny and simple again as they had been before +the winter. She had come with the intention of saying something +definite; and she looked at the stage with a furrow between her brows, +seeing nothing, her hands squeezed together in her lap. A swarm of +jealous suspicions stung and stung her. + +If Bosinney was conscious of her trouble he made no sign. + +The curtain dropped. The first act had come to an end. + +"It's awfully hot here!" said the girl; "I should like to go out." + +She was very white, and she knew--for with her nerves thus sharpened she +saw everything--that he was both uneasy and compunctious. + +At the back of the theatre an open balcony hung over the street; she took +possession of this, and stood leaning there without a word, waiting for +him to begin. + +At last she could bear it no longer. + +"I want to say something to you, Phil," she said. + +"Yes?" + +The defensive tone of his voice brought the colour flying to her cheek, +the words flying to her lips: "You don't give me a chance to be nice to +you; you haven't for ages now!" + +Bosinney stared down at the street. He made no answer.... + +June cried passionately: "You know I want to do everything for you--that +I want to be everything to you...." + +A hum rose from the street, and, piercing it with a sharp 'ping,' the +bell sounded for the raising of the curtain. June did not stir. A +desperate struggle was going on within her. Should she put everything to +the proof? Should she challenge directly that influence, that attraction +which was driving him away from her? It was her nature to challenge, and +she said: "Phil, take me to see the house on Sunday!" + +With a smile quivering and breaking on her lips, and trying, how hard, +not to show that she was watching, she searched his face, saw it waver +and hesitate, saw a troubled line come between his brows, the blood rush +into his face. He answered: "Not Sunday, dear; some other day!" + +"Why not Sunday? I shouldn't be in the way on Sunday." + +He made an evident effort, and said: "I have an engagement." + +"You are going to take...." + +His eyes grew angry; he shrugged his shoulders, and answered: "An +engagement that will prevent my taking you to see the house!" + +June bit her lip till the blood came, and walked back to her seat without +another word, but she could not help the tears of rage rolling down her +face. The house had been mercifully darkened for a crisis, and no one +could see her trouble. + +Yet in this world of Forsytes let no man think himself immune from +observation. + +In the third row behind, Euphemia, Nicholas's youngest daughter, with her +married-sister, Mrs. Tweetyman, were watching. + +They reported at Timothy's, how they had seen June and her fiance at the +theatre. + +"In the stalls?" "No, not in the...." "Oh! in the dress circle, of +course. That seemed to be quite fashionable nowadays with young people!" + +Well--not exactly. In the.... Anyway, that engagement wouldn't last +long. They had never seen anyone look so thunder and lightningy as that +little June! With tears of enjoyment in their eyes, they related how she +had kicked a man's hat as she returned to her seat in the middle of an +act, and how the man had looked. Euphemia had a noted, silent laugh, +terminating most disappointingly in squeaks; and when Mrs. Small, holding +up her hands, said: "My dear! Kicked a ha-at?" she let out such a number +of these that she had to be recovered with smelling-salts. As she went +away she said to Mrs. Tweetyman: + +"Kicked a--ha-at! Oh! I shall die." + +For 'that little June' this evening, that was to have been 'her treat,' +was the most miserable she had ever spent. God knows she tried to stifle +her pride, her suspicion, her jealousy! + +She parted from Bosinney at old Jolyon's door without breaking down; the +feeling that her lover must be conquered was strong enough to sustain her +till his retiring footsteps brought home the true extent of her +wretchedness. + +The noiseless 'Sankey' let her in. She would have slipped up to her own +room, but old Jolyon, who had heard her entrance, was in the dining-room +doorway. + +"Come in and have your milk," he said. "It's been kept hot for you. +You're very late. Where have you been?" + +June stood at the fireplace, with a foot on the fender and an arm on the +mantelpiece, as her grandfather had done when he came in that night of +the opera. She was too near a breakdown to care what she told him. + +"We dined at Soames's." + +"H'm! the man of property! His wife there and Bosinney?" + +"Yes." + +Old Jolyon's glance was fixed on her with the penetrating gaze from which +it was difficult to hide; but she was not looking at him, and when she +turned her face, he dropped his scrutiny at once. He had seen enough, +and too much. He bent down to lift the cup of milk for her from the +hearth, and, turning away, grumbled: "You oughtn't to stay out so late; +it makes you fit for nothing." + +He was invisible now behind his paper, which he turned with a vicious +crackle; but when June came up to kiss him, he said: "Good-night, my +darling," in a tone so tremulous and unexpected, that it was all the girl +could do to get out of the room without breaking into the fit of sobbing +which lasted her well on into the night. + +When the door was closed, old Jolyon dropped his paper, and stared long +and anxiously in front of him. + +'The beggar!' he thought. 'I always knew she'd have trouble with him!' + +Uneasy doubts and suspicions, the more poignant that he felt himself +powerless to check or control the march of events, came crowding upon +him. + +Was the fellow going to jilt her? He longed to go and say to him: "Look +here, you sir! Are you going to jilt my grand-daughter?" But how could +he? Knowing little or nothing, he was yet certain, with his unerring +astuteness, that there was something going on. He suspected Bosinney of +being too much at Montpellier Square. + +'This fellow,' he thought, 'may not be a scamp; his face is not a bad +one, but he's a queer fish. I don't know what to make of him. I shall +never know what to make of him! They tell me he works like a nigger, but +I see no good coming of it. He's unpractical, he has no method. When he +comes here, he sits as glum as a monkey. If I ask him what wine he'll +have, he says: "Thanks, any wine." If I offer him a cigar, he smokes it +as if it were a twopenny German thing. I never see him looking at June +as he ought to look at her; and yet, he's not after her money. If she +were to make a sign, he'd be off his bargain to-morrow. But she +won't--not she! She'll stick to him! She's as obstinate as fate--She'll +never let go!' + +Sighing deeply, he turned the paper; in its columns, perchance he might +find consolation. + +And upstairs in her room June sat at her open window, where the spring +wind came, after its revel across the Park, to cool her hot cheeks and +burn her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DRIVE WITH SWITHIN + +Two lines of a certain song in a certain famous old school's songbook run +as follows: + +'How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la! How he carolled and +he sang, like a bird!....' + +Swithin did not exactly carol and sing like a bird, but he felt almost +like endeavouring to hum a tune, as he stepped out of Hyde Park +Mansions, and contemplated his horses drawn up before the door. + +The afternoon was as balmy as a day in June, and to complete the simile +of the old song, he had put on a blue frock-coat, dispensing with an +overcoat, after sending Adolf down three times to make sure that there +was not the least suspicion of east in the wind; and the frock-coat was +buttoned so tightly around his personable form, that, if the buttons did +not shine, they might pardonably have done so. Majestic on the pavement +he fitted on a pair of dog-skin gloves; with his large bell-shaped top +hat, and his great stature and bulk he looked too primeval for a Forsyte. +His thick white hair, on which Adolf had bestowed a touch of pomatum, +exhaled the fragrance of opoponax and cigars--the celebrated Swithin +brand, for which he paid one hundred and forty shillings the hundred, and +of which old Jolyon had unkindly said, he wouldn't smoke them as a gift; +they wanted the stomach of a horse! + +"Adolf!" + +"Sare!" + +"The new plaid rug!" + +He would never teach that fellow to look smart; and Mrs. Soames he felt +sure, had an eye! + +"The phaeton hood down; I am going--to--drive--a--lady!" + +A pretty woman would want to show off her frock; and well--he was going +to drive a lady! It was like a new beginning to the good old days. + +Ages since he had driven a woman! The last time, if he remembered, it +had been Juley; the poor old soul had been as nervous as a cat the whole +time, and so put him out of patience that, as he dropped her in the +Bayswater Road, he had said: "Well I'm d---d if I ever drive you again!" +And he never had, not he! + +Going up to his horses' heads, he examined their bits; not that he knew +anything about bits--he didn't pay his coachman sixty pounds a year to +do his work for him, that had never been his principle. Indeed, his +reputation as a horsey man rested mainly on the fact that once, on Derby +Day, he had been welshed by some thimble-riggers. But someone at the +Club, after seeing him drive his greys up to the door--he always drove +grey horses, you got more style for the money, some thought--had called +him 'Four-in-hand Forsyte.' The name having reached his ears through that +fellow Nicholas Treffry, old Jolyon's dead partner, the great driving man +notorious for more carriage accidents than any man in the +kingdom--Swithin had ever after conceived it right to act up to it. The +name had taken his fancy, not because he had ever driven four-in-hand, or +was ever likely to, but because of something distinguished in the sound. +Four-in-hand Forsyte! Not bad! Born too soon, Swithin had missed his +vocation. Coming upon London twenty years later, he could not have +failed to have become a stockbroker, but at the time when he was obliged +to select, this great profession had not as yet became the chief glory of +the upper-middle class. He had literally been forced into land agency. + +Once in the driving seat, with the reins handed to him, and blinking over +his pale old cheeks in the full sunlight, he took a slow look +round--Adolf was already up behind; the cockaded groom at the horses' +heads stood ready to let go; everything was prepared for the signal, and +Swithin gave it. The equipage dashed forward, and before you could say +Jack Robinson, with a rattle and flourish drew up at Soames' door. + +Irene came out at once, and stepped in--he afterward described it at +Timothy's--"as light as--er--Taglioni, no fuss about it, no wanting this +or wanting that;" and above all, Swithin dwelt on this, staring at Mrs. +Septimus in a way that disconcerted her a good deal, "no silly +nervousness!" To Aunt Hester he portrayed Irene's hat. "Not one of your +great flopping things, sprawling about, and catching the dust, that women +are so fond of nowadays, but a neat little--" he made a circular motion +of his hand, "white veil--capital taste." + +"What was it made of?" inquired Aunt Hester, who manifested a languid but +permanent excitement at any mention of dress. + +"Made of?" returned Swithin; "now how should I know?" + +He sank into silence so profound that Aunt Hester began to be afraid he +had fallen into a trance. She did not try to rouse him herself, it not +being her custom. + +'I wish somebody would come,' she thought; 'I don't like the look of +him!' + +But suddenly Swithin returned to life. "Made of" he wheezed out slowly, +"what should it be made of?" + +They had not gone four miles before Swithin received the impression that +Irene liked driving with him. Her face was so soft behind that white +veil, and her dark eyes shone so in the spring light, and whenever he +spoke she raised them to him and smiled. + +On Saturday morning Soames had found her at her writing-table with a note +written to Swithin, putting him off. Why did she want to put him off? he +asked. She might put her own people off when she liked, he would not +have her putting off his people! + +She had looked at him intently, had torn up the note, and said: "Very +well!" + +And then she began writing another. He took a casual glance presently, +and saw that it was addressed to Bosinney. + +"What are you writing to him about?" he asked. + +Irene, looking at him again with that intent look, said quietly: +"Something he wanted me to do for him!" + +"Humph!" said Soames,--"Commissions!" + +"You'll have your work cut out if you begin that sort of thing!" He said +no more. + +Swithin opened his eyes at the mention of Robin Hill; it was a long way +for his horses, and he always dined at half-past seven, before the rush +at the Club began; the new chef took more trouble with an early dinner--a +lazy rascal! + +He would like to have a look at the house, however. A house appealed to +any Forsyte, and especially to one who had been an auctioneer. After all +he said the distance was nothing. When he was a younger man he had had +rooms at Richmond for many years, kept his carriage and pair there, and +drove them up and down to business every day of his life. + +Four-in-hand Forsyte they called him! His T-cart, his horses had been +known from Hyde Park Corner to the Star and Garter. The Duke of Z.... +wanted to get hold of them, would have given him double the money, but he +had kept them; know a good thing when you have it, eh? A look of solemn +pride came portentously on his shaven square old face, he rolled his head +in his stand-up collar, like a turkey-cock preening himself. + +She was really--a charming woman! He enlarged upon her frock afterwards +to Aunt Juley, who held up her hands at his way of putting it. + +Fitted her like a skin--tight as a drum; that was how he liked 'em, all +of a piece, none of your daverdy, scarecrow women! He gazed at Mrs. +Septimus Small, who took after James--long and thin. + +"There's style about her," he went on, "fit for a king! And she's so +quiet with it too!" + +"She seems to have made quite a conquest of you, any way," drawled Aunt +Hester from her corner. + +Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him. + +"What's that?" he said. "I know a--pretty--woman when I see one, and all +I can say is, I don't see the young man about that's fit for her; but +perhaps--you--do, come, perhaps--you-do!" + +"Oh?" murmured Aunt Hester, "ask Juley!" + +Long before they reached Robin Hill, however, the unaccustomed airing had +made him terribly sleepy; he drove with his eyes closed, a life-time of +deportment alone keeping his tall and bulky form from falling askew. + +Bosinney, who was watching, came out to meet them, and all three entered +the house together; Swithin in front making play with a stout +gold-mounted Malacca cane, put into his hand by Adolf, for his knees were +feeling the effects of their long stay in the same position. He had +assumed his fur coat, to guard against the draughts of the unfinished +house. + +The staircase--he said--was handsome! the baronial style! They would +want some statuary about! He came to a standstill between the columns of +the doorway into the inner court, and held out his cane inquiringly. + +What was this to be--this vestibule, or whatever they called it? But +gazing at the skylight, inspiration came to him. + +"Ah! the billiard-room!" + +When told it was to be a tiled court with plants in the centre, he turned +to Irene: + +"Waste this on plants? You take my advice and have a billiard table +here!" + +Irene smiled. She had lifted her veil, banding it like a nun's coif +across her forehead, and the smile of her dark eyes below this seemed to +Swithin more charming than ever. He nodded. She would take his advice +he saw. + +He had little to say of the drawing or dining-rooms, which he described +as "spacious"; but fell into such raptures as he permitted to a man of +his dignity, in the wine-cellar, to which he descended by stone steps, +Bosinney going first with a light. + +"You'll have room here," he said, "for six or seven hundred dozen--a very +pooty little cellar!" + +Bosinney having expressed the wish to show them the house from the copse +below, Swithin came to a stop. + +"There's a fine view from here," he remarked; "you haven't such a thing +as a chair?" + +A chair was brought him from Bosinney's tent. + +"You go down," he said blandly; "you two! I'll sit here and look at the +view." + +He sat down by the oak tree, in the sun; square and upright, with one +hand stretched out, resting on the nob of his cane, the other planted on +his knee; his fur coat thrown open, his hat, roofing with its flat top +the pale square of his face; his stare, very blank, fixed on the +landscape. + +He nodded to them as they went off down through the fields. He was, +indeed, not sorry to be left thus for a quiet moment of reflection. The +air was balmy, not too much heat in the sun; the prospect a fine one, a +remarka.... His head fell a little to one side; he jerked it up and +thought: Odd! He--ah! They were waving to him from the bottom! He put +up his hand, and moved it more than once. They were active--the prospect +was remar.... His head fell to the left, he jerked it up at once; it fell +to the right. It remained there; he was asleep. + +And asleep, a sentinel on the--top of the rise, he appeared to rule over +this prospect--remarkable--like some image blocked out by the special +artist, of primeval Forsytes in pagan days, to record the domination of +mind over matter! + +And all the unnumbered generations of his yeoman ancestors, wont of a +Sunday to stand akimbo surveying their little plots of land, their grey +unmoving eyes hiding their instinct with its hidden roots of violence, +their instinct for possession to the exclusion of all the world--all +these unnumbered generations seemed to sit there with him on the top of +the rise. + +But from him, thus slumbering, his jealous Forsyte spirit travelled far, +into God-knows-what jungle of fancies; with those two young people, to +see what they were doing down there in the copse--in the copse where the +spring was running riot with the scent of sap and bursting buds, the song +of birds innumerable, a carpet of bluebells and sweet growing things, and +the sun caught like gold in the tops of the trees; to see what they were +doing, walking along there so close together on the path that was too +narrow; walking along there so close that they were always touching; to +watch Irene's eyes, like dark thieves, stealing the heart out of the +spring. And a great unseen chaperon, his spirit was there, stopping with +them to look at the little furry corpse of a mole, not dead an hour, with +his mushroom-and-silver coat untouched by the rain or dew; watching over +Irene's bent head, and the soft look of her pitying eyes; and over that +young man's head, gazing at her so hard, so strangely. Walking on with +them, too, across the open space where a wood-cutter had been at work, +where the bluebells were trampled down, and a trunk had swayed and +staggered down from its gashed stump. Climbing it with them, over, and +on to the very edge of the copse, whence there stretched an undiscovered +country, from far away in which came the sounds, 'Cuckoo-cuckoo!' + +Silent, standing with them there, and uneasy at their silence! Very +queer, very strange! + +Then back again, as though guilty, through the wood--back to the cutting, +still silent, amongst the songs of birds that never ceased, and the wild +scent--hum! what was it--like that herb they put in--back to the log +across the path.... + +And then unseen, uneasy, flapping above them, trying to make noises, his +Forsyte spirit watched her balanced on the log, her pretty figure +swaying, smiling down at that young man gazing up with such strange, +shining eyes, slipping now--a--ah! falling, o--oh! sliding--down his +breast; her soft, warm body clutched, her head bent back from his lips; +his kiss; her recoil; his cry: "You must know--I love you!" Must +know--indeed, a pretty...? Love! Hah! + +Swithin awoke; virtue had gone out of him. He had a taste in his mouth. +Where was he? + +Damme! He had been asleep! + +He had dreamed something about a new soup, with a taste of mint in it. + +Those young people--where had they got to? His left leg had pins and +needles. + +"Adolf!" The rascal was not there; the rascal was asleep somewhere. + +He stood up, tall, square, bulky in his fur, looking anxiously down over +the fields, and presently he saw them coming. + +Irene was in front; that young fellow--what had they nicknamed him--'The +Buccaneer?' looked precious hangdog there behind her; had got a flea in +his ear, he shouldn't wonder. Serve him right, taking her down all that +way to look at the house! The proper place to look at a house from was +the lawn. + +They saw him. He extended his arm, and moved it spasmodically to +encourage them. But they had stopped. What were they standing there +for, talking--talking? They came on again. She had been, giving him a +rub, he had not the least doubt of it, and no wonder, over a house like +that--a great ugly thing, not the sort of house he was accustomed to. + +He looked intently at their faces, with his pale, immovable stare. That +young man looked very queer! + +"You'll never make anything of this!" he said tartly, pointing at the +mansion;--"too newfangled!" + +Bosinney gazed at him as though he had not heard; and Swithin afterwards +described him to Aunt Hester as "an extravagant sort of fellow very odd +way of looking at you--a bumpy beggar!" + +What gave rise to this sudden piece of psychology he did not state; +possibly Bosinney's, prominent forehead and cheekbones and chin, or +something hungry in his face, which quarrelled with Swithin's conception +of the calm satiety that should characterize the perfect gentleman. + +He brightened up at the mention of tea. He had a contempt for tea--his +brother Jolyon had been in tea; made a lot of money by it--but he was so +thirsty, and had such a taste in his mouth, that he was prepared to drink +anything. He longed to inform Irene of the taste in his mouth--she was +so sympathetic--but it would not be a distinguished thing to do; he +rolled his tongue round, and faintly smacked it against his palate. + +In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like moustaches +over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of a pint-bottle of +champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at Bosinney, said: "Why, you're +quite a Monte Cristo!" This celebrated novel--one of the half-dozen he +had read--had produced an extraordinary impression on his mind. + +Taking his glass from the table, he held it away from him to scrutinize +the colour; thirsty as he was, it was not likely that he was going to +drink trash! Then, placing it to his lips, he took a sip. + +"A very nice wine," he said at last, passing it before his nose; "not the +equal of my Heidsieck!" + +It was at this moment that the idea came to him which he afterwards +imparted at Timothy's in this nutshell: "I shouldn't wonder a bit if that +architect chap were sweet upon Mrs. Soames!" + +And from this moment his pale, round eyes never ceased to bulge with the +interest of his discovery. + +"The fellow," he said to Mrs. Septimus, "follows her about with his eyes +like a dog--the bumpy beggar! I don't wonder at it--she's a very +charming woman, and, I should say, the pink of discretion!" A vague +consciousness of perfume caging about Irene, like that from a flower with +half-closed petals and a passionate heart, moved him to the creation of +this image. "But I wasn't sure of it," he said, "till I saw him pick up +her handkerchief." + +Mrs. Small's eyes boiled with excitement. + +"And did he give it her back?" she asked. + +"Give it back?" said Swithin: "I saw him slobber on it when he thought I +wasn't looking!" + +Mrs. Small gasped--too interested to speak. + +"But she gave him no encouragement," went on Swithin; he stopped, and +stared for a minute or two in the way that alarmed Aunt Hester so--he had +suddenly recollected that, as they were starting back in the phaeton, she +had given Bosinney her hand a second time, and let it stay there too.... +He had touched his horses smartly with the whip, anxious to get her all +to himself. But she had looked back, and she had not answered his first +question; neither had he been able to see her face--she had kept it +hanging down. + +There is somewhere a picture, which Swithin has not seen, of a man +sitting on a rock, and by him, immersed in the still, green water, a +sea-nymph lying on her back, with her hand on her naked breast. She has +a half-smile on her face--a smile of hopeless surrender and of secret +joy. + +Seated by Swithin's side, Irene may have been smiling like that. + +When, warmed by champagne, he had her all to himself, he unbosomed +himself of his wrongs; of his smothered resentment against the new chef +at the club; his worry over the house in Wigmore Street, where the +rascally tenant had gone bankrupt through helping his brother-in-law as +if charity did not begin at home; of his deafness, too, and that pain he +sometimes got in his right side. She listened, her eyes swimming under +their lids. He thought she was thinking deeply of his troubles, and +pitied himself terribly. Yet in his fur coat, with frogs across the +breast, his top hat aslant, driving this beautiful woman, he had never +felt more distinguished. + +A coster, however, taking his girl for a Sunday airing, seemed to have +the same impression about himself. This person had flogged his donkey +into a gallop alongside, and sat, upright as a waxwork, in his shallopy +chariot, his chin settled pompously on a red handkerchief, like Swithin's +on his full cravat; while his girl, with the ends of a fly-blown boa +floating out behind, aped a woman of fashion. Her swain moved a stick +with a ragged bit of string dangling from the end, reproducing with +strange fidelity the circular flourish of Swithin's whip, and rolled his +head at his lady with a leer that had a weird likeness to Swithin's +primeval stare. + +Though for a time unconscious of the lowly ruffian's presence, Swithin +presently took it into his head that he was being guyed. He laid his +whip-lash across the mares flank. The two chariots, however, by some +unfortunate fatality continued abreast. Swithin's yellow, puffy face grew +red; he raised his whip to lash the costermonger, but was saved from so +far forgetting his dignity by a special intervention of Providence. A +carriage driving out through a gate forced phaeton and donkey-cart into +proximity; the wheels grated, the lighter vehicle skidded, and was +overturned. + +Swithin did not look round. On no account would he have pulled up to +help the ruffian. Serve him right if he had broken his neck! + +But he could not if he would. The greys had taken alarm. The phaeton +swung from side to side, and people raised frightened faces as they went +dashing past. Swithin's great arms, stretched at full length, tugged at +the reins. His cheeks were puffed, his lips compressed, his swollen face +was of a dull, angry red. + +Irene had her hand on the rail, and at every lurch she gripped it +tightly. Swithin heard her ask: + +"Are we going to have an accident, Uncle Swithin?" + +He gasped out between his pants: "It's nothing; a--little fresh!" + +"I've never been in an accident." + +"Don't you move!" He took a look at her. She was smiling, perfectly +calm. "Sit still," he repeated. "Never fear, I'll get you home!" + +And in the midst of all his terrible efforts, he was surprised to hear +her answer in a voice not like her own: + +"I don't care if I never get home!" + +The carriage giving a terrific lurch, Swithin's exclamation was jerked +back into his throat. The horses, winded by the rise of a hill, now +steadied to a trot, and finally stopped of their own accord. + +"When"--Swithin described it at Timothy's--"I pulled 'em up, there she +was as cool as myself. God bless my soul! she behaved as if she didn't +care whether she broke her neck or not! What was it she said: 'I don't +care if I never get home?" Leaning over the handle of his cane, he +wheezed out, to Mrs. Small's terror: "And I'm not altogether surprised, +with a finickin' feller like young Soames for a husband!" + +It did not occur to him to wonder what Bosinney had done after they had +left him there alone; whether he had gone wandering about like the dog to +which Swithin had compared him; wandering down to that copse where the +spring was still in riot, the cuckoo still calling from afar; gone down +there with her handkerchief pressed to lips, its fragrance mingling with +the scent of mint and thyme. Gone down there with such a wild, exquisite +pain in his heart that he could have cried out among the trees. Or what, +indeed, the fellow had done. In fact, till he came to Timothy's, Swithin +had forgotten all about him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JAMES GOES TO SEE FOR HIMSELF + +Those ignorant of Forsyte 'Change would not, perhaps, foresee all the +stir made by Irene's visit to the house. + +After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his memorable +drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, the merest touch +of malice, and a real desire to do good, was passed on to June. + +"And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; "that +about not going home. What did she mean?" + +It was a strange recital for the girl. She heard it flushing painfully, +and, suddenly, with a curt handshake, took her departure. + +"Almost rude!" Mrs. Small said to Aunt Hester, when June was gone. + +The proper construction was put on her reception of the news. She was +upset. Something was therefore very wrong. Odd! She and Irene had been +such friends! + +It all tallied too well with whispers and hints that had been going about +for some time past. Recollections of Euphemia's account of the visit to +the theatre--Mr. Bosinney always at Soames's? Oh, indeed! Yes, of +course, he would be about the house! Nothing open. Only upon the +greatest, the most important provocation was it necessary to say anything +open on Forsyte 'Change. This machine was too nicely adjusted; a hint, +the merest trifling expression of regret or doubt, sufficed to set the +family soul so sympathetic--vibrating. No one desired that harm should +come of these vibrations--far from it; they were set in motion with the +best intentions, with the feeling, that each member of the family had a +stake in the family soul. + +And much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip; it would frequently +result in visits of condolence being made, in accordance with the customs +of Society, thereby conferring a real benefit upon the sufferers, and +affording consolation to the sound, who felt pleasantly that someone at +all events was suffering from that from which they themselves were not +suffering. In fact, it was simply a desire to keep things well-aired, +the desire which animates the Public Press, that brought James, for +instance, into communication with Mrs. Septimus, Mrs. Septimus, with the +little Nicholases, the little Nicholases with who-knows-whom, and so on. +That great class to which they had risen, and now belonged, demanded a +certain candour, a still more certain reticence. This combination +guaranteed their membership. + +Many of the younger Forsytes felt, very naturally, and would openly +declare, that they did not want their affairs pried into; but so powerful +was the invisible, magnetic current of family gossip, that for the life +of them they could not help knowing all about everything. It was felt to +be hopeless. + +One of them (young Roger) had made an heroic attempt to free the rising +generation, by speaking of Timothy as an 'old cat.' The effort had justly +recoiled upon himself; the words, coming round in the most delicate way +to Aunt Juley's ears, were repeated by her in a shocked voice to Mrs. +Roger, whence they returned again to young Roger. + +And, after all, it was only the wrong-doers who suffered; as, for +instance, George, when he lost all that money playing billiards; or young +Roger himself, when he was so dreadfully near to marrying the girl to +whom, it was whispered, he was already married by the laws of Nature; or +again Irene, who was thought, rather than said, to be in danger. + +All this was not only pleasant but salutary. And it made so many hours +go lightly at Timothy's in the Bayswater Road; so many hours that must +otherwise have been sterile and heavy to those three who lived there; and +Timothy's was but one of hundreds of such homes in this City of +London--the homes of neutral persons of the secure classes, who are out +of the battle themselves, and must find their reason for existing, in the +battles of others. + +But for the sweetness of family gossip, it must indeed have been lonely +there. Rumours and tales, reports, surmises--were they not the children +of the house, as dear and precious as the prattling babes the brother and +sisters had missed in their own journey? To talk about them was as near +as they could get to the possession of all those children and +grandchildren, after whom their soft hearts yearned. For though it is +doubtful whether Timothy's heart yearned, it is indubitable that at the +arrival of each fresh Forsyte child he was quite upset. + +Useless for young Roger to say, "Old cat!" for Euphemia to hold up her +hands and cry: "Oh! those three!" and break into her silent laugh with +the squeak at the end. Useless, and not too kind. + +The situation which at this stage might seem, and especially to Forsyte +eyes, strange--not to say 'impossible'--was, in view of certain facts, +not so strange after all. Some things had been lost sight of. And +first, in the security bred of many harmless marriages, it had been +forgotten that Love is no hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a +wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown +along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by +chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it +blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and +colour are always, wild! And further--the facts and figures of their +own lives being against the perception of this truth--it was not +generally recognised by Forsytes that, where, this wild plant springs, +men and women are but moths around the pale, flame-like blossom. + +It was long since young Jolyon's escapade--there was danger of a +tradition again arising that people in their position never cross the +hedge to pluck that flower; that one could reckon on having love, like +measles, once in due season, and getting over it comfortably for all +time--as with measles, on a soothing mixture of butter and honey--in the +arms of wedlock. + +Of all those whom this strange rumour about Bosinney and Mrs. Soames +reached, James was the most affected. He had long forgotten how he had +hovered, lanky and pale, in side whiskers of chestnut hue, round Emily, +in the days of his own courtship. He had long forgotten the small house +in the purlieus of Mayfair, where he had spent the early days of his +married life, or rather, he had long forgotten the early days, not the +small house,--a Forsyte never forgot a house--he had afterwards sold it +at a clear profit of four hundred pounds. + +He had long forgotten those days, with their hopes and fears and doubts +about the prudence of the match (for Emily, though pretty, had nothing, +and he himself at that time was making a bare thousand a year), and that +strange, irresistible attraction which had drawn him on, till he felt he +must die if he could not marry the girl with the fair hair, looped so +neatly back, the fair arms emerging from a skin-tight bodice, the fair +form decorously shielded by a cage of really stupendous circumference. + +James had passed through the fire, but he had passed also through the +river of years which washes out the fire; he had experienced the saddest +experience of all--forgetfulness of what it was like to be in love. + +Forgotten! Forgotten so long, that he had forgotten even that he had +forgotten. + +And now this rumour had come upon him, this rumour about his son's wife; +very vague, a shadow dodging among the palpable, straightforward +appearances of things, unreal, unintelligible as a ghost, but carrying +with it, like a ghost, inexplicable terror. + +He tried to bring it home to his mind, but it was no more use than trying +to apply to himself one of those tragedies he read of daily in his +evening paper. He simply could not. There could be nothing in it. It +was all their nonsense. She didn't get on with Soames as well as she +might, but she was a good little thing--a good little thing! + +Like the not inconsiderable majority of men, James relished a nice little +bit of scandal, and would say, in a matter-of-fact tone, licking his +lips, "Yes, yes--she and young Dyson; they tell me they're living at +Monte Carlo!" + +But the significance of an affair of this sort--of its past, its present, +or its future--had never struck him. What it meant, what torture and +raptures had gone to its construction, what slow, overmastering fate had +lurked within the facts, very naked, sometimes sordid, but generally +spicy, presented to his gaze. He was not in the habit of blaming, +praising, drawing deductions, or generalizing at all about such things; +he simply listened rather greedily, and repeated what he was told, +finding considerable benefit from the practice, as from the consumption +of a sherry and bitters before a meal. + +Now, however, that such a thing--or rather the rumour, the breath of +it--had come near him personally, he felt as in a fog, which filled his +mouth full of a bad, thick flavour, and made it difficult to draw breath. + +A scandal! A possible scandal! + +To repeat this word to himself thus was the only way in which he could +focus or make it thinkable. He had forgotten the sensations necessary +for understanding the progress, fate, or meaning of any such business; he +simply could no longer grasp the possibilities of people running any risk +for the sake of passion. + +Amongst all those persons of his acquaintance, who went into the City day +after day and did their business there, whatever it was, and in their +leisure moments bought shares, and houses, and ate dinners, and played +games, as he was told, it would have seemed to him ridiculous to suppose +that there were any who would run risks for the sake of anything so +recondite, so figurative, as passion. + +Passion! He seemed, indeed, to have heard of it, and rules such as 'A +young man and a young woman ought never to be trusted together' were +fixed in his mind as the parallels of latitude are fixed on a map (for +all Forsytes, when it comes to 'bed-rock' matters of fact, have quite a +fine taste in realism); but as to anything else--well, he could only +appreciate it at all through the catch-word 'scandal.' + +Ah! but there was no truth in it--could not be. He was not afraid; she +was really a good little thing. But there it was when you got a thing +like that into your mind. And James was of a nervous temperament--one of +those men whom things will not leave alone, who suffer tortures from +anticipation and indecision. For fear of letting something slip that he +might otherwise secure, he was physically unable to make up his mind +until absolutely certain that, by not making it up, he would suffer loss. + +In life, however, there were many occasions when the business of making +up his mind did not even rest with himself, and this was one of them. + +What could he do? Talk it over with Soames? That would only make +matters worse. And, after all, there was nothing in it, he felt sure. + +It was all that house. He had mistrusted the idea from the first. What +did Soames want to go into the country for? And, if he must go spending +a lot of money building himself a house, why not have a first-rate man, +instead of this young Bosinney, whom nobody knew anything about? He had +told them how it would be. And he had heard that the house was costing +Soames a pretty penny beyond what he had reckoned on spending. + +This fact, more than any other, brought home to James the real danger of +the situation. It was always like this with these 'artistic' chaps; a +sensible man should have nothing to say to them. He had warned Irene, +too. And see what had come of it! + +And it suddenly sprang into James's mind that he ought to go and see for +himself. In the midst of that fog of uneasiness in which his mind was +enveloped the notion that he could go and look at the house afforded him +inexplicable satisfaction. It may have been simply the decision to do +something--more possibly the fact that he was going to look at a +house--that gave him relief. He felt that in staring at an edifice of +bricks and mortar, of wood and stone, built by the suspected man himself, +he would be looking into the heart of that rumour about Irene. + +Without saying a word, therefore, to anyone, he took a hansom to the +station and proceeded by train to Robin Hill; thence--there being no +'flies,' in accordance with the custom of the neighbourhood--he found +himself obliged to walk. + +He started slowly up the hill, his angular knees and high shoulders bent +complainingly, his eyes fixed on his feet, yet, neat for all that, in his +high hat and his frock-coat, on which was the speckless gloss imparted by +perfect superintendence. Emily saw to that; that is, she did not, of +course, see to it--people of good position not seeing to each other's +buttons, and Emily was of good position--but she saw that the butler saw +to it. + +He had to ask his way three times; on each occasion he repeated the +directions given him, got the man to repeat them, then repeated them a +second time, for he was naturally of a talkative disposition, and one +could not be too careful in a new neighbourhood. + +He kept assuring them that it was a new house he was looking for; it was +only, however, when he was shown the roof through the trees that he could +feel really satisfied that he had not been directed entirely wrong. + +A heavy sky seemed to cover the world with the grey whiteness of a +whitewashed ceiling. There was no freshness or fragrance in the air. On +such a day even British workmen scarcely cared to do more then they were +obliged, and moved about their business without the drone of talk which +whiles away the pangs of labour. + +Through spaces of the unfinished house, shirt-sleeved figures worked +slowly, and sounds arose--spasmodic knockings, the scraping of metal, the +sawing of wood, with the rumble of wheelbarrows along boards; now and +again the foreman's dog, tethered by a string to an oaken beam, whimpered +feebly, with a sound like the singing of a kettle. + +The fresh-fitted window-panes, daubed each with a white patch in the +centre, stared out at James like the eyes of a blind dog. + +And the building chorus went on, strident and mirthless under the +grey-white sky. But the thrushes, hunting amongst the fresh-turned earth +for worms, were silent quite. + +James picked his way among the heaps of gravel--the drive was being +laid--till he came opposite the porch. Here he stopped and raised his +eyes. There was but little to see from this point of view, and that +little he took in at once; but he stayed in this position many minutes, +and who shall know of what he thought. + +His china-blue eyes under white eyebrows that jutted out in little horns, +never stirred; the long upper lip of his wide mouth, between the fine +white whiskers, twitched once or twice; it was easy to see from that +anxious rapt expression, whence Soames derived the handicapped look which +sometimes came upon his face. James might have been saying to himself: +'I don't know--life's a tough job.' + +In this position Bosinney surprised him. + +James brought his eyes down from whatever bird's-nest they had been +looking for in the sky to Bosinney's face, on which was a kind of +humorous scorn. + +"How do you do, Mr. Forsyte? Come down to see for yourself?" + +It was exactly what James, as we know, had come for, and he was made +correspondingly uneasy. He held out his hand, however, saying: + +"How are you?" without looking at Bosinney. + +The latter made way for him with an ironical smile. + +James scented something suspicious in this courtesy. "I should like to +walk round the outside first," he said, "and see what you've been doing!" + +A flagged terrace of rounded stones with a list of two or three inches to +port had been laid round the south-east and south-west sides of the +house, and ran with a bevelled edge into mould, which was in preparation +for being turfed; along this terrace James led the way. + +"Now what did this cost?" he asked, when he saw the terrace extending +round the corner. + +"What should you think?" inquired Bosinney. + +"How should I know?" replied James somewhat nonplussed; "two or three +hundred, I dare say!" + +"The exact sum!" + +James gave him a sharp look, but the architect appeared unconscious, and +he put the answer down to mishearing. + +On arriving at the garden entrance, he stopped to look at the view. + +"That ought to come down," he said, pointing to the oak-tree. + +"You think so? You think that with the tree there you don't get enough +view for your money." + +Again James eyed him suspiciously--this young man had a peculiar way of +putting things: "Well!" he said, with a perplexed, nervous, emphasis, "I +don't see what you want with a tree." + +"It shall come down to-morrow," said Bosinney. + +James was alarmed. "Oh," he said, "don't go saying I said it was to come +down! I know nothing about it!" + +"No?" + +James went on in a fluster: "Why, what should I know about it? It's +nothing to do with me! You do it on your own responsibility." + +"You'll allow me to mention your name?" + +James grew more and more alarmed: "I don't know what you want mentioning +my name for," he muttered; "you'd better leave the tree alone. It's not +your tree!" + +He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped his brow. They entered the +house. Like Swithin, James was impressed by the inner court-yard. + +"You must have spent a douce of a lot of money here," he said, after +staring at the columns and gallery for some time. "Now, what did it cost +to put up those columns?" + +"I can't tell you off-hand," thoughtfully answered Bosinney, "but I know +it was a deuce of a lot!" + +"I should think so," said James. "I should...." He caught the +architect's eye, and broke off. And now, whenever he came to anything of +which he desired to know the cost, he stifled that curiosity. + +Bosinney appeared determined that he should see everything, and had not +James been of too 'noticing' a nature, he would certainly have found +himself going round the house a second time. He seemed so anxious to be +asked questions, too, that James felt he must be on his guard. He began +to suffer from his exertions, for, though wiry enough for a man of his +long build, he was seventy-five years old. + +He grew discouraged; he seemed no nearer to anything, had not obtained +from his inspection any of the knowledge he had vaguely hoped for. He +had merely increased his dislike and mistrust of this young man, who had +tired him out with his politeness, and in whose manner he now certainly +detected mockery. + +The fellow was sharper than he had thought, and better-looking than he +had hoped. He had a--a 'don't care' appearance that James, to whom risk +was the most intolerable thing in life, did not appreciate; a peculiar +smile, too, coming when least expected; and very queer eyes. He reminded +James, as he said afterwards, of a hungry cat. This was as near as he +could get, in conversation with Emily, to a description of the peculiar +exasperation, velvetiness, and mockery, of which Bosinney's manner had +been composed. + +At last, having seen all that was to be seen, he came out again at the +door where he had gone in; and now, feeling that he was wasting time and +strength and money, all for nothing, he took the courage of a Forsyte in +both hands, and, looking sharply at Bosinney, said: + +"I dare say you see a good deal of my daughter-in-law; now, what does she +think of the house? But she hasn't seen it, I suppose?" + +This he said, knowing all about Irene's visit not, of course, that there +was anything in the visit, except that extraordinary remark she had made +about 'not caring to get home'--and the story of how June had taken the +news! + +He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give Bosinney +a chance, as he said to himself. + +The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with uncomfortable +steadiness on James. + +"She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of it." + +Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from letting +the matter drop. + +"Oh!" he said, "she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I suppose?" + +Bosinney smilingly replied: "Oh, no!" + +"What, did she come down alone?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then--who brought her?" + +"I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought her." + +To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared +incomprehensible. + +"Why!" he stammered, "you know that...." but he stopped, suddenly +perceiving his danger. + +"Well," he said, "if you don't want to tell me I suppose you won't! +Nobody tells me anything." + +Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question. + +"By the by," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to be any +more of you coming down? I should like to be on the spot!" + +"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I don't +know of any more. Good-bye?" + +Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of it with +Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, walked away +along the terrace. + +Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney following +him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to himself, 'like a +great cat.' He paid no attention when the young fellow raised his hat. + +Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still more. +Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, and disheartened, +he made his way back to the station. + +The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps for his +behaviour to the old man. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND + +James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, having +occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter connected with a +drainage scheme which was being forced by the sanitary authorities on his +brother, he mentioned it there. + +It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal could be +made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though what it was going +to cost Soames before it was done with he didn't know. + +Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come round to +borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and Paregoric', which +was having such a vogue--chimed in. + +"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were having a +nice little chat in the Groceries." + +It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really made a +deep and complicated impression on her. She had been hurrying to the +silk department of the Church and Commercial Stores--that Institution +than which, with its admirable system, admitting only guaranteed persons +on a basis of payment before delivery, no emporium can be more highly +recommended to Forsytes--to match a piece of prunella silk for her +mother, who was waiting in the carriage outside. + +Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted by the +back view of a very beautiful figure. It was so charmingly proportioned, +so balanced, and so well clothed, that Euphemia's instinctive propriety +was at once alarmed; such figures, she knew, by intuition rather than +experience, were rarely connected with virtue--certainly never in her +mind, for her own back was somewhat difficult to fit. + +Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming from the +Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the lady with the +unknown back. + +It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was +undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing herself +rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for she was +impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her hands, and at +the busy time of the morning, she was quite unintentionally an interested +observer of their little interview. + +Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in her +cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though attractive (she +thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, and George's name for +him, 'The Buccaneer'--about which there was something romantic--quite +charming). He seemed to be pleading. Indeed, they talked so +earnestly--or, rather, he talked so earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not +say much--that they caused, inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One +nice old General, going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of +the way, and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually +took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man! + +But it was Mrs. Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never once +looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she looked after him. +And, oh, that look! + +On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not too much +to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering softness, for all +the world as though the woman wanted to drag him back, and unsay +something she had been saying. + +Ah, well, she had had no time to go deeply into the matter just then, +with that prunella silk on her hands; but she was 'very intriguee'--very! +She had just nodded to Mrs. Soames, to show her that she had seen; and, +as she confided, in talking it over afterwards, to her chum Francie +(Roger's daughter), "Didn't she look caught out just? ...." + +James, most averse at the first blush to accepting any news confirmatory +of his own poignant suspicions, took her up at once. + +"Oh" he said, "they'd be after wall-papers no doubt." + +Euphemia smiled. "In the Groceries?" she said softly; and, taking +'Passion and Paregoric' from the table, added: "And so you'll lend me +this, dear Auntie? Good-bye!" and went away. + +James left almost immediately after; he was late as it was. + +When he reached the office of Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte, he found +Soames, sitting in his revolving, chair, drawing up a defence. The +latter greeted his father with a curt good-morning, and, taking an +envelope from his pocket, said: + +"It may interest you to look through this." + +James read as follows: + +309D, SLOANE STREET, May 15. +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'The construction of your house being now completed, my duties as +architect have come to an end. If I am to go on with the business of +decoration, which at your request I undertook, I should like you to +clearly understand that I must have a free hand. + +'You never come down without suggesting something that goes counter to my +scheme. I have here three letters from you, each of which recommends an +article I should never dream of putting in. I had your father here +yesterday afternoon, who made further valuable suggestions. + +'Please make up your mind, therefore, whether you want me to decorate for +you, or to retire which on the whole I should prefer to do. + +'But understand that, if I decorate, I decorate alone, without +interference of any sort. + +If I do the thing, I will do it thoroughly, but I must have a free hand. + +'Yours truly, +'PHILIP BOSINNEY.' + +The exact and immediate cause of this letter cannot, of course, be told, +though it is not improbable that Bosinney may have been moved by some +sudden revolt against his position towards Soames--that eternal position +of Art towards Property--which is so admirably summed up, on the back of +the most indispensable of modern appliances, in a sentence comparable to +the very finest in Tacitus: + +THOS. T. SORROW, Inventor. BERT M. PADLAND, Proprietor. + +"What are you going to say to him?" James asked. + +Soames did not even turn his head. "I haven't made up my mind," he said, +and went on with his defence. + +A client of his, having put some buildings on a piece of ground that did +not belong to him, had been suddenly and most irritatingly warned to take +them off again. After carefully going into the facts, however, Soames +had seen his way to advise that his client had what was known as a title +by possession, and that, though undoubtedly the ground did not belong to +him, he was entitled to keep it, and had better do so; and he was now +following up this advice by taking steps to--as the sailors say--'make +it so.' + +He had a distinct reputation for sound advice; people saying of him: "Go +to young Forsyte--a long-headed fellow!" and he prized this reputation +highly. + +His natural taciturnity was in his favour; nothing could be more +calculated to give people, especially people with property (Soames had no +other clients), the impression that he was a safe man. And he was safe. +Tradition, habit, education, inherited aptitude, native caution, all +joined to form a solid professional honesty, superior to temptation--from +the very fact that it was built on an innate avoidance of risk. How +could he fall, when his soul abhorred circumstances which render a fall +possible--a man cannot fall off the floor! + +And those countless Forsytes, who, in the course of innumerable +transactions concerned with property of all sorts (from wives to water +rights), had occasion for the services of a safe man, found it both +reposeful and profitable to confide in Soames. That slight +superciliousness of his, combined with an air of mousing amongst +precedents, was in his favour too--a man would not be supercilious unless +he knew! + +He was really at the head of the business, for though James still came +nearly every day to, see for himself, he did little now but sit in his +chair, twist his legs, slightly confuse things already decided, and +presently go away again, and the other partner, Bustard, was a poor +thing, who did a great deal of work, but whose opinion was never taken. + +So Soames went steadily on with his defence. Yet it would be idle to say +that his mind was at ease. He was suffering from a sense of impending +trouble, that had haunted him for some time past. He tried to think it +physical--a condition of his liver--but knew that it was not. + +He looked at his watch. In a quarter of an hour he was due at the +General Meeting of the New Colliery Company--one of Uncle Jolyon's +concerns; he should see Uncle Jolyon there, and say something to him +about Bosinney--he had not made up his mind what, but something--in any +case he should not answer this letter until he had seen Uncle Jolyon. He +got up and methodically put away the draft of his defence. Going into a +dark little cupboard, he turned up the light, washed his hands with a +piece of brown Windsor soap, and dried them on a roller towel. Then he +brushed his hair, paying strict attention to the parting, turned down the +light, took his hat, and saying he would be back at half-past two, +stepped into the Poultry. + +It was not far to the Offices of the New Colliery Company in Ironmonger +Lane, where, and not at the Cannon Street Hotel, in accordance with the +more ambitious practice of other companies, the General Meeting was +always held. Old Jolyon had from the first set his face against the +Press. What business--he said--had the Public with his concerns! + +Soames arrived on the stroke of time, and took his seat alongside the +Board, who, in a row, each Director behind his own ink-pot, faced their +Shareholders. + +In the centre of this row old Jolyon, conspicuous in his black, +tightly-buttoned frock-coat and his white moustaches, was leaning back +with finger tips crossed on a copy of the Directors' report and accounts. + +On his right hand, always a little larger than life, sat the Secretary, +'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings; an all-too-sad sadness beaming in his fine +eyes; his iron-grey beard, in mourning like the rest of him, giving the +feeling of an all-too-black tie behind it. + +The occasion indeed was a melancholy one, only six weeks having elapsed +since that telegram had come from Scorrier, the mining expert, on a +private mission to the Mines, informing them that Pippin, their +Superintendent, had committed suicide in endeavouring, after his +extraordinary two years' silence, to write a letter to his Board. That +letter was on the table now; it would be read to the Shareholders, who +would of course be put into possession of all the facts. + +Hemmings had often said to Soames, standing with his coat-tails divided +before the fireplace: + +"What our Shareholders don't know about our affairs isn't worth knowing. +You may take that from me, Mr. Soames." + +On one occasion, old Jolyon being present, Soames recollected a little +unpleasantness. His uncle had looked up sharply and said: "Don't talk +nonsense, Hemmings! You mean that what they do know isn't worth +knowing!" Old Jolyon detested humbug. + +Hemmings, angry-eyed, and wearing a smile like that of a trained poodle, +had replied in an outburst of artificial applause: "Come, now, that's +good, sir--that's very good. Your uncle will have his joke!" + +The next time he had seen Soames he had taken the opportunity of saying +to him: "The chairman's getting very old!--I can't get him to understand +things; and he's so wilful--but what can you expect, with a chin like +his?" + +Soames had nodded. + +Everyone knew that Uncle Jolyon's chin was a caution. He was looking +worried to-day, in spite of his General Meeting look; he (Soames) should +certainly speak to him about Bosinney. + +Beyond old Jolyon on the left was little Mr. Booker, and he, too, wore +his General Meeting look, as though searching for some particularly +tender shareholder. And next him was the deaf director, with a frown; +and beyond the deaf director, again, was old Mr. Bleedham, very bland, +and having an air of conscious virtue--as well he might, knowing that the +brown-paper parcel he always brought to the Board-room was concealed +behind his hat (one of that old-fashioned class, of flat-brimmed top-hats +which go with very large bow ties, clean-shaven lips, fresh cheeks, and +neat little, white whiskers). + +Soames always attended the General Meeting; it was considered better that +he should do so, in case 'anything should arise!' He glanced round with +his close, supercilious air at the walls of the room, where hung plans of +the mine and harbour, together with a large photograph of a shaft leading +to a working which had proved quite remarkably unprofitable. This +photograph--a witness to the eternal irony underlying commercial +enterprise till retained its position on the--wall, an effigy of the +directors' pet, but dead, lamb. + +And now old Jolyon rose, to present the report and accounts. + +Veiling under a Jove-like serenity that perpetual antagonism deep-seated +in the bosom of a director towards his shareholders, he faced them +calmly. Soames faced them too. He knew most of them by sight. There +was old Scrubsole, a tar man, who always came, as Hemmings would say, 'to +make himself nasty,' a cantankerous-looking old fellow with a red face, a +jowl, and an enormous low-crowned hat reposing on his knee. And the Rev. +Mr. Boms, who always proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman, in which +he invariably expressed the hope that the Board would not forget to +elevate their employees, using the word with a double e, as being more +vigorous and Anglo-Saxon (he had the strong Imperialistic tendencies of +his cloth). It was his salutary custom to buttonhole a director +afterwards, and ask him whether he thought the coming year would be good +or bad; and, according to the trend of the answer, to buy or sell three +shares within the ensuing fortnight. + +And there was that military man, Major O'Bally, who could not help +speaking, if only to second the re-election of the auditor, and who +sometimes caused serious consternation by taking toasts--proposals +rather--out of the hands of persons who had been flattered with little +slips of paper, entrusting the said proposals to their care. + +These made up the lot, together with four or five strong, silent +shareholders, with whom Soames could sympathize--men of business, who +liked to keep an eye on their affairs for themselves, without being +fussy--good, solid men, who came to the City every day and went back in +the evening to good, solid wives. + +Good, solid wives! There was something in that thought which roused the +nameless uneasiness in Soames again. + +What should he say to his uncle? What answer should he make to this +letter? + +. . . . "If any shareholder has any question to put, I shall be glad +to answer it." A soft thump. Old Jolyon had let the report and accounts +fall, and stood twisting his tortoise-shell glasses between thumb and +forefinger. + +The ghost of a smile appeared on Soames' face. They had better hurry up +with their questions! He well knew his uncle's method (the ideal one) of +at once saying: "I propose, then, that the report and accounts be +adopted!" Never let them get their wind--shareholders were notoriously +wasteful of time! + +A tall, white-bearded man, with a gaunt, dissatisfied face, arose: + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman, in raising a question on this +figure of L5000 in the accounts. 'To the widow and family"' (he looked +sourly round), "'of our late superintendent,' who so--er--ill-advisedly +(I say--ill-advisedly) committed suicide, at a time when his services +were of the utmost value to this Company. You have stated that the +agreement which he has so unfortunately cut short with his own hand was +for a period of five years, of which one only had expired--I--" + +Old Jolyon made a gesture of impatience. + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman--I ask whether this amount paid, +or proposed to be paid, by the Board to the er--deceased--is for +services which might have been rendered to the Company--had he not +committed suicide?" + +"It is in recognition of past services, which we all know--you as well as +any of us--to have been of vital value." + +"Then, sir, all I have to say is that the services being past, the amount +is too much." + +The shareholder sat down. + +Old Jolyon waited a second and said: "I now propose that the report +and--" + +The shareholder rose again: "May I ask if the Board realizes that it is +not their money which--I don't hesitate to say that if it were their +money...." + +A second shareholder, with a round, dogged face, whom Soames recognised +as the late superintendent's brother-in-law, got up and said warmly: "In +my opinion, sir, the sum is not enough!" + +The Rev. Mr. Boms now rose to his feet. "If I may venture to express +myself," he said, "I should say that the fact of the--er--deceased +having committed suicide should weigh very heavily--very heavily with +our worthy chairman. I have no doubt it has weighed with him, for--I say +this for myself and I think for everyone present (hear, hear)--he enjoys +our confidence in a high degree. We all desire, I should hope, to be +charitable. But I feel sure" (he-looked severely at the late +superintendent's brother-in-law) "that he will in some way, by some +written expression, or better perhaps by reducing the amount, record our +grave disapproval that so promising and valuable a life should have been +thus impiously removed from a sphere where both its own interests and--if +I may say so--our interests so imperatively demanded its continuance. We +should not--nay, we may not--countenance so grave a dereliction of all +duty, both human and divine." + +The reverend gentleman resumed his seat. The late superintendent's +brother-in-law again rose: "What I have said I stick to," he said; "the +amount is not enough!" + +The first shareholder struck in: "I challenge the legality of the +payment. In my opinion this payment is not legal. The Company's +solicitor is present; I believe I am in order in asking him the +question." + +All eyes were now turned upon Soames. Something had arisen! + +He stood up, close-lipped and cold; his nerves inwardly fluttered, his +attention tweaked away at last from contemplation of that cloud looming +on the horizon of his mind. + +"The point," he said in a low, thin voice, "is by no means clear. As +there is no possibility of future consideration being received, it is +doubtful whether the payment is strictly legal. If it is desired, the +opinion of the court could be taken." + +The superintendent's brother-in-law frowned, and said in a meaning tone: +"We have no doubt the opinion of the court could be taken. May I ask the +name of the gentleman who has given us that striking piece of +information? Mr. Soames Forsyte? Indeed!" He looked from Soames to old +Jolyon in a pointed manner. + +A flush coloured Soames' pale cheeks, but his superciliousness did not +waver. Old Jolyon fixed his eyes on the speaker. + +"If," he said, "the late superintendents brother-in-law has nothing more +to say, I propose that the report and accounts...." + +At this moment, however, there rose one of those five silent, stolid +shareholders, who had excited Soames' sympathy. He said: + +"I deprecate the proposal altogether. We are expected to give charity to +this man's wife and children, who, you tell us, were dependent on him. +They may have been; I do not care whether they were or not. I object to +the whole thing on principle. It is high time a stand was made against +this sentimental humanitarianism. The country is eaten up with it. I +object to my money being paid to these people of whom I know nothing, who +have done nothing to earn it. I object in toto; it is not business. I +now move that the report and accounts be put back, and amended by +striking out the grant altogether." + +Old Jolyon had remained standing while the strong, silent man was +speaking. The speech awoke an echo in all hearts, voicing, as it did, +the worship of strong men, the movement against generosity, which had at +that time already commenced among the saner members of the community. + +The words 'it is not business' had moved even the Board; privately +everyone felt that indeed it was not. But they knew also the chairman's +domineering temper and tenacity. He, too, at heart must feel that it was +not business; but he was committed to his own proposition. Would he go +back upon it? It was thought to be unlikely. + +All waited with interest. Old Jolyon held up his hand; dark-rimmed +glasses depending between his finger and thumb quivered slightly with a +suggestion of menace. + +He addressed the strong, silent shareholder. + +"Knowing, as you do, the efforts of our late superintendent upon the +occasion of the explosion at the mines, do you seriously wish me to put +that amendment, sir?" + +"I do." + +Old Jolyon put the amendment. + +"Does anyone second this?" he asked, looking calmly round. + +And it was then that Soames, looking at his uncle, felt the power of will +that was in that old man. No one stirred. Looking straight into the +eyes of the strong, silent shareholder, old Jolyon said: + +"I now move, 'That the report and accounts for the year 1886 be received +and adopted.' You second that? Those in favour signify the same in the +usual way. Contrary--no. Carried. The next business, gentlemen...." + +Soames smiled. Certainly Uncle Jolyon had a way with him! + +But now his attention relapsed upon Bosinney. + +Odd how that fellow haunted his thoughts, even in business hours. + +Irene's visit to the house--but there was nothing in that, except that +she might have told him; but then, again, she never did tell him +anything. She was more silent, more touchy, every day. He wished to God +the house were finished, and they were in it, away from London. Town did +not suit her; her nerves were not strong enough. That nonsense of the +separate room had cropped up again! + +The meeting was breaking up now. Underneath the photograph of the lost +shaft Hemmings was buttonholed by the Rev. Mr. Boms. Little Mr. Booker, +his bristling eyebrows wreathed in angry smiles, was having a parting +turn-up with old Scrubsole. The two hated each other like poison. There +was some matter of a tar-contract between them, little Mr. Booker having +secured it from the Board for a nephew of his, over old Scrubsole's head. +Soames had heard that from Hemmings, who liked a gossip, more especially +about his directors, except, indeed, old Jolyon, of whom he was afraid. + +Soames awaited his opportunity. The last shareholder was vanishing +through the door, when he approached his uncle, who was putting on his +hat. + +"Can I speak to you for a minute, Uncle Jolyon?" + +It is uncertain what Soames expected to get out of this interview. + +Apart from that somewhat mysterious awe in which Forsytes in general held +old Jolyon, due to his philosophic twist, or perhaps--as Hemmings would +doubtless have said--to his chin, there was, and always had been, a +subtle antagonism between the younger man and the old. It had lurked +under their dry manner of greeting, under their non-committal allusions +to each other, and arose perhaps from old Jolyon's perception of the +quiet tenacity ('obstinacy,' he rather naturally called it) of the young +man, of a secret doubt whether he could get his own way with him. + +Both these Forsytes, wide asunder as the poles in many respects, +possessed in their different ways--to a greater degree than the rest of +the family--that essential quality of tenacious and prudent insight into +'affairs,' which is the highwater mark of their great class. Either of +them, with a little luck and opportunity, was equal to a lofty career; +either of them would have made a good financier, a great contractor, a +statesman, though old Jolyon, in certain of his moods when under the +influence of a cigar or of Nature--would have been capable of, not +perhaps despising, but certainly of questioning, his own high position, +while Soames, who never smoked cigars, would not. + +Then, too, in old Jolyon's mind there was always the secret ache, that +the son of James--of James, whom he had always thought such a poor thing, +should be pursuing the paths of success, while his own son...! + +And last, not least--for he was no more outside the radiation of family +gossip than any other Forsyte--he had now heard the sinister, indefinite, +but none the less disturbing rumour about Bosinney, and his pride was +wounded to the quick. + +Characteristically, his irritation turned not against Irene but against +Soames. The idea that his nephew's wife (why couldn't the fellow take +better care of her--Oh! quaint injustice! as though Soames could +possibly take more care!)--should be drawing to herself June's lover, was +intolerably humiliating. And seeing the danger, he did not, like James, +hide it away in sheer nervousness, but owned with the dispassion of his +broader outlook, that it was not unlikely; there was something very +attractive about Irene! + +He had a presentiment on the subject of Soames' communication as they +left the Board Room together, and went out into the noise and hurry of +Cheapside. They walked together a good minute without speaking, Soames +with his mousing, mincing step, and old Jolyon upright and using his +umbrella languidly as a walking-stick. + +They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon's way to a +second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street. + +Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: "I've had this letter from +Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I'd let you know. I've spent +a lot more than I intended on this house, and I want the position to be +clear." + +Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: "What he says is +clear enough," he said. + +"He talks about 'a free hand,'" replied Soames. + +Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and antagonism +towards this young fellow, whose affairs were beginning to intrude upon +his own, burst from him. + +"Well, if you don't trust him, why do you employ him?" + +Soames stole a sideway look: "It's much too late to go into that," he +said, "I only want it to be quite understood that if I give him a free +hand, he doesn't let me in. I thought if you were to speak to him, it +would carry more weight!" + +"No," said old Jolyon abruptly; "I'll have nothing to do with it!" + +The words of both uncle and nephew gave the impression of unspoken +meanings, far more important, behind. And the look they interchanged was +like a revelation of this consciousness. + +"Well," said Soames; "I thought, for June's sake, I'd tell you, that's +all; I thought you'd better know I shan't stand any nonsense!" + +"What is that to me?" old Jolyon took him up. + +"Oh! I don't know," said Soames, and flurried by that sharp look he was +unable to say more. "Don't say I didn't tell you," he added sulkily, +recovering his composure. + +"Tell me!" said old Jolyon; "I don't know what you mean. You come +worrying me about a thing like this. I don't want to hear about your +affairs; you must manage them yourself!" + +"Very well," said Soames immovably, "I will!" + +"Good-morning, then," said old Jolyon, and they parted. + +Soames retraced his steps, and going into a celebrated eating-house, +asked for a plate of smoked salmon and a glass of Chablis; he seldom ate +much in the middle of the day, and generally ate standing, finding the +position beneficial to his liver, which was very sound, but to which he +desired to put down all his troubles. + +When he had finished he went slowly back to his office, with bent head, +taking no notice of the swarming thousands on the pavements, who in their +turn took no notice of him. + +The evening post carried the following reply to Bosinney: + +'FORSYTE, BUSTARD AND FORSYTE, 'Commissioners for Oaths, '92001, BRANCH +LANE, POULTRY, E.C., + +'May 17, 1887. +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I have, received your letter, the terms of which not a little surprise +me. I was under the impression that you had, and have had all along, a +"free hand"; for I do not recollect that any suggestions I have been so +unfortunate as to make have met with your approval. In giving you, in +accordance with your request, this "free hand," I wish you to clearly +understand that the total cost of the house as handed over to me +completely decorated, inclusive of your fee (as arranged between us), +must not exceed twelve thousand pounds--L12,000. This gives you an ample +margin, and, as you know, is far more than I originally contemplated. + +'I am, 'Yours truly, + + 'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + +On the following day he received a note from Bosinney: + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY, 'Architect, '309D, SLOANE STREET, S.W., 'May 18. +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'If you think that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can bind +myself to the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken. I can see that +you are tired of the arrangement, and of me, and I had better, therefore, +resign. + +'Yours faithfully, +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY.' + +Soames pondered long and painfully over his answer, and late at night in +the dining-room, when Irene had gone to bed, he composed the following: + +'62, MONTPELLIER SQUARE, S.W., 'May 19, 1887. +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I think that in both our interests it would be extremely undesirable +that matters should be so left at this stage. I did not mean to say that +if you should exceed the sum named in my letter to you by ten or twenty +or even fifty pounds, there would be any difficulty between us. This +being so, I should like you to reconsider your answer. You have a "free +hand" in the terms of this correspondence, and I hope you will see your +way to completing the decorations, in the matter of which I know it is +difficult to be absolutely exact. + +'Yours truly, +'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + +Bosinney's answer, which came in the course of the next day, was: + +'May 20. +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'Very well. +'PH. BOSINNEY.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OLD JOLYON AT THE ZOO + +Old Jolyon disposed of his second Meeting--an ordinary Board--summarily. +He was so dictatorial that his fellow directors were left in cabal over +the increasing domineeringness of old Forsyte, which they were far from +intending to stand much longer, they said. + +He went out by Underground to Portland Road Station, whence he took a cab +and drove to the Zoo. + +He had an assignation there, one of those assignations that had lately +been growing more frequent, to which his increasing uneasiness about June +and the 'change in her,' as he expressed it, was driving him. + +She buried herself away, and was growing thin; if he spoke to her he got +no answer, or had his head snapped off, or she looked as if she would +burst into tears. She was as changed as she could be, all through this +Bosinney. As for telling him about anything, not a bit of it! + +And he would sit for long spells brooding, his paper unread before him, a +cigar extinct between his lips. She had been such a companion to him +ever since she was three years old! And he loved her so! + +Forces regardless of family or class or custom were beating down his +guard; impending events over which he had no control threw their shadows +on his head. The irritation of one accustomed to have his way was roused +against he knew not what. + +Chafing at the slowness of his cab, he reached the Zoo door; but, with +his sunny instinct for seizing the good of each moment, he forgot his +vexation as he walked towards the tryst. + +From the stone terrace above the bear-pit his son and his two +grandchildren came hastening down when they saw old Jolyon coming, and +led him away towards the lion-house. They supported him on either side, +holding one to each of his hands,--whilst Jolly, perverse like his +father, carried his grandfather's umbrella in such a way as to catch +people's legs with the crutch of the handle. + +Young Jolyon followed. + +It was as good as a play to see his father with the children, but such a +play as brings smiles with tears behind. An old man and two small +children walking together can be seen at any hour of the day; but the +sight of old Jolyon, with Jolly and Holly seemed to young Jolyon a +special peep-show of the things that lie at the bottom of our hearts. +The complete surrender of that erect old figure to those little figures +on either hand was too poignantly tender, and, being a man of an habitual +reflex action, young Jolyon swore softly under his breath. The show +affected him in a way unbecoming to a Forsyte, who is nothing if not +undemonstrative. + +Thus they reached the lion-house. + +There had been a morning fete at the Botanical Gardens, and a large +number of Forsy...'--that is, of well-dressed people who kept carriages +had brought them on to the Zoo, so as to have more, if possible, for +their money, before going back to Rutland Gate or Bryanston Square. + +"Let's go on to the Zoo," they had said to each other; "it'll be great +fun!" It was a shilling day; and there would not be all those horrid +common people. + +In front of the long line of cages they were collected in rows, watching +the tawny, ravenous beasts behind the bars await their only pleasure of +the four-and-twenty hours. The hungrier the beast, the greater the +fascination. But whether because the spectators envied his appetite, or, +more humanely, because it was so soon to be satisfied, young Jolyon could +not tell. Remarks kept falling on his ears: "That's a nasty-looking +brute, that tiger!" "Oh, what a love! Look at his little mouth!" "Yes, +he's rather nice! Don't go too near, mother." + +And frequently, with little pats, one or another would clap their hands +to their pockets behind and look round, as though expecting young Jolyon +or some disinterested-looking person to relieve them of the contents. + +A well-fed man in a white waistcoat said slowly through his teeth: "It's +all greed; they can't be hungry. Why, they take no exercise." At these +words a tiger snatched a piece of bleeding liver, and the fat man +laughed. His wife, in a Paris model frock and gold nose-nippers, +reproved him: "How can you laugh, Harry? Such a horrid sight!" + +Young Jolyon frowned. + +The circumstances of his life, though he had ceased to take a too +personal view of them, had left him subject to an intermittent contempt; +and the class to which he had belonged--the carriage class--especially +excited his sarcasm. + +To shut up a lion or tiger in confinement was surely a horrible +barbarity. But no cultivated person would admit this. + +The idea of its being barbarous to confine wild animals had probably +never even occurred to his father for instance; he belonged to the old +school, who considered it at once humanizing and educational to confine +baboons and panthers, holding the view, no doubt, that in course of time +they might induce these creatures not so unreasonably to die of misery +and heart-sickness against the bars of their cages, and put the society +to the expense of getting others! In his eyes, as in the eyes of all +Forsytes, the pleasure of seeing these beautiful creatures in a state of +captivity far outweighed the inconvenience of imprisonment to beasts whom +God had so improvidently placed in a state of freedom! It was for the +animals good, removing them at once from the countless dangers of open +air and exercise, and enabling them to exercise their functions in the +guaranteed seclusion of a private compartment! Indeed, it was doubtful +what wild animals were made for but to be shut up in cages! + +But as young Jolyon had in his constitution the elements of impartiality, +he reflected that to stigmatize as barbarity that which was merely lack +of imagination must be wrong; for none who held these views had been +placed in a similar position to the animals they caged, and could not, +therefore, be expected to enter into their sensations. It was not until +they were leaving the gardens--Jolly and Holly in a state of blissful +delirium--that old Jolyon found an opportunity of speaking to his son on +the matter next his heart. "I don't know what to make of it," he said; +"if she's to go on as she's going on now, I can't tell what's to come. +I wanted her to see the doctor, but she won't. She's not a bit like me. +She's your mother all over. Obstinate as a mule! If she doesn't want +to do a thing, she won't, and there's an end of it!" + +Young Jolyon smiled; his eyes had wandered to his father's chin. 'A pair +of you,' he thought, but he said nothing. + +"And then," went on old Jolyon, "there's this Bosinney. I should like +to punch the fellow's head, but I can't, I suppose, though--I don't see +why you shouldn't," he added doubtfully. + +"What has he done? Far better that it should come to an end, if they +don't hit it off!" + +Old Jolyon looked at his son. Now they had actually come to discuss a +subject connected with the relations between the sexes he felt +distrustful. Jo would be sure to hold some loose view or other. + +"Well, I don't know what you think," he said; "I dare say your sympathy's +with him--shouldn't be surprised; but I think he's behaving precious +badly, and if he comes my way I shall tell him so." He dropped the +subject. + +It was impossible to discuss with his son the true nature and meaning of +Bosinney's defection. Had not his son done the very same thing (worse, +if possible) fifteen years ago? There seemed no end to the consequences +of that piece of folly. + +Young Jolyon also was silent; he had quickly penetrated his father's +thought, for, dethroned from the high seat of an obvious and +uncomplicated view of things, he had become both perceptive and subtle. + +The attitude he had adopted towards sexual matters fifteen years before, +however, was too different from his father's. There was no bridging the +gulf. + +He said coolly: "I suppose he's fallen in love with some other woman?" + +Old Jolyon gave him a dubious look: "I can't tell," he said; "they say +so!" + +"Then, it's probably true," remarked young Jolyon unexpectedly; "and I +suppose they've told you who she is?" + +"Yes," said old Jolyon, "Soames's wife!" + +Young Jolyon did not whistle: The circumstances of his own life had +rendered him incapable of whistling on such a subject, but he looked at +his father, while the ghost of a smile hovered over his face. + +If old Jolyon saw, he took no notice. + +"She and June were bosom friends!" he muttered. + +"Poor little June!" said young Jolyon softly. He thought of his daughter +still as a babe of three. + +Old Jolyon came to a sudden halt. + +"I don't believe a word of it," he said, "it's some old woman's tale. +Get me a cab, Jo, I'm tired to death!" + +They stood at a corner to see if an empty cab would come along, while +carriage after carriage drove past, bearing Forsytes of all descriptions +from the Zoo. The harness, the liveries, the gloss on the horses' coats, +shone and glittered in the May sunlight, and each equipage, landau, +sociable, barouche, Victoria, or brougham, seemed to roll out proudly +from its wheels: + +'I and my horses and my men you know,' Indeed the whole turn-out have +cost a pot. But we were worth it every penny. Look At Master and at +Missis now, the dawgs! Ease with security--ah! that's the ticket! + +And such, as everyone knows, is fit accompaniment for a perambulating +Forsyte. + +Amongst these carriages was a barouche coming at a greater pace than the +others, drawn by a pair of bright bay horses. It swung on its high +springs, and the four people who filled it seemed rocked as in a cradle. + +This chariot attracted young Jolyon's attention; and suddenly, on the +back seat, he recognised his Uncle James, unmistakable in spite of the +increased whiteness of his whiskers; opposite, their backs defended by +sunshades, Rachel Forsyte and her elder but married sister, Winifred +Dartie, in irreproachable toilettes, had posed their heads haughtily, +like two of the birds they had been seeing at the Zoo; while by James' +side reclined Dartie, in a brand-new frock-coat buttoned tight and +square, with a large expanse of carefully shot linen protruding below +each wristband. + +An extra, if subdued, sparkle, an added touch of the best gloss or +varnish characterized this vehicle, and seemed to distinguish it from all +the others, as though by some happy extravagance--like that which marks +out the real 'work of art' from the ordinary 'picture'--it were +designated as the typical car, the very throne of Forsytedom. + +Old Jolyon did not see them pass; he was petting poor Holly who was +tired, but those in the carriage had taken in the little group; the +ladies' heads tilted suddenly, there was a spasmodic screening movement +of parasols; James' face protruded naively, like the head of a long bird, +his mouth slowly opening. The shield-like rounds of the parasols grew +smaller and smaller, and vanished. + +Young Jolyon saw that he had been recognised, even by Winifred, who could +not have been more than fifteen when he had forfeited the right to be +considered a Forsyte. + +There was not much change in them! He remembered the exact look of their +turn-out all that time ago: Horses, men, carriage--all different now, no +doubt--but of the precise stamp of fifteen years before; the same neat +display, the same nicely calculated arrogance ease with security! The +swing exact, the pose of the sunshades exact, exact the spirit of the +whole thing. + +And in the sunlight, defended by the haughty shields of parasols, +carriage after carriage went by. + +"Uncle James has just passed, with his female folk," said young Jolyon. + +His father looked black. "Did your uncle see us? Yes? Hmph! What's he +want, coming down into these parts?" + +An empty cab drove up at this moment, and old Jolyon stopped it. + +"I shall see you again before long, my boy!" he said. "Don't you go +paying any attention to what I've been saying about young Bosinney--I +don't believe a word of it!" + +Kissing the children, who tried to detain him, he stepped in and was +borne away. + +Young Jolyon, who had taken Holly up in his arms, stood motionless at the +corner, looking after the cab. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AFTERNOON AT TIMOTHY'S + +If old Jolyon, as he got into his cab, had said: 'I won't believe a word +of it!' he would more truthfully have expressed his sentiments. + +The notion that James and his womankind had seen him in the company of +his son had awakened in him not only the impatience he always felt when +crossed, but that secret hostility natural between brothers, the roots of +which--little nursery rivalries--sometimes toughen and deepen as life +goes on, and, all hidden, support a plant capable of producing in season +the bitterest fruits. + +Hitherto there had been between these six brothers no more unfriendly +feeling than that caused by the secret and natural doubt that the others +might be richer than themselves; a feeling increased to the pitch of +curiosity by the approach of death--that end of all handicaps--and the +great 'closeness' of their man of business, who, with some sagacity, +would profess to Nicholas ignorance of James' income, to James ignorance +of old Jolyon's, to Jolyon ignorance of Roger's, to Roger ignorance of +Swithin's, while to Swithin he would say most irritatingly that Nicholas +must be a rich man. Timothy alone was exempt, being in gilt-edged +securities. + +But now, between two of them at least, had arisen a very different sense +of injury. From the moment when James had the impertinence to pry into +his affairs--as he put it--old Jolyon no longer chose to credit this +story about Bosinney. His grand-daughter slighted through a member of +'that fellow's' family! He made up his mind that Bosinney was maligned. +There must be some other reason for his defection. + +June had flown out at him, or something; she was as touchy as she could +be! + +He would, however, let Timothy have a bit of his mind, and see if he +would go on dropping hints! And he would not let the grass grow under +his feet either, he would go there at once, and take very good care that +he didn't have to go again on the same errand. + +He saw James' carriage blocking the pavement in front of 'The Bower.' So +they had got there before him--cackling about having seen him, he dared +say! And further on, Swithin's greys were turning their noses towards +the noses of James' bays, as though in conclave over the family, while +their coachmen were in conclave above. + +Old Jolyon, depositing his hat on the chair in the narrow hall, where +that hat of Bosinney's had so long ago been mistaken for a cat, passed +his thin hand grimly over his face with its great drooping white +moustaches, as though to remove all traces of expression, and made his +way upstairs. + +He found the front drawing-room full. It was full enough at the best of +times--without visitors--without any one in it--for Timothy and his +sisters, following the tradition of their generation, considered that a +room was not quite 'nice' unless it was 'properly' furnished. It held, +therefore, eleven chairs, a sofa, three tables, two cabinets, innumerable +knicknacks, and part of a large grand piano. And now, occupied by Mrs. +Small, Aunt Hester, by Swithin, James, Rachel, Winifred, Euphemia, who +had come in again to return 'Passion and Paregoric' which she had read at +lunch, and her chum Frances, Roger's daughter (the musical Forsyte, the +one who composed songs), there was only one chair left unoccupied, +except, of course, the two that nobody ever sat on--and the only standing +room was occupied by the cat, on whom old Jolyon promptly stepped. + +In these days it was by no means unusual for Timothy to have so many +visitors. The family had always, one and all, had a real respect for +Aunt Ann, and now that she was gone, they were coming far more frequently +to The Bower, and staying longer. + +Swithin had been the first to arrive, and seated torpid in a red satin +chair with a gilt back, he gave every appearance of lasting the others +out. And symbolizing Bosinney's name 'the big one,' with his great +stature and bulk, his thick white hair, his puffy immovable shaven face, +he looked more primeval than ever in the highly upholstered room. + +His conversation, as usual of late, had turned at once upon Irene, and he +had lost no time in giving Aunts Juley and Hester his opinion with regard +to this rumour he heard was going about. No--as he said--she might want a +bit of flirtation--a pretty woman must have her fling; but more than that +he did not believe. Nothing open; she had too much good sense, too much +proper appreciation of what was due to her position, and to the family! +No sc..., he was going to say 'scandal' but the very idea was so +preposterous that he waved his hand as though to say--'but let that +pass!' + +Granted that Swithin took a bachelor's view of the situation--still what +indeed was not due to that family in which so many had done so well for +themselves, had attained a certain position? If he had heard in dark, +pessimistic moments the words 'yeomen' and 'very small beer' used in +connection with his origin, did he believe them? + +No! he cherished, hugging it pathetically to his bosom the secret theory +that there was something distinguished somewhere in his ancestry. + +"Must be," he once said to young Jolyon, before the latter went to the +bad. "Look at us, we've got on! There must be good blood in us +somewhere." + +He had been fond of young Jolyon: the boy had been in a good set at +College, had known that old ruffian Sir Charles Fiste's sons--a pretty +rascal one of them had turned out, too; and there was style about him--it +was a thousand pities he had run off with that half-foreign governess! +If he must go off like that why couldn't he have chosen someone who would +have done them credit! And what was he now?--an underwriter at Lloyd's; +they said he even painted pictures--pictures! Damme! he might have ended +as Sir Jolyon Forsyte, Bart., with a seat in Parliament, and a place in +the country! + +It was Swithin who, following the impulse which sooner or later urges +thereto some member of every great family, went to the Heralds' Office, +where they assured him that he was undoubtedly of the same family as the +well-known Forsites with an 'i,' whose arms were 'three dexter buckles on +a sable ground gules,' hoping no doubt to get him to take them up. + +Swithin, however, did not do this, but having ascertained that the crest +was a 'pheasant proper,' and the motto 'For Forsite,' he had the pheasant +proper placed upon his carriage and the buttons of his coachman, and both +crest and motto on his writing-paper. The arms he hugged to himself, +partly because, not having paid for them, he thought it would look +ostentatious to put them on his carriage, and he hated ostentation, and +partly because he, like any practical man all over the country, had a +secret dislike and contempt for things he could not understand he found +it hard, as anyone might, to swallow 'three dexter buckles on a sable +ground gules.' + +He never forgot, however, their having told him that if he paid for them +he would be entitled to use them, and it strengthened his conviction that +he was a gentleman. Imperceptibly the rest of the family absorbed the +'pheasant proper,' and some, more serious than others, adopted the motto; +old Jolyon, however, refused to use the latter, saying that it was humbug +meaning nothing, so far as he could see. + +Among the older generation it was perhaps known at bottom from what great +historical event they derived their crest; and if pressed on the subject, +sooner than tell a lie--they did not like telling lies, having an +impression that only Frenchmen and Russians told them--they would confess +hurriedly that Swithin had got hold of it somehow. + +Among the younger generation the matter was wrapped in a discretion +proper. They did not want to hurt the feelings of their elders, nor to +feel ridiculous themselves; they simply used the crest.... + +"No," said Swithin, "he had had an opportunity of seeing for himself, and +what he should say was, that there was nothing in her manner to that +young Buccaneer or Bosinney or whatever his name was, different from her +manner to himself; in fact, he should rather say...." But here the +entrance of Frances and Euphemia put an unfortunate stop to the +conversation, for this was not a subject which could be discussed before +young people. + +And though Swithin was somewhat upset at being stopped like this on the +point of saying something important, he soon recovered his affability. +He was rather fond of Frances--Francie, as she was called in the family. +She was so smart, and they told him she made a pretty little pot of +pin-money by her songs; he called it very clever of her. + +He rather prided himself indeed on a liberal attitude towards women, not +seeing any reason why they shouldn't paint pictures, or write tunes, or +books even, for the matter of that, especially if they could turn a +useful penny by it; not at all--kept them out of mischief. It was not as +if they were men! + +'Little Francie,' as she was usually called with good-natured contempt, +was an important personage, if only as a standing illustration of the +attitude of Forsytes towards the Arts. She was not really 'little,' but +rather tall, with dark hair for a Forsyte, which, together with a grey +eye, gave her what was called 'a Celtic appearance.' She wrote songs with +titles like 'Breathing Sighs,' or 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die,' with a +refrain like an anthem: + + 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die; + Kiss me-kiss me, Mother, ah! + Kiss, ah! kiss me e-ere I-- + Kiss me, Mother, ere I d-d-die!' + +She wrote the words to them herself, and other poems. In lighter moments +she wrote waltzes, one of which, the 'Kensington Coil,' was almost +national to Kensington, having a sweet dip in it. + +It was very original. Then there were her 'Songs for Little People,' at +once educational and witty, especially 'Gran'ma's Porgie,' and that +ditty, almost prophetically imbued with the coming Imperial spirit, +entitled 'Black Him In His Little Eye.' + +Any publisher would take these, and reviews like 'High Living,' and the +'Ladies' Genteel Guide' went into raptures over: 'Another of Miss Francie +Forsyte's spirited ditties, sparkling and pathetic. We ourselves were +moved to tears and laughter. Miss Forsyte should go far.' + +With the true instinct of her breed, Francie had made a point of knowing +the right people--people who would write about her, and talk about her, +and people in Society, too--keeping a mental register of just where to +exert her fascinations, and an eye on that steady scale of rising prices, +which in her mind's eye represented the future. In this way she caused +herself to be universally respected. + +Once, at a time when her emotions were whipped by an attachment--for the +tenor of Roger's life, with its whole-hearted collection of house +property, had induced in his only daughter a tendency towards +passion--she turned to great and sincere work, choosing the sonata form, +for the violin. This was the only one of her productions that troubled +the Forsytes. They felt at once that it would not sell. + +Roger, who liked having a clever daughter well enough, and often alluded +to the amount of pocket-money she made for herself, was upset by this +violin sonata. + +"Rubbish like that!" he called it. Francie had borrowed young +Flageoletti from Euphemia, to play it in the drawing-room at Prince's +Gardens. + +As a matter of fact Roger was right. It was rubbish, but--annoying! the +sort of rubbish that wouldn't sell. As every Forsyte knows, rubbish that +sells is not rubbish at all--far from it. + +And yet, in spite of the sound common sense which fixed the worth of art +at what it would fetch, some of the Forsytes--Aunt Hester, for instance, +who had always been musical--could not help regretting that Francie's +music was not 'classical'; the same with her poems. But then, as Aunt +Hester said, they didn't see any poetry nowadays, all the poems were +'little light things.' + +There was nobody who could write a poem like 'Paradise Lost,' or 'Childe +Harold'; either of which made you feel that you really had read +something. Still, it was nice for Francie to have something to occupy +her; while other girls were spending money shopping she was making it! + +And both Aunt Hester and Aunt Juley were always ready to listen to the +latest story of how Francie had got her price increased. + +They listened now, together with Swithin, who sat pretending not to, for +these young people talked so fast and mumbled so, he never could catch +what they said. + +"And I can't think," said Mrs. Septimus, "how you do it. I should never +have the audacity!" + +Francie smiled lightly. "I'd much rather deal with a man than a woman. +Women are so sharp!" + +"My dear," cried Mrs. Small, "I'm sure we're not." + +Euphemia went off into her silent laugh, and, ending with the squeak, +said, as though being strangled: "Oh, you'll kill me some day, auntie." + +Swithin saw no necessity to laugh; he detested people laughing when he +himself perceived no joke. Indeed, he detested Euphemia altogether, to +whom he always alluded as 'Nick's daughter, what's she called--the pale +one?' He had just missed being her god-father--indeed, would have been, +had he not taken a firm stand against her outlandish name. He hated +becoming a godfather. Swithin then said to Francie with dignity: "It's a +fine day--er--for the time of year." But Euphemia, who knew perfectly +well that he had refused to be her godfather, turned to Aunt Hester, and +began telling her how she had seen Irene--Mrs. Soames--at the Church and +Commercial Stores. + +"And Soames was with her?" said Aunt Hester, to whom Mrs. Small had as +yet had no opportunity of relating the incident. + +"Soames with her? Of course not!" + +"But was she all alone in London?" + +"Oh, no; there was Mr. Bosinney with her. She was perfectly dressed." + +But Swithin, hearing the name Irene, looked severely at Euphemia, who, it +is true, never did look well in a dress, whatever she may have done on +other occasions, and said: + +"Dressed like a lady, I've no doubt. It's a pleasure to see her." + +At this moment James and his daughters were announced. Dartie, feeling +badly in want of a drink, had pleaded an appointment with his dentist, +and, being put down at the Marble Arch, had got into a hansom, and was +already seated in the window of his club in Piccadilly. + +His wife, he told his cronies, had wanted to take him to pay some calls. +It was not in his line--not exactly. Haw! + +Hailing the waiter, he sent him out to the hall to see what had won the +4.30 race. He was dog-tired, he said, and that was a fact; had been +drivin' about with his wife to 'shows' all the afternoon. Had put his +foot down at last. A fellow must live his own life. + +At this moment, glancing out of the bay window--for he loved this seat +whence he could see everybody pass--his eye unfortunately, or perhaps +fortunately, chanced to light on the figure of Soames, who was mousing +across the road from the Green Park-side, with the evident intention of +coming in, for he, too, belonged to 'The Iseeum.' + +Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered something +about 'that 4.30 race,' and swiftly withdrew to the card-room, where +Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation and a dim light, he lived +his own life till half past seven, by which hour he knew Soames must +certainly have left the club. + +It would not do, as he kept repeating to himself whenever he felt the +impulse to join the gossips in the bay-window getting too strong for +him--it absolutely would not do, with finances as low as his, and the +'old man' (James) rusty ever since that business over the oil shares, +which was no fault of his, to risk a row with Winifred. + +If Soames were to see him in the club it would be sure to come round to +her that he wasn't at the dentist's at all. He never knew a family where +things 'came round' so. Uneasily, amongst the green baize card-tables, a +frown on his olive coloured face, his check trousers crossed, and +patent-leather boots shining through the gloom, he sat biting his +forefinger, and wondering where the deuce he was to get the money if +Erotic failed to win the Lancashire Cup. + +His thoughts turned gloomily to the Forsytes. What a set they were! +There was no getting anything out of them--at least, it was a matter of +extreme difficulty. They were so d---d particular about money matters; +not a sportsman amongst the lot, unless it were George. That fellow +Soames, for instance, would have a ft if you tried to borrow a tenner +from him, or, if he didn't have a fit, he looked at you with his cursed +supercilious smile, as if you were a lost soul because you were in want +of money. + +And that wife of his (Dartie's mouth watered involuntarily), he had tried +to be on good terms with her, as one naturally would with any pretty +sister-in-law, but he would be cursed if the (he mentally used a coarse +word)--would have anything to say to him--she looked at him, indeed, as +if he were dirt--and yet she could go far enough, he wouldn't mind +betting. He knew women; they weren't made with soft eyes and figures +like that for nothing, as that fellow Soames would jolly soon find out, +if there were anything in what he had heard about this Buccaneer Johnny. + +Rising from his chair, Dartie took a turn across the room, ending in +front of the looking-glass over the marble chimney-piece; and there he +stood for a long time contemplating in the glass the reflection of his +face. It had that look, peculiar to some men, of having been steeped in +linseed oil, with its waxed dark moustaches and the little distinguished +commencements of side whiskers; and concernedly he felt the promise of a +pimple on the side of his slightly curved and fattish nose. + +In the meantime old Jolyon had found the remaining chair in Timothy's +commodious drawing-room. His advent had obviously put a stop to the +conversation, decided awkwardness having set in. Aunt Juley, with her +well-known kindheartedness, hastened to set people at their ease again. + +"Yes, Jolyon," she said, "we were just saying that you haven't been here +for a long time; but we mustn't be surprised. You're busy, of course? +James was just saying what a busy time of year...." + +"Was he?" said old Jolyon, looking hard at James. "It wouldn't be half +so busy if everybody minded their own business." + +James, brooding in a small chair from which his knees ran uphill, shifted +his feet uneasily, and put one of them down on the cat, which had +unwisely taken refuge from old Jolyon beside him. + +"Here, you've got a cat here," he said in an injured voice, withdrawing +his foot nervously as he felt it squeezing into the soft, furry body. + +"Several," said old Jolyon, looking at one face and another; "I trod on +one just now." + +A silence followed. + +Then Mrs. Small, twisting her fingers and gazing round with 'pathetic +calm', asked: "And how is dear June?" + +A twinkle of humour shot through the sternness of old Jolyon's eyes. +Extraordinary old woman, Juley! No one quite like her for saying the +wrong thing! + +"Bad!" he said; "London don't agree with her--too many people about, too +much clatter and chatter by half." He laid emphasis on the words, and +again looked James in the face. + +Nobody spoke. + +A feeling of its being too dangerous to take a step in any direction, or +hazard any remark, had fallen on them all. Something of the sense of the +impending, that comes over the spectator of a Greek tragedy, had entered +that upholstered room, filled with those white-haired, frock-coated old +men, and fashionably attired women, who were all of the same blood, +between all of whom existed an unseizable resemblance. + +Not that they were conscious of it--the visits of such fateful, bitter +spirits are only felt. + +Then Swithin rose. He would not sit there, feeling like that--he was not +to be put down by anyone! And, manoeuvring round the room with added +pomp, he shook hands with each separately. + +"You tell Timothy from me," he said, "that he coddles himself too much!" +Then, turning to Francie, whom he considered 'smart,' he added: "You come +with me for a drive one of these days." But this conjured up the vision +of that other eventful drive which had been so much talked about, and he +stood quite still for a second, with glassy eyes, as though waiting to +catch up with the significance of what he himself had said; then, +suddenly recollecting that he didn't care a damn, he turned to old +Jolyon: "Well, good-bye, Jolyon! You shouldn't go about without an +overcoat; you'll be getting sciatica or something!" And, kicking the cat +slightly with the pointed tip of his patent leather boot, he took his +huge form away. + +When he had gone everyone looked secretly at the others, to see how they +had taken the mention of the word 'drive'--the word which had become +famous, and acquired an overwhelming importance, as the only official--so +to speak--news in connection with the vague and sinister rumour clinging +to the family tongue. + +Euphemia, yielding to an impulse, said with a short laugh: "I'm glad +Uncle Swithin doesn't ask me to go for drives." + +Mrs. Small, to reassure her and smooth over any little awkwardness the +subject might have, replied: "My dear, he likes to take somebody well +dressed, who will do him a little credit. I shall never forget the drive +he took me. It was an experience!" And her chubby round old face was +spread for a moment with a strange contentment; then broke into pouts, +and tears came into her eyes. She was thinking of that long ago driving +tour she had once taken with Septimus Small. + +James, who had relapsed into his nervous brooding in the little chair, +suddenly roused himself: "He's a funny fellow, Swithin," he said, but in +a half-hearted way. + +Old Jolyon's silence, his stern eyes, held them all in a kind of +paralysis. He was disconcerted himself by the effect of his own +words--an effect which seemed to deepen the importance of the very rumour +he had come to scotch; but he was still angry. + +He had not done with them yet--No, no--he would give them another rub or +two. + +He did not wish to rub his nieces, he had no quarrel with them--a young +and presentable female always appealed to old Jolyon's clemency--but that +fellow James, and, in a less degree perhaps, those others, deserved all +they would get. And he, too, asked for Timothy. + +As though feeling that some danger threatened her younger brother, Aunt +Juley suddenly offered him tea: "There it is," she said, "all cold and +nasty, waiting for you in the back drawing room, but Smither shall make +you some fresh." + +Old Jolyon rose: "Thank you," he said, looking straight at James, "but +I've no time for tea, and--scandal, and the rest of it! It's time I was +at home. Good-bye, Julia; good-bye, Hester; good-bye, Winifred." + +Without more ceremonious adieux, he marched out. + +Once again in his cab, his anger evaporated, for so it ever was with his +wrath--when he had rapped out, it was gone. Sadness came over his +spirit. He had stopped their mouths, maybe, but at what a cost! At the +cost of certain knowledge that the rumour he had been resolved not to +believe was true. June was abandoned, and for the wife of that fellow's +son! He felt it was true, and hardened himself to treat it as if it were +not; but the pain he hid beneath this resolution began slowly, surely, to +vent itself in a blind resentment against James and his son. + +The six women and one man left behind in the little drawing-room began +talking as easily as might be after such an occurrence, for though each +one of them knew for a fact that he or she never talked scandal, each one +of them also knew that the other six did; all were therefore angry and at +a loss. James only was silent, disturbed, to the bottom of his soul. + +Presently Francie said: "Do you know, I think Uncle Jolyon is terribly +changed this last year. What do you think, Aunt Hester?" + +Aunt Hester made a little movement of recoil: "Oh, ask your Aunt Julia!" +she said; "I know nothing about it." + +No one else was afraid of assenting, and James muttered gloomily at the +floor: "He's not half the man he was." + +"I've noticed it a long time," went on Francie; "he's aged tremendously." + +Aunt Juley shook her head; her face seemed suddenly to have become one +immense pout. + +"Poor dear Jolyon," she said, "somebody ought to see to it for him!" + +There was again silence; then, as though in terror of being left +solitarily behind, all five visitors rose simultaneously, and took their +departure. + +Mrs. Small, Aunt Hester, and their cat were left once more alone, the +sound of a door closing in the distance announced the approach of +Timothy. + +That evening, when Aunt Hester had just got off to sleep in the back +bedroom that used to be Aunt Juley's before Aunt Juley took Aunt Ann's, +her door was opened, and Mrs. Small, in a pink night-cap, a candle in her +hand, entered: "Hester!" she said. "Hester!" + +Aunt Hester faintly rustled the sheet. + +"Hester," repeated Aunt Juley, to make quite sure that she had awakened +her, "I am quite troubled about poor dear Jolyon. What," Aunt Juley dwelt +on the word, "do you think ought to be done?" + +Aunt Hester again rustled the sheet, her voice was heard faintly +pleading: "Done? How should I know?" + +Aunt Juley turned away satisfied, and closing the door with extra +gentleness so as not to disturb dear Hester, let it slip through her +fingers and fall to with a 'crack.' + +Back in her own room, she stood at the window gazing at the moon over the +trees in the Park, through a chink in the muslin curtains, close drawn +lest anyone should see. And there, with her face all round and pouting +in its pink cap, and her eyes wet, she thought of 'dear Jolyon,' so old +and so lonely, and how she could be of some use to him; and how he would +come to love her, as she had never been loved since--since poor Septimus +went away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DANCE AT ROGER'S + +Roger's house in Prince's Gardens was brilliantly alight. Large numbers +of wax candles had been collected and placed in cut-glass chandeliers, +and the parquet floor of the long, double drawing-room reflected these +constellations. An appearance of real spaciousness had been secured by +moving out all the furniture on to the upper landings, and enclosing the +room with those strange appendages of civilization known as 'rout' seats. +In a remote corner, embowered in palms, was a cottage piano, with a copy +of the 'Kensington Coil' open on the music-stand. + +Roger had objected to a band. He didn't see in the least what they +wanted with a band; he wouldn't go to the expense, and there was an end +of it. Francie (her mother, whom Roger had long since reduced to chronic +dyspepsia, went to bed on such occasions), had been obliged to content +herself with supplementing the piano by a young man who played the +cornet, and she so arranged with palms that anyone who did not look into +the heart of things might imagine there were several musicians secreted +there. She made up her mind to tell them to play loud--there was a lot +of music in a cornet, if the man would only put his soul into it. + +In the more cultivated American tongue, she was 'through' at +last--through that tortuous labyrinth of make-shifts, which must be +traversed before fashionable display can be combined with the sound +economy of a Forsyte. Thin but brilliant, in her maize-coloured frock +with much tulle about the shoulders, she went from place to place, +fitting on her gloves, and casting her eye over it all. + +To the hired butler (for Roger only kept maids) she spoke about the wine. +Did he quite understand that Mr. Forsyte wished a dozen bottles of the +champagne from Whiteley's to be put out? But if that were finished (she +did not suppose it would be, most of the ladies would drink water, no +doubt), but if it were, there was the champagne cup, and he must do the +best he could with that. + +She hated having to say this sort of thing to a butler, it was so infra +dig.; but what could you do with father? Roger, indeed, after making +himself consistently disagreeable about the dance, would come down +presently, with his fresh colour and bumpy forehead, as though he had +been its promoter; and he would smile, and probably take the prettiest +woman in to supper; and at two o'clock, just as they were getting into +the swing, he would go up secretly to the musicians and tell them to play +'God Save the Queen,' and go away. + +Francie devoutly hoped he might soon get tired, and slip off to bed. + +The three or four devoted girl friends who were staying in the house for +this dance had partaken with her, in a small, abandoned room upstairs, of +tea and cold chicken-legs, hurriedly served; the men had been sent out to +dine at Eustace's Club, it being felt that they must be fed up. + +Punctually on the stroke of nine arrived Mrs. Small alone. She made +elaborate apologies for the absence of Timothy, omitting all mention of +Aunt Hester, who, at the last minute, had said she could not be bothered. +Francie received her effusively, and placed her on a rout seat, where she +left her, pouting and solitary in lavender-coloured satin--the first time +she had worn colour since Aunt Ann's death. + +The devoted maiden friends came now from their rooms, each by magic +arrangement in a differently coloured frock, but all with the same +liberal allowance of tulle on the shoulders and at the bosom--for they +were, by some fatality, lean to a girl. They were all taken up to Mrs. +Small. None stayed with her more than a few seconds, but clustering +together talked and twisted their programmes, looking secretly at the +door for the first appearance of a man. + +Then arrived in a group a number of Nicholases, always punctual--the +fashion up Ladbroke Grove way; and close behind them Eustace and his men, +gloomy and smelling rather of smoke. + +Three or four of Francie's lovers now appeared, one after the other; she +had made each promise to come early. They were all clean-shaven and +sprightly, with that peculiar kind of young-man sprightliness which had +recently invaded Kensington; they did not seem to mind each other's +presence in the least, and wore their ties bunching out at the ends, +white waistcoats, and socks with clocks. All had handkerchiefs concealed +in their cuffs. They moved buoyantly, each armoured in professional +gaiety, as though he had come to do great deeds. Their faces when they +danced, far from wearing the traditional solemn look of the dancing +Englishman, were irresponsible, charming, suave; they bounded, twirling +their partners at great pace, without pedantic attention to the rhythm of +the music. + +At other dancers they looked with a kind of airy scorn--they, the light +brigade, the heroes of a hundred Kensington 'hops'--from whom alone could +the right manner and smile and step be hoped. + +After this the stream came fast; chaperones silting up along the wall +facing the entrance, the volatile element swelling the eddy in the larger +room. + +Men were scarce, and wallflowers wore their peculiar, pathetic +expression, a patient, sourish smile which seemed to say: "Oh, no! don't +mistake me, I know you are not coming up to me. I can hardly expect +that!" And Francie would plead with one of her lovers, or with some +callow youth: "Now, to please me, do let me introduce you to Miss Pink; +such a nice girl, really!" and she would bring him up, and say: "Miss +Pink--Mr. Gathercole. Can you spare him a dance?" Then Miss Pink, +smiling her forced smile, colouring a little, answered: "Oh! I think so!" +and screening her empty card, wrote on it the name of Gathercole, +spelling it passionately in the district that he proposed, about the +second extra. + +But when the youth had murmured that it was hot, and passed, she relapsed +into her attitude of hopeless expectation, into her patient, sourish +smile. + +Mothers, slowly fanning their faces, watched their daughters, and in +their eyes could be read all the story of those daughters' fortunes. As +for themselves, to sit hour after hour, dead tired, silent, or talking +spasmodically--what did it matter, so long as the girls were having a +good time! But to see them neglected and passed by! Ah! they smiled, +but their eyes stabbed like the eyes of an offended swan; they longed to +pluck young Gathercole by the slack of his dandified breeches, and drag +him to their daughters--the jackanapes! + +And all the cruelties and hardness of life, its pathos and unequal +chances, its conceit, self-forgetfulness, and patience, were presented on +the battle-field of this Kensington ball-room. + +Here and there, too, lovers--not lovers like Francie's, a peculiar breed, +but simply lovers--trembling, blushing, silent, sought each other by +flying glances, sought to meet and touch in the mazes of the dance, and +now and again dancing together, struck some beholder by the light in +their eyes. + +Not a second before ten o'clock came the Jameses--Emily, Rachel, Winifred +(Dartie had been left behind, having on a former occasion drunk too much +of Roger's champagne), and Cicely, the youngest, making her debut; behind +them, following in a hansom from the paternal mansion where they had +dined, Soames and Irene. + +All these ladies had shoulder-straps and no tulle--thus showing at once, +by a bolder exposure of flesh, that they came from the more fashionable +side of the Park. + +Soames, sidling back from the contact of the dancers, took up a position +against the wall. Guarding himself with his pale smile, he stood +watching. Waltz after waltz began and ended, couple after couple brushed +by with smiling lips, laughter, and snatches of talk; or with set lips, +and eyes searching the throng; or again, with silent, parted lips, and +eyes on each other. And the scent of festivity, the odour of flowers, +and hair, of essences that women love, rose suffocatingly in the heat of +the summer night. + +Silent, with something of scorn in his smile, Soames seemed to notice +nothing; but now and again his eyes, finding that which they sought, +would fix themselves on a point in the shifting throng, and the smile die +off his lips. + +He danced with no one. Some fellows danced with their wives; his sense +of 'form' had never permitted him to dance with Irene since their +marriage, and the God of the Forsytes alone can tell whether this was a +relief to him or not. + +She passed, dancing with other men, her dress, iris-coloured, floating +away from her feet. She danced well; he was tired of hearing women say +with an acid smile: "How beautifully your wife dances, Mr. Forsyte--it's +quite a pleasure to watch her!" Tired of answering them with his +sidelong glance: "You think so?" + +A young couple close by flirted a fan by turns, making an unpleasant +draught. Francie and one of her lovers stood near. They were talking of +love. + +He heard Roger's voice behind, giving an order about supper to a servant. +Everything was very second-class! He wished that he had not come! He +had asked Irene whether she wanted him; she had answered with that +maddening smile of hers "Oh, no!" + +Why had he come? For the last quarter of an hour he had not even seen +her. Here was George advancing with his Quilpish face; it was too late +to get out of his way. + +"Have you seen 'The Buccaneer'?" said this licensed wag; "he's on the +warpath--hair cut and everything!" + +Soames said he had not, and crossing the room, half-empty in an interval +of the dance, he went out on the balcony, and looked down into the +street. + +A carriage had driven up with late arrivals, and round the door hung some +of those patient watchers of the London streets who spring up to the call +of light or music; their faces, pale and upturned above their black and +rusty figures, had an air of stolid watching that annoyed Soames. Why +were they allowed to hang about; why didn't the bobby move them on? + +But the policeman took no notice of them; his feet were planted apart on +the strip of crimson carpet stretched across the pavement; his face, +under the helmet, wore the same stolid, watching look as theirs. + +Across the road, through the railings, Soames could see the branches of +trees shining, faintly stirring in the breeze, by the gleam of the street +lamps; beyond, again, the upper lights of the houses on the other side, +so many eyes looking down on the quiet blackness of the garden; and over +all, the sky, that wonderful London sky, dusted with the innumerable +reflection of countless lamps; a dome woven over between its stars with +the refraction of human needs and human fancies--immense mirror of pomp +and misery that night after night stretches its kindly mocking over miles +of houses and gardens, mansions and squalor, over Forsytes, policemen, +and patient watchers in the streets. + +Soames turned away, and, hidden in the recess, gazed into the lighted +room. It was cooler out there. He saw the new arrivals, June and her +grandfather, enter. What had made them so late? They stood by the +doorway. They looked fagged. Fancy Uncle Jolyon turning out at this +time of night! Why hadn't June come to Irene, as she usually did, and it +occurred to him suddenly that he had seen nothing of June for a long time +now. + +Watching her face with idle malice, he saw it change, grow so pale that +he thought she would drop, then flame out crimson. Turning to see at what +she was looking, he saw his wife on Bosinney's arm, coming from the +conservatory at the end of the room. Her eyes were raised to his, as +though answering some question he had asked, and he was gazing at her +intently. + +Soames looked again at June. Her hand rested on old Jolyon's arm; she +seemed to be making a request. He saw a surprised look on his uncle's +face; they turned and passed through the door out of his sight. + +The music began again--a waltz--and, still as a statue in the recess of +the window, his face unmoved, but no smile on his lips, Soames waited. +Presently, within a yard of the dark balcony, his wife and Bosinney +passed. He caught the perfume of the gardenias that she wore, saw the +rise and fall of her bosom, the languor in her eyes, her parted lips, and +a look on her face that he did not know. To the slow, swinging measure +they danced by, and it seemed to him that they clung to each other; he +saw her raise her eyes, soft and dark, to Bosinney's, and drop them +again. + +Very white, he turned back to the balcony, and leaning on it, gazed down +on the Square; the figures were still there looking up at the light with +dull persistency, the policeman's face, too, upturned, and staring, but +he saw nothing of them. Below, a carriage drew up, two figures got in, +and drove away.... + +That evening June and old Jolyon sat down to dinner at the usual hour. +The girl was in her customary high-necked frock, old Jolyon had not +dressed. + +At breakfast she had spoken of the dance at Uncle Roger's, she wanted to +go; she had been stupid enough, she said, not to think of asking anyone +to take her. It was too late now. + +Old Jolyon lifted his keen eyes. June was used to go to dances with +Irene as a matter of course! and deliberately fixing his gaze on her, he +asked: "Why don't you get Irene?" + +No! June did not want to ask Irene; she would only go if--if her +grandfather wouldn't mind just for once for a little time! + +At her look, so eager and so worn, old Jolyon had grumblingly consented. +He did not know what she wanted, he said, with going to a dance like +this, a poor affair, he would wager; and she no more fit for it than a +cat! What she wanted was sea air, and after his general meeting of the +Globular Gold Concessions he was ready to take her. She didn't want to +go away? Ah! she would knock herself up! Stealing a mournful look at +her, he went on with his breakfast. + +June went out early, and wandered restlessly about in the heat. Her +little light figure that lately had moved so languidly about its +business, was all on fire. She bought herself some flowers. She +wanted--she meant to look her best. He would be there! She knew well +enough that he had a card. She would show him that she did not care. +But deep down in her heart she resolved that evening to win him back. +She came in flushed, and talked brightly all lunch; old Jolyon was there, +and he was deceived. + +In the afternoon she was overtaken by a desperate fit of sobbing. She +strangled the noise against the pillows of her bed, but when at last it +ceased she saw in the glass a swollen face with reddened eyes, and violet +circles round them. She stayed in the darkened room till dinner time. + +All through that silent meal the struggle went on within her. + +She looked so shadowy and exhausted that old Jolyon told 'Sankey' to +countermand the carriage, he would not have her going out.... She was to +go to bed! She made no resistance. She went up to her room, and sat in +the dark. At ten o'clock she rang for her maid. + +"Bring some hot water, and go down and tell Mr. Forsyte that I feel +perfectly rested. Say that if he's too tired I can go to the dance by +myself." + +The maid looked askance, and June turned on her imperiously. "Go," she +said, "bring the hot water at once!" + +Her ball-dress still lay on the sofa, and with a sort of fierce care she +arrayed herself, took the flowers in her hand, and went down, her small +face carried high under its burden of hair. She could hear old Jolyon in +his room as she passed. + +Bewildered and vexed, he was dressing. It was past ten, they would not +get there till eleven; the girl was mad. But he dared not cross her--the +expression of her face at dinner haunted him. + +With great ebony brushes he smoothed his hair till it shone like silver +under the light; then he, too, came out on the gloomy staircase. + +June met him below, and, without a word, they went to the carriage. + +When, after that drive which seemed to last for ever, she entered Roger's +drawing-room, she disguised under a mask of resolution a very torment of +nervousness and emotion. The feeling of shame at what might be called +'running after him' was smothered by the dread that he might not be +there, that she might not see him after all, and by that dogged +resolve--somehow, she did not know how--to win him back. + +The sight of the ballroom, with its gleaming floor, gave her a feeling of +joy, of triumph, for she loved dancing, and when dancing she floated, so +light was she, like a strenuous, eager little spirit. He would surely +ask her to dance, and if he danced with her it would all be as it was +before. She looked about her eagerly. + +The sight of Bosinney coming with Irene from the conservatory, with that +strange look of utter absorption on his face, struck her too suddenly. +They had not seen--no one should see--her distress, not even her +grandfather. + +She put her hand on Jolyon's arm, and said very low: + +"I must go home, Gran; I feel ill." + +He hurried her away, grumbling to himself that he had known how it would +be. + +To her he said nothing; only when they were once more in the carriage, +which by some fortunate chance had lingered near the door, he asked her: +"What is it, my darling?" + +Feeling her whole slender body shaken by sobs, he was terribly alarmed. +She must have Blank to-morrow. He would insist upon it. He could not +have her like this.... There, there! + +June mastered her sobs, and squeezing his hand feverishly, she lay back +in her corner, her face muffled in a shawl. + +He could only see her eyes, fixed and staring in the dark, but he did not +cease to stroke her hand with his thin fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVENING AT RICHMOND + +Other eyes besides the eyes of June and of Soames had seen 'those two' +(as Euphemia had already begun to call them) coming from the +conservatory; other eyes had noticed the look on Bosinney's face. + +There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath the +careless calm of her ordinary moods--violent spring flashing white on +almond-blossom through the purple clouds; a snowy, moonlit peak, with its +single star, soaring up to the passionate blue; or against the flames of +sunset, an old yew-tree standing dark guardian of some fiery secret. + +There are moments, too, when in a picture-gallery, a work, noted by the +casual spectator as '......Titian--remarkably fine,' breaks through the +defences of some Forsyte better lunched perhaps than his fellows, and +holds him spellbound in a kind of ecstasy. There are things, he +feels--there are things here which--well, which are things. Something +unreasoning, unreasonable, is upon him; when he tries to define it with +the precision of a practical man, it eludes him, slips away, as the glow +of the wine he has drunk is slipping away, leaving him cross, and +conscious of his liver. He feels that he has been extravagant, prodigal +of something; virtue has gone out of him. He did not desire this glimpse +of what lay under the three stars of his catalogue. God forbid that he +should know anything about the forces of Nature! God forbid that he +should admit for a moment that there are such things! Once admit that, +and where was he? One paid a shilling for entrance, and another for the +programme. + +The look which June had seen, which other Forsytes had seen, was like the +sudden flashing of a candle through a hole in some imaginary canvas, +behind which it was being moved--the sudden flaming-out of a vague, +erratic glow, shadowy and enticing. It brought home to onlookers the +consciousness that dangerous forces were at work. For a moment they +noticed it with pleasure, with interest, then felt they must not notice +it at all. + +It supplied, however, the reason of June's coming so late and +disappearing again without dancing, without even shaking hands with her +lover. She was ill, it was said, and no wonder. + +But here they looked at each other guiltily. They had no desire to +spread scandal, no desire to be ill-natured. Who would have? And to +outsiders no word was breathed, unwritten law keeping them silent. + +Then came the news that June had gone to the seaside with old Jolyon. + +He had carried her off to Broadstairs, for which place there was just +then a feeling, Yarmouth having lost caste, in spite of Nicholas, and no +Forsyte going to the sea without intending to have an air for his money +such as would render him bilious in a week. That fatally aristocratic +tendency of the first Forsyte to drink Madeira had left his descendants +undoubtedly accessible. + +So June went to the sea. The family awaited developments; there was +nothing else to do. + +But how far--how far had 'those two' gone? How far were they going to +go? Could they really be going at all? Nothing could surely come of it, +for neither of them had any money. At the most a flirtation, ending, as +all such attachments should, at the proper time. + +Soames' sister, Winifred Dartie, who had imbibed with the breezes of +Mayfair--she lived in Green Street--more fashionable principles in regard +to matrimonial behaviour than were current, for instance, in Ladbroke +Grove, laughed at the idea of there being anything in it. The 'little +thing'--Irene was taller than herself, and it was real testimony to the +solid worth of a Forsyte that she should always thus be a 'little +thing'--the little thing was bored. Why shouldn't she amuse herself? +Soames was rather tiring; and as to Mr. Bosinney--only that buffoon +George would have called him the Buccaneer--she maintained that he was +very chic. + +This dictum--that Bosinney was chic--caused quit a sensation. It failed +to convince. That he was 'good-looking in a way' they were prepared to +admit, but that anyone could call a man with his pronounced cheekbones, +curious eyes, and soft felt hats chic was only another instance of +Winifred's extravagant way of running after something new. + +It was that famous summer when extravagance was fashionable, when the +very earth was extravagant, chestnut-trees spread with blossom, and +flowers drenched in perfume, as they had never been before; when roses +blew in every garden; and for the swarming stars the nights had hardly +space; when every day and all day long the sun, in full armour, swung his +brazen shield above the Park, and people did strange things, lunching and +dining in the open air. Unprecedented was the tale of cabs and carriages +that streamed across the bridges of the shining river, bearing the +upper-middle class in thousands to the green glories of Bushey, Richmond, +Kew, and Hampton Court. Almost every family with any pretensions to be +of the carriage-class paid one visit that year to the horse-chestnuts at +Bushey, or took one drive amongst the Spanish chestnuts of Richmond Park. +Bowling smoothly, if dustily, along, in a cloud of their own creation, +they would stare fashionably at the antlered heads which the great slow +deer raised out of a forest of bracken that promised to autumn lovers +such cover as was never seen before. And now and again, as the amorous +perfume of chestnut flowers and of fern was drifted too near, one would +say to the other: "My dear! What a peculiar scent!" + +And the lime-flowers that year were of rare prime, near honey-coloured. +At the corners of London squares they gave out, as the sun went down, a +perfume sweeter than the honey bees had taken--a perfume that stirred a +yearning unnamable in the hearts of Forsytes and their peers, taking the +cool after dinner in the precincts of those gardens to which they alone +had keys. + +And that yearning made them linger amidst the dim shapes of flower-beds +in the failing daylight, made them turn, and turn, and turn again, as +though lovers were waiting for them--waiting for the last light to die +away under the shadow of the branches. + +Some vague sympathy evoked by the scent of the limes, some sisterly +desire to see for herself, some idea of demonstrating the soundness of +her dictum that there was 'nothing in it'; or merely the craving to drive +down to Richmond, irresistible that summer, moved the mother of the +little Darties (of little Publius, of Imogen, Maud, and Benedict) to +write the following note to her sister-in-law: + +'DEAR IRENE, 'June 30. + +'I hear that Soames is going to Henley tomorrow for the night. I thought +it would be great fun if we made up a little party and drove down to, +Richmond. Will you ask Mr. Bosinney, and I will get young Flippard. + +'Emily (they called their mother Emily--it was so chic) will lend us the +carriage. I will call for you and your young man at seven o'clock. + +'Your affectionate sister, +'WINIFRED DARTIE. + +'Montague believes the dinner at the Crown and Sceptre to be quite +eatable.' + +Montague was Dartie's second and better known name--his first being +Moses; for he was nothing if not a man of the world. + +Her plan met with more opposition from Providence than so benevolent a +scheme deserved. In the first place young Flippard wrote: + +'DEAR Mrs. DARTIE, + +'Awfully sorry. Engaged two deep. + +'Yours, +'AUGUSTUS FLIPPARD.' + +It was late to send into the by-ways and hedges to remedy this +misfortune. With the promptitude and conduct of a mother, Winifred fell +back on her husband. She had, indeed, the decided but tolerant +temperament that goes with a good deal of profile, fair hair, and +greenish eyes. She was seldom or never at a loss; or if at a loss, was +always able to convert it into a gain. + +Dartie, too, was in good feather. Erotic had failed to win the +Lancashire Cup. Indeed, that celebrated animal, owned as he was by a +pillar of the turf, who had secretly laid many thousands against him, had +not even started. The forty-eight hours that followed his scratching +were among the darkest in Dartie's life. + +Visions of James haunted him day and night. Black thoughts about Soames +mingled with the faintest hopes. On the Friday night he got drunk, so +greatly was he affected. But on Saturday morning the true Stock Exchange +instinct triumphed within him. Owing some hundreds, which by no +possibility could he pay, he went into town and put them all on +Concertina for the Saltown Borough Handicap. + +As he said to Major Scrotton, with whom he lunched at the Iseeum: "That +little Jew boy, Nathans, had given him the tip. He didn't care a cursh. +He wash in--a mucker. If it didn't come up--well then, damme, the old +man would have to pay!" + +A bottle of Pol Roger to his own cheek had given him a new contempt for +James. + +It came up. Concertina was squeezed home by her neck--a terrible squeak! +But, as Dartie said: There was nothing like pluck! + +He was by no means averse to the expedition to Richmond. He would +'stand' it himself! He cherished an admiration for Irene, and wished to +be on more playful terms with her. + +At half-past five the Park Lane footman came round to say: Mrs. Forsyte +was very sorry, but one of the horses was coughing! + +Undaunted by this further blow, Winifred at once despatched little +Publius (now aged seven) with the nursery governess to Montpellier +Square. + +They would go down in hansoms and meet at the Crown and Sceptre at 7.45. + +Dartie, on being told, was pleased enough. It was better than going down +with your back to the horses! He had no objection to driving down with +Irene. He supposed they would pick up the others at Montpellier Square, +and swop hansoms there? + +Informed that the meet was at the Crown and Sceptre, and that he would +have to drive with his wife, he turned sulky, and said it was d---d slow! + +At seven o'clock they started, Dartie offering to bet the driver +half-a-crown he didn't do it in the three-quarters of an hour. + +Twice only did husband and wife exchange remarks on the way. + +Dartie said: "It'll put Master Soames's nose out of joint to hear his +wife's been drivin' in a hansom with Master Bosinney!" + +Winifred replied: "Don't talk such nonsense, Monty!" + +"Nonsense!" repeated Dartie. "You don't know women, my fine lady!" + +On the other occasion he merely asked: "How am I looking? A bit puffy +about the gills? That fizz old George is so fond of is a windy wine!" + +He had been lunching with George Forsyte at the Haversnake. + +Bosinney and Irene had arrived before them. They were standing in one of +the long French windows overlooking the river. + +Windows that summer were open all day long, and all night too, and day +and night the scents of flowers and trees came in, the hot scent of +parching grass, and the cool scent of the heavy dews. + +To the eye of the observant Dartie his two guests did not appear to be +making much running, standing there close together, without a word. +Bosinney was a hungry-looking creature--not much go about him. + +He left them to Winifred, however, and busied himself to order the +dinner. + +A Forsyte will require good, if not delicate feeding, but a Dartie will +tax the resources of a Crown and Sceptre. Living as he does, from hand +to mouth, nothing is too good for him to eat; and he will eat it. His +drink, too, will need to be carefully provided; there is much drink in +this country 'not good enough' for a Dartie; he will have the best. +Paying for things vicariously, there is no reason why he should stint +himself. To stint yourself is the mark of a fool, not of a Dartie. + +The best of everything! No sounder principle on which a man can base his +life, whose father-in-law has a very considerable income, and a +partiality for his grandchildren. + +With his not unable eye Dartie had spotted this weakness in James the +very first year after little Publius's arrival (an error); he had +profited by his perspicacity. Four little Darties were now a sort of +perpetual insurance. + +The feature of the feast was unquestionably the red mullet. This +delectable fish, brought from a considerable distance in a state of +almost perfect preservation, was first fried, then boned, then served in +ice, with Madeira punch in place of sauce, according to a recipe known to +a few men of the world. + +Nothing else calls for remark except the payment of the bill by Dartie. + +He had made himself extremely agreeable throughout the meal; his bold, +admiring stare seldom abandoning Irene's face and figure. As he was +obliged to confess to himself, he got no change out of her--she was cool +enough, as cool as her shoulders looked under their veil of creamy lace. +He expected to have caught her out in some little game with Bosinney; but +not a bit of it, she kept up her end remarkably well. As for that +architect chap, he was as glum as a bear with a sore head--Winifred could +barely get a word out of him; he ate nothing, but he certainly took his +liquor, and his face kept getting whiter, and his eyes looked queer. + +It was all very amusing. + +For Dartie himself was in capital form, and talked freely, with a certain +poignancy, being no fool. He told two or three stories verging on the +improper, a concession to the company, for his stories were not used to +verging. He proposed Irene's health in a mock speech. Nobody drank it, +and Winifred said: "Don't be such a clown, Monty!" + +At her suggestion they went after dinner to the public terrace +overlooking the river. + +"I should like to see the common people making love," she said, "it's +such fun!" + +There were numbers of them walking in the cool, after the day's heat, and +the air was alive with the sound of voices, coarse and loud, or soft as +though murmuring secrets. + +It was not long before Winifred's better sense--she was the only Forsyte +present--secured them an empty bench. They sat down in a row. A heavy +tree spread a thick canopy above their heads, and the haze darkened +slowly over the river. + +Dartie sat at the end, next to him Irene, then Bosinney, then Winifred. +There was hardly room for four, and the man of the world could feel +Irene's arm crushed against his own; he knew that she could not withdraw +it without seeming rude, and this amused him; he devised every now and +again a movement that would bring her closer still. He thought: 'That +Buccaneer Johnny shan't have it all to himself! It's a pretty tight fit, +certainly!' + +From far down below on the dark river came drifting the tinkle of a +mandoline, and voices singing the old round: + +'A boat, a boat, unto the ferry, For we'll go over and be merry; And +laugh, and quaff, and drink brown sherry!' + +And suddenly the moon appeared, young and tender, floating up on her back +from behind a tree; and as though she had breathed, the air was cooler, +but down that cooler air came always the warm odour of the limes. + +Over his cigar Dartie peered round at Bosinney, who was sitting with his +arms crossed, staring straight in front of him, and on his face the look +of a man being tortured. + +And Dartie shot a glance at the face between, so veiled by the +overhanging shadow that it was but like a darker piece of the darkness +shaped and breathed on; soft, mysterious, enticing. + +A hush had fallen on the noisy terrace, as if all the strollers were +thinking secrets too precious to be spoken. + +And Dartie thought: 'Women!' + +The glow died above the river, the singing ceased; the young moon hid +behind a tree, and all was dark. He pressed himself against Irene. + +He was not alarmed at the shuddering that ran through the limbs he +touched, or at the troubled, scornful look of her eyes. He felt her +trying to draw herself away, and smiled. + +It must be confessed that the man of the world had drunk quite as much as +was good for him. + +With thick lips parted under his well-curled moustaches, and his bold +eyes aslant upon her, he had the malicious look of a satyr. + +Along the pathway of sky between the hedges of the tree tops the stars +clustered forth; like mortals beneath, they seemed to shift and swarm and +whisper. Then on the terrace the buzz broke out once more, and Dartie +thought: 'Ah! he's a poor, hungry-looking devil, that Bosinney!' and +again he pressed himself against Irene. + +The movement deserved a better success. She rose, and they all followed +her. + +The man of the world was more than ever determined to see what she was +made of. Along the terrace he kept close at her elbow. He had within him +much good wine. There was the long drive home, the long drive and the +warm dark and the pleasant closeness of the hansom cab--with its +insulation from the world devised by some great and good man. That +hungry architect chap might drive with his wife--he wished him joy of +her! And, conscious that his voice was not too steady, he was careful +not to speak; but a smile had become fixed on his thick lips. + +They strolled along toward the cabs awaiting them at the farther end. +His plan had the merit of all great plans, an almost brutal simplicity he +would merely keep at her elbow till she got in, and get in quickly after +her. + +But when Irene reached the cab she did not get in; she slipped, instead, +to the horse's head. Dartie was not at the moment sufficiently master of +his legs to follow. She stood stroking the horse's nose, and, to his +annoyance, Bosinney was at her side first. She turned and spoke to him +rapidly, in a low voice; the words 'That man' reached Dartie. He stood +stubbornly by the cab step, waiting for her to come back. He knew a +trick worth two of that! + +Here, in the lamp-light, his figure (no more than medium height), well +squared in its white evening waistcoat, his light overcoat flung over his +arm, a pink flower in his button-hole, and on his dark face that look of +confident, good-humoured insolence, he was at his best--a thorough man of +the world. + +Winifred was already in her cab. Dartie reflected that Bosinney would +have a poorish time in that cab if he didn't look sharp! Suddenly he +received a push which nearly overturned him in the road. Bosinney's +voice hissed in his ear: "I am taking Irene back; do you understand?" He +saw a face white with passion, and eyes that glared at him like a wild +cat's. + +"Eh?" he stammered. "What? Not a bit. You take my wife!" + +"Get away!" hissed Bosinney--"or I'll throw you into the road!" + +Dartie recoiled; he saw as plainly as possible that the fellow meant it. +In the space he made Irene had slipped by, her dress brushed his legs. +Bosinney stepped in after her. + +"Go on!" he heard the Buccaneer cry. The cabman flicked his horse. It +sprang forward. + +Dartie stood for a moment dumbfounded; then, dashing at the cab where his +wife sat, he scrambled in. + +"Drive on!" he shouted to the driver, "and don't you lose sight of that +fellow in front!" + +Seated by his wife's side, he burst into imprecations. Calming himself +at last with a supreme effort, he added: "A pretty mess you've made of +it, to let the Buccaneer drive home with her; why on earth couldn't you +keep hold of him? He's mad with love; any fool can see that!" + +He drowned Winifred's rejoinder with fresh calls to the Almighty; nor was +it until they reached Barnes that he ceased a Jeremiad, in the course of +which he had abused her, her father, her brother, Irene, Bosinney, the +name of Forsyte, his own children, and cursed the day when he had ever +married. + +Winifred, a woman of strong character, let him have his say, at the end +of which he lapsed into sulky silence. His angry eyes never deserted the +back of that cab, which, like a lost chance, haunted the darkness in +front of him. + +Fortunately he could not hear Bosinney's passionate pleading--that +pleading which the man of the world's conduct had let loose like a flood; +he could not see Irene shivering, as though some garment had been torn +from her, nor her eyes, black and mournful, like the eyes of a beaten +child. He could not hear Bosinney entreating, entreating, always +entreating; could not hear her sudden, soft weeping, nor see that poor, +hungry-looking devil, awed and trembling, humbly touching her hand. + +In Montpellier Square their cabman, following his instructions to the +letter, faithfully drew up behind the cab in front. The Darties saw +Bosinney spring out, and Irene follow, and hasten up the steps with bent +head. She evidently had her key in her hand, for she disappeared at +once. It was impossible to tell whether she had turned to speak to +Bosinney. + +The latter came walking past their cab; both husband and wife had an +admirable view of his face in the light of a street lamp. It was working +with violent emotion. + +"Good-night, Mr. Bosinney!" called Winifred. + +Bosinney started, clawed off his hat, and hurried on. He had obviously +forgotten their existence. + +"There!" said Dartie, "did you see the beast's face? What did I say? +Fine games!" He improved the occasion. + +There had so clearly been a crisis in the cab that Winifred was unable to +defend her theory. + +She said: "I shall say nothing about it. I don't see any use in making a +fuss!" + +With that view Dartie at once concurred; looking upon James as a private +preserve, he disapproved of his being disturbed by the troubles of +others. + +"Quite right," he said; "let Soames look after himself. He's jolly well +able to!" + +Thus speaking, the Darties entered their habitat in Green Street, the +rent of which was paid by James, and sought a well-earned rest. The hour +was midnight, and no Forsytes remained abroad in the streets to spy out +Bosinney's wanderings; to see him return and stand against the rails of +the Square garden, back from the glow of the street lamp; to see him +stand there in the shadow of trees, watching the house where in the dark +was hidden she whom he would have given the world to see for a single +minute--she who was now to him the breath of the lime-trees, the meaning +of the light and the darkness, the very beating of his own heart. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DIAGNOSIS OF A FORSYTE + +It is in the nature of a Forsyte to be ignorant that he is a Forsyte; but +young Jolyon was well aware of being one. He had not known it till after +the decisive step which had made him an outcast; since then the knowledge +had been with him continually. He felt it throughout his alliance, +throughout all his dealings with his second wife, who was emphatically +not a Forsyte. + +He knew that if he had not possessed in great measure the eye for what he +wanted, the tenacity to hold on to it, the sense of the folly of wasting +that for which he had given so big a price--in other words, the 'sense of +property' he could never have retained her (perhaps never would have +desired to retain her) with him through all the financial troubles, +slights, and misconstructions of those fifteen years; never have induced +her to marry him on the death of his first wife; never have lived it all +through, and come up, as it were, thin, but smiling. + +He was one of those men who, seated cross-legged like miniature Chinese +idols in the cages of their own hearts, are ever smiling at themselves a +doubting smile. Not that this smile, so intimate and eternal, interfered +with his actions, which, like his chin and his temperament, were quite a +peculiar blend of softness and determination. + +He was conscious, too, of being a Forsyte in his work, that painting of +water-colours to which he devoted so much energy, always with an eye on +himself, as though he could not take so unpractical a pursuit quite +seriously, and always with a certain queer uneasiness that he did not +make more money at it. + +It was, then, this consciousness of what it meant to be a Forsyte, that +made him receive the following letter from old Jolyon, with a mixture of +sympathy and disgust: + +'SHELDRAKE HOUSE, + 'BROADSTAIRS, + +'July 1. 'MY DEAR JO,' + +(The Dad's handwriting had altered very little in the thirty odd years +that he remembered it.) + +'We have been here now a fortnight, and have had good weather on the +whole. The air is bracing, but my liver is out of order, and I shall be +glad enough to get back to town. I cannot say much for June, her health +and spirits are very indifferent, and I don't see what is to come of it. +She says nothing, but it is clear that she is harping on this engagement, +which is an engagement and no engagement, and--goodness knows what. I +have grave doubts whether she ought to be allowed to return to London in +the present state of affairs, but she is so self-willed that she might +take it into her head to come up at any moment. The fact is someone +ought to speak to Bosinney and ascertain what he means. I'm afraid of +this myself, for I should certainly rap him over the knuckles, but I +thought that you, knowing him at the Club, might put in a word, and get +to ascertain what the fellow is about. You will of course in no way +commit June. I shall be glad to hear from you in the course of a few +days whether you have succeeded in gaining any information. The +situation is very distressing to me, I worry about it at night. + +With my love to Jolly and Holly. +'I am, + 'Your affect. father, +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + +Young Jolyon pondered this letter so long and seriously that his wife +noticed his preoccupation, and asked him what was the matter. He +replied: "Nothing." + +It was a fixed principle with him never to allude to June. She might +take alarm, he did not know what she might think; he hastened, therefore, +to banish from his manner all traces of absorption, but in this he was +about as successful as his father would have been, for he had inherited +all old Jolyon's transparency in matters of domestic finesse; and young +Mrs. Jolyon, busying herself over the affairs of the house, went about +with tightened lips, stealing at him unfathomable looks. + +He started for the Club in the afternoon with the letter in his pocket, +and without having made up his mind. + +To sound a man as to 'his intentions' was peculiarly unpleasant to him; +nor did his own anomalous position diminish this unpleasantness. It was +so like his family, so like all the people they knew and mixed with, to +enforce what they called their rights over a man, to bring him up to the +mark; so like them to carry their business principles into their private +relations. + +And how that phrase in the letter--'You will, of course, in no way commit +June'--gave the whole thing away. + +Yet the letter, with the personal grievance, the concern for June, the +'rap over the knuckles,' was all so natural. No wonder his father wanted +to know what Bosinney meant, no wonder he was angry. + +It was difficult to refuse! But why give the thing to him to do? That +was surely quite unbecoming; but so long as a Forsyte got what he was +after, he was not too particular about the means, provided appearances +were saved. + +How should he set about it, or how refuse? Both seemed impossible. So, +young Jolyon! + +He arrived at the Club at three o'clock, and the first person he saw was +Bosinney himself, seated in a corner, staring out of the window. + +Young Jolyon sat down not far off, and began nervously to reconsider his +position. He looked covertly at Bosinney sitting there unconscious. He +did not know him very well, and studied him attentively for perhaps the +first time; an unusual looking man, unlike in dress, face, and manner to +most of the other members of the Club--young Jolyon himself, however +different he had become in mood and temper, had always retained the neat +reticence of Forsyte appearance. He alone among Forsytes was ignorant of +Bosinney's nickname. The man was unusual, not eccentric, but unusual; he +looked worn, too, haggard, hollow in the cheeks beneath those broad, high +cheekbones, though without any appearance of ill-health, for he was +strongly built, with curly hair that seemed to show all the vitality of a +fine constitution. + +Something in his face and attitude touched young Jolyon. He knew what +suffering was like, and this man looked as if he were suffering. + +He got up and touched his arm. + +Bosinney started, but exhibited no sign of embarrassment on seeing who it +was. + +Young Jolyon sat down. + +"I haven't seen you for a long time," he said. "How are you getting on +with my cousin's house?" + +"It'll be finished in about a week." + +"I congratulate you!" + +"Thanks--I don't know that it's much of a subject for congratulation." + +"No?" queried young Jolyon; "I should have thought you'd be glad to get a +long job like that off your hands; but I suppose you feel it much as I do +when I part with a picture--a sort of child?" + +He looked kindly at Bosinney. + +"Yes," said the latter more cordially, "it goes out from you and there's +an end of it. I didn't know you painted." + +"Only water-colours; I can't say I believe in my work." + +"Don't believe in it? There--how can you do it? Work's no use unless +you believe in it!" + +"Good," said young Jolyon; "it's exactly what I've always said. +By-the-bye, have you noticed that whenever one says 'Good,' one always +adds 'it's exactly what I've always said'! But if you ask me how I do +it, I answer, because I'm a Forsyte." + +"A Forsyte! I never thought of you as one!" + +"A Forsyte," replied young Jolyon, "is not an uncommon animal. There are +hundreds among the members of this Club. Hundreds out there in the +streets; you meet them wherever you go!" + +"And how do you tell them, may I ask?" said Bosinney. + +"By their sense of property. A Forsyte takes a practical--one might say +a commonsense--view of things, and a practical view of things is based +fundamentally on a sense of property. A Forsyte, you will notice, never +gives himself away." + +"Joking?" + +Young Jolyon's eye twinkled. + +"Not much. As a Forsyte myself, I have no business to talk. But I'm a +kind of thoroughbred mongrel; now, there's no mistaking you: You're as +different from me as I am from my Uncle James, who is the perfect +specimen of a Forsyte. His sense of property is extreme, while you have +practically none. Without me in between, you would seem like a different +species. I'm the missing link. We are, of course, all of us the slaves +of property, and I admit that it's a question of degree, but what I call +a 'Forsyte' is a man who is decidedly more than less a slave of property. +He knows a good thing, he knows a safe thing, and his grip on +property--it doesn't matter whether it be wives, houses, money, or +reputation--is his hall-mark." + +"Ah!" murmured Bosinney. "You should patent the word." + +"I should like," said young Jolyon, "to lecture on it: + +"Properties and quality of a Forsyte: This little animal, disturbed by +the ridicule of his own sort, is unaffected in his motions by the +laughter of strange creatures (you or I). Hereditarily disposed to +myopia, he recognises only the persons of his own species, amongst which +he passes an existence of competitive tranquillity." + +"You talk of them," said Bosinney, "as if they were half England." + +"They are," repeated young Jolyon, "half England, and the better half, +too, the safe half, the three per cent. half, the half that counts. It's +their wealth and security that makes everything possible; makes your art +possible, makes literature, science, even religion, possible. Without +Forsytes, who believe in none of these things, and habitats but turn them +all to use, where should we be? My dear sir, the Forsytes are the +middlemen, the commercials, the pillars of society, the cornerstones of +convention; everything that is admirable!" + +"I don't know whether I catch your drift," said Bosinney, "but I fancy +there are plenty of Forsytes, as you call them, in my profession." + +"Certainly," replied young Jolyon. "The great majority of architects, +painters, or writers have no principles, like any other Forsytes. Art, +literature, religion, survive by virtue of the few cranks who really +believe in such things, and the many Forsytes who make a commercial use +of them. At a low estimate, three-fourths of our Royal Academicians are +Forsytes, seven-eighths of our novelists, a large proportion of the +press. Of science I can't speak; they are magnificently represented in +religion; in the House of Commons perhaps more numerous than anywhere; +the aristocracy speaks for itself. But I'm not laughing. It is +dangerous to go against the majority and what a majority!" He fixed his +eyes on Bosinney: "It's dangerous to let anything carry you away--a +house, a picture, a--woman!" + +They looked at each other.--And, as though he had done that which no +Forsyte did--given himself away, young Jolyon drew into his shell. +Bosinney broke the silence. + +"Why do you take your own people as the type?" said he. + +"My people," replied young Jolyon, "are not very extreme, and they have +their own private peculiarities, like every other family, but they +possess in a remarkable degree those two qualities which are the real +tests of a Forsyte--the power of never being able to give yourself up to +anything soul and body, and the 'sense of property'." + +Bosinney smiled: "How about the big one, for instance?" + +"Do you mean Swithin?" asked young Jolyon. "Ah! in Swithin there's +something primeval still. The town and middle-class life haven't +digested him yet. All the old centuries of farm work and brute force +have settled in him, and there they've stuck, for all he's so +distinguished." + +Bosinney seemed to ponder. "Well, you've hit your cousin Soames off to +the life," he said suddenly. "He'll never blow his brains out." + +Young Jolyon shot at him a penetrating glance. + +"No," he said; "he won't. That's why he's to be reckoned with. Look out +for their grip! It's easy to laugh, but don't mistake me. It doesn't do +to despise a Forsyte; it doesn't do to disregard them!" + +"Yet you've done it yourself!" + +Young Jolyon acknowledged the hit by losing his smile. + +"You forget," he said with a queer pride, "I can hold on, too--I'm a +Forsyte myself. We're all in the path of great forces. The man who +leaves the shelter of the wall--well--you know what I mean. I don't," he +ended very low, as though uttering a threat, "recommend every man +to-go-my-way. It depends." + +The colour rushed into Bosinney's face, but soon receded, leaving it +sallow-brown as before. He gave a short laugh, that left his lips fixed +in a queer, fierce smile; his eyes mocked young Jolyon. + +"Thanks," he said. "It's deuced kind of you. But you're not the only +chaps that can hold on." He rose. + +Young Jolyon looked after him as he walked away, and, resting his head on +his hand, sighed. + +In the drowsy, almost empty room the only sounds were the rustle of +newspapers, the scraping of matches being struck. He stayed a long time +without moving, living over again those days when he, too, had sat long +hours watching the clock, waiting for the minutes to pass--long hours +full of the torments of uncertainty, and of a fierce, sweet aching; and +the slow, delicious agony of that season came back to him with its old +poignancy. The sight of Bosinney, with his haggard face, and his +restless eyes always wandering to the clock, had roused in him a pity, +with which was mingled strange, irresistible envy. + +He knew the signs so well. Whither was he going--to what sort of fate? +What kind of woman was it who was drawing him to her by that magnetic +force which no consideration of honour, no principle, no interest could +withstand; from which the only escape was flight. + +Flight! But why should Bosinney fly? A man fled when he was in danger +of destroying hearth and home, when there were children, when he felt +himself trampling down ideals, breaking something. But here, so he had +heard, it was all broken to his hand. + +He himself had not fled, nor would he fly if it were all to come over +again. Yet he had gone further than Bosinney, had broken up his own +unhappy home, not someone else's: And the old saying came back to him: 'A +man's fate lies in his own heart.' + +In his own heart! The proof of the pudding was in the eating--Bosinney +had still to eat his pudding. + +His thoughts passed to the woman, the woman whom he did not know, but the +outline of whose story he had heard. + +An unhappy marriage! No ill-treatment--only that indefinable malaise, +that terrible blight which killed all sweetness under Heaven; and so from +day to day, from night to night, from week to week, from year to year, +till death should end it. + +But young Jolyon, the bitterness of whose own feelings time had assuaged, +saw Soames' side of the question too. Whence should a man like his +cousin, saturated with all the prejudices and beliefs of his class, draw +the insight or inspiration necessary to break up this life? It was a +question of imagination, of projecting himself into the future beyond the +unpleasant gossip, sneers, and tattle that followed on such separations, +beyond the passing pangs that the lack of the sight of her would cause, +beyond the grave disapproval of the worthy. But few men, and especially +few men of Soames' class, had imagination enough for that. A deal of +mortals in this world, and not enough imagination to go round! And sweet +Heaven, what a difference between theory and practice; many a man, +perhaps even Soames, held chivalrous views on such matters, who when the +shoe pinched found a distinguishing factor that made of himself an +exception. + +Then, too, he distrusted his judgment. He had been through the +experience himself, had tasted too the dregs the bitterness of an unhappy +marriage, and how could he take the wide and dispassionate view of those +who had never been within sound of the battle? His evidence was too +first-hand--like the evidence on military matters of a soldier who has +been through much active service, against that of civilians who have not +suffered the disadvantage of seeing things too close. Most people would +consider such a marriage as that of Soames and Irene quite fairly +successful; he had money, she had beauty; it was a case for compromise. +There was no reason why they should not jog along, even if they hated +each other. It would not matter if they went their own ways a little so +long as the decencies were observed--the sanctity of the marriage tie, of +the common home, respected. Half the marriages of the upper classes were +conducted on these lines: Do not offend the susceptibilities of Society; +do not offend the susceptibilities of the Church. To avoid offending +these is worth the sacrifice of any private feelings. The advantages of +the stable home are visible, tangible, so many pieces of property; there +is no risk in the statu quo. To break up a home is at the best a +dangerous experiment, and selfish into the bargain. + +This was the case for the defence, and young Jolyon sighed. + +'The core of it all,' he thought, 'is property, but there are many people +who would not like it put that way. To them it is "the sanctity of the +marriage tie"; but the sanctity of the marriage tie is dependent on the +sanctity of the family, and the sanctity of the family is dependent on +the sanctity of property. And yet I imagine all these people are +followers of One who never owned anything. It is curious! + +And again young Jolyon sighed. + +'Am I going on my way home to ask any poor devils I meet to share my +dinner, which will then be too little for myself, or, at all events, for +my wife, who is necessary to my health and happiness? It may be that +after all Soames does well to exercise his rights and support by his +practice the sacred principle of property which benefits us all, with the +exception of those who suffer by the process.' + +And so he left his chair, threaded his way through the maze of seats, +took his hat, and languidly up the hot streets crowded with carriages, +reeking with dusty odours, wended his way home. + +Before reaching Wistaria Avenue he removed old Jolyon's letter from his +pocket, and tearing it carefully into tiny pieces, scattered them in the +dust of the road. + +He let himself in with his key, and called his wife's name. But she had +gone out, taking Jolly and Holly, and the house was empty; alone in the +garden the dog Balthasar lay in the shade snapping at flies. + +Young Jolyon took his seat there, too, under the pear-tree that bore no +fruit. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BOSINNEY ON PAROLE + +The day after the evening at Richmond Soames returned from Henley by a +morning train. Not constitutionally interested in amphibious sports, his +visit had been one of business rather than pleasure, a client of some +importance having asked him down. + +He went straight to the City, but finding things slack, he left at three +o'clock, glad of this chance to get home quietly. Irene did not expect +him. Not that he had any desire to spy on her actions, but there was no +harm in thus unexpectedly surveying the scene. + +After changing to Park clothes he went into the drawing-room. She was +sitting idly in the corner of the sofa, her favourite seat; and there +were circles under her eyes, as though she had not slept. + +He asked: "How is it you're in? Are you expecting somebody?" + +"Yes that is, not particularly." + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Bosinney said he might come." + +"Bosinney. He ought to be at work." + +To this she made no answer. + +"Well," said Soames, "I want you to come out to the Stores with me, and +after that we'll go to the Park." + +"I don't want to go out; I have a headache." + +Soames replied: "If ever I want you to do anything, you've always got a +headache. It'll do you good to come and sit under the trees." + +She did not answer. + +Soames was silent for some minutes; at last he said: "I don't know what +your idea of a wife's duty is. I never have known!" + +He had not expected her to reply, but she did. + +"I have tried to do what you want; it's not my fault that I haven't been +able to put my heart into it." + +"Whose fault is it, then?" He watched her askance. + +"Before we were married you promised to let me go if our marriage was not +a success. Is it a success?" + +Soames frowned. + +"Success," he stammered--"it would be a success if you behaved yourself +properly!" + +"I have tried," said Irene. "Will you let me go?" + +Soames turned away. Secretly alarmed, he took refuge in bluster. + +"Let you go? You don't know what you're talking about. Let you go? How +can I let you go? We're married, aren't we? Then, what are you talking +about? For God's sake, don't let's have any of this sort of nonsense! +Get your hat on, and come and sit in the Park." + +"Then, you won't let me go?" + +He felt her eyes resting on him with a strange, touching look. + +"Let you go!" he said; "and what on earth would you do with yourself if I +did? You've got no money!" + +"I could manage somehow." + +He took a swift turn up and down the room; then came and stood before +her. + +"Understand," he said, "once and for all, I won't have you say this sort +of thing. Go and get your hat on!" + +She did not move. + +"I suppose," said Soames, "you don't want to miss Bosinney if he comes!" + +Irene got up slowly and left the room. She came down with her hat on. + +They went out. + +In the Park, the motley hour of mid-afternoon, when foreigners and other +pathetic folk drive, thinking themselves to be in fashion, had passed; +the right, the proper, hour had come, was nearly gone, before Soames and +Irene seated themselves under the Achilles statue. + +It was some time since he had enjoyed her company in the Park. That was +one of the past delights of the first two seasons of his married life, +when to feel himself the possessor of this gracious creature before all +London had been his greatest, though secret, pride. How many afternoons +had he not sat beside her, extremely neat, with light grey gloves and +faint, supercilious smile, nodding to acquaintances, and now and again +removing his hat. + +His light grey gloves were still on his hands, and on his lips his smile +sardonic, but where the feeling in his heart? + +The seats were emptying fast, but still he kept her there, silent and +pale, as though to work out a secret punishment. Once or twice he made +some comment, and she bent her head, or answered "Yes" with a tired +smile. + +Along the rails a man was walking so fast that people stared after him +when he passed. + +"Look at that ass!" said Soames; "he must be mad to walk like that in +this heat!" + +He turned; Irene had made a rapid movement. + +"Hallo!" he said: "it's our friend the Buccaneer!" + +And he sat still, with his sneering smile, conscious that Irene was +sitting still, and smiling too. + +"Will she bow to him?" he thought. + +But she made no sign. + +Bosinney reached the end of the rails, and came walking back amongst the +chairs, quartering his ground like a pointer. When he saw them he +stopped dead, and raised his hat. + +The smile never left Soames' face; he also took off his hat. + +Bosinney came up, looking exhausted, like a man after hard physical +exercise; the sweat stood in drops on his brow, and Soames' smile seemed +to say: "You've had a trying time, my friend ......What are you doing in +the Park?" he asked. "We thought you despised such frivolity!" + +Bosinney did not seem to hear; he made his answer to Irene: "I've been +round to your place; I hoped I should find you in." + +Somebody tapped Soames on the back, and spoke to him; and in the exchange +of those platitudes over his shoulder, he missed her answer, and took a +resolution. + +"We're just going in," he said to Bosinney; "you'd better come back to +dinner with us." Into that invitation he put a strange bravado, a +stranger pathos: "You, can't deceive me," his look and voice seemed +saying, "but see--I trust you--I'm not afraid of you!" + +They started back to Montpellier Square together, Irene between them. In +the crowded streets Soames went on in front. He did not listen to their +conversation; the strange resolution of trustfulness he had taken seemed +to animate even his secret conduct. Like a gambler, he said to himself: +'It's a card I dare not throw away--I must play it for what it's worth. +I have not too many chances.' + +He dressed slowly, heard her leave her room and go downstairs, and, for +full five minutes after, dawdled about in his dressing-room. Then he +went down, purposely shutting the door loudly to show that he was coming. +He found them standing by the hearth, perhaps talking, perhaps not; he +could not say. + +He played his part out in the farce, the long evening through--his +manner to his guest more friendly than it had ever been before; and when +at last Bosinney went, he said: "You must come again soon; Irene likes to +have you to talk about the house!" Again his voice had the strange +bravado and the stranger pathos; but his hand was cold as ice. + +Loyal to his resolution, he turned away from their parting, turned away +from his wife as she stood under the hanging lamp to say good-night--away +from the sight of her golden head shining so under the light, of her +smiling mournful lips; away from the sight of Bosinney's eyes looking at +her, so like a dog's looking at its master. + +And he went to bed with the certainty that Bosinney was in love with his +wife. + +The summer night was hot, so hot and still that through every opened +window came in but hotter air. For long hours he lay listening to her +breathing. + +She could sleep, but he must lie awake. And, lying awake, he hardened +himself to play the part of the serene and trusting husband. + +In the small hours he slipped out of bed, and passing into his +dressing-room, leaned by the open window. + +He could hardly breathe. + +A night four years ago came back to him--the night but one before his +marriage; as hot and stifling as this. + +He remembered how he had lain in a long cane chair in the window of his +sitting-room off Victoria Street. Down below in a side street a man had +banged at a door, a woman had cried out; he remembered, as though it were +now, the sound of the scuffle, the slam of the door, the dead silence +that followed. And then the early water-cart, cleansing the reek of the +streets, had approached through the strange-seeming, useless lamp-light; +he seemed to hear again its rumble, nearer and nearer, till it passed and +slowly died away. + +He leaned far out of the dressing-room window over the little court +below, and saw the first light spread. The outlines of dark walls and +roofs were blurred for a moment, then came out sharper than before. + +He remembered how that other night he had watched the lamps paling all +the length of Victoria Street; how he had hurried on his clothes and gone +down into the street, down past houses and squares, to the street where +she was staying, and there had stood and looked at the front of the +little house, as still and grey as the face of a dead man. + +And suddenly it shot through his mind; like a sick man's fancy: What's he +doing?--that fellow who haunts me, who was here this evening, who's in +love with my wife--prowling out there, perhaps, looking for her as I know +he was looking for her this afternoon; watching my house now, for all I +can tell! + +He stole across the landing to the front of the house, stealthily drew +aside a blind, and raised a window. + +The grey light clung about the trees of the square, as though Night, like +a great downy moth, had brushed them with her wings. The lamps were still +alight, all pale, but not a soul stirred--no living thing in sight. + +Yet suddenly, very faint, far off in the deathly stillness, he heard a +cry writhing, like the voice of some wandering soul barred out of heaven, +and crying for its happiness. There it was again--again! Soames shut +the window, shuddering. + +Then he thought: 'Ah! it's only the peacocks, across the water.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JUNE PAYS SOME CALLS + +Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that odour of +oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable seaside +lodging-houses. On a chair--a shiny leather chair, displaying its +horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand corner--stood a black +despatch case. This he was filling with papers, with the Times, and a +bottle of Eau-de Cologne. He had meetings that day of the 'Globular Gold +Concessions' and the 'New Colliery Company, Limited,' to which he was +going up, for he never missed a Board; to 'miss a Board' would be one +more piece of evidence that he was growing old, and this his jealous +Forsyte spirit could not bear. + +His eyes, as he filled that black despatch case, looked as if at any +moment they might blaze up with anger. So gleams the eye of a schoolboy, +baited by a ring of his companions; but he controls himself, deterred by +the fearful odds against him. And old Jolyon controlled himself, keeping +down, with his masterful restraint now slowly wearing out, the irritation +fostered in him by the conditions of his life. + +He had received from his son an unpractical letter, in which by rambling +generalities the boy seemed trying to get out of answering a plain +question. 'I've seen Bosinney,' he said; 'he is not a criminal. The +more I see of people the more I am convinced that they are never good or +bad--merely comic, or pathetic. You probably don't agree with me!' + +Old Jolyon did not; he considered it cynical to so express oneself; he +had not yet reached that point of old age when even Forsytes, bereft of +those illusions and principles which they have cherished carefully for +practical purposes but never believed in, bereft of all corporeal +enjoyment, stricken to the very heart by having nothing left to hope +for--break through the barriers of reserve and say things they would +never have believed themselves capable of saying. + +Perhaps he did not believe in 'goodness' and 'badness' any more than his +son; but as he would have said: He didn't know--couldn't tell; there +might be something in it; and why, by an unnecessary expression of +disbelief, deprive yourself of possible advantage? + +Accustomed to spend his holidays among the mountains, though (like a true +Forsyte) he had never attempted anything too adventurous or too +foolhardy, he had been passionately fond of them. And when the wonderful +view (mentioned in Baedeker--'fatiguing but repaying')--was disclosed to +him after the effort of the climb, he had doubtless felt the existence of +some great, dignified principle crowning the chaotic strivings, the petty +precipices, and ironic little dark chasms of life. This was as near to +religion, perhaps, as his practical spirit had ever gone. + +But it was many years since he had been to the mountains. He had taken +June there two seasons running, after his wife died, and had realized +bitterly that his walking days were over. + +To that old mountain--given confidence in a supreme order of things he +had long been a stranger. + +He knew himself to be old, yet he felt young; and this troubled him. It +troubled and puzzled him, too, to think that he, who had always been so +careful, should be father and grandfather to such as seemed born to +disaster. He had nothing to say against Jo--who could say anything +against the boy, an amiable chap?--but his position was deplorable, and +this business of June's nearly as bad. It seemed like a fatality, and a +fatality was one of those things no man of his character could either +understand or put up with. + +In writing to his son he did not really hope that anything would come of +it. Since the ball at Roger's he had seen too clearly how the land +lay--he could put two and two together quicker than most men--and, with +the example of his own son before his eyes, knew better than any Forsyte +of them all that the pale flame singes men's wings whether they will or +no. + +In the days before June's engagement, when she and Mrs. Soames were +always together, he had seen enough of Irene to feel the spell she cast +over men. She was not a flirt, not even a coquette--words dear to the +heart of his generation, which loved to define things by a good, broad, +inadequate word--but she was dangerous. He could not say why. Tell him +of a quality innate in some women--a seductive power beyond their own +control! He would but answer: 'Humbug!' She was dangerous, and there +was an end of it. He wanted to close his eyes to that affair. If it +was, it was; he did not want to hear any more about it--he only wanted to +save June's position and her peace of mind. He still hoped she might +once more become a comfort to himself. + +And so he had written. He got little enough out of the answer. As to +what young Jolyon had made of the interview, there was practically only +the queer sentence: 'I gather that he's in the stream.' The stream! What +stream? What was this new-fangled way of talking? + +He sighed, and folded the last of the papers under the flap of the bag; +he knew well enough what was meant. + +June came out of the dining-room, and helped him on with his summer coat. +From her costume, and the expression of her little resolute face, he saw +at once what was coming. + +"I'm going with you," she said. + +"Nonsense, my dear; I go straight into the City. I can't have you +racketting about!" + +"I must see old Mrs. Smeech." + +"Oh, your precious 'lame ducks!" grumbled out old Jolyon. He did not +believe her excuse, but ceased his opposition. There was no doing +anything with that pertinacity of hers. + +At Victoria he put her into the carriage which had been ordered for +himself--a characteristic action, for he had no petty selfishnesses. + +"Now, don't you go tiring yourself, my darling," he said, and took a cab +on into the city. + +June went first to a back-street in Paddington, where Mrs. Smeech, her +'lame duck,' lived--an aged person, connected with the charring interest; +but after half an hour spent in hearing her habitually lamentable +recital, and dragooning her into temporary comfort, she went on to +Stanhope Gate. The great house was closed and dark. + +She had decided to learn something at all costs. It was better to face +the worst, and have it over. And this was her plan: To go first to +Phil's aunt, Mrs. Baynes, and, failing information there, to Irene +herself. She had no clear notion of what she would gain by these visits. + +At three o'clock she was in Lowndes Square. With a woman's instinct when +trouble is to be faced, she had put on her best frock, and went to the +battle with a glance as courageous as old Jolyon's itself. Her tremors +had passed into eagerness. + +Mrs. Baynes, Bosinney's aunt (Louisa was her name), was in her kitchen +when June was announced, organizing the cook, for she was an excellent +housewife, and, as Baynes always said, there was 'a lot in a good +dinner.' He did his best work after dinner. It was Baynes who built +that remarkably fine row of tall crimson houses in Kensington which +compete with so many others for the title of 'the ugliest in London.' + +On hearing June's name, she went hurriedly to her bedroom, and, taking +two large bracelets from a red morocco case in a locked drawer, put them +on her white wrists--for she possessed in a remarkable degree that 'sense +of property,' which, as we know, is the touchstone of Forsyteism, and the +foundation of good morality. + +Her figure, of medium height and broad build, with a tendency to +embonpoint, was reflected by the mirror of her whitewood wardrobe, in a +gown made under her own organization, of one of those half-tints, +reminiscent of the distempered walls of corridors in large hotels. She +raised her hands to her hair, which she wore a la Princesse de Galles, +and touched it here and there, settling it more firmly on her head, and +her eyes were full of an unconscious realism, as though she were looking +in the face one of life's sordid facts, and making the best of it. In +youth her cheeks had been of cream and roses, but they were mottled now +by middle-age, and again that hard, ugly directness came into her eyes as +she dabbed a powder-puff across her forehead. Putting the puff down, she +stood quite still before the glass, arranging a smile over her high, +important nose, her, chin, (never large, and now growing smaller with the +increase of her neck), her thin-lipped, down-drooping mouth. Quickly, +not to lose the effect, she grasped her skirts strongly in both hands, +and went downstairs. + +She had been hoping for this visit for some time past. Whispers had +reached her that things were not all right between her nephew and his +fiancee. Neither of them had been near her for weeks. She had asked Phil +to dinner many times; his invariable answer had been 'Too busy.' + +Her instinct was alarmed, and the instinct in such matters of this +excellent woman was keen. She ought to have been a Forsyte; in young +Jolyon's sense of the word, she certainly had that privilege, and merits +description as such. + +She had married off her three daughters in a way that people said was +beyond their deserts, for they had the professional plainness only to be +found, as a rule, among the female kind of the more legal callings. Her +name was upon the committees of numberless charities connected with the +Church-dances, theatricals, or bazaars--and she never lent her name +unless sure beforehand that everything had been thoroughly organized. + +She believed, as she often said, in putting things on a commercial basis; +the proper function of the Church, of charity, indeed, of everything, was +to strengthen the fabric of 'Society.' Individual action, therefore, she +considered immoral. Organization was the only thing, for by organization +alone could you feel sure that you were getting a return for your money. +Organization--and again, organization! And there is no doubt that she +was what old Jolyon called her--"a 'dab' at that"--he went further, he +called her "a humbug." + +The enterprises to which she lent her name were organized so admirably +that by the time the takings were handed over, they were indeed skim milk +divested of all cream of human kindness. But as she often justly +remarked, sentiment was to be deprecated. She was, in fact, a little +academic. + +This great and good woman, so highly thought of in ecclesiastical +circles, was one of the principal priestesses in the temple of +Forsyteism, keeping alive day and night a sacred flame to the God of +Property, whose altar is inscribed with those inspiring words: 'Nothing +for nothing, and really remarkably little for sixpence.' + +When she entered a room it was felt that something substantial had come +in, which was probably the reason of her popularity as a patroness. +People liked something substantial when they had paid money for it; and +they would look at her--surrounded by her staff in charity ballrooms, +with her high nose and her broad, square figure, attired in an uniform +covered with sequins--as though she were a general. + +The only thing against her was that she had not a double name. She was a +power in upper middle-class society, with its hundred sets and circles, +all intersecting on the common battlefield of charity functions, and on +that battlefield brushing skirts so pleasantly with the skirts of Society +with the capital 'S.' She was a power in society with the smaller 's,' +that larger, more significant, and more powerful body, where the +commercially Christian institutions, maxims, and 'principle,' which Mrs. +Baynes embodied, were real life-blood, circulating freely, real business +currency, not merely the sterilized imitation that flowed in the veins of +smaller Society with the larger 'S.' People who knew her felt her to be +sound--a sound woman, who never gave herself away, nor anything else, if +she could possibly help it. + +She had been on the worst sort of terms with Bosinney's father, who had +not infrequently made her the object of an unpardonable ridicule. She +alluded to him now that he was gone as her 'poor, dear, irreverend +brother.' + +She greeted June with the careful effusion of which she was a mistress, a +little afraid of her as far as a woman of her eminence in the commercial +and Christian world could be afraid--for so slight a girl June had a +great dignity, the fearlessness of her eyes gave her that. And Mrs. +Baynes, too, shrewdly recognized that behind the uncompromising frankness +of June's manner there was much of the Forsyte. If the girl had been +merely frank and courageous, Mrs. Baynes would have thought her 'cranky,' +and despised her; if she had been merely a Forsyte, like Francie--let us +say--she would have patronized her from sheer weight of metal; but June, +small though she was--Mrs. Baynes habitually admired quantity--gave her +an uneasy feeling; and she placed her in a chair opposite the light. + +There was another reason for her respect which Mrs. Baynes, too good a +churchwoman to be worldly, would have been the last to admit--she often +heard her husband describe old Jolyon as extremely well off, and was +biassed towards his granddaughter for the soundest of all reasons. +To-day she felt the emotion with which we read a novel describing a hero +and an inheritance, nervously anxious lest, by some frightful lapse of +the novelist, the young man should be left without it at the end. + +Her manner was warm; she had never seen so clearly before how +distinguished and desirable a girl this was. She asked after old +Jolyon's health. A wonderful man for his age; so upright, and young +looking, and how old was he? Eighty-one! She would never have thought +it! They were at the sea! Very nice for them; she supposed June heard +from Phil every day? Her light grey eyes became more prominent as she +asked this question; but the girl met the glance without flinching. + +"No," she said, "he never writes!" + +Mrs. Baynes's eyes dropped; they had no intention of doing so, but they +did. They recovered immediately. + +"Of course not. That's Phil all over--he was always like that!" + +"Was he?" said June. + +The brevity of the answer caused Mrs. Baynes's bright smile a moment's +hesitation; she disguised it by a quick movement, and spreading her +skirts afresh, said: "Why, my dear--he's quite the most harum-scarum +person; one never pays the slightest attention to what he does!" + +The conviction came suddenly to June that she was wasting her time; even +were she to put a question point-blank, she would never get anything out +of this woman. + +'Do you see him?' she asked, her face crimsoning. + +The perspiration broke out on Mrs. Baynes' forehead beneath the powder. + +"Oh, yes! I don't remember when he was here last--indeed, we haven't +seen much of him lately. He's so busy with your cousin's house; I'm told +it'll be finished directly. We must organize a little dinner to +celebrate the event; do come and stay the night with us!" + +"Thank you," said June. Again she thought: 'I'm only wasting my time. +This woman will tell me nothing.' + +She got up to go. A change came over Mrs. Baynes. She rose too; her +lips twitched, she fidgeted her hands. Something was evidently very +wrong, and she did not dare to ask this girl, who stood there, a slim, +straight little figure, with her decided face, her set jaw, and resentful +eyes. She was not accustomed to be afraid of asking question's--all +organization was based on the asking of questions! + +But the issue was so grave that her nerve, normally strong, was fairly +shaken; only that morning her husband had said: "Old Mr. Forsyte must be +worth well over a hundred thousand pounds!" + +And this girl stood there, holding out her hand--holding out her hand! + +The chance might be slipping away--she couldn't tell--the chance of +keeping her in the family, and yet she dared not speak. + +Her eyes followed June to the door. + +It closed. + +Then with an exclamation Mrs. Baynes ran forward, wobbling her bulky +frame from side to side, and opened it again. + +Too late! She heard the front door click, and stood still, an expression +of real anger and mortification on her face. + +June went along the Square with her bird-like quickness. She detested +that woman now whom in happier days she had been accustomed to think so +kind. Was she always to be put off thus, and forced to undergo this +torturing suspense? + +She would go to Phil himself, and ask him what he meant. She had the +right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she came to +Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, she ran up the +stairs, her heart thumping painfully. + +At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding on to +the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above. + +With a very white face she mounted the last flight. She saw the door, +with his name on the plate. And the resolution that had brought her so +far evaporated. + +The full meaning of her conduct came to her. She felt hot all over; the +palms of her hands were moist beneath the thin silk covering of her +gloves. + +She drew back to the stairs, but did not descend. Leaning against the +rail she tried to get rid of a feeling of being choked; and she gazed at +the door with a sort of dreadful courage. No! she refused to go down. +Did it matter what people thought of her? They would never know! No one +would help her if she did not help herself! She would go through with +it. + +Forcing herself, therefore, to leave the support of the wall, she rang +the bell. The door did not open, and all her shame and fear suddenly +abandoned her; she rang again and again, as though in spite of its +emptiness she could drag some response out of that closed room, some +recompense for the shame and fear that visit had cost her. It did not +open; she left off ringing, and, sitting down at the top of the stairs, +buried her face in her hands. + +Presently she stole down, out into the air. She felt as though she had +passed through a bad illness, and had no desire now but to get home as +quickly as she could. The people she met seemed to know where she had +been, what she had been doing; and suddenly--over on the opposite side, +going towards his rooms from the direction of Montpellier Square--she saw +Bosinney himself. + +She made a movement to cross into the traffic. Their eyes met, and he +raised his hat. An omnibus passed, obscuring her view; then, from the +edge of the pavement, through a gap in the traffic, she saw him walking +on. + +And June stood motionless, looking after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PERFECTION OF THE HOUSE + +'One mockturtle, clear; one oxtail; two glasses of port.' + +In the upper room at French's, where a Forsyte could still get heavy +English food, James and his son were sitting down to lunch. + +Of all eating-places James liked best to come here; there was something +unpretentious, well-flavoured, and filling about it, and though he had +been to a certain extent corrupted by the necessity for being +fashionable, and the trend of habits keeping pace with an income that +would increase, he still hankered in quiet City moments after the tasty +fleshpots of his earlier days. Here you were served by hairy English +waiters in aprons; there was sawdust on the floor, and three round gilt +looking-glasses hung just above the line of sight. They had only +recently done away with the cubicles, too, in which you could have your +chop, prime chump, with a floury-potato, without seeing your neighbours, +like a gentleman. + +He tucked the top corner of his napkin behind the third button of his +waistcoat, a practice he had been obliged to abandon years ago in the +West End. He felt that he should relish his soup--the entire morning had +been given to winding up the estate of an old friend. + +After filling his mouth with household bread, stale, he at once began: +"How are you going down to Robin Hill? You going to take Irene? You'd +better take her. I should think there'll be a lot that'll want seeing +to." + +Without looking up, Soames answered: "She won't go." + +"Won't go? What's the meaning of that? She's going to live in the +house, isn't she?" + +Soames made no reply. + +"I don't know what's coming to women nowadays," mumbled James; "I never +used to have any trouble with them. She's had too much liberty. She's +spoiled...." + +Soames lifted his eyes: "I won't have anything said against her," he said +unexpectedly. + +The silence was only broken now by the supping of James's soup. + +The waiter brought the two glasses of port, but Soames stopped him. + +"That's not the way to serve port," he said; "take them away, and bring +the bottle." + +Rousing himself from his reverie over the soup, James took one of his +rapid shifting surveys of surrounding facts. + +"Your mother's in bed," he said; "you can have the carriage to take you +down. I should think Irene'd like the drive. This young Bosinney'll be +there, I suppose, to show you over" + +Soames nodded. + +"I should like to go and see for myself what sort of a job he's made +finishing off," pursued James. "I'll just drive round and pick you both +up." + +"I am going down by train," replied Soames. "If you like to drive round +and see, Irene might go with you, I can't tell." + +He signed to the waiter to bring the bill, which James paid. + +They parted at St. Paul's, Soames branching off to the station, James +taking his omnibus westwards. + +He had secured the corner seat next the conductor, where his long legs +made it difficult for anyone to get in, and at all who passed him he +looked resentfully, as if they had no business to be using up his air. + +He intended to take an opportunity this afternoon of speaking to Irene. +A word in time saved nine; and now that she was going to live in the +country there was a chance for her to turn over a new leaf! He could see +that Soames wouldn't stand very much more of her goings on! + +It did not occur to him to define what he meant by her 'goings on'; the +expression was wide, vague, and suited to a Forsyte. And James had more +than his common share of courage after lunch. + +On reaching home, he ordered out the barouche, with special instructions +that the groom was to go too. He wished to be kind to her, and to give +her every chance. + +When the door of No.62 was opened he could distinctly hear her singing, +and said so at once, to prevent any chance of being denied entrance. + +Yes, Mrs. Soames was in, but the maid did not know if she was seeing +people. + +James, moving with the rapidity that ever astonished the observers of his +long figure and absorbed expression, went forthwith into the drawing-room +without permitting this to be ascertained. He found Irene seated at the +piano with her hands arrested on the keys, evidently listening to the +voices in the hall. She greeted him without smiling. + +"Your mother-in-law's in bed," he began, hoping at once to enlist her +sympathy. "I've got the carriage here. Now, be a good girl, and put on +your hat and come with me for a drive. It'll do you good!" + +Irene looked at him as though about to refuse, but, seeming to change her +mind, went upstairs, and came down again with her hat on. + +"Where are you going to take me?" she asked. + +"We'll just go down to Robin Hill," said James, spluttering out his words +very quick; "the horses want exercise, and I should like to see what +they've been doing down there." + +Irene hung back, but again changed her mind, and went out to the +carriage, James brooding over her closely, to make quite sure. + +It was not before he had got her more than half way that he began: +"Soames is very fond of you--he won't have anything said against you; why +don't you show him more affection?" + +Irene flushed, and said in a low voice: "I can't show what I haven't +got." + +James looked at her sharply; he felt that now he had her in his own +carriage, with his own horses and servants, he was really in command of +the situation. She could not put him off; nor would she make a scene in +public. + +"I can't think what you're about," he said. "He's a very good husband!" + +Irene's answer was so low as to be almost inaudible among the sounds of +traffic. He caught the words: "You are not married to him!" + +"What's that got to do with it? He's given you everything you want. +He's always ready to take you anywhere, and now he's built you this house +in the country. It's not as if you had anything of your own." + +"No." + +Again James looked at her; he could not make out the expression on her +face. She looked almost as if she were going to cry, and yet.... + +"I'm sure," he muttered hastily, "we've all tried to be kind to you." + +Irene's lips quivered; to his dismay James saw a tear steal down her +cheek. He felt a choke rise in his own throat. + +"We're all fond of you," he said, "if you'd only"--he was going to say, +"behave yourself," but changed it to--"if you'd only be more of a wife to +him." + +Irene did not answer, and James, too, ceased speaking. There was +something in her silence which disconcerted him; it was not the silence +of obstinacy, rather that of acquiescence in all that he could find to +say. And yet he felt as if he had not had the last word. He could not +understand this. + +He was unable, however, to long keep silence. + +"I suppose that young Bosinney," he said, "will be getting married to +June now?" + +Irene's face changed. "I don't know," she said; "you should ask her." + +"Does she write to you?" No. + +"How's that?" said James. "I thought you and she were such great +friends." + +Irene turned on him. "Again," she said, "you should ask her!" + +"Well," flustered James, frightened by her look, "it's very odd that I +can't get a plain answer to a plain question, but there it is." + +He sat ruminating over his rebuff, and burst out at last: + +"Well, I've warned you. You won't look ahead. Soames he doesn't say +much, but I can see he won't stand a great deal more of this sort of +thing. You'll have nobody but yourself to blame, and, what's more, +you'll get no sympathy from anybody." + +Irene bent her head with a little smiling bow. "I am very much obliged +to you." + +James did not know what on earth to answer. + +The bright hot morning had changed slowly to a grey, oppressive +afternoon; a heavy bank of clouds, with the yellow tinge of coming +thunder, had risen in the south, and was creeping up. + +The branches of the trees dropped motionless across the road without the +smallest stir of foliage. A faint odour of glue from the heated horses +clung in the thick air; the coachman and groom, rigid and unbending, +exchanged stealthy murmurs on the box, without ever turning their heads. + +To James' great relief they reached the house at last; the silence and +impenetrability of this woman by his side, whom he had always thought so +soft and mild, alarmed him. + +The carriage put them down at the door, and they entered. + +The hall was cool, and so still that it was like passing into a tomb; a +shudder ran down James's spine. He quickly lifted the heavy leather +curtains between the columns into the inner court. + +He could not restrain an exclamation of approval. + +The decoration was really in excellent taste. The dull ruby tiles that +extended from the foot of the walls to the verge of a circular clump of +tall iris plants, surrounding in turn a sunken basin of white marble +filled with water, were obviously of the best quality. He admired +extremely the purple leather curtains drawn along one entire side, +framing a huge white-tiled stove. The central partitions of the skylight +had been slid back, and the warm air from outside penetrated into the +very heart of the house. + +He stood, his hands behind him, his head bent back on his high, narrow +shoulders, spying the tracery on the columns and the pattern of the +frieze which ran round the ivory-coloured walls under the gallery. +Evidently, no pains had been spared. It was quite the house of a +gentleman. He went up to the curtains, and, having discovered how they +were worked, drew them asunder and disclosed the picture-gallery, ending +in a great window taking up the whole end of the room. It had a black +oak floor, and its walls, again, were of ivory white. He went on +throwing open doors, and peeping in. Everything was in apple-pie order, +ready for immediate occupation. + +He turned round at last to speak to Irene, and saw her standing over in +the garden entrance, with her husband and Bosinney. + +Though not remarkable for sensibility, James felt at once that something +was wrong. He went up to them, and, vaguely alarmed, ignorant of the +nature of the trouble, made an attempt to smooth things over. + +"How are you, Mr. Bosinney?" he said, holding out his hand. "You've been +spending money pretty freely down here, I should say!" + +Soames turned his back, and walked away. + +James looked from Bosinney's frowning face to Irene, and, in his +agitation, spoke his thoughts aloud: "Well, I can't tell what's the +matter. Nobody tells me anything!" And, making off after his son, he +heard Bosinney's short laugh, and his "Well, thank God! You look so...." +Most unfortunately he lost the rest. + +What had happened? He glanced back. Irene was very close to the +architect, and her face not like the face he knew of her. He hastened up +to his son. + +Soames was pacing the picture-gallery. + +"What's the matter?" said James. "What's all this?" + +Soames looked at him with his supercilious calm unbroken, but James knew +well enough that he was violently angry. + +"Our friend," he said, "has exceeded his instructions again, that's all. +So much the worse for him this time." + +He turned round and walked back towards the door. James followed +hurriedly, edging himself in front. He saw Irene take her finger from +before her lips, heard her say something in her ordinary voice, and began +to speak before he reached them. + +"There's a storm coming on. We'd better get home. We can't take you, I +suppose, Mr. Bosinney? No, I suppose not. Then, good-bye!" He held out +his hand. Bosinney did not take it, but, turning with a laugh, said: + +"Good-bye, Mr. Forsyte. Don't get caught in the storm!" and walked away. + +"Well," began James, "I don't know...." + +But the 'sight of Irene's face stopped him. Taking hold of his +daughter-in-law by the elbow, he escorted her towards the carriage. He +felt certain, quite certain, they had been making some appointment or +other.... + +Nothing in this world is more sure to upset a Forsyte than the discovery +that something on which he has stipulated to spend a certain sum has cost +more. And this is reasonable, for upon the accuracy of his estimates the +whole policy of his life is ordered. If he cannot rely on definite +values of property, his compass is amiss; he is adrift upon bitter waters +without a helm. + +After writing to Bosinney in the terms that have already been chronicled, +Soames had dismissed the cost of the house from his mind. He believed +that he had made the matter of the final cost so very plain that the +possibility of its being again exceeded had really never entered his +head. On hearing from Bosinney that his limit of twelve thousand pounds +would be exceeded by something like four hundred, he had grown white with +anger. His original estimate of the cost of the house completed had been +ten thousand pounds, and he had often blamed himself severely for +allowing himself to be led into repeated excesses. Over this last +expenditure, however, Bosinney had put himself completely in the wrong. +How on earth a fellow could make such an ass of himself Soames could not +conceive; but he had done so, and all the rancour and hidden jealousy +that had been burning against him for so long was now focussed in rage at +this crowning piece of extravagance. The attitude of the confident and +friendly husband was gone. To preserve property--his wife--he had +assumed it, to preserve property of another kind he lost it now. + +"Ah!" he had said to Bosinney when he could speak, "and I suppose you're +perfectly contented with yourself. But I may as well tell you that +you've altogether mistaken your man!" + +What he meant by those words he did not quite know at the time, but after +dinner he looked up the correspondence between himself and Bosinney to +make quite sure. There could be no two opinions about it--the fellow had +made himself liable for that extra four hundred, or, at all events, for +three hundred and fifty of it, and he would have to make it good. + +He was looking at his wife's face when he came to this conclusion. Seated +in her usual seat on the sofa, she was altering the lace on a collar. +She had not once spoken to him all the evening. + +He went up to the mantelpiece, and contemplating his face in the mirror +said: "Your friend the Buccaneer has made a fool of himself; he will have +to pay for it!" + +She looked at him scornfully, and answered: "I don't know what you are +talking about!" + +"You soon will. A mere trifle, quite beneath your contempt--four hundred +pounds." + +"Do you mean that you are going to make him pay that towards this +hateful, house?" + +"I do." + +"And you know he's got nothing?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you are meaner than I thought you." + +Soames turned from the mirror, and unconsciously taking a china cup from +the mantelpiece, clasped his hands around it as though praying. He saw +her bosom rise and fall, her eyes darkening with anger, and taking no +notice of the taunt, he asked quietly: + +"Are you carrying on a flirtation with Bosinney?" + +"No, I am not!" + +Her eyes met his, and he looked away. He neither believed nor +disbelieved her, but he knew that he had made a mistake in asking; he +never had known, never would know, what she was thinking. The sight of +her inscrutable face, the thought of all the hundreds of evenings he had +seen her sitting there like that soft and passive, but unreadable, +unknown, enraged him beyond measure. + +"I believe you are made of stone," he said, clenching his fingers so hard +that he broke the fragile cup. The pieces fell into the grate. And +Irene smiled. + +"You seem to forget," she said, "that cup is not!" + +Soames gripped her arm. "A good beating," he said, "is the only thing +that would bring you to your senses," but turning on his heel, he left +the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOAMES SITS ON THE STAIRS + +Soames went upstairs that night that he had gone too far. He was +prepared to offer excuses for his words. + +He turned out the gas still burning in the passage outside their room. +Pausing, with his hand on the knob of the door, he tried to shape his +apology, for he had no intention of letting her see that he was nervous. + +But the door did not open, nor when he pulled it and turned the handle +firmly. She must have locked it for some reason, and forgotten. + +Entering his dressing-room where the gas was also light and burning low, +he went quickly to the other door. That too was locked. Then he noticed +that the camp bed which he occasionally used was prepared, and his +sleeping-suit laid out upon it. He put his hand up to his forehead, and +brought it away wet. It dawned on him that he was barred out. + +He went back to the door, and rattling the handle stealthily, called: +"Unlock the door, do you hear? Unlock the door!" + +There was a faint rustling, but no answer. + +"Do you hear? Let me in at once--I insist on being let in!" + +He could catch the sound of her breathing close to the door, like the +breathing of a creature threatened by danger. + +There was something terrifying in this inexorable silence, in the +impossibility of getting at her. He went back to the other door, and +putting his whole weight against it, tried to burst it open. The door was +a new one--he had had them renewed himself, in readiness for their coming +in after the honeymoon. In a rage he lifted his foot to kick in the +panel; the thought of the servants restrained him, and he felt suddenly +that he was beaten. + +Flinging himself down in the dressing-room, he took up a book. + +But instead of the print he seemed to see his wife--with her yellow hair +flowing over her bare shoulders, and her great dark eyes--standing like +an animal at bay. And the whole meaning of her act of revolt came to +him. She meant it to be for good. + +He could not sit still, and went to the door again. He could still hear +her, and he called: "Irene! Irene!" + +He did not mean to make his voice pathetic. + +In ominous answer, the faint sounds ceased. He stood with clenched +hands, thinking. + +Presently he stole round on tiptoe, and running suddenly at the other +door, made a supreme effort to break it open. It creaked, but did not +yield. He sat down on the stairs and buried his face in his hands. + +For a long time he sat there in the dark, the moon through the skylight +above laying a pale smear which lengthened slowly towards him down the +stairway. He tried to be philosophical. + +Since she had locked her doors she had no further claim as a wife, and he +would console himself with other women. + +It was but a spectral journey he made among such delights--he had no +appetite for these exploits. He had never had much, and he had lost the +habit. He felt that he could never recover it. His hunger could only be +appeased by his wife, inexorable and frightened, behind these shut doors. +No other woman could help him. + +This conviction came to him with terrible force out there in the dark. + +His philosophy left him; and surly anger took its place. Her conduct was +immoral, inexcusable, worthy of any punishment within his power. He +desired no one but her, and she refused him! + +She must really hate him, then! He had never believed it yet. He did not +believe it now. It seemed to him incredible. He felt as though he had +lost for ever his power of judgment. If she, so soft and yielding as he +had always judged her, could take this decided step--what could not +happen? + +Then he asked himself again if she were carrying on an intrigue with +Bosinney. He did not believe that she was; he could not afford to +believe such a reason for her conduct--the thought was not to be faced. + +It would be unbearable to contemplate the necessity of making his marital +relations public property. Short of the most convincing proofs he must +still refuse to believe, for he did not wish to punish himself. And all +the time at heart--he did believe. + +The moonlight cast a greyish tinge over his figure, hunched against the +staircase wall. + +Bosinney was in love with her! He hated the fellow, and would not spare +him now. He could and would refuse to pay a penny piece over twelve +thousand and fifty pounds--the extreme limit fixed in the correspondence; +or rather he would pay, he would pay and sue him for damages. He would +go to Jobling and Boulter and put the matter in their hands. He would +ruin the impecunious beggar! And suddenly--though what connection +between the thoughts?--he reflected that Irene had no money either. They +were both beggars. This gave him a strange satisfaction. + +The silence was broken by a faint creaking through the wall. She was +going to bed at last. Ah! Joy and pleasant dreams! If she threw the +door open wide he would not go in now! + +But his lips, that were twisted in a bitter smile, twitched; he covered +his eyes with his hands.... + +It was late the following afternoon when Soames stood in the dining-room +window gazing gloomily into the Square. + +The sunlight still showered on the plane-trees, and in the breeze their +gay broad leaves shone and swung in rhyme to a barrel organ at the +corner. It was playing a waltz, an old waltz that was out of fashion, +with a fateful rhythm in the notes; and it went on and on, though nothing +indeed but leaves danced to the tune. + +The woman did not look too gay, for she was tired; and from the tall +houses no one threw her down coppers. She moved the organ on, and three +doors off began again. + +It was the waltz they had played at Roger's when Irene had danced with +Bosinney; and the perfume of the gardenias she had worn came back to +Soames, drifted by the malicious music, as it had been drifted to him +then, when she passed, her hair glistening, her eyes so soft, drawing +Bosinney on and on down an endless ballroom. + +The organ woman plied her handle slowly; she had been grinding her tune +all day-grinding it in Sloane Street hard by, grinding it perhaps to +Bosinney himself. + +Soames turned, took a cigarette from the carven box, and walked back to +the window. The tune had mesmerized him, and there came into his view +Irene, her sunshade furled, hastening homewards down the Square, in a +soft, rose-coloured blouse with drooping sleeves, that he did not know. +She stopped before the organ, took out her purse, and gave the woman +money. + +Soames shrank back and stood where he could see into the hall. + +She came in with her latch-key, put down her sunshade, and stood looking +at herself in the glass. Her cheeks were flushed as if the sun had +burned them; her lips were parted in a smile. She stretched her arms out +as though to embrace herself, with a laugh that for all the world was +like a sob. + +Soames stepped forward. + +"Very-pretty!" he said. + +But as though shot she spun round, and would have passed him up the +stairs. He barred the way. + +"Why such a hurry?" he said, and his eyes fastened on a curl of hair +fallen loose across her ear.... + +He hardly recognised her. She seemed on fire, so deep and rich the +colour of her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, and of the unusual blouse she +wore. + +She put up her hand and smoothed back the curl. She was breathing fast +and deep, as though she had been running, and with every breath perfume +seemed to come from her hair, and from her body, like perfume from an +opening flower. + +"I don't like that blouse," he said slowly, "it's a soft, shapeless +thing!" + +He lifted his finger towards her breast, but she dashed his hand aside. + +"Don't touch me!" she cried. + +He caught her wrist; she wrenched it away. + +"And where may you have been?" he asked. + +"In heaven--out of this house!" With those words she fled upstairs. + +Outside--in thanksgiving--at the very door, the organ-grinder was playing +the waltz. + +And Soames stood motionless. What prevented him from following her? + +Was it that, with the eyes of faith, he saw Bosinney looking down from +that high window in Sloane Street, straining his eyes for yet another +glimpse of Irene's vanished figure, cooling his flushed face, dreaming of +the moment when she flung herself on his breast--the scent of her still +in the air around, and the sound of her laugh that was like a sob? + + + + +PART III + + + + +CHAPTER I + +Mrs. MACANDER'S EVIDENCE + +Many people, no doubt, including the editor of the 'Ultra +Vivisectionist,' then in the bloom of its first youth, would say that +Soames was less than a man not to have removed the locks from his wife's +doors, and, after beating her soundly, resumed wedded happiness. + +Brutality is not so deplorably diluted by humaneness as it used to be, +yet a sentimental segment of the population may still be relieved to +learn that he did none of these things. For active brutality is not +popular with Forsytes; they are too circumspect, and, on the whole, too +softhearted. And in Soames there was some common pride, not sufficient +to make him do a really generous action, but enough to prevent his +indulging in an extremely mean one, except, perhaps, in very hot blood. +Above all this a true Forsyte refused to feel himself ridiculous. Short +of actually beating his wife, he perceived nothing to be done; he +therefore accepted the situation without another word. + +Throughout the summer and autumn he continued to go to the office, to +sort his pictures, and ask his friends to dinner. + +He did not leave town; Irene refused to go away. The house at Robin +Hill, finished though it was, remained empty and ownerless. Soames had +brought a suit against the Buccaneer, in which he claimed from him the +sum of three hundred and fifty pounds. + +A firm of solicitors, Messrs. Freak and Able, had put in a defence on +Bosinney's behalf. Admitting the facts, they raised a point on the +correspondence which, divested of legal phraseology, amounted to this: To +speak of 'a free hand in the terms of this correspondence' is an Irish +bull. + +By a chance, fortuitous but not improbable in the close borough of legal +circles, a good deal of information came to Soames' ear anent this line +of policy, the working partner in his firm, Bustard, happening to sit +next at dinner at Walmisley's, the Taxing Master, to young Chankery, of +the Common Law Bar. + +The necessity for talking what is known as 'shop,' which comes on all +lawyers with the removal of the ladies, caused Chankery, a young and +promising advocate, to propound an impersonal conundrum to his neighbour, +whose name he did not know, for, seated as he permanently was in the +background, Bustard had practically no name. + +He had, said Chankery, a case coming on with a 'very nice point.' He then +explained, preserving every professional discretion, the riddle in +Soames' case. Everyone, he said, to whom he had spoken, thought it a +nice point. The issue was small unfortunately, 'though d----d serious +for his client he believed'--Walmisley's champagne was bad but plentiful. +A Judge would make short work of it, he was afraid. He intended to make +a big effort--the point was a nice one. What did his neighbour say? + +Bustard, a model of secrecy, said nothing. He related the incident to +Soames however with some malice, for this quiet man was capable of human +feeling, ending with his own opinion that the point was 'a very nice +one.' + +In accordance with his resolve, our Forsyte had put his interests into +the hands of Jobling and Boulter. From the moment of doing so he +regretted that he had not acted for himself. On receiving a copy of +Bosinney's defence he went over to their offices. + +Boulter, who had the matter in hand, Jobling having died some years +before, told him that in his opinion it was rather a nice point; he would +like counsel's opinion on it. + +Soames told him to go to a good man, and they went to Waterbuck, Q.C., +marking him ten and one, who kept the papers six weeks and then wrote as +follows: + +'In my opinion the true interpretation of this correspondence depends +very much on the intention of the parties, and will turn upon the +evidence given at the trial. I am of opinion that an attempt should be +made to secure from the architect an admission that he understood he was +not to spend at the outside more than twelve thousand and fifty pounds. +With regard to the expression, "a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence," to which my attention is directed, the point is a nice +one; but I am of opinion that upon the whole the ruling in "Boileau v. +The Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.," will apply.' + +Upon this opinion they acted, administering interrogatories, but to their +annoyance Messrs. Freak and Able answered these in so masterly a fashion +that nothing whatever was admitted and that without prejudice. + +It was on October 1 that Soames read Waterbuck's opinion, in the +dining-room before dinner. + +It made him nervous; not so much because of the case of 'Boileau v. The +Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.,' as that the point had lately begun to seem to +him, too, a nice one; there was about it just that pleasant flavour of +subtlety so attractive to the best legal appetites. To have his own +impression confirmed by Waterbuck, Q.C., would have disturbed any man. + +He sat thinking it over, and staring at the empty grate, for though +autumn had come, the weather kept as gloriously fine that jubilee year as +if it were still high August. It was not pleasant to be disturbed; he +desired too passionately to set his foot on Bosinney's neck. + +Though he had not seen the architect since the last afternoon at Robin +Hill, he was never free from the sense of his presence--never free from +the memory of his worn face with its high cheek bones and enthusiastic +eyes. It would not be too much to say that he had never got rid of the +feeling of that night when he heard the peacock's cry at dawn--the +feeling that Bosinney haunted the house. And every man's shape that he +saw in the dark evenings walking past, seemed that of him whom George had +so appropriately named the Buccaneer. + +Irene still met him, he was certain; where, or how, he neither knew, nor +asked; deterred by a vague and secret dread of too much knowledge. It +all seemed subterranean nowadays. + +Sometimes when he questioned his wife as to where she had been, which he +still made a point of doing, as every Forsyte should, she looked very +strange. Her self-possession was wonderful, but there were moments when, +behind the mask of her face, inscrutable as it had always been to him, +lurked an expression he had never been used to see there. + +She had taken to lunching out too; when he asked Bilson if her mistress +had been in to lunch, as often as not she would answer: "No, sir." + +He strongly disapproved of her gadding about by herself, and told her so. +But she took no notice. There was something that angered, amazed, yet +almost amused him about the calm way in which she disregarded his wishes. +It was really as if she were hugging to herself the thought of a triumph +over him. + +He rose from the perusal of Waterbuck, Q.C.'s opinion, and, going +upstairs, entered her room, for she did not lock her doors till +bed-time--she had the decency, he found, to save the feelings of the +servants. She was brushing her hair, and turned to him with strange +fierceness. + +"What do you want?" she said. "Please leave my room!" + +He answered: "I want to know how long this state of things between us is +to last? I have put up with it long enough." + +"Will you please leave my room?" + +"Will you treat me as your husband?" + +"No." + +"Then, I shall take steps to make you." + +"Do!" + +He stared, amazed at the calmness of her answer. Her lips were +compressed in a thin line; her hair lay in fluffy masses on her bare +shoulders, in all its strange golden contrast to her dark eyes--those +eyes alive with the emotions of fear, hate, contempt, and odd, haunting +triumph. + +"Now, please, will you leave my room?" He turned round, and went sulkily +out. + +He knew very well that he had no intention of taking steps, and he saw +that she knew too--knew that he was afraid to. + +It was a habit with him to tell her the doings of his day: how such and +such clients had called; how he had arranged a mortgage for Parkes; how +that long-standing suit of Fryer v. Forsyte was getting on, which, +arising in the preternaturally careful disposition of his property by his +great uncle Nicholas, who had tied it up so that no one could get at it +at all, seemed likely to remain a source of income for several solicitors +till the Day of Judgment. + +And how he had called in at Jobson's, and seen a Boucher sold, which he +had just missed buying of Talleyrand and Sons in Pall Mall. + +He had an admiration for Boucher, Watteau, and all that school. It was a +habit with him to tell her all these matters, and he continued to do it +even now, talking for long spells at dinner, as though by the volubility +of words he could conceal from himself the ache in his heart. + +Often, if they were alone, he made an attempt to kiss her when she said +good-night. He may have had some vague notion that some night she would +let him; or perhaps only the feeling that a husband ought to kiss his +wife. Even if she hated him, he at all events ought not to put himself +in the wrong by neglecting this ancient rite. + +And why did she hate him? Even now he could not altogether believe it. +It was strange to be hated!--the emotion was too extreme; yet he hated +Bosinney, that Buccaneer, that prowling vagabond, that night-wanderer. +For in his thoughts Soames always saw him lying in wait--wandering. Ah, +but he must be in very low water! Young Burkitt, the architect, had seen +him coming out of a third-rate restaurant, looking terribly down in the +mouth! + +During all the hours he lay awake, thinking over the situation, which +seemed to have no end--unless she should suddenly come to her +senses--never once did the thought of separating from his wife seriously +enter his head.... + +And the Forsytes! What part did they play in this stage of Soames' +subterranean tragedy? + +Truth to say, little or none, for they were at the sea. + +From hotels, hydropathics, or lodging-houses, they were bathing daily; +laying in a stock of ozone to last them through the winter. + +Each section, in the vineyard of its own choosing, grew and culled and +pressed and bottled the grapes of a pet sea-air. + +The end of September began to witness their several returns. + +In rude health and small omnibuses, with considerable colour in their +cheeks, they arrived daily from the various termini. The following +morning saw them back at their vocations. + +On the next Sunday Timothy's was thronged from lunch till dinner. + +Amongst other gossip, too numerous and interesting to relate, Mrs. +Septimus Small mentioned that Soames and Irene had not been away. + +It remained for a comparative outsider to supply the next evidence of +interest. + +It chanced that one afternoon late in September, Mrs. MacAnder, Winifred +Dartie's greatest friend, taking a constitutional, with young Augustus +Flippard, on her bicycle in Richmond Park, passed Irene and Bosinney +walking from the bracken towards the Sheen Gate. + +Perhaps the poor little woman was thirsty, for she had ridden long on a +hard, dry road, and, as all London knows, to ride a bicycle and talk to +young Flippard will try the toughest constitution; or perhaps the sight +of the cool bracken grove, whence 'those two' were coming down, excited +her envy. The cool bracken grove on the top of the hill, with the oak +boughs for roof, where the pigeons were raising an endless wedding hymn, +and the autumn, humming, whispered to the ears of lovers in the fern, +while the deer stole by. The bracken grove of irretrievable delights, of +golden minutes in the long marriage of heaven and earth! The bracken +grove, sacred to stags, to strange tree-stump fauns leaping around the +silver whiteness of a birch-tree nymph at summer dusk. + +This lady knew all the Forsytes, and having been at June's 'at home,' was +not at a loss to see with whom she had to deal. Her own marriage, poor +thing, had not been successful, but having had the good sense and ability +to force her husband into pronounced error, she herself had passed +through the necessary divorce proceedings without incurring censure. + +She was therefore a judge of all that sort of thing, and lived in one of +those large buildings, where in small sets of apartments, are gathered +incredible quantities of Forsytes, whose chief recreation out of business +hours is the discussion of each other's affairs. + +Poor little woman, perhaps she was thirsty, certainly she was bored, for +Flippard was a wit. To see 'those two' in so unlikely a spot was quite a +merciful 'pick-me-up.' + +At the MacAnder, like all London, Time pauses. + +This small but remarkable woman merits attention; her all-seeing eye and +shrewd tongue were inscrutably the means of furthering the ends of +Providence. + +With an air of being in at the death, she had an almost distressing power +of taking care of herself. She had done more, perhaps, in her way than +any woman about town to destroy the sense of chivalry which still clogs +the wheel of civilization. So smart she was, and spoken of endearingly as +'the little MacAnder!' + +Dressing tightly and well, she belonged to a Woman's Club, but was by no +means the neurotic and dismal type of member who was always thinking of +her rights. She took her rights unconsciously, they came natural to her, +and she knew exactly how to make the most of them without exciting +anything but admiration amongst that great class to whom she was +affiliated, not precisely perhaps by manner, but by birth, breeding, and +the true, the secret gauge, a sense of property. + +The daughter of a Bedfordshire solicitor, by the daughter of a clergyman, +she had never, through all the painful experience of being married to a +very mild painter with a cranky love of Nature, who had deserted her for +an actress, lost touch with the requirements, beliefs, and inner feeling +of Society; and, on attaining her liberty, she placed herself without +effort in the very van of Forsyteism. + +Always in good spirits, and 'full of information,' she was universally +welcomed. She excited neither surprise nor disapprobation when +encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, either alone, or travelling with +a lady and two gentlemen; it was felt that she was perfectly capable of +taking care of herself; and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that +wonderful instinct, which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving +anything away. It was generally felt that to such women as Mrs. MacAnder +should we look for the perpetuation and increase of our best type of +woman. She had never had any children. + +If there was one thing more than another that she could not stand it was +one of those soft women with what men called 'charm' about them, and for +Mrs. Soames she always had an especial dislike. + +Obscurely, no doubt, she felt that if charm were once admitted as the +criterion, smartness and capability must go to the wall; and she +hated--with a hatred the deeper that at times this so-called charm seemed +to disturb all calculations--the subtle seductiveness which she could not +altogether overlook in Irene. + +She said, however, that she could see nothing in the woman--there was no +'go' about her--she would never be able to stand up for herself--anyone +could take advantage of her, that was plain--she could not see in fact +what men found to admire! + +She was not really ill-natured, but, in maintaining her position after +the trying circumstances of her married life, she had found it so +necessary to be 'full of information,' that the idea of holding her +tongue about 'those two' in the Park never occurred to her. + +And it so happened that she was dining that very evening at Timothy's, +where she went sometimes to 'cheer the old things up,' as she was wont to +put it. The same people were always asked to meet her: Winifred Dartie +and her husband; Francie, because she belonged to the artistic circles, +for Mrs. MacAnder was known to contribute articles on dress to 'The +Ladies Kingdom Come'; and for her to flirt with, provided they could be +obtained, two of the Hayman boys, who, though they never said anything, +were believed to be fast and thoroughly intimate with all that was latest +in smart Society. + +At twenty-five minutes past seven she turned out the electric light in +her little hall, and wrapped in her opera cloak with the chinchilla +collar, came out into the corridor, pausing a moment to make sure she had +her latch-key. These little self-contained flats were convenient; to be +sure, she had no light and no air, but she could shut it up whenever she +liked and go away. There was no bother with servants, and she never felt +tied as she used to when poor, dear Fred was always about, in his mooney +way. She retained no rancour against poor, dear Fred, he was such a +fool; but the thought of that actress drew from her, even now, a little, +bitter, derisive smile. + +Firmly snapping the door to, she crossed the corridor, with its gloomy, +yellow-ochre walls, and its infinite vista of brown, numbered doors. The +lift was going down; and wrapped to the ears in the high cloak, with +every one of her auburn hairs in its place, she waited motionless for it +to stop at her floor. The iron gates clanked open; she entered. There +were already three occupants, a man in a great white waistcoat, with a +large, smooth face like a baby's, and two old ladies in black, with +mittened hands. + +Mrs. MacAnder smiled at them; she knew everybody; and all these three, +who had been admirably silent before, began to talk at once. This was +Mrs. MacAnder's successful secret. She provoked conversation. + +Throughout a descent of five stories the conversation continued, the lift +boy standing with his back turned, his cynical face protruding through +the bars. + +At the bottom they separated, the man in the white waistcoat +sentimentally to the billiard room, the old ladies to dine and say to +each other: "A dear little woman!" "Such a rattle!" and Mrs. MacAnder to +her cab. + +When Mrs. MacAnder dined at Timothy's, the conversation (although Timothy +himself could never be induced to be present) took that wider, +man-of-the-world tone current among Forsytes at large, and this, no +doubt, was what put her at a premium there. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester found it an exhilarating change. "If only," +they said, "Timothy would meet her!" It was felt that she would do him +good. She could tell you, for instance, the latest story of Sir Charles +Fiste's son at Monte Carlo; who was the real heroine of Tynemouth Eddy's +fashionable novel that everyone was holding up their hands over, and what +they were doing in Paris about wearing bloomers. She was so sensible, +too, knowing all about that vexed question, whether to send young +Nicholas' eldest into the navy as his mother wished, or make him an +accountant as his father thought would be safer. She strongly deprecated +the navy. If you were not exceptionally brilliant or exceptionally well +connected, they passed you over so disgracefully, and what was it after +all to look forward to, even if you became an admiral--a pittance! An +accountant had many more chances, but let him be put with a good firm, +where there was no risk at starting! + +Sometimes she would give them a tip on the Stock Exchange; not that Mrs. +Small or Aunt Hester ever took it. They had indeed no money to invest; +but it seemed to bring them into such exciting touch with the realities +of life. It was an event. They would ask Timothy, they said. But they +never did, knowing in advance that it would upset him. Surreptitiously, +however, for weeks after they would look in that paper, which they took +with respect on account of its really fashionable proclivities, to see +whether 'Bright's Rubies' or 'The Woollen Mackintosh Company' were up or +down. Sometimes they could not find the name of the company at all; and +they would wait until James or Roger or even Swithin came in, and ask +them in voices trembling with curiosity how that 'Bolivia Lime and +Speltrate' was doing--they could not find it in the paper. + +And Roger would answer: "What do you want to know for? Some trash! +You'll go burning your fingers--investing your money in lime, and things +you know nothing about! Who told you?" and ascertaining what they had +been told, he would go away, and, making inquiries in the City, would +perhaps invest some of his own money in the concern. + +It was about the middle of dinner, just in fact as the saddle of mutton +had been brought in by Smither, that Mrs. MacAnder, looking airily round, +said: "Oh! and whom do you think I passed to-day in Richmond Park? +You'll never guess--Mrs. Soames and--Mr. Bosinney. They must have been +down to look at the house!" + +Winifred Dartie coughed, and no one said a word. It was the piece of +evidence they had all unconsciously been waiting for. + +To do Mrs. MacAnder justice, she had been to Switzerland and the Italian +lakes with a party of three, and had not heard of Soames' rupture with +his architect. She could not tell, therefore, the profound impression +her words would make. + +Upright and a little flushed, she moved her small, shrewd eyes from face +to face, trying to gauge the effect of her words. On either side of her +a Hayman boy, his lean, taciturn, hungry face turned towards his plate, +ate his mutton steadily. + +These two, Giles and Jesse, were so alike and so inseparable that they +were known as the Dromios. They never talked, and seemed always +completely occupied in doing nothing. It was popularly supposed that +they were cramming for an important examination. They walked without hats +for long hours in the Gardens attached to their house, books in their +hands, a fox-terrier at their heels, never saying a word, and smoking all +the time. Every morning, about fifty yards apart, they trotted down +Campden Hill on two lean hacks, with legs as long as their own, and every +morning about an hour later, still fifty yards apart, they cantered up +again. Every evening, wherever they had dined, they might be observed +about half-past ten, leaning over the balustrade of the Alhambra +promenade. + +They were never seen otherwise than together; in this way passing their +lives, apparently perfectly content. + +Inspired by some dumb stirring within them of the feelings of gentlemen, +they turned at this painful moment to Mrs. MacAnder, and said in +precisely the same voice: "Have you seen the...?" + +Such was her surprise at being thus addressed that she put down her fork; +and Smither, who was passing, promptly removed her plate. Mrs. MacAnder, +however, with presence of mind, said instantly: "I must have a little +more of that nice mutton." + +But afterwards in the drawing--room she sat down by Mrs. Small, +determined to get to the bottom of the matter. And she began: + +"What a charming woman, Mrs. Soames; such a sympathetic temperament! +Soames is a really lucky man!" + +Her anxiety for information had not made sufficient allowance for that +inner Forsyte skin which refuses to share its troubles with outsiders. + +Mrs. Septimus Small, drawing herself up with a creak and rustle of her +whole person, said, shivering in her dignity: + +"My dear, it is a subject we do not talk about!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +NIGHT IN THE PARK + +Although with her infallible instinct Mrs. Small had said the very thing +to make her guest 'more intriguee than ever,' it is difficult to see how +else she could truthfully have spoken. + +It was not a subject which the Forsytes could talk about even among +themselves--to use the word Soames had invented to characterize to +himself the situation, it was 'subterranean.' + +Yet, within a week of Mrs. MacAnder's encounter in Richmond Park, to all +of them--save Timothy, from whom it was carefully kept--to James on his +domestic beat from the Poultry to Park Lane, to George the wild one, on +his daily adventure from the bow window at the Haversnake to the billiard +room at the 'Red Pottle,' was it known that 'those two' had gone to +extremes. + +George (it was he who invented many of those striking expressions still +current in fashionable circles) voiced the sentiment more accurately than +any one when he said to his brother Eustace that 'the Buccaneer' was +'going it'; he expected Soames was about 'fed up.' + +It was felt that he must be, and yet, what could be done? He ought +perhaps to take steps; but to take steps would be deplorable. + +Without an open scandal which they could not see their way to +recommending, it was difficult to see what steps could be taken. In this +impasse, the only thing was to say nothing to Soames, and nothing to each +other; in fact, to pass it over. + +By displaying towards Irene a dignified coldness, some impression might +be made upon her; but she was seldom now to be seen, and there seemed a +slight difficulty in seeking her out on purpose to show her coldness. +Sometimes in the privacy of his bedroom James would reveal to Emily the +real suffering that his son's misfortune caused him. + +"I can't tell," he would say; "it worries me out of my life. There'll be +a scandal, and that'll do him no good. I shan't say anything to him. +There might be nothing in it. What do you think? She's very artistic, +they tell me. What? Oh, you're a 'regular Juley! Well, I don't know; I +expect the worst. This is what comes of having no children. I knew how +it would be from the first. They never told me they didn't mean to have +any children--nobody tells me anything!" + +On his knees by the side of the bed, his eyes open and fixed with worry, +he would breathe into the counterpane. Clad in his nightshirt, his neck +poked forward, his back rounded, he resembled some long white bird. + +"Our Father-," he repeated, turning over and over again the thought of +this possible scandal. + +Like old Jolyon, he, too, at the bottom of his heart set the blame of the +tragedy down to family interference. What business had that lot--he +began to think of the Stanhope Gate branch, including young Jolyon and +his daughter, as 'that lot'--to introduce a person like this Bosinney +into the family? (He had heard George's soubriquet, 'The Buccaneer,' but +he could make nothing of that--the young man was an architect.) + +He began to feel that his brother Jolyon, to whom he had always looked up +and on whose opinion he had relied, was not quite what he had expected. + +Not having his eldest brother's force of character, he was more sad than +angry. His great comfort was to go to Winifred's, and take the little +Darties in his carriage over to Kensington Gardens, and there, by the +Round Pond, he could often be seen walking with his eyes fixed anxiously +on little Publius Dartie's sailing-boat, which he had himself freighted +with a penny, as though convinced that it would never again come to +shore; while little Publius--who, James delighted to say, was not a bit +like his father skipping along under his lee, would try to get him to bet +another that it never would, having found that it always did. And James +would make the bet; he always paid--sometimes as many as three or four +pennies in the afternoon, for the game seemed never to pall on little +Publius--and always in paying he said: "Now, that's for your money-box. +Why, you're getting quite a rich man!" The thought of his little +grandson's growing wealth was a real pleasure to him. But little Publius +knew a sweet-shop, and a trick worth two of that. + +And they would walk home across the Park, James' figure, with high +shoulders and absorbed and worried face, exercising its tall, lean +protectorship, pathetically unregarded, over the robust child-figures of +Imogen and little Publius. + +But those Gardens and that Park were not sacred to James. Forsytes and +tramps, children and lovers, rested and wandered day after day, night +after night, seeking one and all some freedom from labour, from the reek +and turmoil of the streets. + +The leaves browned slowly, lingering with the sun and summer-like warmth +of the nights. + +On Saturday, October 5, the sky that had been blue all day deepened after +sunset to the bloom of purple grapes. There was no moon, and a clear +dark, like some velvety garment, was wrapped around the trees, whose +thinned branches, resembling plumes, stirred not in the still, warm air. +All London had poured into the Park, draining the cup of summer to its +dregs. + +Couple after couple, from every gate, they streamed along the paths and +over the burnt grass, and one after another, silently out of the lighted +spaces, stole into the shelter of the feathery trees, where, blotted +against some trunk, or under the shadow of shrubs, they were lost to all +but themselves in the heart of the soft darkness. + +To fresh-comers along the paths, these forerunners formed but part of +that passionate dusk, whence only a strange murmur, like the confused +beating of hearts, came forth. But when that murmur reached each couple +in the lamp-light their voices wavered, and ceased; their arms enlaced, +their eyes began seeking, searching, probing the blackness. Suddenly, as +though drawn by invisible hands, they, too, stepped over the railing, +and, silent as shadows, were gone from the light. + +The stillness, enclosed in the far, inexorable roar of the town, was +alive with the myriad passions, hopes, and loves of multitudes of +struggling human atoms; for in spite of the disapproval of that great +body of Forsytes, the Municipal Council--to whom Love had long been +considered, next to the Sewage Question, the gravest danger to the +community--a process was going on that night in the Park, and in a +hundred other parks, without which the thousand factories, churches, +shops, taxes, and drains, of which they were custodians, were as arteries +without blood, a man without a heart. + +The instincts of self-forgetfulness, of passion, and of love, hiding +under the trees, away from the trustees of their remorseless enemy, the +'sense of property,' were holding a stealthy revel, and Soames, returning +from Bayswater for he had been alone to dine at Timothy's walking home +along the water, with his mind upon that coming lawsuit, had the blood +driven from his heart by a low laugh and the sound of kisses. He thought +of writing to the Times the next morning, to draw the attention of the +Editor to the condition of our parks. He did not, however, for he had a +horror of seeing his name in print. + +But starved as he was, the whispered sounds in the stillness, the +half-seen forms in the dark, acted on him like some morbid stimulant. He +left the path along the water and stole under the trees, along the deep +shadow of little plantations, where the boughs of chestnut trees hung +their great leaves low, and there was blacker refuge, shaping his course +in circles which had for their object a stealthy inspection of chairs +side by side, against tree-trunks, of enlaced lovers, who stirred at his +approach. + +Now he stood still on the rise overlooking the Serpentine, where, in full +lamp-light, black against the silver water, sat a couple who never moved, +the woman's face buried on the man's neck--a single form, like a carved +emblem of passion, silent and unashamed. + +And, stung by the sight, Soames hurried on deeper into the shadow of the +trees. + +In this search, who knows what he thought and what he sought? Bread for +hunger--light in darkness? Who knows what he expected to +find--impersonal knowledge of the human heart--the end of his private +subterranean tragedy--for, again, who knew, but that each dark couple, +unnamed, unnameable, might not be he and she? + +But it could not be such knowledge as this that he was seeking--the wife +of Soames Forsyte sitting in the Park like a common wench! Such thoughts +were inconceivable; and from tree to tree, with his noiseless step, he +passed. + +Once he was sworn at; once the whisper, "If only it could always be like +this!" sent the blood flying again from his heart, and he waited there, +patient and dogged, for the two to move. But it was only a poor thin +slip of a shop-girl in her draggled blouse who passed him, clinging to +her lover's arm. + +A hundred other lovers too whispered that hope in the stillness of the +trees, a hundred other lovers clung to each other. + +But shaking himself with sudden disgust, Soames returned to the path, and +left that seeking for he knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MEETING AT THE BOTANICAL + +Young Jolyon, whose circumstances were not those of a Forsyte, found at +times a difficulty in sparing the money needful for those country jaunts +and researches into Nature, without having prosecuted which no +watercolour artist ever puts brush to paper. + +He was frequently, in fact, obliged to take his colour-box into the +Botanical Gardens, and there, on his stool, in the shade of a +monkey-puzzler or in the lee of some India-rubber plant, he would spend +long hours sketching. + +An Art critic who had recently been looking at his work had delivered +himself as follows: + +"In a way your drawings are very good; tone and colour, in some of them +certainly quite a feeling for Nature. But, you see, they're so +scattered; you'll never get the public to look at them. Now, if you'd +taken a definite subject, such as 'London by Night,' or 'The Crystal +Palace in the Spring,' and made a regular series, the public would have +known at once what they were looking at. I can't lay too much stress +upon that. All the men who are making great names in Art, like Crum +Stone or Bleeder, are making them by avoiding the unexpected; by +specializing and putting their works all in the same pigeon-hole, so that +the public know pat once where to go. And this stands to reason, for if +a man's a collector he doesn't want people to smell at the canvas to find +out whom his pictures are by; he wants them to be able to say at once, 'A +capital Forsyte!' It is all the more important for you to be careful to +choose a subject that they can lay hold of on the spot, since there's no +very marked originality in your style." + +Young Jolyon, standing by the little piano, where a bowl of dried rose +leaves, the only produce of the garden, was deposited on a bit of faded +damask, listened with his dim smile. + +Turning to his wife, who was looking at the speaker with an angry +expression on her thin face, he said: + +"You see, dear?" + +"I do not," she answered in her staccato voice, that still had a little +foreign accent; "your style has originality." + +The critic looked at her, smiled' deferentially, and said no more. Like +everyone else, he knew their history. + +The words bore good fruit with young Jolyon; they were contrary to all +that he believed in, to all that he theoretically held good in his Art, +but some strange, deep instinct moved him against his will to turn them +to profit. + +He discovered therefore one morning that an idea had come to him for +making a series of watercolour drawings of London. How the idea had +arisen he could not tell; and it was not till the following year, when he +had completed and sold them at a very fair price, that in one of his +impersonal moods, he found himself able to recollect the Art critic, and +to discover in his own achievement another proof that he was a Forsyte. + +He decided to commence with the Botanical Gardens, where he had already +made so many studies, and chose the little artificial pond, sprinkled now +with an autumn shower of red and yellow leaves, for though the gardeners +longed to sweep them off, they could not reach them with their brooms. +The rest of the gardens they swept bare enough, removing every morning +Nature's rain of leaves; piling them in heaps, whence from slow fires +rose the sweet, acrid smoke that, like the cuckoo's note for spring, the +scent of lime trees for the summer, is the true emblem of the fall. The +gardeners' tidy souls could not abide the gold and green and russet +pattern on the grass. The gravel paths must lie unstained, ordered, +methodical, without knowledge of the realities of life, nor of that slow +and beautiful decay which flings crowns underfoot to star the earth with +fallen glories, whence, as the cycle rolls, will leap again wild spring. + +Thus each leaf that fell was marked from the moment when it fluttered a +good-bye and dropped, slow turning, from its twig. + +But on that little pond the leaves floated in peace, and praised Heaven +with their hues, the sunlight haunting over them. + +And so young Jolyon found them. + +Coming there one morning in the middle of October, he was disconcerted to +find a bench about twenty paces from his stand occupied, for he had a +proper horror of anyone seeing him at work. + +A lady in a velvet jacket was sitting there, with her eyes fixed on the +ground. A flowering laurel, however, stood between, and, taking shelter +behind this, young Jolyon prepared his easel. + +His preparations were leisurely; he caught, as every true artist should, +at anything that might delay for a moment the effort of his work, and he +found himself looking furtively at this unknown dame. + +Like his father before him, he had an eye for a face. This face was +charming! + +He saw a rounded chin nestling in a cream ruffle, a delicate face with +large dark eyes and soft lips. A black 'picture' hat concealed the hair; +her figure was lightly poised against the back of the bench, her knees +were crossed; the tip of a patent-leather shoe emerged beneath her skirt. +There was something, indeed, inexpressibly dainty about the person of +this lady, but young Jolyon's attention was chiefly riveted by the look +on her face, which reminded him of his wife. It was as though its owner +had come into contact with forces too strong for her. It troubled him, +arousing vague feelings of attraction and chivalry. Who was she? And +what doing there, alone? + +Two young gentlemen of that peculiar breed, at once forward and shy, +found in the Regent's Park, came by on their way to lawn tennis, and he +noted with disapproval their furtive stares of admiration. A loitering +gardener halted to do something unnecessary to a clump of pampas grass; +he, too, wanted an excuse for peeping. A gentleman, old, and, by his +hat, a professor of horticulture, passed three times to scrutinize her +long and stealthily, a queer expression about his lips. + +With all these men young Jolyon felt the same vague irritation. She +looked at none of them, yet was he certain that every man who passed +would look at her like that. + +Her face was not the face of a sorceress, who in every look holds out to +men the offer of pleasure; it had none of the 'devil's beauty' so highly +prized among the first Forsytes of the land; neither was it of that type, +no less adorable, associated with the box of chocolate; it was not of the +spiritually passionate, or passionately spiritual order, peculiar to +house-decoration and modern poetry; nor did it seem to promise to the +playwright material for the production of the interesting and +neurasthenic figure, who commits suicide in the last act. + +In shape and colouring, in its soft persuasive passivity, its sensuous +purity, this woman's face reminded him of Titian's 'Heavenly Love,' a +reproduction of which hung over the sideboard in his dining-room. And +her attraction seemed to be in this soft passivity, in the feeling she +gave that to pressure she must yield. + +For what or whom was she waiting, in the silence, with the trees dropping +here and there a leaf, and the thrushes strutting close on grass, touched +with the sparkle of the autumn rime? Then her charming face grew eager, +and, glancing round, with almost a lover's jealousy, young Jolyon saw +Bosinney striding across the grass. + +Curiously he watched the meeting, the look in their eyes, the long clasp +of their hands. They sat down close together, linked for all their +outward discretion. He heard the rapid murmur of their talk; but what +they said he could not catch. + +He had rowed in the galley himself! He knew the long hours of waiting +and the lean minutes of a half-public meeting; the tortures of suspense +that haunt the unhallowed lover. + +It required, however, but a glance at their two faces to see that this +was none of those affairs of a season that distract men and women about +town; none of those sudden appetites that wake up ravening, and are +surfeited and asleep again in six weeks. This was the real thing! This +was what had happened to himself! Out of this anything might come! + +Bosinney was pleading, and she so quiet, so soft, yet immovable in her +passivity, sat looking over the grass. + +Was he the man to carry her off, that tender, passive being, who would +never stir a step for herself? Who had given him all herself, and would +die for him, but perhaps would never run away with him! + +It seemed to young Jolyon that he could hear her saying: "But, darling, +it would ruin you!" For he himself had experienced to the full the +gnawing fear at the bottom of each woman's heart that she is a drag on +the man she loves. + +And he peeped at them no more; but their soft, rapid talk came to his +ears, with the stuttering song of some bird who seemed trying to remember +the notes of spring: Joy--tragedy? Which--which? + +And gradually their talk ceased; long silence followed. + +'And where does Soames come in?' young Jolyon thought. 'People think she +is concerned about the sin of deceiving her husband! Little they know of +women! She's eating, after starvation--taking her revenge! And Heaven +help her--for he'll take his.' + +He heard the swish of silk, and, spying round the laurel, saw them +walking away, their hands stealthily joined.... + +At the end of July old Jolyon had taken his grand-daughter to the +mountains; and on that visit (the last they ever paid) June recovered to +a great extent her health and spirits. In the hotels, filled with +British Forsytes--for old Jolyon could not bear a 'set of Germans,' as he +called all foreigners--she was looked upon with respect--the only +grand-daughter of that fine-looking, and evidently wealthy, old Mr. +Forsyte. She did not mix freely with people--to mix freely with people +was not June's habit--but she formed some friendships, and notably one in +the Rhone Valley, with a French girl who was dying of consumption. + +Determining at once that her friend should not die, she forgot, in the +institution of a campaign against Death, much of her own trouble. + +Old Jolyon watched the new intimacy with relief and disapproval; for this +additional proof that her life was to be passed amongst 'lame ducks' +worried him. Would she never make a friendship or take an interest in +something that would be of real benefit to her? + +'Taking up with a parcel of foreigners,' he called it. He often, +however, brought home grapes or roses, and presented them to 'Mam'zelle' +with an ingratiating twinkle. + +Towards the end of September, in spite of June's disapproval, +Mademoiselle Vigor breathed her last in the little hotel at St. Luc, to +which they had moved her; and June took her defeat so deeply to heart +that old Jolyon carried her away to Paris. Here, in contemplation of the +'Venus de Milo' and the 'Madeleine,' she shook off her depression, and +when, towards the middle of October, they returned to town, her +grandfather believed that he had effected a cure. + +No sooner, however, had they established themselves in Stanhope Gate than +he perceived to his dismay a return of her old absorbed and brooding +manner. She would sit, staring in front of her, her chin on her hand, +like a little Norse spirit, grim and intent, while all around in the +electric light, then just installed, shone the great, drawing-room +brocaded up to the frieze, full of furniture from Baple and Pullbred's. +And in the huge gilt mirror were reflected those Dresden china groups of +young men in tight knee breeches, at the feet of full-bosomed ladies +nursing on their laps pet lambs, which old Jolyon had bought when he was +a bachelor and thought so highly of in these days of degenerate taste. +He was a man of most open mind, who, more than any Forsyte of them all, +had moved with the times, but he could never forget that he had bought +these groups at Jobson's, and given a lot of money for them. He often +said to June, with a sort of disillusioned contempt: + +"You don't care about them! They're not the gimcrack things you and your +friends like, but they cost me seventy pounds!" He was not a man who +allowed his taste to be warped when he knew for solid reasons that it was +sound. + +One of the first things that June did on getting home was to go round to +Timothy's. She persuaded herself that it was her duty to call there, and +cheer him with an account of all her travels; but in reality she went +because she knew of no other place where, by some random speech, or +roundabout question, she could glean news of Bosinney. + +They received her most cordially: And how was her dear grandfather? He +had not been to see them since May. Her Uncle Timothy was very poorly, +he had had a lot of trouble with the chimney-sweep in his bedroom; the +stupid man had let the soot down the chimney! It had quite upset her +uncle. + +June sat there a long time, dreading, yet passionately hoping, that they +would speak of Bosinney. + +But paralyzed by unaccountable discretion, Mrs. Septimus Small let fall +no word, neither did she question June about him. In desperation the +girl asked at last whether Soames and Irene were in town--she had not yet +been to see anyone. + +It was Aunt Hester who replied: Oh, yes, they were in town, they had not +been away at all. There was some little difficulty about the house, she +believed. June had heard, no doubt! She had better ask her Aunt Juley! + +June turned to Mrs. Small, who sat upright in her chair, her hands +clasped, her face covered with innumerable pouts. In answer to the +girl's look she maintained a strange silence, and when she spoke it was +to ask June whether she had worn night-socks up in those high hotels +where it must be so cold of a night. + +June answered that she had not, she hated the stuffy things; and rose to +leave. + +Mrs. Small's infallibly chosen silence was far more ominous to her than +anything that could have been said. + +Before half an hour was over she had dragged the truth from Mrs. Baynes +in Lowndes Square, that Soames was bringing an action against Bosinney +over the decoration of the house. + +Instead of disturbing her, the news had a strangely calming effect; as +though she saw in the prospect of this struggle new hope for herself. +She learnt that the case was expected to come on in about a month, and +there seemed little or no prospect of Bosinney's success. + +"And whatever he'll do I can't think," said Mrs. Baynes; "it's very +dreadful for him, you know--he's got no money--he's very hard up. And we +can't help him, I'm sure. I'm told the money-lenders won't lend if you +have no security, and he has none--none at all." + +Her embonpoint had increased of late; she was in the full swing of autumn +organization, her writing-table literally strewn with the menus of +charity functions. She looked meaningly at June, with her round eyes of +parrot-grey. + +The sudden flush that rose on the girl's intent young face--she must have +seen spring up before her a great hope--the sudden sweetness of her +smile, often came back to Lady Baynes in after years (Baynes was knighted +when he built that public Museum of Art which has given so much +employment to officials, and so little pleasure to those working classes +for whom it was designed). + +The memory of that change, vivid and touching, like the breaking open of +a flower, or the first sun after long winter, the memory, too, of all +that came after, often intruded itself, unaccountably, inopportunely on +Lady Baynes, when her mind was set upon the most important things. + +This was the very afternoon of the day that young Jolyon witnessed the +meeting in the Botanical Gardens, and on this day, too, old Jolyon paid a +visit to his solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard, and Forsyte, in the Poultry. +Soames was not in, he had gone down to Somerset House; Bustard was buried +up to the hilt in papers and that inaccessible apartment, where he was +judiciously placed, in order that he might do as much work as possible; +but James was in the front office, biting a finger, and lugubriously +turning over the pleadings in Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +This sound lawyer had only a sort of luxurious dread of the 'nice point,' +enough to set up a pleasurable feeling of fuss; for his good practical +sense told him that if he himself were on the Bench he would not pay much +attention to it. But he was afraid that this Bosinney would go bankrupt +and Soames would have to find the money after all, and costs into the +bargain. And behind this tangible dread there was always that intangible +trouble, lurking in the background, intricate, dim, scandalous, like a +bad dream, and of which this action was but an outward and visible sign. + +He raised his head as old Jolyon came in, and muttered: "How are you, +Jolyon? Haven't seen you for an age. You've been to Switzerland, they +tell me. This young Bosinney, he's got himself into a mess. I knew how +it would be!" He held out the papers, regarding his elder brother with +nervous gloom. + +Old Jolyon read them in silence, and while he read them James looked at +the floor, biting his fingers the while. + +Old Jolyon pitched them down at last, and they fell with a thump amongst +a mass of affidavits in 're Buncombe, deceased,' one of the many branches +of that parent and profitable tree, 'Fryer v. Forsyte.' + +"I don't know what Soames is about," he said, "to make a fuss over a few +hundred pounds. I thought he was a man of property." + +James' long upper lip twitched angrily; he could not bear his son to be +attacked in such a spot. + +"It's not the money," he began, but meeting his brother's glance, direct, +shrewd, judicial, he stopped. + +There was a silence. + +"I've come in for my Will," said old Jolyon at last, tugging at his +moustache. + +James' curiosity was roused at once. Perhaps nothing in this life was +more stimulating to him than a Will; it was the supreme deal with +property, the final inventory of a man's belongings, the last word on +what he was worth. He sounded the bell. + +"Bring in Mr. Jolyon's Will," he said to an anxious, dark-haired clerk. + +"You going to make some alterations?" And through his mind there flashed +the thought: 'Now, am I worth as much as he?' + +Old Jolyon put the Will in his breast pocket, and James twisted his long +legs regretfully. + +"You've made some nice purchases lately, they tell me," he said. + +"I don't know where you get your information from," answered old Jolyon +sharply. "When's this action coming on? Next month? I can't tell what +you've got in your minds. You must manage your own affairs; but if you +take my advice, you'll settle it out of Court. Good-bye!" With a cold +handshake he was gone. + +James, his fixed grey-blue eye corkscrewing round some secret anxious +image, began again to bite his finger. + +Old Jolyon took his Will to the offices of the New Colliery Company, and +sat down in the empty Board Room to read it through. He answered +'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings so tartly when the latter, seeing his +Chairman seated there, entered with the new Superintendent's first +report, that the Secretary withdrew with regretful dignity; and sending +for the transfer clerk, blew him up till the poor youth knew not where to +look. + +It was not--by George--as he (Down-by-the-starn) would have him know, for +a whippersnapper of a young fellow like him, to come down to that office, +and think that he was God Almighty. He (Down-by-the-starn) had been head +of that office for more years than a boy like him could count, and if he +thought that when he had finished all his work, he could sit there doing +nothing, he did not know him, Hemmings (Down-by-the-starn), and so forth. + +On the other side of the green baize door old Jolyon sat at the long, +mahogany-and-leather board table, his thick, loose-jointed, tortoiseshell +eye-glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his gold pencil moving +down the clauses of his Will. + +It was a simple affair, for there were none of those vexatious little +legacies and donations to charities, which fritter away a man's +possessions, and damage the majestic effect of that little paragraph in +the morning papers accorded to Forsytes who die with a hundred thousand +pounds. + +A simple affair. Just a bequest to his son of twenty thousand, and 'as +to the residue of my property of whatsoever kind whether realty or +personalty, or partaking of the nature of either--upon trust to pay the +proceeds rents annual produce dividends or interest thereof and thereon +to my said grand-daughter June Forsyte or her assigns during her life to +be for her sole use and benefit and without, etc... and from and after +her death or decease upon trust to convey assign transfer or make over +the said last-mentioned lands hereditaments premises trust moneys stocks +funds investments and securities or such as shall then stand for and +represent the same unto such person or persons whether one or more for +such intents purposes and uses and generally in such manner way and form +in all respects as the said June Forsyte notwithstanding coverture shall +by her last Will and Testament or any writing or writings in the nature +of a Will testament or testamentary disposition to be by her duly made +signed and published direct appoint or make over give and dispose of the +same And in default etc.... Provided always...' and so on, in seven +folios of brief and simple phraseology. + +The Will had been drawn by James in his palmy days. He had foreseen +almost every contingency. + +Old Jolyon sat a long time reading this Will; at last he took half a +sheet of paper from the rack, and made a prolonged pencil note; then +buttoning up the Will, he caused a cab to be called and drove to the +offices of Paramor and Herring, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Jack Herring +was dead, but his nephew was still in the firm, and old Jolyon was +closeted with him for half an hour. + +He had kept the hansom, and on coming out, gave the driver the +address--3, Wistaria Avenue. + +He felt a strange, slow satisfaction, as though he had scored a victory +over James and the man of property. They should not poke their noses +into his affairs any more; he had just cancelled their trusteeships of +his Will; he would take the whole of his business out of their hands, and +put it into the hands of young Herring, and he would move the business of +his Companies too. If that young Soames were such a man of property, he +would never miss a thousand a year or so; and under his great white +moustache old Jolyon grimly smiled. He felt that what he was doing was +in the nature of retributive justice, richly deserved. + +Slowly, surely, with the secret inner process that works the destruction +of an old tree, the poison of the wounds to his happiness, his will, his +pride, had corroded the comely edifice of his philosophy. Life had worn +him down on one side, till, like that family of which he was the head, he +had lost balance. + +To him, borne northwards towards his son's house, the thought of the new +disposition of property, which he had just set in motion, appeared +vaguely in the light of a stroke of punishment, levelled at that family +and that Society, of which James and his son seemed to him the +representatives. He had made a restitution to young Jolyon, and +restitution to young Jolyon satisfied his secret craving for +revenge-revenge against Time, sorrow, and interference, against all that +incalculable sum of disapproval that had been bestowed by the world for +fifteen years on his only son. It presented itself as the one possible +way of asserting once more the domination of his will; of forcing James, +and Soames, and the family, and all those hidden masses of Forsytes--a +great stream rolling against the single dam of his obstinacy--to +recognise once and for all that he would be master. It was sweet to +think that at last he was going to make the boy a richer man by far than +that son of James, that 'man of property.' And it was sweet to give to +Jo, for he loved his son. + +Neither young Jolyon nor his wife were in (young Jolyon indeed was not +back from the Botanical), but the little maid told him that she expected +the master at any moment: + +"He's always at 'ome to tea, sir, to play with the children." + +Old Jolyon said he would wait; and sat down patiently enough in the +faded, shabby drawing room, where, now that the summer chintzes were +removed, the old chairs and sofas revealed all their threadbare +deficiencies. He longed to send for the children; to have them there +beside him, their supple bodies against his knees; to hear Jolly's: +"Hallo, Gran!" and see his rush; and feel Holly's soft little hand +stealing up against his cheek. But he would not. There was solemnity in +what he had come to do, and until it was over he would not play. He +amused himself by thinking how with two strokes of his pen he was going +to restore the look of caste so conspicuously absent from everything in +that little house; how he could fill these rooms, or others in some +larger mansion, with triumphs of art from Baple and Pullbred's; how he +could send little Jolly to Harrow and Oxford (he no longer had faith in +Eton and Cambridge, for his son had been there); how he could procure +little Holly the best musical instruction, the child had a remarkable +aptitude. + +As these visions crowded before him, causing emotion to swell his heart, +he rose, and stood at the window, looking down into the little walled +strip of garden, where the pear-tree, bare of leaves before its time, +stood with gaunt branches in the slow-gathering mist of the autumn +afternoon. The dog Balthasar, his tail curled tightly over a piebald, +furry back, was walking at the farther end, sniffing at the plants, and +at intervals placing his leg for support against the wall. + +And old Jolyon mused. + +What pleasure was there left but to give? It was pleasant to give, when +you could find one who would be thankful for what you gave--one of your +own flesh and blood! There was no such satisfaction to be had out of +giving to those who did not belong to you, to those who had no claim on +you! Such giving as that was a betrayal of the individualistic +convictions and actions of his life, of all his enterprise, his labour, +and his moderation, of the great and proud fact that, like tens of +thousands of Forsytes before him, tens of thousands in the present, tens +of thousands in the future, he had always made his own, and held his own, +in the world. + +And, while he stood there looking down on the smut-covered foliage of the +laurels, the black-stained grass-plot, the progress of the dog Balthasar, +all the suffering of the fifteen years during which he had been baulked +of legitimate enjoyment mingled its gall with the sweetness of the +approaching moment. + +Young Jolyon came at last, pleased with his work, and fresh from long +hours in the open air. On hearing that his father was in the drawing +room, he inquired hurriedly whether Mrs. Forsyte was at home, and being +informed that she was not, heaved a sigh of relief. Then putting his +painting materials carefully in the little coat-closet out of sight, he +went in. + +With characteristic decision old Jolyon came at once to the point. "I've +been altering my arrangements, Jo," he said. "You can cut your coat a +bit longer in the future--I'm settling a thousand a year on you at once. +June will have fifty thousand at my death; and you the rest. That dog of +yours is spoiling the garden. I shouldn't keep a dog, if I were you!" + +The dog Balthasar, seated in the centre of the lawn, was examining his +tail. + +Young Jolyon looked at the animal, but saw him dimly, for his eyes were +misty. + +"Yours won't come short of a hundred thousand, my boy," said old Jolyon; +"I thought you'd better know. I haven't much longer to live at my age. +I shan't allude to it again. How's your wife? And--give her my love." + +Young Jolyon put his hand on his father's shoulder, and, as neither +spoke, the episode closed. + +Having seen his father into a hansom, young Jolyon came back to the +drawing-room and stood, where old Jolyon had stood, looking down on the +little garden. He tried to realize all that this meant to him, and, +Forsyte that he was, vistas of property were opened out in his brain; the +years of half rations through which he had passed had not sapped his +natural instincts. In extremely practical form, he thought of travel, of +his wife's costume, the children's education, a pony for Jolly, a +thousand things; but in the midst of all he thought, too, of Bosinney and +his mistress, and the broken song of the thrush. Joy--tragedy! Which? +Which? + +The old past--the poignant, suffering, passionate, wonderful past, that +no money could buy, that nothing could restore in all its burning +sweetness--had come back before him. + +When his wife came in he went straight up to her and took her in his +arms; and for a long time he stood without speaking, his eyes closed, +pressing her to him, while she looked at him with a wondering, adoring, +doubting look in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +VOYAGE INTO THE INFERNO + +The morning after a certain night on which Soames at last asserted his +rights and acted like a man, he breakfasted alone. + +He breakfasted by gaslight, the fog of late November wrapping the town as +in some monstrous blanket till the trees of the Square even were barely +visible from the dining-room window. + +He ate steadily, but at times a sensation as though he could not swallow +attacked him. Had he been right to yield to his overmastering hunger of +the night before, and break down the resistance which he had suffered now +too long from this woman who was his lawful and solemnly constituted +helpmate? + +He was strangely haunted by the recollection of her face, from before +which, to soothe her, he had tried to pull her hands--of her terrible +smothered sobbing, the like of which he had never heard, and still seemed +to hear; and he was still haunted by the odd, intolerable feeling of +remorse and shame he had felt, as he stood looking at her by the flame of +the single candle, before silently slinking away. + +And somehow, now that he had acted like this, he was surprised at +himself. + +Two nights before, at Winifred Dartie's, he had taken Mrs. MacAnder into +dinner. She had said to him, looking in his face with her sharp, +greenish eyes: "And so your wife is a great friend of that Mr. +Bosinney's?" + +Not deigning to ask what she meant, he had brooded over her words. + +They had roused in him a fierce jealousy, which, with the peculiar +perversion of this instinct, had turned to fiercer desire. + +Without the incentive of Mrs. MacAnder's words he might never have done +what he had done. Without their incentive and the accident of finding +his wife's door for once unlocked, which had enabled him to steal upon +her asleep. + +Slumber had removed his doubts, but the morning brought them again. One +thought comforted him: No one would know--it was not the sort of thing +that she would speak about. + +And, indeed, when the vehicle of his daily business life, which needed so +imperatively the grease of clear and practical thought, started rolling +once more with the reading of his letters, those nightmare-like doubts +began to assume less extravagant importance at the back of his mind. The +incident was really not of great moment; women made a fuss about it in +books; but in the cool judgment of right-thinking men, of men of the +world, of such as he recollected often received praise in the Divorce +Court, he had but done his best to sustain the sanctity of marriage, to +prevent her from abandoning her duty, possibly, if she were still seeing +Bosinney, from.... + +No, he did not regret it. + +Now that the first step towards reconciliation had been taken, the rest +would be comparatively--comparatively.... + +He, rose and walked to the window. His nerve had been shaken. The sound +of smothered sobbing was in his ears again. He could not get rid of it. + +He put on his fur coat, and went out into the fog; having to go into the +City, he took the underground railway from Sloane Square station. + +In his corner of the first-class compartment filled with City men the +smothered sobbing still haunted him, so he opened the Times with the rich +crackle that drowns all lesser sounds, and, barricaded behind it, set +himself steadily to con the news. + +He read that a Recorder had charged a grand jury on the previous day with +a more than usually long list of offences. He read of three murders, +five manslaughters, seven arsons, and as many as eleven rapes--a +surprisingly high number--in addition to many less conspicuous crimes, to +be tried during a coming Sessions; and from one piece of news he went on +to another, keeping the paper well before his face. + +And still, inseparable from his reading, was the memory of Irene's +tear-stained face, and the sounds from her broken heart. + +The day was a busy one, including, in addition to the ordinary affairs of +his practice, a visit to his brokers, Messrs. Grin and Grinning, to give +them instructions to sell his shares in the New Colliery Co., Ltd., whose +business he suspected, rather than knew, was stagnating (this enterprise +afterwards slowly declined, and was ultimately sold for a song to an +American syndicate); and a long conference at Waterbuck, Q.C.'s chambers, +attended by Boulter, by Fiske, the junior counsel, and Waterbuck, Q.C., +himself. + +The case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was expected to be reached on the morrow, +before Mr. Justice Bentham. + +Mr. Justice Bentham, a man of common-sense rather than too great legal +knowledge, was considered to be about the best man they could have to try +the action. He was a 'strong' Judge. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., in pleasing conjunction with an almost rude neglect of +Boulter and Fiske paid to Soames a good deal of attention, by instinct or +the sounder evidence of rumour, feeling him to be a man of property. + +He held with remarkable consistency to the opinion he had already +expressed in writing, that the issue would depend to a great extent on +the evidence given at the trial, and in a few well directed remarks he +advised Soames not to be too careful in giving that evidence. "A little +bluffness, Mr. Forsyte," he said, "a little bluffness," and after he had +spoken he laughed firmly, closed his lips tight, and scratched his head +just below where he had pushed his wig back, for all the world like the +gentleman-farmer for whom he loved to be taken. He was considered +perhaps the leading man in breach of promise cases. + +Soames used the underground again in going home. + +The fog was worse than ever at Sloane Square station. Through the still, +thick blur, men groped in and out; women, very few, grasped their +reticules to their bosoms and handkerchiefs to their mouths; crowned with +the weird excrescence of the driver, haloed by a vague glow of lamp-light +that seemed to drown in vapour before it reached the pavement, cabs +loomed dim-shaped ever and again, and discharged citizens, bolting like +rabbits to their burrows. + +And these shadowy figures, wrapped each in his own little shroud of fog, +took no notice of each other. In the great warren, each rabbit for +himself, especially those clothed in the more expensive fur, who, afraid +of carriages on foggy days, are driven underground. + +One figure, however, not far from Soames, waited at the station door. + +Some buccaneer or lover, of whom each Forsyte thought: 'Poor devil! looks +as if he were having a bad time!' Their kind hearts beat a stroke faster +for that poor, waiting, anxious lover in the fog; but they hurried by, +well knowing that they had neither time nor money to spare for any +suffering but their own. + +Only a policeman, patrolling slowly and at intervals, took an interest in +that waiting figure, the brim of whose slouch hat half hid a face +reddened by the cold, all thin, and haggard, over which a hand stole now +and again to smooth away anxiety, or renew the resolution that kept him +waiting there. But the waiting lover (if lover he were) was used to +policemen's scrutiny, or too absorbed in his anxiety, for he never +flinched. A hardened case, accustomed to long trysts, to anxiety, and +fog, and cold, if only his mistress came at last. Foolish lover! Fogs +last until the spring; there is also snow and rain, no comfort anywhere; +gnawing fear if you bring her out, gnawing fear if you bid her stay at +home! + +"Serve him right; he should arrange his affairs better!" + +So any respectable Forsyte. Yet, if that sounder citizen could have +listened at the waiting lover's heart, out there in the fog and the cold, +he would have said again: "Yes, poor devil he's having a bad time!" + +Soames got into his cab, and, with the glass down, crept along Sloane +Street, and so along the Brompton Road, and home. He reached his house +at five. + +His wife was not in. She had gone out a quarter of an hour before. Out +at such a time of night, into this terrible fog! What was the meaning of +that? + +He sat by the dining-room fire, with the door open, disturbed to the +soul, trying to read the evening paper. A book was no good--in daily +papers alone was any narcotic to such worry as his. From the customary +events recorded in the journal he drew some comfort. 'Suicide of an +actress'--'Grave indisposition of a Statesman' (that chronic +sufferer)--'Divorce of an army officer'--'Fire in a colliery'--he read +them all. They helped him a little--prescribed by the greatest of all +doctors, our natural taste. + +It was nearly seven when he heard her come in. + +The incident of the night before had long lost its importance under +stress of anxiety at her strange sortie into the fog. But now that Irene +was home, the memory of her broken-hearted sobbing came back to him, and +he felt nervous at the thought of facing her. + +She was already on the stairs; her grey fur coat hung to her knees, its +high collar almost hid her face, she wore a thick veil. + +She neither turned to look at him nor spoke. No ghost or stranger could +have passed more silently. + +Bilson came to lay dinner, and told him that Mrs. Forsyte was not coming +down; she was having the soup in her room. + +For once Soames did not 'change'; it was, perhaps, the first time in his +life that he had sat down to dinner with soiled cuffs, and, not even +noticing them, he brooded long over his wine. He sent Bilson to light a +fire in his picture-room, and presently went up there himself. + +Turning on the gas, he heaved a deep sigh, as though amongst these +treasures, the backs of which confronted him in stacks, around the little +room, he had found at length his peace of mind. He went straight up to +the greatest treasure of them all, an undoubted Turner, and, carrying it +to the easel, turned its face to the light. There had been a movement in +Turners, but he had not been able to make up his mind to part with it. +He stood for a long time, his pale, clean-shaven face poked forward above +his stand-up collar, looking at the picture as though he were adding it +up; a wistful expression came into his eyes; he found, perhaps, that it +came to too little. He took it down from the easel to put it back +against the wall; but, in crossing the room, stopped, for he seemed to +hear sobbing. + +It was nothing--only the sort of thing that had been bothering him in the +morning. And soon after, putting the high guard before the blazing fire, +he stole downstairs. + +Fresh for the morrow! was his thought. It was long before he went to +sleep.... + +It is now to George Forsyte that the mind must turn for light on the +events of that fog-engulfed afternoon. + +The wittiest and most sportsmanlike of the Forsytes had passed the day +reading a novel in the paternal mansion at Princes' Gardens. Since a +recent crisis in his financial affairs he had been kept on parole by +Roger, and compelled to reside 'at home.' + +Towards five o'clock he went out, and took train at South Kensington +Station (for everyone to-day went Underground). His intention was to +dine, and pass the evening playing billiards at the Red Pottle--that +unique hostel, neither club, hotel, nor good gilt restaurant. + +He got out at Charing Cross, choosing it in preference to his more usual +St. James's Park, that he might reach Jermyn Street by better lighted +ways. + +On the platform his eyes--for in combination with a composed and +fashionable appearance, George had sharp eyes, and was always on the +look-out for fillips to his sardonic humour--his eyes were attracted by a +man, who, leaping from a first-class compartment, staggered rather than +walked towards the exit. + +'So ho, my bird!' said George to himself; 'why, it's "the Buccaneer!"' +and he put his big figure on the trail. Nothing afforded him greater +amusement than a drunken man. + +Bosinney, who wore a slouch hat, stopped in front of him, spun around, +and rushed back towards the carriage he had just left. He was too late. +A porter caught him by the coat; the train was already moving on. + +George's practised glance caught sight of the face of a lady clad in a +grey fur coat at the carriage window. It was Mrs. Soames--and George +felt that this was interesting! + +And now he followed Bosinney more closely than ever--up the stairs, past +the ticket collector into the street. In that progress, however, his +feelings underwent a change; no longer merely curious and amused, he felt +sorry for the poor fellow he was shadowing. 'The Buccaneer' was not +drunk, but seemed to be acting under the stress of violent emotion; he +was talking to himself, and all that George could catch were the words +"Oh, God!" Nor did he appear to know what he was doing, or where going; +but stared, hesitated, moved like a man out of his mind; and from being +merely a joker in search of amusement, George felt that he must see the +poor chap through. + +He had 'taken the knock'--'taken the knock!' And he wondered what on +earth Mrs. Soames had been saying, what on earth she had been telling him +in the railway carriage. She had looked bad enough herself! It made +George sorry to think of her travelling on with her trouble all alone. + +He followed close behind Bosinney's elbow--tall, burly figure, saying +nothing, dodging warily--and shadowed him out into the fog. + +There was something here beyond a jest! He kept his head admirably, in +spite of some excitement, for in addition to compassion, the instincts of +the chase were roused within him. + +Bosinney walked right out into the thoroughfare--a vast muffled +blackness, where a man could not see six paces before him; where, all +around, voices or whistles mocked the sense of direction; and sudden +shapes came rolling slow upon them; and now and then a light showed like +a dim island in an infinite dark sea. + +And fast into this perilous gulf of night walked Bosinney, and fast after +him walked George. If the fellow meant to put his 'twopenny' under a +'bus, he would stop it if he could! Across the street and back the +hunted creature strode, not groping as other men were groping in that +gloom, but driven forward as though the faithful George behind wielded a +knout; and this chase after a haunted man began to have for George the +strangest fascination. + +But it was now that the affair developed in a way which ever afterwards +caused it to remain green in his mind. Brought to a stand-still in the +fog, he heard words which threw a sudden light on these proceedings. +What Mrs. Soames had said to Bosinney in the train was now no longer +dark. George understood from those mutterings that Soames had exercised +his rights over an estranged and unwilling wife in the greatest--the +supreme act of property. + +His fancy wandered in the fields of this situation; it impressed him; he +guessed something of the anguish, the sexual confusion and horror in +Bosinney's heart. And he thought: 'Yes, it's a bit thick! I don't +wonder the poor fellow is half-cracked!' + +He had run his quarry to earth on a bench under one of the lions in +Trafalgar Square, a monster sphynx astray like themselves in that gulf of +darkness. Here, rigid and silent, sat Bosinney, and George, in whose +patience was a touch of strange brotherliness, took his stand behind. He +was not lacking in a certain delicacy--a sense of form--that did not +permit him to intrude upon this tragedy, and he waited, quiet as the lion +above, his fur collar hitched above his ears concealing the fleshy +redness of his cheeks, concealing all but his eyes with their sardonic, +compassionate stare. And men kept passing back from business on the way +to their clubs--men whose figures shrouded in cocoons of fog came into +view like spectres, and like spectres vanished. Then even in his +compassion George's Quilpish humour broke forth in a sudden longing to +pluck these spectres by the sleeve, and say: + +"Hi, you Johnnies! You don't often see a show like this! Here's a poor +devil whose mistress has just been telling him a pretty little story of +her husband; walk up, walk up! He's taken the knock, you see." + +In fancy he saw them gaping round the tortured lover; and grinned as he +thought of some respectable, newly-married spectre enabled by the state +of his own affections to catch an inkling of what was going on within +Bosinney; he fancied he could see his mouth getting wider and wider, and +the fog going down and down. For in George was all that contempt of the +of the married middle-class--peculiar to the wild and sportsmanlike +spirits in its ranks. + +But he began to be bored. Waiting was not what he had bargained for. + +'After all,' he thought, 'the poor chap will get over it; not the first +time such a thing has happened in this little city!' But now his quarry +again began muttering words of violent hate and anger. And following a +sudden impulse George touched him on the shoulder. + +Bosinney spun round. + +"Who are you? What do you want?" + +George could have stood it well enough in the light of the gas lamps, in +the light of that everyday world of which he was so hardy a connoisseur; +but in this fog, where all was gloomy and unreal, where nothing had that +matter-of-fact value associated by Forsytes with earth, he was a victim +to strange qualms, and as he tried to stare back into the eyes of this +maniac, he thought: + +'If I see a bobby, I'll hand him over; he's not fit to be at large.' + +But waiting for no answer, Bosinney strode off into the fog, and George +followed, keeping perhaps a little further off, yet more than ever set on +tracking him down. + +'He can't go on long like this,' he thought. 'It's God's own miracle +he's not been run over already.' He brooded no more on policemen, a +sportsman's sacred fire alive again within him. + +Into a denser gloom than ever Bosinney held on at a furious pace; but his +pursuer perceived more method in his madness--he was clearly making his +way westwards. + +'He's really going for Soames!' thought George. The idea was attractive. +It would be a sporting end to such a chase. He had always disliked his +cousin. + +The shaft of a passing cab brushed against his shoulder and made him leap +aside. He did not intend to be killed for the Buccaneer, or anyone. +Yet, with hereditary tenacity, he stuck to the trail through vapour that +blotted out everything but the shadow of the hunted man and the dim moon +of the nearest lamp. + +Then suddenly, with the instinct of a town-stroller, George knew himself +to be in Piccadilly. Here he could find his way blindfold; and freed +from the strain of geographical uncertainty, his mind returned to +Bosinney's trouble. + +Down the long avenue of his man-about-town experience, bursting, as it +were, through a smirch of doubtful amours, there stalked to him a memory +of his youth. A memory, poignant still, that brought the scent of hay, +the gleam of moonlight, a summer magic, into the reek and blackness of +this London fog--the memory of a night when in the darkest shadow of a +lawn he had overheard from a woman's lips that he was not her sole +possessor. And for a moment George walked no longer in black Piccadilly, +but lay again, with hell in his heart, and his face to the +sweet-smelling, dewy grass, in the long shadow of poplars that hid the +moon. + +A longing seized him to throw his arm round the Buccaneer, and say, +"Come, old boy. Time cures all. Let's go and drink it off!" + +But a voice yelled at him, and he started back. A cab rolled out of +blackness, and into blackness disappeared. And suddenly George perceived +that he had lost Bosinney. He ran forward and back, felt his heart +clutched by a sickening fear, the dark fear which lives in the wings of +the fog. Perspiration started out on his brow. He stood quite still, +listening with all his might. + +"And then," as he confided to Dartie the same evening in the course of a +game of billiards at the Red Pottle, "I lost him." + +Dartie twirled complacently at his dark moustache. He had just put +together a neat break of twenty-three,--failing at a 'Jenny.' "And who +was she?" he asked. + +George looked slowly at the 'man of the world's' fattish, sallow face, +and a little grim smile lurked about the curves of his cheeks and his +heavy-lidded eyes. + +'No, no, my fine fellow,' he thought, 'I'm not going to tell you.' For +though he mixed with Dartie a good deal, he thought him a bit of a cad. + +"Oh, some little love-lady or other," he said, and chalked his cue. + +"A love-lady!" exclaimed Dartie--he used a more figurative expression. +"I made sure it was our friend Soa...." + +"Did you?" said George curtly. "Then damme you've made an error." + +He missed his shot. He was careful not to allude to the subject again +till, towards eleven o'clock, having, in his poetic phraseology, 'looked +upon the drink when it was yellow,' he drew aside the blind, and gazed +out into the street. The murky blackness of the fog was but faintly +broken by the lamps of the 'Red Pottle,' and no shape of mortal man or +thing was in sight. + +"I can't help thinking of that poor Buccaneer," he said. "He may be +wandering out there now in that fog. If he's not a corpse," he added +with strange dejection. + +"Corpse!" said Dartie, in whom the recollection of his defeat at Richmond +flared up. "He's all right. Ten to one if he wasn't tight!" + +George turned on him, looking really formidable, with a sort of savage +gloom on his big face. + +"Dry up!" he said. "Don't I tell you he's 'taken the knock!"' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TRIAL + +In the morning of his case, which was second in the list, Soames was +again obliged to start without seeing Irene, and it was just as well, for +he had not as yet made up his mind what attitude to adopt towards her. + +He had been requested to be in court by half-past ten, to provide against +the event of the first action (a breach of promise) collapsing, which +however it did not, both sides showing a courage that afforded Waterbuck, +Q.C., an opportunity for improving his already great reputation in this +class of case. He was opposed by Ram, the other celebrated breach of +promise man. It was a battle of giants. + +The court delivered judgment just before the luncheon interval. The jury +left the box for good, and Soames went out to get something to eat. He +met James standing at the little luncheon-bar, like a pelican in the +wilderness of the galleries, bent over a sandwich with a glass of sherry +before him. The spacious emptiness of the great central hall, over which +father and son brooded as they stood together, was marred now and then +for a fleeting moment by barristers in wig and gown hurriedly bolting +across, by an occasional old lady or rusty-coated man, looking up in a +frightened way, and by two persons, bolder than their generation, seated +in an embrasure arguing. The sound of their voices arose, together with +a scent as of neglected wells, which, mingling with the odour of the +galleries, combined to form the savour, like nothing but the emanation of +a refined cheese, so indissolubly connected with the administration of +British Justice. + +It was not long before James addressed his son. + +"When's your case coming on? I suppose it'll be on directly. I +shouldn't wonder if this Bosinney'd say anything; I should think he'd +have to. He'll go bankrupt if it goes against him." He took a large bite +at his sandwich and a mouthful of sherry. "Your mother," he said, "wants +you and Irene to come and dine to-night." + +A chill smile played round Soames' lips; he looked back at his father. +Anyone who had seen the look, cold and furtive, thus interchanged, might +have been pardoned for not appreciating the real understanding between +them. James finished his sherry at a draught. + +"How much?" he asked. + +On returning to the court Soames took at once his rightful seat on the +front bench beside his solicitor. He ascertained where his father was +seated with a glance so sidelong as to commit nobody. + +James, sitting back with his hands clasped over the handle of his +umbrella, was brooding on the end of the bench immediately behind +counsel, whence he could get away at once when the case was over. He +considered Bosinney's conduct in every way outrageous, but he did not +wish to run up against him, feeling that the meeting would be awkward. + +Next to the Divorce Court, this court was, perhaps, the favourite +emporium of justice, libel, breach of promise, and other commercial +actions being frequently decided there. Quite a sprinkling of persons +unconnected with the law occupied the back benches, and the hat of a +woman or two could be seen in the gallery. + +The two rows of seats immediately in front of James were gradually filled +by barristers in wigs, who sat down to make pencil notes, chat, and +attend to their teeth; but his interest was soon diverted from these +lesser lights of justice by the entrance of Waterbuck, Q.C., with the +wings of his silk gown rustling, and his red, capable face supported by +two short, brown whiskers. The famous Q.C. looked, as James freely +admitted, the very picture of a man who could heckle a witness. + +For all his experience, it so happened that he had never seen Waterbuck, +Q.C., before, and, like many Forsytes in the lower branch of the +profession, he had an extreme admiration for a good cross-examiner. The +long, lugubrious folds in his cheeks relaxed somewhat after seeing him, +especially as he now perceived that Soames alone was represented by silk. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., had barely screwed round on his elbow to chat with his +Junior before Mr. Justice Bentham himself appeared--a thin, rather +hen-like man, with a little stoop, clean-shaven under his snowy wig. +Like all the rest of the court, Waterbuck rose, and remained on his feet +until the judge was seated. James rose but slightly; he was already +comfortable, and had no opinion of Bentham, having sat next but one to +him at dinner twice at the Bumley Tomms'. Bumley Tomm was rather a poor +thing, though he had been so successful. James himself had given him his +first brief. He was excited, too, for he had just found out that +Bosinney was not in court. + +'Now, what's he mean by that?' he kept on thinking. + +The case having been called on, Waterbuck, Q.C., pushing back his papers, +hitched his gown on his shoulder, and, with a semi-circular look around +him, like a man who is going to bat, arose and addressed the Court. + +The facts, he said, were not in dispute, and all that his Lordship would +be asked was to interpret the correspondence which had taken place +between his client and the defendant, an architect, with reference to the +decoration of a house. He would, however, submit that this +correspondence could only mean one very plain thing. After briefly +reciting the history of the house at Robin Hill, which he described as a +mansion, and the actual facts of expenditure, he went on as follows: + +"My client, Mr. Soames Forsyte, is a gentleman, a man of property, who +would be the last to dispute any legitimate claim that might be made +against him, but he has met with such treatment from his architect in the +matter of this house, over which he has, as your lordship has heard, +already spent some twelve--some twelve thousand pounds, a sum +considerably in advance of the amount he had originally contemplated, +that as a matter of principle--and this I cannot too strongly +emphasize--as a matter of principle, and in the interests of others, he +has felt himself compelled to bring this action. The point put forward +in defence by the architect I will suggest to your lordship is not worthy +of a moment's serious consideration." He then read the correspondence. + +His client, "a man of recognised position," was prepared to go into the +box, and to swear that he never did authorize, that it was never in his +mind to authorize, the expenditure of any money beyond the extreme limit +of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, which he had clearly fixed; and not +further to waste the time of the court, he would at once call Mr. +Forsyte. + +Soames then went into the box. His whole appearance was striking in its +composure. His face, just supercilious enough, pale and clean-shaven, +with a little line between the eyes, and compressed lips; his dress in +unostentatious order, one hand neatly gloved, the other bare. He +answered the questions put to him in a somewhat low, but distinct voice. +His evidence under cross-examination savoured of taciturnity. + +Had he not used the expression, "a free hand"? No. + +"Come, come!" + +The expression he had used was 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence.' + +"Would you tell the Court that that was English?" + +"Yes!" + +"What do you say it means?" + +"What it says!" + +"Are you prepared to deny that it is a contradiction in terms?" + +"Yes." + +"You are not an Irishman?" + +"No." + +"Are you a well-educated man?" + +"Yes." + +"And yet you persist in that statement?" + +"Yes." + +Throughout this and much more cross-examination, which turned again and +again around the 'nice point,' James sat with his hand behind his ear, +his eyes fixed upon his son. + +He was proud of him! He could not but feel that in similar circumstances +he himself would have been tempted to enlarge his replies, but his +instinct told him that this taciturnity was the very thing. He sighed +with relief, however, when Soames, slowly turning, and without any change +of expression, descended from the box. + +When it came to the turn of Bosinney's Counsel to address the Judge, +James redoubled his attention, and he searched the Court again and again +to see if Bosinney were not somewhere concealed. + +Young Chankery began nervously; he was placed by Bosinney's absence in an +awkward position. He therefore did his best to turn that absence to +account. + +He could not but fear--he said--that his client had met with an accident. +He had fully expected him there to give evidence; they had sent round +that morning both to Mr. Bosinney's office and to his rooms (though he +knew they were one and the same, he thought it was as well not to say +so), but it was not known where he was, and this he considered to be +ominous, knowing how anxious Mr. Bosinney had been to give his evidence. +He had not, however, been instructed to apply for an adjournment, and in +default of such instruction he conceived it his duty to go on. The plea +on which he somewhat confidently relied, and which his client, had he not +unfortunately been prevented in some way from attending, would have +supported by his evidence, was that such an expression as a 'free hand' +could not be limited, fettered, and rendered unmeaning, by any verbiage +which might follow it. He would go further and say that the +correspondence showed that whatever he might have said in his evidence, +Mr. Forsyte had in fact never contemplated repudiating liability on any +of the work ordered or executed by his architect. The defendant had +certainly never contemplated such a contingency, or, as was demonstrated +by his letters, he would never have proceeded with the work--a work of +extreme delicacy, carried out with great care and efficiency, to meet and +satisfy the fastidious taste of a connoisseur, a rich man, a man of +property. He felt strongly on this point, and feeling strongly he used, +perhaps, rather strong words when he said that this action was of a most +unjustifiable, unexpected, indeed--unprecedented character. If his +Lordship had had the opportunity that he himself had made it his duty to +take, to go over this very fine house and see the great delicacy and +beauty of the decorations executed by his client--an artist in his most +honourable profession--he felt convinced that not for one moment would +his Lordship tolerate this, he would use no stronger word than daring +attempt to evade legitimate responsibility. + +Taking the text of Soames' letters, he lightly touched on 'Boileau v. The +Blasted Cement Company, Limited.' "It is doubtful," he said, "what that +authority has decided; in any case I would submit that it is just as much +in my favour as in my friend's." He then argued the 'nice point' +closely. With all due deference he submitted that Mr. Forsyte's +expression nullified itself. His client not being a rich man, the matter +was a serious one for him; he was a very talented architect, whose +professional reputation was undoubtedly somewhat at stake. He concluded +with a perhaps too personal appeal to the Judge, as a lover of the arts, +to show himself the protector of artists, from what was occasionally--he +said occasionally--the too iron hand of capital. "What," he said, "will +be the position of the artistic professions, if men of property like this +Mr. Forsyte refuse, and are allowed to refuse, to carry out the +obligations of the commissions which they have given." He would now call +his client, in case he should at the last moment have found himself able +to be present. + +The name Philip Baynes Bosinney was called three times by the Ushers, and +the sound of the calling echoed with strange melancholy throughout the +Court and Galleries. + +The crying of this name, to which no answer was returned, had upon James +a curious effect: it was like calling for your lost dog about the +streets. And the creepy feeling that it gave him, of a man missing, +grated on his sense of comfort and security-on his cosiness. Though he +could not have said why, it made him feel uneasy. + +He looked now at the clock--a quarter to three! It would be all over in +a quarter of an hour. Where could the young fellow be? + +It was only when Mr. Justice Bentham delivered judgment that he got over +the turn he had received. + +Behind the wooden erection, by which he was fenced from more ordinary +mortals, the learned Judge leaned forward. The electric light, just +turned on above his head, fell on his face, and mellowed it to an orange +hue beneath the snowy crown of his wig; the amplitude of his robes grew +before the eye; his whole figure, facing the comparative dusk of the +Court, radiated like some majestic and sacred body. He cleared his +throat, took a sip of water, broke the nib of a quill against the desk, +and, folding his bony hands before him, began. + +To James he suddenly loomed much larger than he had ever thought Bentham +would loom. It was the majesty of the law; and a person endowed with a +nature far less matter-of-fact than that of James might have been excused +for failing to pierce this halo, and disinter therefrom the somewhat +ordinary Forsyte, who walked and talked in every-day life under the name +of Sir Walter Bentham. + +He delivered judgment in the following words: + +"The facts in this case are not in dispute. On May 15 last the defendant +wrote to the plaintiff, requesting to be allowed to withdraw from his +professional position in regard to the decoration of the plaintiff's +house, unless he were given 'a free hand.' The plaintiff, on May 17, +wrote back as follows: 'In giving you, in accordance with your request, +this free hand, I wish you to clearly understand that the total cost of +the house as handed over to me completely decorated, inclusive of your +fee (as arranged between us) must not exceed twelve thousand pounds.' To +this letter the defendant replied on May 18: 'If you think that in such a +delicate matter as decoration I can bind myself to the exact pound, I am +afraid you are mistaken.' On May 19 the plaintiff wrote as follows: 'I +did not mean to say that if you should exceed the sum named in my letter +to you by ten or twenty or even fifty pounds there would be any +difficulty between us. You have a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence, and I hope you will see your way to completing the +decorations.' On May 20 the defendant replied thus shortly: 'Very well.' + +"In completing these decorations, the defendant incurred liabilities and +expenses which brought the total cost of this house up to the sum of +twelve thousand four hundred pounds, all of which expenditure has been +defrayed by the plaintiff. This action has been brought by the plaintiff +to recover from the defendant the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds +expended by him in excess of a sum of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +alleged by the plaintiff to have been fixed by this correspondence as the +maximum sum that the defendant had authority to expend. + +"The question for me to decide is whether or no the defendant is liable +to refund to the plaintiff this sum. In my judgment he is so liable. + +"What in effect the plaintiff has said is this 'I give you a free hand to +complete these decorations, provided that you keep within a total cost to +me of twelve thousand pounds. If you exceed that sum by as much as fifty +pounds, I will not hold you responsible; beyond that point you are no +agent of mine, and I shall repudiate liability.' It is not quite clear to +me whether, had the plaintiff in fact repudiated liability under his +agent's contracts, he would, under all the circumstances, have been +successful in so doing; but he has not adopted this course. He has +accepted liability, and fallen back upon his rights against the defendant +under the terms of the latter's engagement. + +"In my judgment the plaintiff is entitled to recover this sum from the +defendant. + +"It has been sought, on behalf of the defendant, to show that no limit of +expenditure was fixed or intended to be fixed by this correspondence. If +this were so, I can find no reason for the plaintiff's importation into +the correspondence of the figures of twelve thousand pounds and +subsequently of fifty pounds. The defendant's contention would render +these figures meaningless. It is manifest to me that by his letter of May +20 he assented to a very clear proposition, by the terms of which he must +be held to be bound. + +"For these reasons there will be judgment for the plaintiff for the +amount claimed with costs." + +James sighed, and stooping, picked up his umbrella which had fallen with +a rattle at the words 'importation into this correspondence.' + +Untangling his legs, he rapidly left the Court; without waiting for his +son, he snapped up a hansom cab (it was a clear, grey afternoon) and +drove straight to Timothy's where he found Swithin; and to him, Mrs. +Septimus Small, and Aunt Hester, he recounted the whole proceedings, +eating two muffins not altogether in the intervals of speech. + +"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on the right +way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business for that young +Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," and then after a long +pause, during which he had stared disquietly into the fire, he added: + +"He wasn't there--now why?" + +There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, with the +ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back drawing-room. +The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined against the black of his +frock coat. He spoke in a grudging voice. + +"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning round, he +walked out. + +It was Timothy. + +James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew there was +something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, staring before +him, as though he had seen a portent. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SOAMES BREAKS THE NEWS + +In leaving the Court Soames did not go straight home. He felt +disinclined for the City, and drawn by need for sympathy in his triumph, +he, too, made his way, but slowly and on foot, to Timothy's in the +Bayswater Road. + +His father had just left; Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester, in possession of +the whole story, greeted him warmly. They were sure he was hungry after +all that evidence. Smither should toast him some more muffins, his dear +father had eaten them all. He must put his legs up on the sofa; and he +must have a glass of prune brandy too. It was so strengthening. + +Swithin was still present, having lingered later than his wont, for he +felt in want of exercise. On hearing this suggestion, he 'pished.' A +pretty pass young men were coming to! His own liver was out of order, +and he could not bear the thought of anyone else drinking prune brandy. + +He went away almost immediately, saying to Soames: "And how's your wife? +You tell her from me that if she's dull, and likes to come and dine with +me quietly, I'll give her such a bottle of champagne as she doesn't get +every day." Staring down from his height on Soames he contracted his +thick, puffy, yellow hand as though squeezing within it all this small +fry, and throwing out his chest he waddled slowly away. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester were left horrified. Swithin was so droll! + +They themselves were longing to ask Soames how Irene would take the +result, yet knew that they must not; he would perhaps say something of +his own accord, to throw some light on this, the present burning question +in their lives, the question that from necessity of silence tortured them +almost beyond bearing; for even Timothy had now been told, and the effect +on his health was little short of alarming. And what, too, would June +do? This, also, was a most exciting, if dangerous speculation! + +They had never forgotten old Jolyon's visit, since when he had not once +been to see them; they had never forgotten the feeling it gave all who +were present, that the family was no longer what it had been--that the +family was breaking up. + +But Soames gave them no help, sitting with his knees crossed, talking of +the Barbizon school of painters, whom he had just discovered. These were +the coming men, he said; he should not wonder if a lot of money were made +over them; he had his eye on two pictures by a man called Corot, charming +things; if he could get them at a reasonable price he was going to buy +them--they would, he thought, fetch a big price some day. + +Interested as they could not but be, neither Mrs. Septimus Small nor Aunt +Hester could entirely acquiesce in being thus put off. + +It was interesting--most interesting--and then Soames was so clever that +they were sure he would do something with those pictures if anybody +could; but what was his plan now that he had won his case; was he going +to leave London at once, and live in the country, or what was he going to +do? + +Soames answered that he did not know, he thought they should be moving +soon. He rose and kissed his aunts. + +No sooner had Aunt Juley received this emblem of departure than a change +came over her, as though she were being visited by dreadful courage; +every little roll of flesh on her face seemed trying to escape from an +invisible, confining mask. + +She rose to the full extent of her more than medium height, and said: "It +has been on my mind a long time, dear, and if nobody else will tell you, +I have made up my mind that...." + +Aunt Hester interrupted her: "Mind, Julia, you do it...." she gasped--"on +your own responsibility!" + +Mrs. Small went on as though she had not heard: "I think you ought to +know, dear, that Mrs. MacAnder saw Irene walking in Richmond Park with +Mr. Bosinney." + +Aunt Hester, who had also risen, sank back in her chair, and turned her +face away. Really Juley was too--she should not do such things when +she--Aunt Hester, was in the room; and, breathless with anticipation, she +waited for what Soames would answer. + +He had flushed the peculiar flush which always centred between his eyes; +lifting his hand, and, as it were, selecting a finger, he bit a nail +delicately; then, drawling it out between set lips, he said: "Mrs. +MacAnder is a cat!" + +Without waiting for any reply, he left the room. + +When he went into Timothy's he had made up his mind what course to pursue +on getting home. He would go up to Irene and say: + +"Well, I've won my case, and there's an end of it! I don't want to be +hard on Bosinney; I'll see if we can't come to some arrangement; he +shan't be pressed. And now let's turn over a new leaf! We'll let the +house, and get out of these fogs. We'll go down to Robin Hill at once. +I--I never meant to be rough with you! Let's shake hands--and--" +Perhaps she would let him kiss her, and forget! + +When he came out of Timothy's his intentions were no longer so simple. +The smouldering jealousy and suspicion of months blazed up within him. +He would put an end to that sort of thing once and for all; he would not +have her drag his name in the dirt! If she could not or would not love +him, as was her duty and his right--she should not play him tricks with +anyone else! He would tax her with it; threaten to divorce her! That +would make her behave; she would never face that. But--but--what if she +did? He was staggered; this had not occurred to him. + +What if she did? What if she made him a confession? How would he stand +then? He would have to bring a divorce! + +A divorce! Thus close, the word was paralyzing, so utterly at variance +with all the principles that had hitherto guided his life. Its lack of +compromise appalled him; he felt--like the captain of a ship, going to +the side of his vessel, and, with his own hands throwing over the most +precious of his bales. This jettisoning of his property with his own +hand seemed uncanny to Soames. It would injure him in his profession: He +would have to get rid of the house at Robin Hill, on which he had spent +so much money, so much anticipation--and at a sacrifice. And she! She +would no longer belong to him, not even in name! She would pass out of +his life, and he--he should never see her again! + +He traversed in the cab the length of a street without getting beyond the +thought that he should never see her again! + +But perhaps there was nothing to confess, even now very likely there was +nothing to confess. Was it wise to push things so far? Was it wise to +put himself into a position where he might have to eat his words? The +result of this case would ruin Bosinney; a ruined man was desperate, +but--what could he do? He might go abroad, ruined men always went +abroad. What could they do--if indeed it was 'they'--without money? It +would be better to wait and see how things turned out. If necessary, he +could have her watched. The agony of his jealousy (for all the world +like the crisis of an aching tooth) came on again; and he almost cried +out. But he must decide, fix on some course of action before he got +home. When the cab drew up at the door, he had decided nothing. + +He entered, pale, his hands moist with perspiration, dreading to meet +her, burning to meet her, ignorant of what he was to say or do. + +The maid Bilson was in the hall, and in answer to his question: "Where is +your mistress?" told him that Mrs. Forsyte had left the house about noon, +taking with her a trunk and bag. + +Snatching the sleeve of his fur coat away from her grasp, he confronted +her: + +"What?" he exclaimed; "what's that you said?" Suddenly recollecting that +he must not betray emotion, he added: "What message did she leave?" and +noticed with secret terror the startled look of the maid's eyes. + +"Mrs. Forsyte left no message, sir." + +"No message; very well, thank you, that will do. I shall be dining out." + +The maid went downstairs, leaving him still in his fur coat, idly turning +over the visiting cards in the porcelain bowl that stood on the carved +oak rug chest in the hall. + +Mr. and Mrs. Bareham Culcher. Mrs. Septimus Small. Mrs. Baynes. Mr. +Solomon Thornworthy. Lady Bellis. Miss Hermione Bellis. Miss Winifred +Bellis. Miss Ella Bellis. + +Who the devil were all these people? He seemed to have forgotten all +familiar things. The words 'no message--a trunk, and a bag,' played a +hide-and-seek in his brain. It was incredible that she had left no +message, and, still in his fur coat, he ran upstairs two steps at a time, +as a young married man when he comes home will run up to his wife's room. + +Everything was dainty, fresh, sweet-smelling; everything in perfect +order. On the great bed with its lilac silk quilt, was the bag she had +made and embroidered with her own hands to hold her sleeping things; her +slippers ready at the foot; the sheets even turned over at the head as +though expecting her. + +On the table stood the silver-mounted brushes and bottles from her +dressing bag, his own present. There must, then, be some mistake. What +bag had she taken? He went to the bell to summon Bilson, but remembered +in time that he must assume knowledge of where Irene had gone, take it +all as a matter of course, and grope out the meaning for himself. + +He locked the doors, and tried to think, but felt his brain going round; +and suddenly tears forced themselves into his eyes. + +Hurriedly pulling off his coat, he looked at himself in the mirror. + +He was too pale, a greyish tinge all over his face; he poured out water, +and began feverishly washing. + +Her silver-mounted brushes smelt faintly of the perfumed lotion she used +for her hair; and at this scent the burning sickness of his jealousy +seized him again. + +Struggling into his fur, he ran downstairs and out into the street. + +He had not lost all command of himself, however, and as he went down +Sloane Street he framed a story for use, in case he should not find her +at Bosinney's. But if he should? His power of decision again failed; he +reached the house without knowing what he should do if he did find her +there. + +It was after office hours, and the street door was closed; the woman who +opened it could not say whether Mr. Bosinney were in or no; she had not +seen him that day, not for two or three days; she did not attend to him +now, nobody attended to him, he.... + +Soames interrupted her, he would go up and see for himself. He went up +with a dogged, white face. + +The top floor was unlighted, the door closed, no one answered his +ringing, he could hear no sound. He was obliged to descend, shivering +under his fur, a chill at his heart. Hailing a cab, he told the man to +drive to Park Lane. + +On the way he tried to recollect when he had last given her a cheque; she +could not have more than three or four pounds, but there were her jewels; +and with exquisite torture he remembered how much money she could raise +on these; enough to take them abroad; enough for them to live on for +months! He tried to calculate; the cab stopped, and he got out with the +calculation unmade. + +The butler asked whether Mrs. Soames was in the cab, the master had told +him they were both expected to dinner. + +Soames answered: "No. Mrs. Forsyte has a cold." + +The butler was sorry. + +Soames thought he was looking at him inquisitively, and remembering that +he was not in dress clothes, asked: "Anybody here to dinner, Warmson?" + +"Nobody but Mr. and Mrs. Dartie, sir." + +Again it seemed to Soames that the butler was looking curiously at him. +His composure gave way. + +"What are you looking at?" he said. "What's the matter with me, eh?" + +The butler blushed, hung up the fur coat, murmured something that sounded +like: "Nothing, sir, I'm sure, sir," and stealthily withdrew. + +Soames walked upstairs. Passing the drawing-room without a look, he went +straight up to his mother's and father's bedroom. + +James, standing sideways, the concave lines of his tall, lean figure +displayed to advantage in shirt-sleeves and evening waistcoat, his head +bent, the end of his white tie peeping askew from underneath one white +Dundreary whisker, his eyes peering with intense concentration, his lips +pouting, was hooking the top hooks of his wife's bodice. Soames stopped; +he felt half-choked, whether because he had come upstairs too fast, or +for some other reason. He--he himself had never--never been asked to.... + +He heard his father's voice, as though there were a pin in his mouth, +saying: "Who's that? Who's there? What d'you want?" His mother's: +"Here, Felice, come and hook this; your master'll never get done." + +He put his hand up to his throat, and said hoarsely: + +"It's I--Soames!" + +He noticed gratefully the affectionate surprise in Emily's: "Well, my +dear boy?" and James', as he dropped the hook: "What, Soames! What's +brought you up? Aren't you well?" + +He answered mechanically: "I'm all right," and looked at them, and it +seemed impossible to bring out his news. + +James, quick to take alarm, began: "You don't look well. I expect you've +taken a chill--it's liver, I shouldn't wonder. Your mother'll give +you...." + +But Emily broke in quietly: "Have you brought Irene?" + +Soames shook his head. + +"No," he stammered, "she--she's left me!" + +Emily deserted the mirror before which she was standing. Her tall, full +figure lost its majesty and became very human as she came running over to +Soames. + +"My dear boy! My dear boy!" + +She put her lips to his forehead, and stroked his hand. + +James, too, had turned full towards his son; his face looked older. + +"Left you?" he said. "What d'you mean--left you? You never told me she +was going to leave you." + +Soames answered surlily: "How could I tell? What's to be done?" + +James began walking up and down; he looked strange and stork-like without +a coat. "What's to be done!" he muttered. "How should I know what's to +be done? What's the good of asking me? Nobody tells me anything, and +then they come and ask me what's to be done; and I should like to know +how I'm to tell them! Here's your mother, there she stands; she doesn't +say anything. What I should say you've got to do is to follow her.." + +Soames smiled; his peculiar, supercilious smile had never before looked +pitiable. + +"I don't know where she's gone," he said. + +"Don't know where she's gone!" said James. "How d'you mean, don't know +where she's gone? Where d'you suppose she's gone? She's gone after that +young Bosinney, that's where she's gone. I knew how it would be." + +Soames, in the long silence that followed, felt his mother pressing his +hand. And all that passed seemed to pass as though his own power of +thinking or doing had gone to sleep. + +His father's face, dusky red, twitching as if he were going to cry, and +words breaking out that seemed rent from him by some spasm in his soul. + +"There'll be a scandal; I always said so." Then, no one saying anything: +"And there you stand, you and your mother!" + +And Emily's voice, calm, rather contemptuous: "Come, now, James! Soames +will do all that he can." + +And James, staring at the floor, a little brokenly: "Well, I can't help +you; I'm getting old. Don't you be in too great a hurry, my boy." + +And his mother's voice again: "Soames will do all he can to get her back. +We won't talk of it. It'll all come right, I dare say." + +And James: "Well, I can't see how it can come right. And if she hasn't +gone off with that young Bosinney, my advice to you is not to listen to +her, but to follow her and get her back." + +Once more Soames felt his mother stroking his hand, in token of her +approval, and as though repeating some form of sacred oath, he muttered +between his teeth: "I will!" + +All three went down to the drawing-room together. There, were gathered +the three girls and Dartie; had Irene been present, the family circle +would have been complete. + +James sank into his armchair, and except for a word of cold greeting to +Dartie, whom he both despised and dreaded, as a man likely to be always +in want of money, he said nothing till dinner was announced. Soames, +too, was silent; Emily alone, a woman of cool courage, maintained a +conversation with Winifred on trivial subjects. She was never more +composed in her manner and conversation than that evening. + +A decision having been come to not to speak of Irene's flight, no view +was expressed by any other member of the family as to the right course to +be pursued; there can be little doubt, from the general tone adopted in +relation to events as they afterwards turned out, that James's advice: +"Don't you listen to her, follow-her and get her back!" would, with here +and there an exception, have been regarded as sound, not only in Park +Lane, but amongst the Nicholases, the Rogers, and at Timothy's. Just as +it would surely have been endorsed by that wider body of Forsytes all +over London, who were merely excluded from judgment by ignorance of the +story. + +In spite then of Emily's efforts, the dinner was served by Warmson and +the footman almost in silence. Dartie was sulky, and drank all he could +get; the girls seldom talked to each other at any time. James asked once +where June was, and what she was doing with herself in these days. No +one could tell him. He sank back into gloom. Only when Winifred +recounted how little Publius had given his bad penny to a beggar, did he +brighten up. + +"Ah!" he said, "that's a clever little chap. I don't know what'll become +of him, if he goes on like this. An intelligent little chap, I call +him!" But it was only a flash. + +The courses succeeded one another solemnly, under the electric light, +which glared down onto the table, but barely reached the principal +ornament of the walls, a so-called 'Sea Piece by Turner,' almost entirely +composed of cordage and drowning men. + +Champagne was handed, and then a bottle of James' prehistoric port, but +as by the chill hand of some skeleton. + +At ten o'clock Soames left; twice in reply to questions, he had said that +Irene was not well; he felt he could no longer trust himself. His mother +kissed him with her large soft kiss, and he pressed her hand, a flush of +warmth in his cheeks. He walked away in the cold wind, which whistled +desolately round the corners of the streets, under a sky of clear +steel-blue, alive with stars; he noticed neither their frosty greeting, +nor the crackle of the curled-up plane-leaves, nor the night-women +hurrying in their shabby furs, nor the pinched faces of vagabonds at +street corners. Winter was come! But Soames hastened home, oblivious; +his hands trembled as he took the late letters from the gilt wire cage +into which they had been thrust through the slit in the door.' + +None from Irene! + +He went into the dining-room; the fire was bright there, his chair drawn +up to it, slippers ready, spirit case, and carven cigarette box on the +table; but after staring at it all for a minute or two, he turned out the +light and went upstairs. There was a fire too in his dressing-room, but +her room was dark and cold. It was into this room that Soames went. + +He made a great illumination with candles, and for a long time continued +pacing up and down between the bed and the door. He could not get used +to the thought that she had really left him, and as though still +searching for some message, some reason, some reading of all the mystery +of his married life, he began opening every recess and drawer. + +There were her dresses; he had always liked, indeed insisted, that she +should be well-dressed--she had taken very few; two or three at most, and +drawer after drawer; full of linen and silk things, was untouched. + +Perhaps after all it was only a freak, and she had gone to the seaside +for a few days' change. If only that were so, and she were really coming +back, he would never again do as he had done that fatal night before +last, never again run that risk--though it was her duty, her duty as a +wife; though she did belong to him--he would never again run that risk; +she was evidently not quite right in her head! + +He stooped over the drawer where she kept her jewels; it was not locked, +and came open as he pulled; the jewel box had the key in it. This +surprised him until he remembered that it was sure to be empty. He +opened it. + +It was far from empty. Divided, in little green velvet compartments, +were all the things he had given her, even her watch, and stuck into the +recess that contained--the watch was a three-cornered note addressed +'Soames Forsyte,' in Irene's handwriting: + +'I think I have taken nothing that you or your people have given me.' +And that was all. + +He looked at the clasps and bracelets of diamonds and pearls, at the +little flat gold watch with a great diamond set in sapphires, at the +chains and rings, each in its nest, and the tears rushed up in his eyes +and dropped upon them. + +Nothing that she could have done, nothing that she had done, brought home +to him like this the inner significance of her act. For the moment, +perhaps, he understood nearly all there was to understand--understood +that she loathed him, that she had loathed him for years, that for all +intents and purposes they were like people living in different worlds, +that there was no hope for him, never had been; even, that she had +suffered--that she was to be pitied. + +In that moment of emotion he betrayed the Forsyte in him--forgot himself, +his interests, his property--was capable of almost anything; was lifted +into the pure ether of the selfless and unpractical. + +Such moments pass quickly. + +And as though with the tears he had purged himself of weakness, he got +up, locked the box, and slowly, almost trembling, carried it with him +into the other room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JUNE'S VICTORY + +June had waited for her chance, scanning the duller columns of the +journals, morning and evening with an assiduity which at first puzzled +old Jolyon; and when her chance came, she took it with all the +promptitude and resolute tenacity of her character. + +She will always remember best in her life that morning when at last she +saw amongst the reliable Cause List of the Times newspaper, under the +heading of Court XIII, Mr. Justice Bentham, the case of Forsyte v. +Bosinney. + +Like a gambler who stakes his last piece of money, she had prepared to +hazard her all upon this throw; it was not her nature to contemplate +defeat. How, unless with the instinct of a woman in love, she knew that +Bosinney's discomfiture in this action was assured, cannot be told--on +this assumption, however, she laid her plans, as upon a certainty. + +Half past eleven found her at watch in the gallery of Court XIII., and +there she remained till the case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was over. +Bosinney's absence did not disquiet her; she had felt instinctively that +he would not defend himself. At the end of the judgment she hastened +down, and took a cab to his rooms. + +She passed the open street-door and the offices on the three lower floors +without attracting notice; not till she reached the top did her +difficulties begin. + +Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind whether she +would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement to let her in to +await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently outside the door, +trusting that no one would, come up. She decided on the latter course. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in freezing vigil on the landing, before +it occurred to her that Bosinney had been used to leave the key of his +rooms under the door-mat. She looked and found it there. For some +minutes she could not decide to make use of it; at last she let herself +in and left the door open that anyone who came might see she was there on +business. + +This was not the same June who had paid the trembling visit five months +ago; those months of suffering and restraint had made her less sensitive; +she had dwelt on this visit so long, with such minuteness, that its +terrors were discounted beforehand. She was not there to fail this time, +for if she failed no one could help her. + +Like some mother beast on the watch over her young, her little quick +figure never stood still in that room, but wandered from wall to wall, +from window to door, fingering now one thing, now another. There was +dust everywhere, the room could not have been cleaned for weeks, and +June, quick to catch at anything that should buoy up her hope, saw in it +a sign that he had been obliged, for economy's sake, to give up his +servant. + +She looked into the bedroom; the bed was roughly made, as though by the +hand of man. Listening intently, she darted in, and peered into his +cupboards. A few shirts and collars, a pair of muddy boots--the room was +bare even of garments. + +She stole back to the sitting-room, and now she noticed the absence of +all the little things he had set store by. The clock that had been his +mother's, the field-glasses that had hung over the sofa; two really +valuable old prints of Harrow, where his father had been at school, and +last, not least, the piece of Japanese pottery she herself had given him. +All were gone; and in spite of the rage roused within her championing +soul at the thought that the world should treat him thus, their +disappearance augured happily for the success of her plan. + +It was while looking at the spot where the piece of Japanese pottery had +stood that she felt a strange certainty of being watched, and, turning, +saw Irene in the open doorway. + +The two stood gazing at each other for a minute in silence; then June +walked forward and held out her hand. Irene did not take it. + +When her hand was refused, June put it behind her. Her eyes grew steady +with anger; she waited for Irene to speak; and thus waiting, took in, +with who-knows-what rage of jealousy, suspicion, and curiosity, every +detail of her friend's face and dress and figure. + +Irene was clothed in her long grey fur; the travelling cap on her head +left a wave of gold hair visible above her forehead. The soft fullness +of the coat made her face as small as a child's. + +Unlike June's cheeks, her cheeks had no colour in them, but were ivory +white and pinched as if with cold. Dark circles lay round her eyes. In +one hand she held a bunch of violets. + +She looked back at June, no smile on her lips; and with those great dark +eyes fastened on her, the girl, for all her startled anger, felt +something of the old spell. + +She spoke first, after all. + +"What have you come for?" But the feeling that she herself was being +asked the same question, made her add: "This horrible case. I came to +tell him--he has lost it." + +Irene did not speak, her eyes never moved from June's face, and the girl +cried: + +"Don't stand there as if you were made of stone!" + +Irene laughed: "I wish to God I were!" + +But June turned away: "Stop!" she cried, "don't tell me! I don't want to +hear! I don't want to hear what you've come for. I don't want to hear!" +And like some uneasy spirit, she began swiftly walking to and fro. +Suddenly she broke out: + +"I was here first. We can't both stay here together!" + +On Irene's face a smile wandered up, and died out like a flicker of +firelight. She did not move. And then it was that June perceived under +the softness and immobility of this figure something desperate and +resolved; something not to be turned away, something dangerous. She tore +off her hat, and, putting both hands to her brow, pressed back the bronze +mass of her hair. + +"You have no right here!" she cried defiantly. + +Irene answered: "I have no right anywhere! + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have left Soames. You always wanted me to!" + +June put her hands over her ears. + +"Don't! I don't want to hear anything--I don't want to know anything. +It's impossible to fight with you! What makes you stand like that? Why +don't you go?" + +Irene's lips moved; she seemed to be saying: "Where should I go?" + +June turned to the window. She could see the face of a clock down in the +street. It was nearly four. At any moment he might come! She looked +back across her shoulder, and her face was distorted with anger. + +But Irene had not moved; in her gloved hands she ceaselessly turned and +twisted the little bunch of violets. + +The tears of rage and disappointment rolled down June's cheeks. + +"How could you come?" she said. "You have been a false friend to me!" + +Again Irene laughed. June saw that she had played a wrong card, and +broke down. + +"Why have you come?" she sobbed. "You've ruined my life, and now you +want to ruin his!" + +Irene's mouth quivered; her eyes met June's with a look so mournful that +the girl cried out in the midst of her sobbing, "No, no!" + +But Irene's head bent till it touched her breast. She turned, and went +quickly out, hiding her lips with the little bunch of violets. + +June ran to the door. She heard the footsteps going down and down. She +called out: "Come back, Irene! Come back!" + +The footsteps died away.... + +Bewildered and torn, the girl stood at the top of the stairs. Why had +Irene gone, leaving her mistress of the field? What did it mean? Had +she really given him up to her? Or had she...? And she was the prey of +a gnawing uncertainty.... Bosinney did not come.... + +About six o'clock that afternoon old Jolyon returned from Wistaria +Avenue, where now almost every day he spent some hours, and asked if his +grand-daughter were upstairs. On being told that she had just come in, +he sent up to her room to request her to come down and speak to him. + +He had made up his mind to tell her that he was reconciled with her +father. In future bygones must be bygones. He would no longer live +alone, or practically alone, in this great house; he was going to give it +up, and take one in the country for his son, where they could all go and +live together. If June did not like this, she could have an allowance +and live by herself. It wouldn't make much difference to her, for it was +a long time since she had shown him any affection. + +But when June came down, her face was pinched and piteous; there was a +strained, pathetic look in her eyes. She snuggled up in her old attitude +on the arm of his chair, and what he said compared but poorly with the +clear, authoritative, injured statement he had thought out with much +care. His heart felt sore, as the great heart of a mother-bird feels +sore when its youngling flies and bruises its wing. His words halted, as +though he were apologizing for having at last deviated from the path of +virtue, and succumbed, in defiance of sounder principles, to his more +natural instincts. + +He seemed nervous lest, in thus announcing his intentions, he should be +setting his granddaughter a bad example; and now that he came to the +point, his way of putting the suggestion that, if she didn't like it, she +could live by herself and lump it, was delicate in the extreme.' + +"And if, by any chance, my darling," he said, "you found you didn't get +on--with them, why, I could make that all right. You could have what you +liked. We could find a little flat in London where you could set up, and +I could be running to continually. But the children," he added, "are dear +little things!" + +Then, in the midst of this grave, rather transparent, explanation of +changed policy, his eyes twinkled. "This'll astonish Timothy's weak +nerves. That precious young thing will have something to say about this, +or I'm a Dutchman!" + +June had not yet spoken. Perched thus on the arm of his chair, with her +head above him, her face was invisible. But presently he felt her warm +cheek against his own, and knew that, at all events, there was nothing +very alarming in her attitude towards his news. He began to take +courage. + +"You'll like your father," he said--"an amiable chap. Never was much +push about him, but easy to get on with. You'll find him artistic and +all that." + +And old Jolyon bethought him of the dozen or so water-colour drawings all +carefully locked up in his bedroom; for now that his son was going to +become a man of property he did not think them quite such poor things as +heretofore. + +"As to your--your stepmother," he said, using the word with some little +difficulty, "I call her a refined woman--a bit of a Mrs. Gummidge, I +shouldn't wonder--but very fond of Jo. And the children," he +repeated--indeed, this sentence ran like music through all his solemn +self-justification--"are sweet little things!" + +If June had known, those words but reincarnated that tender love for +little children, for the young and weak, which in the past had made him +desert his son for her tiny self, and now, as the cycle rolled, was +taking him from her. + +But he began to get alarmed at her silence, and asked impatiently: "Well, +what do you say?" + +June slid down to his knee, and she in her turn began her tale. She +thought it would all go splendidly; she did not see any difficulty, and +she did not care a bit what people thought. + +Old Jolyon wriggled. H'm! then people would think! He had thought that +after all these years perhaps they wouldn't! Well, he couldn't help it! +Nevertheless, he could not approve of his granddaughter's way of putting +it--she ought to mind what people thought! + +Yet he said nothing. His feelings were too mixed, too inconsistent for +expression. + +No--went on June he did not care; what business was it of theirs? There +was only one thing--and with her cheek pressing against his knee, old +Jolyon knew at once that this something was no trifle: As he was going to +buy a house in the country, would he not--to please her--buy that +splendid house of Soames' at Robin Hill? It was finished, it was +perfectly beautiful, and no one would live in it now. They would all be +so happy there. + +Old Jolyon was on the alert at once. Wasn't the 'man of property' going +to live in his new house, then? He never alluded to Soames now but under +this title. + +"No"--June said--"he was not; she knew that he was not!" + +How did she know? + +She could not tell him, but she knew. She knew nearly for certain! It +was most unlikely; circumstances had changed! Irene's words still rang in +her head: "I have left Soames. Where should I go?" + +But she kept silence about that. + +If her grandfather would only buy it and settle that wretched claim that +ought never to have been made on Phil! It would be the very best thing +for everybody, and everything--everything might come straight. + +And June put her lips to his forehead, and pressed them close. + +But old Jolyon freed himself from her caress, his face wore the judicial +look which came upon it when he dealt with affairs. He asked: What did +she mean? There was something behind all this--had she been seeing +Bosinney? + +June answered: "No; but I have been to his rooms." + +"Been to his rooms? Who took you there?" + +June faced him steadily. "I went alone. He has lost that case. I don't +care whether it was right or wrong. I want to help him; and I will!" + +Old Jolyon asked again: "Have you seen him?" His glance seemed to pierce +right through the girl's eyes into her soul. + +Again June answered: "No; he was not there. I waited, but he did not +come." + +Old Jolyon made a movement of relief. She had risen and looked down at +him; so slight, and light, and young, but so fixed, and so determined; +and disturbed, vexed, as he was, he could not frown away that fixed look. +The feeling of being beaten, of the reins having slipped, of being old +and tired, mastered him. + +"Ah!" he said at last, "you'll get yourself into a mess one of these +days, I can see. You want your own way in everything." + +Visited by one of his strange bursts of philosophy, he added: "Like that +you were born; and like that you'll stay until you die!" + +And he, who in his dealings with men of business, with Boards, with +Forsytes of all descriptions, with such as were not Forsytes, had always +had his own way, looked at his indomitable grandchild sadly--for he felt +in her that quality which above all others he unconsciously admired. + +"Do you know what they say is going on?" he said slowly. + +June crimsoned. + +"Yes--no! I know--and I don't know--I don't care!" and she stamped her +foot. + +"I believe," said old Jolyon, dropping his eyes, "that you'd have him if +he were dead!" + +There was a long silence before he spoke again. + +"But as to buying this house--you don't know what you're talking about!" + +June said that she did. She knew that he could get it if he wanted. He +would only have to give what it cost. + +"What it cost! You know nothing about it. I won't go to Soames--I'll +have nothing more to do with that young man." + +"But you needn't; you can go to Uncle James. If you can't buy the house, +will you pay his lawsuit claim? I know he is terribly hard up--I've seen +it. You can stop it out of my money!" + +A twinkle came into old Jolyon's eyes. + +"Stop it out of your money! A pretty way. And what will you do, pray, +without your money?" + +But secretly, the idea of wresting the house from James and his son had +begun to take hold of him. He had heard on Forsyte 'Change much comment, +much rather doubtful praise of this house. It was 'too artistic,' but a +fine place. To take from the 'man of property' that on which he had set +his heart, would be a crowning triumph over James, practical proof that +he was going to make a man of property of Jo, to put him back in his +proper position, and there to keep him secure. Justice once for all on +those who had chosen to regard his son as a poor, penniless outcast. + +He would see, he would see! It might be out of the question; he was not +going to pay a fancy price, but if it could be done, why, perhaps he +would do it! + +And still more secretly he knew that he could not refuse her. + +But he did not commit himself. He would think it over--he said to June. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BOSINNEY'S DEPARTURE + +Old Jolyon was not given to hasty decisions; it is probable that he +would have continued to think over the purchase of the house at Robin +Hill, had not June's face told him that he would have no peace until he +acted. + +At breakfast next morning she asked him what time she should order the +carriage. + +"Carriage!" he said, with some appearance of innocence; "what for? I'm +not going out!" + +She answered: "If you don't go early, you won't catch Uncle James before +he goes into the City." + +"James! what about your Uncle James?" + +"The house," she replied, in such a voice that he no longer pretended +ignorance. + +"I've not made up my mind," he said. + +"You must! You must! Oh! Gran--think of me!" + +Old Jolyon grumbled out: "Think of you--I'm always thinking of you, but +you don't think of yourself; you don't think what you're letting yourself +in for. Well, order the carriage at ten!" + +At a quarter past he was placing his umbrella in the stand at Park +Lane--he did not choose to relinquish his hat and coat; telling Warmson +that he wanted to see his master, he went, without being announced, into +the study, and sat down. + +James was still in the dining-room talking to Soames, who had come round +again before breakfast. On hearing who his visitor was, he muttered +nervously: "Now, what's he want, I wonder?" + +He then got up. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "don't you go doing anything in a hurry. The +first thing is to find out where she is--I should go to Stainer's about +it; they're the best men, if they can't find her, nobody can." And +suddenly moved to strange softness, he muttered to himself, "Poor little +thing, I can't tell what she was thinking about!" and went out blowing +his nose. + +Old Jolyon did not rise on seeing his brother, but held out his hand, and +exchanged with him the clasp of a Forsyte. + +James took another chair by the table, and leaned his head on his hand. + +"Well," he said, "how are you? We don't see much of you nowadays!" + +Old Jolyon paid no attention to the remark. + +"How's Emily?" he asked; and waiting for no reply, went on "I've come to +see you about this affair of young Bosinney's. I'm told that new house +of his is a white elephant." + +"I don't know anything about a white elephant," said James, "I know he's +lost his case, and I should say he'll go bankrupt." + +Old Jolyon was not slow to seize the opportunity this gave him. + +"I shouldn't wonder a bit!" he agreed; "and if he goes bankrupt, the 'man +of property'--that is, Soames'll be out of pocket. Now, what I was +thinking was this: If he's not going to live there...." + +Seeing both surprise and suspicion in James' eye, he quickly went on: "I +don't want to know anything; I suppose Irene's put her foot down--it's +not material to me. But I'm thinking of a house in the country myself, +not too far from London, and if it suited me I don't say that I mightn't +look at it, at a price." + +James listened to this statement with a strange mixture of doubt, +suspicion, and relief, merging into a dread of something behind, and +tinged with the remains of his old undoubted reliance upon his elder +brother's good faith and judgment. There was anxiety, too, as to what +old Jolyon could have heard and how he had heard it; and a sort of +hopefulness arising from the thought that if June's connection with +Bosinney were completely at an end, her grandfather would hardly seem +anxious to help the young fellow. Altogether he was puzzled; as he did +not like either to show this, or to commit himself in any way, he said: + +"They tell me you're altering your Will in favour of your son." + +He had not been told this; he had merely added the fact of having seen +old Jolyon with his son and grandchildren to the fact that he had taken +his Will away from Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte. The shot went home. + +"Who told you that?" asked old Jolyon. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said James; "I can't remember names--I know +somebody told me Soames spent a lot of money on this house; he's not +likely to part with it except at a good price." + +"Well," said old Jolyon, "if, he thinks I'm going to pay a fancy price, +he's mistaken. I've not got the money to throw away that he seems to +have. Let him try and sell it at a forced sale, and see what he'll get. +It's not every man's house, I hear!" + +James, who was secretly also of this opinion, answered: "It's a +gentleman's house. Soames is here now if you'd like to see him." + +"No," said old Jolyon, "I haven't got as far as that; and I'm not likely +to, I can see that very well if I'm met in this manner!" + +James was a little cowed; when it came to the actual figures of a +commercial transaction he was sure of himself, for then he was dealing +with facts, not with men; but preliminary negotiations such as these made +him nervous--he never knew quite how far he could go. + +"Well," he said, "I know nothing about it. Soames, he tells me nothing; +I should think he'd entertain it--it's a question of price." + +"Oh!" said old Jolyon, "don't let him make a favour of it!" He placed his +hat on his head in dudgeon. + +The door was opened and Soames came in. + +"There's a policeman out here," he said with his half smile, "for Uncle +Jolyon." + +Old Jolyon looked at him angrily, and James said: "A policeman? I don't +know anything about a policeman. But I suppose you know something about +him," he added to old Jolyon with a look of suspicion: "I suppose you'd +better see him!" + +In the hall an Inspector of Police stood stolidly regarding with +heavy-lidded pale-blue eyes the fine old English furniture picked up by +James at the famous Mavrojano sale in Portman Square. "You'll find my +brother in there," said James. + +The Inspector raised his fingers respectfully to his peaked cap, and +entered the study. + +James saw him go in with a strange sensation. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "I suppose we must wait and see what he wants. +Your uncle's been here about the house!" + +He returned with Soames into the dining-room, but could not rest. + +"Now what does he want?" he murmured again. + +"Who?" replied Soames: "the Inspector? They sent him round from Stanhope +Gate, that's all I know. That 'nonconformist' of Uncle Jolyon's has been +pilfering, I shouldn't wonder!" + +But in spite of his calmness, he too was ill at ease. + +At the end of ten minutes old Jolyon came in. He walked up to the table, +and stood there perfectly silent pulling at his long white moustaches. +James gazed up at him with opening mouth; he had never seen his brother +look like this. + +Old Jolyon raised his hand, and said slowly: + +"Young Bosinney has been run over in the fog and killed." + +Then standing above his brother and his nephew, and looking down at him +with his deep eyes: + +"There's--some--talk--of--suicide," he said. + +James' jaw dropped. "Suicide! What should he do that for?" + +Old Jolyon answered sternly: "God knows, if you and your son don't!" + +But James did not reply. + +For all men of great age, even for all Forsytes, life has had bitter +experiences. The passer-by, who sees them wrapped in cloaks of custom, +wealth, and comfort, would never suspect that such black shadows had +fallen on their roads. To every man of great age--to Sir Walter Bentham +himself--the idea of suicide has once at least been present in the +ante-room of his soul; on the threshold, waiting to enter, held out from +the inmost chamber by some chance reality, some vague fear, some painful +hope. To Forsytes that final renunciation of property is hard. Oh! it +is hard! Seldom--perhaps never--can they achieve, it; and yet, how near +have they not sometimes been! + +So even with James! Then in the medley of his thoughts, he broke out: +"Why I saw it in the paper yesterday: 'Run over in the fog!' They didn't +know his name!" He turned from one face to the other in his confusion of +soul; but instinctively all the time he was rejecting that rumour of +suicide. He dared not entertain this thought, so against his interest, +against the interest of his son, of every Forsyte. He strove against it; +and as his nature ever unconsciously rejected that which it could not +with safety accept, so gradually he overcame this fear. It was an +accident! It must have been! + +Old Jolyon broke in on his reverie. + +"Death was instantaneous. He lay all day yesterday at the hospital. +There was nothing to tell them who he was. I am going there now; you and +your son had better come too." + +No one opposing this command he led the way from the room. + +The day was still and clear and bright, and driving over to Park Lane +from Stanhope Gate, old Jolyon had had the carriage open. Sitting back on +the padded cushions, finishing his cigar, he had noticed with pleasure +the keen crispness of the air, the bustle of the cabs and people; the +strange, almost Parisian, alacrity that the first fine day will bring +into London streets after a spell of fog or rain. And he had felt so +happy; he had not felt like it for months. His confession to June was +off his mind; he had the prospect of his son's, above all, of his +grandchildren's company in the future--(he had appointed to meet young +Jolyon at the Hotch Potch that very manning to--discuss it again); and +there was the pleasurable excitement of a coming encounter, a coming +victory, over James and the 'man of property' in the matter of the house. + +He had the carriage closed now; he had no heart to look on gaiety; nor +was it right that Forsytes should be seen driving with an Inspector of +Police. + +In that carriage the Inspector spoke again of the death: + +"It was not so very thick--Just there. The driver says the gentleman +must have had time to see what he was about, he seemed to walk right into +it. It appears that he was very hard up, we found several pawn tickets +at his rooms, his account at the bank is overdrawn, and there's this case +in to-day's papers;" his cold blue eyes travelled from one to another of +the three Forsytes in the carriage. + +Old Jolyon watching from his corner saw his brother's face change, and +the brooding, worried, look deepen on it. At the Inspector's words, +indeed, all James' doubts and fears revived. Hard-up--pawn-tickets--an +overdrawn account! These words that had all his life been a far-off +nightmare to him, seemed to make uncannily real that suspicion of suicide +which must on no account be entertained. He sought his son's eye; but +lynx-eyed, taciturn, immovable, Soames gave no answering look. And to +old Jolyon watching, divining the league of mutual defence between them, +there came an overmastering desire to have his own son at his side, as +though this visit to the dead man's body was a battle in which otherwise +he must single-handed meet those two. And the thought of how to keep +June's name out of the business kept whirring in his brain. James had +his son to support him! Why should he not send for Jo? + +Taking out his card-case, he pencilled the following message: + +'Come round at once. I've sent the carriage for you.' + +On getting out he gave this card to his coachman, telling him to +drive--as fast as possible to the Hotch Potch Club, and if Mr. Jolyon +Forsyte were there to give him the card and bring him at once. If not +there yet, he was to wait till he came. + +He followed the others slowly up the steps, leaning on his umbrella, and +stood a moment to get his breath. The Inspector said: "This is the +mortuary, sir. But take your time." + +In the bare, white-walled room, empty of all but a streak of sunshine +smeared along the dustless floor, lay a form covered by a sheet. With a +huge steady hand the Inspector took the hem and turned it back. A +sightless face gazed up at them, and on either side of that sightless +defiant face the three Forsytes gazed down; in each one of them the +secret emotions, fears, and pity of his own nature rose and fell like the +rising, falling waves of life, whose wish those white walls barred out +now for ever from Bosinney. And in each one of them the trend of his +nature, the odd essential spring, which moved him in fashions minutely, +unalterably different from those of every other human being, forced him +to a different attitude of thought. Far from the others, yet inscrutably +close, each stood thus, alone with death, silent, his eyes lowered. + +The Inspector asked softly: + +"You identify the gentleman, sir?" + +Old Jolyon raised his head and nodded. He looked at his brother +opposite, at that long lean figure brooding over the dead man, with face +dusky red, and strained grey eyes; and at the figure of Soames white and +still by his father's side. And all that he had felt against those two +was gone like smoke in the long white presence of Death. Whence comes +it, how comes it--Death? Sudden reverse of all that goes before; blind +setting forth on a path that leads to where? Dark quenching of the fire! +The heavy, brutal crushing--out that all men must go through, keeping +their eyes clear and brave unto the end! Small and of no import, insects +though they are! And across old Jolyon's face there flitted a gleam, for +Soames, murmuring to the Inspector, crept noiselessly away. + +Then suddenly James raised his eyes. There was a queer appeal in that +suspicious troubled look: "I know I'm no match for you," it seemed to +say. And, hunting for handkerchief he wiped his brow; then, bending +sorrowful and lank over the dead man, he too turned and hurried out. + +Old Jolyon stood, still as death, his eyes fixed on the body. Who shall +tell of what he was thinking? Of himself, when his hair was brown like +the hair of that young fellow dead before him? Of himself, with his +battle just beginning, the long, long battle he had loved; the battle +that was over for this young man almost before it had begun? Of his +grand-daughter, with her broken hopes? Of that other woman? Of the +strangeness, and the pity of it? And the irony, inscrutable, and bitter +of that end? Justice! There was no justice for men, for they were ever +in the dark! + +Or perhaps in his philosophy he thought: Better to be out of, it all! +Better to have done with it, like this poor youth.... + +Some one touched him on the arm. + +A tear started up and wetted his eyelash. "Well," he said, "I'm no good +here. I'd better be going. You'll come to me as soon as you can, Jo," +and with his head bowed he went away. + +It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, round +whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes breathless, and +prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly. + +The forces underlying every tragedy--forces that take no denial, working +through cross currents to their ironical end, had met and fused with a +thunder-clap, flung out the victim, and flattened to the ground all those +that stood around. + +Or so at all events young Jolyon seemed to see them, lying around +Bosinney's body. + +He asked the Inspector to tell him what had happened, and the latter, +like a man who does not every day get such a chance, again detailed such +facts as were known. + +"There's more here, sir, however," he said, "than meets the eye. I don't +believe in suicide, nor in pure accident, myself. It's more likely I +think that he was suffering under great stress of mind, and took no +notice of things about him. Perhaps you can throw some light on these." + +He took from his pocket a little packet and laid it on the table. +Carefully undoing it, he revealed a lady's handkerchief, pinned through +the folds with a pin of discoloured Venetian gold, the stone of which had +fallen from the socket. A scent of dried violets rose to young Jolyon's +nostrils. + +"Found in his breast pocket," said the Inspector; "the name has been cut +away!" + +Young Jolyon with difficulty answered: "I'm afraid I cannot help you!" +But vividly there rose before him the face he had seen light up, so +tremulous and glad, at Bosinney's coming! Of her he thought more than of +his own daughter, more than of them all--of her with the dark, soft +glance, the delicate passive face, waiting for the dead man, waiting even +at that moment, perhaps, still and patient in the sunlight. + +He walked sorrowfully away from the hospital towards his father's house, +reflecting that this death would break up the Forsyte family. The stroke +had indeed slipped past their defences into the very wood of their tree. +They might flourish to all appearance as before, preserving a brave show +before the eyes of London, but the trunk was dead, withered by the same +flash that had stricken down Bosinney. And now the saplings would take +its place, each one a new custodian of the sense of property. + +Good forest of Forsytes! thought young Jolyon--soundest timber of our +land! + +Concerning the cause of this death--his family would doubtless reject +with vigour the suspicion of suicide, which was so compromising! They +would take it as an accident, a stroke of fate. In their hearts they +would even feel it an intervention of Providence, a retribution--had not +Bosinney endangered their two most priceless possessions, the pocket and +the hearth? And they would talk of 'that unfortunate accident of young +Bosinney's,' but perhaps they would not talk--silence might be better! + +As for himself, he regarded the bus-driver's account of the accident as +of very little value. For no one so madly in love committed suicide for +want of money; nor was Bosinney the sort of fellow to set much store by a +financial crisis. And so he too rejected this theory of suicide, the +dead man's face rose too clearly before him. Gone in the heyday of his +summer--and to believe thus that an accident had cut Bosinney off in the +full sweep of his passion was more than ever pitiful to young Jolyon. + +Then came a vision of Soames' home as it now was, and must be hereafter. +The streak of lightning had flashed its clear uncanny gleam on bare bones +with grinning spaces between, the disguising flesh was gone.... + +In the dining-room at Stanhope Gate old Jolyon was sitting alone when his +son came in. He looked very wan in his great armchair. And his eyes +travelling round the walls with their pictures of still life, and the +masterpiece 'Dutch fishing-boats at Sunset' seemed as though passing +their gaze over his life with its hopes, its gains, its achievements. + +"Ah! Jo!" he said, "is that you? I've told poor little June. But that's +not all of it. Are you going to Soames'? She's brought it on herself, I +suppose; but somehow I can't bear to think of her, shut up there--and all +alone." And holding up his thin, veined hand, he clenched it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IRENE'S RETURN + +After leaving James and old Jolyon in the mortuary of the hospital, +Soames hurried aimlessly along the streets. + +The tragic event of Bosinney's death altered the complexion of +everything. There was no longer the same feeling that to lose a minute +would be fatal, nor would he now risk communicating the fact of his +wife's flight to anyone till the inquest was over. + +That morning he had risen early, before the postman came, had taken the +first-post letters from the box himself, and, though there had been none +from Irene, he had made an opportunity of telling Bilson that her +mistress was at the sea; he would probably, he said, be going down +himself from Saturday to Monday. This had given him time to breathe, time +to leave no stone unturned to find her. + +But now, cut off from taking steps by Bosinney's death--that strange +death, to think of which was like putting a hot iron to his heart, like +lifting a great weight from it--he did not know how to pass his day; and +he wandered here and there through the streets, looking at every face he +met, devoured by a hundred anxieties. + +And as he wandered, he thought of him who had finished his wandering, his +prowling, and would never haunt his house again. + +Already in the afternoon he passed posters announcing the identity of the +dead man, and bought the papers to see what they said. He would stop +their mouths if he could, and he went into the City, and was closeted +with Boulter for a long time. + +On his way home, passing the steps of Jobson's about half past four, he +met George Forsyte, who held out an evening paper to Soames, saying: + +"Here! Have you seen this about the poor Buccaneer?" + +Soames answered stonily: "Yes." + +George stared at him. He had never liked Soames; he now held him +responsible for Bosinney's death. Soames had done for him--done for him +by that act of property that had sent the Buccaneer to run amok that +fatal afternoon. + +'The poor fellow,' he was thinking, 'was so cracked with jealousy, so +cracked for his vengeance, that he heard nothing of the omnibus in that +infernal fog.' + +Soames had done for him! And this judgment was in George's eyes. + +"They talk of suicide here," he said at last. "That cat won't jump." + +Soames shook his head. "An accident," he muttered. + +Clenching his fist on the paper, George crammed it into his pocket. He +could not resist a parting shot. + +"H'mm! All flourishing at home? Any little Soameses yet?" + +With a face as white as the steps of Jobson's, and a lip raised as if +snarling, Soames brushed past him and was gone.... + +On reaching home, and entering the little lighted hall with his latchkey, +the first thing that caught his eye was his wife's gold-mounted umbrella +lying on the rug chest. Flinging off his fur coat, he hurried to the +drawing-room. + +The curtains were drawn for the night, a bright fire of cedar-logs burned +in the grate, and by its light he saw Irene sitting in her usual corner +on the sofa. He shut the door softly, and went towards her. She did not +move, and did not seem to see him. + +"So you've come back?" he said. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?" + +Then he caught sight of her face, so white and motionless that it seemed +as though the blood must have stopped flowing in her veins; and her eyes, +that looked enormous, like the great, wide, startled brown eyes of an +owl. + +Huddled in her grey fur against the sofa cushions, she had a strange +resemblance to a captive owl, bunched fir its soft feathers against the +wires of a cage. The supple erectness of her figure was gone, as though +she had been broken by cruel exercise; as though there were no longer any +reason for being beautiful, and supple, and erect. + +"So you've come back," he repeated. + +She never looked up, and never spoke, the firelight playing over her +motionless figure. + +Suddenly she tried to rise, but he prevented her; it was then that he +understood. + +She had come back like an animal wounded to death, not knowing where to +turn, not knowing what she was doing. The sight of her figure, huddled +in the fur, was enough. + +He knew then for certain that Bosinney had been her lover; knew that she +had seen the report of his death--perhaps, like himself, had bought a +paper at the draughty corner of a street, and read it. + +She had come back then of her own accord, to the cage she had pined to be +free of--and taking in all the tremendous significance of this, he longed +to cry: "Take your hated body, that I love, out of my house! Take away +that pitiful white face, so cruel and soft--before I crush it. Get out +of my sight; never let me see you again!" + +And, at those unspoken words, he seemed to see her rise and move away, +like a woman in a terrible dream, from which she was fighting to +awake--rise and go out into the dark and cold, without a thought of him, +without so much as the knowledge of his presence. + +Then he cried, contradicting what he had not yet spoken, "No; stay +there!" And turning away from her, he sat down in his accustomed chair on +the other side of the hearth. + +They sat in silence. + +And Soames thought: 'Why is all this? Why should I suffer so? What have +I done? It is not my fault!' + +Again he looked at her, huddled like a bird that is shot and dying, whose +poor breast you see panting as the air is taken from it, whose poor eyes +look at you who have shot it, with a slow, soft, unseeing look, taking +farewell of all that is good--of the sun, and the air, and its mate. + +So they sat, by the firelight, in the silence, one on each side of the +hearth. + +And the fume of the burning cedar logs, that he loved so well, seemed to +grip Soames by the throat till he could bear it no longer. And going out +into the hall he flung the door wide, to gulp down the cold air that came +in; then without hat or overcoat went out into the Square. + +Along the garden rails a half-starved cat came rubbing her way towards +him, and Soames thought: 'Suffering! when will it cease, my suffering?' + +At a front door across the way was a man of his acquaintance named +Rutter, scraping his boots, with an air of 'I am master here.' And Soames +walked on. + +From far in the clear air the bells of the church where he and Irene had +been married were pealing in 'practice' for the advent of Christ, the +chimes ringing out above the sound of traffic. He felt a craving for +strong drink, to lull him to indifference, or rouse him to fury. If only +he could burst out of himself, out of this web that for the first time in +his life he felt around him. If only he could surrender to the thought: +'Divorce her--turn her out! She has forgotten you. Forget her!' + +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Let her go--she has suffered +enough!' + +If only he could surrender to the desire: 'Make a slave of her--she is +in your power!' + +If only even he could surrender to the sudden vision: 'What does it all +matter?' Forget himself for a minute, forget that it mattered what he +did, forget that whatever he did he must sacrifice something. + +If only he could act on an impulse! + +He could forget nothing; surrender to no thought, vision, or desire; it +was all too serious; too close around him, an unbreakable cage. + +On the far side of the Square newspaper boys were calling their evening +wares, and the ghoulish cries mingled and jangled with the sound of those +church bells. + +Soames covered his ears. The thought flashed across him that but for a +chance, he himself, and not Bosinney, might be lying dead, and she, +instead of crouching there like a shot bird with those dying eyes.... + +Something soft touched his legs, the cat was rubbing herself against +them. And a sob that shook him from head to foot burst from Soames' +chest. Then all was still again in the dark, where the houses seemed to +stare at him, each with a master and mistress of its own, and a secret +story of happiness or sorrow. + +And suddenly he saw that his own door was open, and black against the +light from the hall a man standing with his back turned. Something slid +too in his breast, and he stole up close behind. + +He could see his own fur coat flung across the carved oak chair; the +Persian rugs; the silver bowls, the rows of porcelain plates arranged +along the walls, and this unknown man who was standing there. + +And sharply he asked: "What is it you want, sir?" + +The visitor turned. It was young Jolyon. + +"The door was open," he said. "Might I see your wife for a minute, I +have a message for her?" + +Soames gave him a strange, sidelong stare. + +"My wife can see no one," he muttered doggedly. + +Young Jolyon answered gently: "I shouldn't keep her a minute." + +Soames brushed by him and barred the way. + +"She can see no one," he said again. + +Young Jolyon's glance shot past him into the hall, and Soames turned. +There in the drawing-room doorway stood Irene, her eyes were wild and +eager, her lips were parted, her hands outstretched. In the sight of +both men that light vanished from her face; her hands dropped to her +sides; she stood like stone. + +Soames spun round, and met his visitor's eyes, and at the look he saw in +them, a sound like a snarl escaped him. He drew his lips back in the +ghost of a smile. + +"This is my house," he said; "I manage my own affairs. I've told you +once--I tell you again; we are not at home." + +And in young Jolyon's face he slammed the door. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man of Property, by John Galsworthy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN OF PROPERTY *** + +***** This file should be named 2559.txt or 2559.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/2/5/5/2559/ + +Produced by David Widger +Proofing of a previous edition by Fredrik Hausmann + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by David Widger, < widger@cecomet.net > + + + + + +[Spelling conforms to the original: "s's" instead of our "z's"; +and "c's" where we would have "s's"; and "...our" as in colour +and flavour; many interesting double consonants; etc.] + + + + + +Man of Property + +by John Galsworthy + + + + +THE WORKS OF JOHN GALSWORTHY + +VOLUME I + + + + +TO MY WIFE: + +I DEDICATE THE FORSYTE SAGA IN ITS ENTIRETY, +BELIEVING IT TO BE OF ALL MY WORKS THE LEAST +UNWORTHY OF ONE WITHOUT WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT, +SYMPATHY AND CRITICISM COULD NEVER HAVE +BECOME EVEN SUCH A WRITER AS I AM. + + + + +PREFACE: + +"The Forsyte Saga" was the title originally destined for that +part of it which is called "The Man of Property"; and to adopt it +for the collected chronicles of the Forsyte family has indulged +the Forsytean tenacity that is in all of us. The word Saga might +be objected to on the ground that it connotes the heroic and that +there is little heroism in these pages. But it is used with a +suitable irony; and, after all, this long tale, though it may +deal with folk in frock coats, furbelows, and a gilt-edged +period, is not devoid of the essential beat of conflict. +Discounting for the gigantic stature and blood-thirstiness of old +days, as they have come down to us in fairy-tale and legend, the +folk of the old Sagas were Forsytes, assuredly, in their +possessive instincts, and as little proof against the inroads of +beauty and passion as Swithin, Soames, or even Young Jolyon. And +if heroic figures, in days that never were, seem to startle out +from their surroundings in fashion unbecoming to a Forsyte of the +Victorian era, we may be sure that tribal instinct was even then +the prime force, and that "family" and the sense of home and +property counted as they do to this day, for all the recent +efforts to "talk them out." + +So many people have written and claimed that their families were +the originals of the Forsytes that one has been almost encouraged +to believe in the typicality of an imagined species. Manners +change and modes evolve, and "Timothy's on the Bayswater Road" +becomes a nest of the unbelievable in all except essentials; we +shall not look upon its like again, nor perhaps on such a one as +James or Old Jolyon. And yet the figures of Insurance Societies +and the utterances of Judges reassure us daily that our earthly +paradise is still a rich preserve, where the wild raiders, Beauty +and Passion, come stealing in, filching security from beneath our +noses. As surely as a dog will bark at a brass band, so will the +essential Soames in human nature ever rise up uneasily against +the dissolution which hovers round the folds of ownership. + +"Let the dead Past bury its dead" would be a better saying if the +Past ever died. The persistence of the Past is one of those +tragi-comic blessings which each new age denies, coming cocksure +on to the stage to mouth its claim to a perfect novelty. + +But no Age is so new as that! Human Nature, under its changing +pretensions and clothes, is and ever will be very much of a +Forsyte, and might, after all, be a much worse animal. + +Looking back on the Victorian era, whose ripeness, decline, and +'fall-of' is in some sort pictured in "The Forsyte Saga," we see +now that we have but jumped out of a frying-pan into a fire. It +would be difficult to substantiate a claim that the case of +England was better in 1913 than it was in 1886, when the Forsytes +assembled at Old Jolyon's to celebrate the engagement of June to +Philip Bosinney. And in 1920, when again the clan gathered to +bless the marriage of Fleur with Michael Mont, the state of +England is as surely too molten and bankrupt as in the eighties +it was too congealed and low-percented. If these chronicles had + +been a really scientific study of transition one would have dwelt +probably on such factors as the invention of bicycle, motor-car, +and flying-machine; the arrival of a cheap Press; the decline of +country life and increase of the towns; the birth of the Cinema. +Men are, in fact, quite unable to control their own inventions; +they at best develop adaptability to the new conditions those +inventions create. + +But this long tale is no scientific study of a period; it is +rather an intimate incarnation of the disturbance that Beauty +effects in the lives of men. + +The figure of Irene, never, as the reader may possibly have +observed, present, except through the senses of other characters, +is a concretion of disturbing Beauty impinging on a possessive +world. + +One has noticed that readers, as they wade on through the salt +waters of the Saga, are inclined more and more to pity Soames, +and to think that in doing so they are in revolt against the mood +of his creator. Far from it! He, too, pities Soames, the +tragedy of whose life is the very simple, uncontrollable tragedy +of being unlovable, without quite a thick enough skin to be +thoroughly unconscious of the fact. Not even Fleur loves Soames +as he feels he ought to be loved. But in pitying Soames, readers +incline, perhaps, to animus against Irene: After all, they think, +he wasn't a bad fellow, it wasn't his fault; she ought to have +forgiven him, and so on! + +And, taking sides, they lose perception of the simple truth, +which underlies the whole story, that where sex attraction is +utterly and definitely lacking in one partner to a union, no +amount of pity, or reason, or duty, or what not, can overcome a +repulsion implicit in Nature. Whether it ought to, or no, is +beside the point; because in fact it never does. And where Irene +seems hard and cruel, as in the Bois de Boulogne, or the Goupenor +Gallery, she is but wisely realistic--knowing that the least +concession is the inch which precedes the impossible, the +repulsive ell. + +A criticism one might pass on the last phase of the Saga is the +complaint that Irene and Jolyon those rebels against property-- +claim spiritual property in their son Jon. But it would be +hypercriticism, as the tale is told. No father and mother could +have let the boy marry Fleur without knowledge of the facts; and +the facts determine Jon, not the persuasion of his parents. +Moreover, Jolyon's persuasion is not on his own account, but on +Irene's, and Irene's persuasion becomes a reiterated: "Don't +think of me, think of yourself!" That Jon, knowing the facts, can +realise his mother's feelings, will hardly with justice be held +proof that she is, after all, a Forsyte. + +But though the impingement of Beauty and the claims of Freedom on +a possessive world are the main prepossessions of the Forsyte +Saga, it cannot be absolved from the charge of embalming the +upper-middle class. As the old Egyptians placed around their +mummies the necessaries of a future existence, so I have +endeavoured to lay beside the, figures of Aunts Ann and Juley and +Hester, of Timothy and Swithin, of Old Jolyon and James, and of +their sons, that which shall guarantee them a little life here- +after, a little balm in the hurried Gilead of a dissolving +"Progress." + +If the upper-middle class, with other classes, is destined to +"move on" into amorphism, here, pickled in these pages, it lies +under glass for strollers in the wide and ill-arranged museum of +Letters. Here it rests, preserved in its own juice: The Sense +of Property. + +1922. + + + + +THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +by JOHN GALSWORTHY + + + + +"........ You will answer +The slaves are ours ....." +-Merchant of Venice. + + + + +TO EDWARD GARNETT + + + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER I + +'AT HOME' AT OLD JOLYON'S + + +Those privileged to be present at a family festival of the +Forsytes have seen that charming and instructive sight--an upper +middle-class family in full plumage. But whosoever of these +favoured persons has possessed the gift of psychological analysis +(a talent without monetary value and properly ignored by the +Forsytes), has witnessed a spectacle, not only delightful in +itself, but illustrative of an obscure human problem. In plainer +words, he has gleaned from a gathering of this family--no branch +of which had a liking for the other, between no three members of +whom existed anything worthy of the name of sympathy--evidence of +that mysterious concrete tenacity which renders a family so +formidable a unit of society, so clear a reproduction of society +in miniature. He has been admitted to a vision of the dim roads +of social progress, has understood something of patriarchal life, +of the swarmings of savage hordes, of the rise and fall of +nations. He is like one who, having watched a tree grow from its +planting--a paragon of tenacity, insulation, and success, amidst +the deaths of a hundred other plants less fibrous, sappy, and +persistent--one day will see it flourishing with bland, full +foliage, in an almost repugnant prosperity, at the summit of its +efflorescence. + +On June 15, eighteen eighty-six, about four of the afternoon, the +observer who chanced to be present at the house of old Jolyon +Forsyte in Stanhope Gate, might have seen the highest +efflorescence of the Forsytes. + +This was the occasion of an 'at home' to celebrate the engagement +of Miss June Forsyte, old Jolyon's granddaughter, to Mr. Philip +Bosinney. In the bravery of light gloves, buff waistcoats, +feathers and frocks, the family were present, even Aunt Ann, who +now but seldom left the comer of her brother Timothy's green +drawing-room, where, under the aegis of a plume of dyed pampas +grass in a light blue vase, she sat all day reading and knitting, +surrounded by the effigies of three generations of Forsytes. +Even Aunt Ann was there; her inflexible back, and the dignity of +her calm old face personifying the rigid possessiveness of the +family idea. + +When a Forsyte was engaged, married, or born, the Forsytes were +present; when a Forsyte died--but no Forsyte had as yet died; +they did not die; death being contrary to their principles, they +took precautions against it, the instinctive precautions of +highly vitalized persons who resent encroachments on their +property. + +About the Forsytes mingling that day with the crowd of other +guests, there was a more than ordinarily groomed look, an alert, +inquisitive assurance, a brilliant respectability, as though they +were attired in defiance of something. The habitual sniff on the +face of Soames Forsyte had spread through their ranks; they were +on their guard. + +The subconscious offensiveness of their attitude has constituted +old Jolyon's 'home' the psychological moment of the family +history, made it the prelude of their drama. + +The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but +as a family; this resentment expressed itself in an added +perfection of raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an +exaggeration of family importance, and--the sniff. Danger--so +indispensable in bringing out the fundamental quality of any +society, group, or individual--was what the Forsytes scented; the +premonition of danger put a burnish on their armour. For the +first time, as a family, they appeared to have an instinct of +being in contact, with some strange and unsafe thing. + +Over against the piano a man of bulk and stature was wearing two +waistcoats on his wide chest, two waistcoats and a ruby pin, +instead of the single satin waistcoat and diamond pin of, more +usual occasions, and his shaven, square, old -face, the colour of +pale leather, with pale eyes, had its most dignified look, above +his satin stock. This was Swithin Forsyte. Close to the window, +where he could get more than his fair share of fresh air, the +other twin, James--the fat and the lean of it, old Jolyon called +these brothers--like the bulky Swithin, over six feet in height, +but very lean, as though destined from his birth to strike a +balance and maintain an average, brooded over the scene with his +permanent stoop; his grey eyes had an air of fixed absorption in +some secret worry, broken at intervals by a rapid, shifting +scrutiny of surrounding facts; his cheeks, thinned by two +parallel folds, and a long, clean-shaven upper lip, were framed +within Dundreary whiskers. In his hands he turned and turned a +piece of china. Not far off, listening to a lady in brown, his +only son Soames, pale and well-shaved, dark-haired, rather bald, +had poked his chin up sideways, carrying his nose with that +aforesaid appearance of 'sniff,' as though despising an egg which +he knew he could not digest. Behind him his cousin, the tall +George, son of the fifth Forsyte, Roger, had a Quilpish look on +his fleshy face, pondering one of his sardonic jests. Something +inherent to the occasion had affected them all. + +Seated in a row close to one another were three ladies--Aunts +Ann, Hester (the two Forsyte maids), and Juley (short for Julia), +who not in first youth had so far forgotten herself as to marry +Septimus Small, a man of poor constitution. She had survived him +for many years. With her elder and younger sister she lived now +in the house of Timothy, her sixth and youngest brother, on the +Bayswater Road. Each of these ladies held fans in their hands, +and each with some touch of Colour, some emphatic feather or +brooch, testified to the solemnity of the opportunity. + +In the centre of the room, under the chandelier, as became a +host, stood the head of the family, old Jolyon himself. Eighty +years of age, with his fine, white hair, his dome-like forehead, +his little, dark grey eyes, and an immense white moustache, which +drooped and spread below the level of his strong jaw, he had a +patriarchal look, and in spite of lean cheeks and hollows at his +temples, seemed master of perennial youth. He held him self +extremely upright, and his shrewd, steady eyes had lost none of +their clear shining. Thus he gave an impression of superiority +to the doubts and dislikes of smaller men. Having had his own +way for innumerable years, he had earned a prescriptive right to +it. It would never have occurred to old Jolyon that it was +necessary to wear a look of doubt or of defiance. + +Between him and the four other brothers who were present, James, +Swithin, Nicholas, and Roger, there was much difference, much +similarity. In turn, each of these four brothers was very +different from the other, yet they, too, were alike. + +Through the varying features and expression of those five faces +could be marked a certain steadfastness of chin, underlying +surface distinctions, marking a racial stamp, too prehistoric to +trace, too remote and permanent to discuss--the very hall-mark +and guarantee of the family for tunes. + +Among the younger generation, in the tall, bull-like George, in +pallid strenuous Archibald, in young Nicholas with his sweet and +tentative obstinacy, in the grave and foppishly determined +Eustace, there was this same stamp--less meaningful perhaps, but +unmistakable--a sign of something ineradicable in the family +soul. At one time or another during the afternoon, all these +faces, so dissimilar and so alike, had worn an expression of +distrust, the object of which was undoubtedly the man whose +acquaintance they were thus assembled to make. Philip Bosinney +was known to be a young man without fortune, but Forsyte girls +had become engaged to such before, and had actually married them. +It was not altogether for this reason, therefore, that the minds +of the Forsytes misgave them. They could not have explained the +origin of a misgiving obscured by the mist of family gossip. A +story was undoubtedly told that he had paid his duty call to +Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester, in a soft grey hat--a soft grey +hat, not even a new one--a dusty thing with a shapeless crown. +"So, extraordinary, my dear--so odd," Aunt Hester, passing +through the little, dark hall (she was rather short-sighted), had +tried to 'shoo' it off a chair, taking it for a strange, +disreputable cat--Tommy had such disgraceful friends! She was +disturbed when it did not move. Like an artist for ever seeking +to discover the significant trifle which embodies the whole +character of a scene, or place, or person, so those unconscious +artists--the Forsytes had fastened by intuition on this hat; it +was their significant trifle, the detail in which was embedded +the meaning of the whole matter; for each had asked himself: +"Come, now, should I have paid that visit in that hat?" and each +had answered "No!" and some, with more imagination than others, +had added: "It would never have come into my head!" + +George, on hearing the story, grinned. The hat had obviously +been worn as a practical joke! He himself was a connoisseur of +such. "Very haughty!" he said, "the wild Buccaneer." + +And this mot, the 'Buccaneer,' was bandied from mouth to mouth, +till it became the favourite mode of alluding to Bosinney. + +Her aunts reproached June afterwards about the hat. + +"We don't think you ought to let him, dear!" they had said. + +June had answered in her imperious brisk way, like the little +embodiment of will she was: "Oh! what does it matter? Phil +never knows what he's got on!" + +No one had credited an answer so outrageous. A man not to know +what he had on? No, no! What indeed was this young man, who, in +becoming engaged to June, old Jolyon's acknowledged heiress, had +done so well for himself? He was an architect, not in itself a +sufficient reason for wearing such a hat. None of the Forsytes +happened to be architects, but one of them knew two architects +who would never have worn such a hat upon a call of ceremony in +the London season. + +Dangerous--ah, dangerous! June, of course, had not seen this, +but, though not yet nineteen, she was notorious. Had she not +said to Mrs. Soames--who was always so beautifully dressed--that +feathers were vulgar? Mrs. Soames had actually given up wearing +feathers, so dreadfully downright was dear June! + +These misgivings, this disapproval, and perfectly genuine +distrust, did not prevent the Forsytes from gathering to old +Jolyon's invitation. An 'At Home' at Stanhope Gate was a great +rarity; none had been held for twelve years, not indeed, since +old Mrs. Jolyon had died. + +Never had there been so full an assembly, for, mysteriously +united in spite of all their differences, they had taken arms +against a common peril. Like cattle when a dog comes into the +field, they stood head to head and shoulder to shoulder, prepared +to run upon and trample the invader to death. They had come, +too, no doubt, to get some notion of what sort of presents they +would ultimately be expected to give; for though the question of +wedding gifts was usually graduated in this way: 'What are you +givin? Nicholas is givin' spoons!"--so very much depended on the +bridegroom. If he were sleek, well-brushed, prosperous-looking, +it was more necessary to give him nice things; he would expect +them. In the end each gave exactly what was right and proper, by +a species of family adjustment arrived at as prices are arrived +at on the Stock Exchange--the exact niceties being regulated at +Timothy's commodious, red-brick residence in Bayswater, +overlooking the Park, where dwelt Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester. + +The uneasiness of the Forsyte family has been justified by the +simple mention of the hat. How impossible and wrong would it +have been for any family, with the regard for appearances which +should ever characterize, the great upper middle-class, to feel +otherwise than uneasy! + +The author of the uneasiness stood talking to June by the further +door; his curly hair had a rumpled appearance, as though he found +what was going on around him unusual. He had an air, too, of +having a joke all to himself. George, speaking aside to his +brother, Eustace, said: + +"Looks as if he might make a bolt of it--the dashing Buccaneer!" + +This 'very singular-looking man,' as Mrs. Small afterwards called +him, was of medium height and strong build, with a pale, brown +face, a dust-coloured moustache, very prominent cheek-bones, and +hollow checks. His forehead sloped back towards the crown of his +head, and bulged out in bumps over the eyes, like foreheads seen +in the Lion-house at the Zoo. He had sherry-coloured eyes, +disconcertingly inattentive at times. Old Jolyon's coachman, +after driving June and Bosinney to the theatre, had remarked to +the butler: + +"I dunno what to make of 'im. Looks to me for all the world like +an 'alf-tame leopard." And every now and then a Forsyte would +come up, sidle round, and take a look at him. + +June stood in front, fending off this idle curiosity--a little +bit of a thing, as somebody once said, 'all hair and spirit,' +with fearless blue eyes, a firm jaw, and a bright colour, whose +face and body seemed too slender for her crown of red-gold hair. + +A tall woman, with a beautiful figure, which some member of the +family had once compared to a heathen goddess, stood looking at +these two with a shadowy smile. + +Her hands, gloved in French grey, were crossed one over the +other, her grave, charming face held to one side, and the eyes of +all men near were fastened on it. Her figure swayed, so balanced +that the very air seemed to set it moving. There was warmth, but +little colour, in her cheeks; her large, dark eyes were soft. + +But it was at her lips--asking a question, giving an answer, with +that shadowy smile--that men looked; they were sensitive lips, +sensuous and sweet, and through them seemed to come warmth and +perfume like the warmth and perfume of a flower. + +The engaged couple thus scrutinized were unconscious of this +passive goddess. It was Bosinney who first noticed her, and +asked her name. + +June took her lover up to the woman with the beautiful figure. + +"Irene is my greatest chum," she said: "Please be good friends, +you two!" + +At the little lady's command they all three smiled; and while +they were smiling, Soames Forsyte, silently appearing from behind +the woman with the beautiful figure, who was his wife, said: + +"Ah! introduce me too!" + +He was seldom, indeed, far from Irene's side at public functions, +and even when separated by, the exigencies of social intercourse, +could be seen following her about with his eyes, in which were +strange expressions of watchfulness and longing. + +At the window his father, James, was still scrutinizing the marks +on the piece of china.. + +"I wonder at Jolyon's allowing this engagement," he said to Aunt +Ann. "They tell me there's no chance of their getting married +for years. This young Bosinney" (he made the word a dactyl in +opposition to general usage of a short o) "has got nothing. When +Winifred married Dartie, I made him bring every penny into +settlement--lucky thing, too--they'd ha' had nothing by this +time!" + +Aunt Ann looked up from her velvet chair. Grey curls banded her +forehead, curls that, unchanged for decades, had extinguished in +the family all sense of time. She made no reply, for she rarely +spoke, husbanding her aged voice; but to James, uneasy of +conscience, her look was as good as an answer. + +"Well," he said, "I couldn't help Irene's having no money. +Soames was in such a hurry; he got quite thin dancing attendance +on her." + +Putting the bowl pettishly down on the piano, he let his eyes +wander to the group by the door. + +"It's my opinion," he said unexpectedly, "that it's just as well + +as it is." + +Aunt Ann did not ask him to explain this strange utterance. She +knew what he was thinking. If Irene had no money she would not +be so foolish as to do anything wrong; for they said--they said-- +she had been asking for a separate room; but, of course, Soames +had not.... + +James interrupted her reverie: + +"But where," he asked, "was Timothy? Hadn't he come with them?" + +Through Aunt Ann's compressed lips a tender smile forced its way: + +"No, he didn't think it wise, with so much of this diphtheria +about; and he so liable to take things." + +James answered: + +"Well, be takes good care of himself. I can't afford to take the +care of myself that he does." + +Nor was it easy to say which, of admiration, envy, or contempt, +was dominant in that remark. + +Timothy, indeed, was seldom seen. The baby of the family, a +publisher by profession, he had some years before, when business +was at full tide, scented out the stagnation which, indeed, had +not yet come, but which ultimately, as all agreed, was bound to +set in, and, selling his share in a firm engaged mainly in the +production of religious books, had invested the quite conspicuous +proceeds in three per cent. consols. By this act he had at once +assumed an isolated position, no other Forsyte being content with +less than four per cent. for his money; and this isolation had +slowly and surely undermined a spirit perhaps better than +commonly endowed with caution. He had become almost a myth--a +kind of incarnation of security haunting the background of the +Forsyte universe. He had never committed the imprudence of +marrying, or encumbering himself in any way with children. + +James resumed, tapping the piece of china: + +"This isn't real old Worcester. I s'pose Jolyon's told you +something about the young man. From all I can learn, he's got no +business, no income, and no connection worth speaking of; but +then, I know nothing--nobody tells me anything." + +Aunt Ann shook her head. Over her square-chinned, aquiline old +face a trembling passed; the spidery fingers of her hands pressed +against each other and interlaced, as though she were subtly +recharging her will. + +The eldest by some years of all the Forsytes, she held a peculiar +position amongst them. Opportunists and egotists one and all-- +though not, indeed, more so than their neighbours--they quailed +before her incorruptible figure, and, when opportunities were too +strong, what could they do but avoid her! + +Twisting his long, thin legs, James went on: + +"Jolyon, he will have his own way. He's got no children"--and +stopped, recollecting the continued existence of old Jolyon's +son, young Jolyon, June's father, who had made such a mess of it, +and done for himself by deserting his wife and child and running +away with that foreign governess. "Well," he resumed hastily, +"if he likes to do these things, I s'pose he can afford to. Now, +what's he going to give her? I s'pose he'll give her a thousand +a year; he's got nobody else to leave his money to." + +He stretched out his hand to meet that of a dapper, clean-shaven +man, with hardly a hair on his head, a long, broken nose, full +lips, and cold grey eyes under rectangular brows. + +"Well, Nick," he muttered, "how are you?" + +Nicholas Forsyte, with his bird-like rapidity and the look of a +preternaturally sage schoolboy (he had made a large fortune, +quite legitimately, out of the companies of which he was a +director), placed within that cold palm the tips of his still +colder fingers and hastily withdrew them. + +"I'm bad," he said, pouting--"been bad all the week; don't sleep +at night. The doctor can't tell why. He's a clever fellow, or I +shouldn't have him, but I get nothing out of him but bills." + +"Doctors!" said James, coming down sharp on his words: "I've had +all the doctors in London for one or another of us. There's no +satisfaction to be got out of them; they'll tell you anything. +There's Swithin, now. What good have they done him? There he +is; he's bigger than ever; he's enormous; they can't get his +weight down. Look at him!" + +Swithin Forsyte, tall, square, and broad, with a chest like a +pouter pigeon's in its plumage of bright waistcoats, came +strutting towards them. + +"Er--how are you?" he said in his dandified way, aspirating the +'h' strongly (this difficult letter was almost absolutely safe in +his keeping)--"how are you?" + +Each brother wore an air of aggravation as he looked at the other +two, knowing by experience that they would try to eclipse his +ailments. + +"We were just saying," said James, "that you don't get any +thinner." + +Swithin protruded his pale round eyes with the effort of hearing. + +"Thinner? I'm in good case," he said, leaning a little forward, +"not one of your thread-papers like you!" + +But, afraid of losing the expansion of his chest, he leaned back +again into a state of immobility, for he prized nothing so highly +as a distinguished appearance. + +Aunt Ann turned her old eyes from one to the other. Indulgent +and severe was her look. In turn the three brothers looked at +Ann. She was getting shaky. Wonderful woman! Eighty-six if a +day; might live another ten years, and had never been strong. +Swithin and James, the twins, were only seventy-five, Nicholas a +mere baby of seventy or so. All were strong, and the inference +was comforting. Of all forms of property their respective healths +naturally concerned them most. + +"I'm very well in myself," proceeded James, "but my nerves are +out of order. The least thing worries me to death. I shall have +to go to Bath." + +"Bath!" said Nicholas. "I've tried Harrogate. That's no good. +What I want is sea air. There's nothing like Yarmouth. Now, +when I go there I sleep...." + +"My liver's very bad," interrupted Swithin slowly. "Dreadful +pain here;" and he placed his hand on his right side. + +"Want of exercise," muttered James, his eyes on the china. He +quickly added: "I get a pain there, too." + +Swithin reddened, a resemblance to a turkey-cock coming upon his +old face. + +"Exercise!" he said. "I take plenty: I never use the lift at the +Club." + +"I didn't know," James hurried out. "I know nothing about +anybody; nobody tells me anything...." + +Swithin fixed him with a stare: + +"What do you do for a pain there?" + +James brightened. + +"I take a compound...." + +"How are you, uncle?" + +June stood before him, her resolute small face raised from her +little height to his great height, and her hand outheld. + +The brightness faded from James's visage. + +"How are you?" he said, brooding over her. "So you're going to +Wales to-morrow to visit your young man's aunts? You'll have a +lot of rain there. This isn't real old Worcester." He tapped the +bowl. "Now, that set I gave your mother when she married was the +genuine thing." + +June shook hands one by one with her three great-uncles, and +turned to Aunt Ann. A very sweet look had come into the old +lady's face, she kissed the girl's check with trembling fervour. + +"Well, my dear," she said, "and so you're going for, a whole +month!" + +The girl passed on, and Aunt Ann looked after her slim little +figure. The old lady's round, steel grey eyes, over which a film +like a bird's was beginning to come, followed her wistfully +amongst the bustling crowd, for people were beginning to +say good-bye; and her finger-tips, pressing and pressing against +each other, were busy again with the recharging of her will +against that inevitable ultimate departure of her own. + +'Yes,' she thought, 'everybody's been most kind; quite a lot of +people come to congratulate her. She ought to be very happy.' +Amongst the throng of people by the door, the well-dressed throng +drawn from the families of lawyers and doctors, from the Stock +Exchange, and all the innumerable avocations of the upper-middle +class--there were only some twenty percent of Forsytes; but to +Aunt Ann they seemed all Forsytes--and certainly there was not +much difference--she saw only her own flesh and blood. It was +her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never perhaps +known any other. All their little secrets, illnesses, +engagements, and marriages, how they were getting on, and whether +they were making money--all this was her property, her delight, +her life; beyond this only a vague, shadowy mist of--facts and +persons of no real significance. This it was that she would have +to lay down when it came to her turn to die; this which gave to + +her that importance, that secret self-importance, without which +none of us can bear to live; and to this she clung wistfully, +with a greed that grew each day! If life were slipping away from +her, this she would retain to the end. + +She thought of June's father, young Jolyon, who had run away with +that foreign girl. And what a sad blow to his father and to them +all. Such a promising young fellow! A sad blow, though there +had been no public scandal, most fortunately, Jo's wife seeking +for no divorce! A long time ago! And when June's mother died, +six years ago, Jo had married that woman, and they had two +children now, so she had heard. Still, he had forfeited his +right to be there, had cheated her of the complete fulfilment of +her family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of seeing +and kissing him of whom she had been so proud, such a promising +young fellow! The thought rankled with the bitterness of a +long-inflicted injury in her tenacious old heart. A little water +stood in her eyes. With a handkerchief of the finest lawn she +wiped them stealthily. + +"Well, Aunt Ann?" said a voice behind. + +Soames Forsyte, flat-shouldered, clean-shaven, flat-cheeked, +flat-waisted, yet with something round and secret about his whole +appearance, looked downwards and aslant at Aunt Ann, as though +trying to see through the side of his own nose. + +"And what do you think of the engagement?" he asked. + +Aunt Ann's eyes rested on him proudly; of all the nephews since +young Jolyon's departure from the family nest, he was now her +favourite, for she recognised in him a sure trustee of the family +soul that must so soon slip beyond her keeping. + +"Very nice for the young man," she said; "and he's a good-looking +young fellow; but I doubt if he's quite the right lover for dear +June." + +Soames touched the edge of a gold-lacquered lustre. + +"She'll tame him," he said, stealthily wetting his finger and +rubbing it on the knobby bulbs. "That's genuine old lacquer; you +can't get it nowadays. It'd do well in a sale at Jobson's." He +spoke with relish, as though he felt that he was cheering up his +old aunt. It was seldom he was so confidential. "I wouldn't +mind having it myself," he added; "you can always get your price +for old lacquer." + +"You're so clever with all those things," said Aunt Ann. "And +how is dear Irene?" + +Soames's smile died. + +"Pretty well," he said. "Complains she can't sleep; she sleeps a +great deal better than I do," and he looked at his wife, who was +talking to Bosinney by the door. + +Aunt Ann sighed. + +"Perhaps," she said, "it will be just as well for her not to see +so much of June. She's such a decided character, dear June!" + +Soames flushed; his flushes passed rapidly over his flat cheeks +and centered between his eyes, where they remained, the stamp of +disturbing thoughts. + +"I don't know what she sees in that little flibbertigibbet," he +burst out, but noticing that they were no longer alone, he turned +and again began examining the lustre. + +"They tell me Jolyon's bought another house," said his father's +voice close by; "he must have a lot of money--he must have more +money than he knows what to do with! Montpellier Square, they +say; close to Soames! They never told me, Irene never tells me +anything!" + +"Capital position, not two minutes from me," said the voice of +Swithin, "and from my rooms I can drive to the Club in eight." + +The position of their houses was of vital importance to the +Forsytes, nor was this remarkable, since the whole spirit of +their success was embodied therein. + +Their father, of farming stock, had come from Dorsetshire near +the beginning of the century. + +'Superior Dosset Forsyte, as he was called by his intimates, had +been a stonemason by trade, and risen to the position of a +master-builder. + +Towards the end of his life he moved to London, where, building +on until he died, he was buried at Highgate. He left over thirty +thousand pounds between his ten children. Old Jolyon alluded to +him, if at all, as 'A hard, thick sort of man; not much +refinement about him.' The second generation of Forsytes felt +indeed that, he was not greatly to their credit. The only +aristocratic trait they could find in his character was a habit +of drinking Madeira. + +Aunt Hester, an authority on family history, described him thus: +"I don't recollect that he ever did anything; at least, not in my +time. He was er--an owner of houses, my dear. His hair about +your Uncle Swithin's colour; rather a square build. Tall? No-- +not very tall" (he had been five feet, five, with a mottled +face); "a fresh-coloured man. I remember he used to drink +Madeira; but ask your Aunt Ann. What was his father? He--er-- +had to do with the land down in Dorsetshire, by the sea." + +James once went down to see for himself what sort of place this +was that they had come from. He found two old farms, with a cart +track rutted into the pink earth, leading down to a mill by the +beach; a little grey church with a buttressed outer wall, and a +smaller and greyer chapel. The stream which worked the mill came +bubbling down in a dozen rivulets, and pigs were hunting round +that estuary. A haze hovered over the prospect. Down this +hollow, with their feet deep in the mud and their faces towards +the sea, it appeared that the primeval Forsytes had been content +to walk Sunday after Sunday for hundreds of years. + +Whether or no James had cherished hopes of an inheritance, or of +something rather distinguished to be found down there, he came +back to town in a poor way, and went about with a pathetic +attempt at making the best of a bad job. + +"There's very little to be had out of that," he said; "regular +country little place, old as the hills...." + +Its age was felt to be a comfort. Old Jolyon, in whom a +desperate honesty welled up at times, would allude to his +ancestors as: "Yeomen--I suppose very small beer." Yet he would +repeat the word 'yeomen' as if it afforded him consolation. + +They had all done so well for themselves, these Forsytes, that +they were all what is called 'of a certain position.' They had +shares in all sorts of things, not as yet--with the exception of +Timothy--in consols, for they had no dread in life like that of +3 per cent. for their money. They collected pictures, too, and +were supporters of such charitable institutions as might be +beneficial to their sick domestics. From their father, the +builder, they inherited a talent for bricks and mortar. +Originally, perhaps, members of some primitive sect, they were +now in the natural course of things members of the Church of +England, and caused their wives and children to attend with some +regularity the more fashionable churches of the Metropolis. To +have doubted their Christianity would have caused them both pain +and surprise. Some of them paid for pews, thus expressing in the +most practical form their sympathy with the teachings of Christ. + +Their residences, placed at stated intervals round the park, +watched like sentinels, lest the fair heart of this London, where +their desires were fixed, should slip from their clutches, and +leave them lower in their own estimations. + +There was old Jolyon in Stanhope Place; the Jameses in Park Lane; +Swithin in the lonely glory of orange and blue chambers in Hyde +Park Mansions--he had never married, not he--the Soamses in their +nest off Knightsbridge; the Rogers in Prince's Gardens (Roger was +that remarkable Forsyte who had conceived and carried out the +notion of bringing up his four sons to a new profession. + +"Collect house property, nothing like it," he would say; "I never +did anything else"). + +The Haymans again--Mrs. Hayman was the one married Forsyte +sister--in a house high up on Campden Hill, shaped like a +giraffe, and so tall that it gave the observer a crick in the +neck; the Nicholases in Ladbroke Grove, a spacious abode and a +great bargain; and last, but not least, Timothy's on the +Bayswater Road, where Ann, and Juley, and Hester, lived under his +protection. + +But all this time James was musing, and now he inquired of his +host and brother what he had given for that house in Montpellier +Square. He himself had had his eye on a house there for the last +two years, but they wanted such a price. + +Old Jolyon recounted the details of his purchase. + +"Twenty-two years to run?" repeated James; "The very house I was +after--you've given too much for it!" + +Old Jolyon frowned. + +"It's not that I want it," said James hastily; it wouldn't suit +my purpose at that price. Soames knows the house, well--he'll +tell you it's too dear--his opinion's worth having." + +"I don't," said old Jolyon, "care a fig for his opinion." + +"Well," murmured James, "you will have your own way--it's a good +opinion. Good-bye! We're going to drive down to Hurlingham. +They tell me June's going to Wales. You'll be lonely tomorrow. +What'll you do with yourself? You'd better come and dine with +us!" + +Old Jolyon refused. He went down to the front door and saw them +into their barouche, and twinkled at them, having already +forgotten his spleen--Mrs. James facing the horses, tall and +majestic with auburn hair; on her left, Irene--the two husbands, +father and son, sitting forward, as though they expected +something, opposite their wives. Bobbing and bounding upon the + +spring cushions, silent, swaying to each motion of their chariot, +old Jolyon watched them drive away under the sunlight. + +During the drive the silence was broken by Mrs. James. + +"Did you ever see such a collection of rumty-too people?" + +Soames, glancing at her beneath his eyelids, nodded, and he saw +Irene steal at him one of her unfathomable looks. It is likely +enough that each branch of the Forsyte family made that remark as +they drove away from old Jolyon's 'At Home!' + +Amongst the last of the departing guests the fourth and fifth +brothers, Nicholas and Roger, walked away together, directing +their steps alongside Hyde Park towards the Praed Street Station +of the Underground. Like all other Forsytes of a certain age +they kept carriages of their own, and never took cabs if by any +means they could avoid it. + +The day was bright, the trees of the Park in the full beauty of +mid-June foliage; the brothers did not seem to notice phenomena, +which contributed, nevertheless, to the jauntiness of promenade +and conversation. + +"Yes," said Roger, "she's a good-lookin' woman, that wife of +Soames's. I'm told they don't get on." + +This brother had a high forehead, and the freshest colour of any +of the Forsytes; his light grey eyes measured the street frontage +of the houses by the way, and now and then he would level his, +umbrella and take a 'lunar,' as he expressed it, of the varying +heights. + +"She'd no money," replied Nicholas. + +He himself had married a good deal of money, of which, it being +then the golden age before the Married Women's Property Act, he +had mercifully been enabled to make a successful use. + +"What was her father?" + +"Heron was his name, a Professor, so they tell me." + +Roger shook his head. + +"There's no money in that," he said. + +"They say her mother's father was cement." + +Roger's face brightened. + +"But he went bankrupt," went on Nicholas. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Roger, "Soames will have trouble with her; you +mark my words, he'll have trouble--she's got a foreign look." + +Nicholas licked his lips. + +"She's a pretty woman," and he waved aside a crossing-sweeper. + +"How did he get hold of her?" asked Roger presently. "She must +cost him a pretty penny in dress!" + +"Ann tells me," replied Nicholas," he was half-cracked about her. +She refused him five times. James, he's nervous about it, I can +see." + +"Ah!" said Roger again; "I'm sorry for James; he had trouble with +Dartie." His pleasant colour was heightened by exercise, he swung +his umbrella to the level of his eye more frequently than ever. +Nicholas's face also wore a pleasant look. + +"Too pale for me," he said, "but her figures capital!" + +Roger made no reply. + +"I call her distinguished-looking," he said at last--it was the +highest praise in the Forsyte vocabulary. "That young Bosinney +will never do any good for himself. They say at Burkitt's he's +one of these artistic chaps--got an idea of improving English +architecture; there's no money in that! I should like to hear +what Timothy would say to it." + +They entered the station. + +"What class are you going? I go second." + +"No second for me," said Nicholas;--"you never know what you may +catch." + +He took a first-class ticket to Notting Hill Gate; Roger a second +to South Kensington. The train coming in a minute later, the two +brothers parted and entered their respective compartments. Each +felt aggrieved that the other had not modified his habits to +secure his society a little longer; but as Roger voiced it in his +thoughts: +'Always a stubborn beggar, Nick!' + +And as Nicholas expressed it to himself: + +'Cantankerous chap Roger--always was!' + +There was little sentimentality about the Forsytes. In that +great London, which they had conquered and become merged in, what +time had they to be sentimental? + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OLD JOLYON GOES TO THE OPERA + + +At five o'clock the following day old Jolyon sat alone, a cigar +between his lips, and on a table by his side a cup of tea. He +was tired, and before he had finished his cigar he fell asleep. +A fly settled on his hair, his breathing sounded heavy in the +drowsy silence, his upper lip under the white moustache puffed in +and out. From between the fingers of his veined and wrinkled +hand the 'cigar, dropping on the empty hearth, burned itself out. + +The gloomy little, study, with windows of stained glass to +exclude the view, was full of dark green velvet and +heavily-carved mahogany--a suite of which old Jolyon was wont to +say: 'Shouldn't wonder if it made a big price some day!' + +It was pleasant to think that in the after life he could get more +for things than he had given. + +In the rich brown atmosphere peculiar to back rooms in the +mansion of a Forsyte, the Rembrandtesque effect of his great +head, with its white hair, against the cushion of his high-backed +seat, was spoiled by the moustache, which imparted a somewhat +military look to his face. An old clock that had been with him +since before his marriage forty years ago kept with its ticking a +jealous record of the seconds slipping away forever from its old +master. + +He had never cared for this room, hardly going into it from one +year's end to another, except to take cigars from the Japanese +cabinet in the corner, and the room now had its revenge. + +His temples, curving like thatches over the hollows beneath, his +cheek-bones and chin, all were sharpened in his sleep, and there +had come upon his face the confession that he was an old man. + +He woke. June had gone! James had said he would be lonely. +James had always been a poor thing. He recollected with +satisfaction that he had bought that house over James's head. + +Serve him right for sticking at the price; the only thing the +fellow thought of was money. Had he given too much, though? It +wanted a lot of doing to--He dared say he would want all his +money before he had done with this affair of June's. He ought +never to have allowed the engagement. She had met this Bosinney +At the house of Baynes, Baynes and Bildeboy, the architects. He +believed that Baynes, whom he knew--a bit of an old woman--was +the young man's uncle by marriage. After that she'd been always +running after him; and when she took a thing into her head there +was no stopping her. She was continually taking up with 'lame +ducks' of one sort or another. This fellow had no money, but she +must needs become engaged to him--a harumscarum, unpractical +chap, who would get himself into no end of difficulties. + +She had come to him one day in her slap-dash way and told him; +and, as if it were any consolation, she had added: + +"He's so splendid; he's often lived on cocoa for a week!" + +"And he wants you to live on cocoa too?" + +"Oh no; he is getting into the swim now." + +Old Jolyon had taken his cigar from under his white moustaches, +stained by coffee at the edge, and looked at her, that little +slip of a thing who had got such a grip of his heart. He knew +more about 'swims' than his granddaughter. But she, having +clasped her hands on his knees, rubbed her chin against him, +making a sound like a purring cat. And, knocking the ash off his +cigar, he had exploded in nervous desperation: + +"You're all alike: you won't be satisfied till you've got what +you want. If you must come to grief, you must; I wash my hands +of it." + +So, he had washed his hands of it, making the condition that they +should not marry until Bosinney had at least four hundred a year. + +"I shan't be able to give you very much," he had said, a formula +to which June was not unaccustomed." Perhaps this What's-his- +name will provide the cocoa." + +He had hardly seen anything of her since it began. A bad +business! He had no notion of giving her a lot of money to +enable a fellow he knew nothing about to live on in idleness. +He had seen that sort of thing before; no good ever came of it. +Worst of all, he had no hope of shaking her resolution; she was +as obstinate as a mule, always had been from a child. He didn't +see where it was to end. They must cut their coat according to +their cloth. He would not give way till he saw young Bosinney + +with an income of his own. That June would have trouble with the +fellow was as plain as a pikestaff; he had no more idea of money +than a cow. As to this rushing down to Wales to visit the young +man's aunts, he fully expected they were old cats. + +And, motionless, old Jolyon stared at the wall; but for his open +eyes, he might have been asleep.... The idea of supposing that +young cub Soames could give him advice! He had always been a +cub, with his nose in the air! He would be setting up as a man +of property next, with a place in the country! A man of +property! H'mph! Like his father, he was always nosing out +bargains, a cold-blooded young beggar! + +He rose, and, going to the cabinet, began methodically stocking +his, cigar-case from a bundle fresh in. They were not bad at the +price, but you couldn't get a good cigar, nowadays, nothing to +hold a candle to those old Superfinos of Hanson and Bridger's. +That was a cigar! + +The thought, like some stealing perfume, carried him back to +those wonderful nights at Richmond when after dinner he sat +smoking on the terrace of the Crown and Sceptre with Nicholas +Treffry and Traquair and Jack Herring and Anthony Thornworthy. +How good his cigars were then! Poor old Nick!--dead, and Jack +Herringdead, and Traquair--dead of that wife of his, and +Thornworthy--awfully shaky (no wonder, with his appetite). + +Of all the company of those days he himself alone seemed left, +except Swithin, of course, and he so outrageously big there was +no doing anything with him. + +Difficult to believe it was so long ago; he felt young still! Of +all his thoughts, as he stood there counting his cigars, this was +the most poignant, the most bitter. With his white head and his +loneliness he had remained young and green at heart. And those +Sunday afternoons on Hampstead Heath, when young Jolyon and he +went for a stretch along the Spaniard's Road to Highgate, to +Child's Hill, and back over the Heath again to dine at Jack +Straw's Castle--how delicious his cigars were then! And such +weather! There was no weather now. + +When June was a toddler of five, and every other Sunday he took +her to the Zoo, away from the society of those two good women, +her mother and her grandmother, and at the top of the bear den +baited his umbrella with buns for her favourite bears, how sweet +his cigars were then! + +Cigars! He had not even succeeded in out-living his palate--the +famous palate that in the fifties men swore by, and speaking of +him, said: "Forsyte=s the best palate in London!" The palate that +in a sense had made his fortune--the fortune of the celebrated +tea men, Forsyte and Treffry, whose tea, like no other man's tea, +had a romantic aroma, the charm of a quite singular genuineness. +About the house of Forsyte and Treffry in the City had clung an +air of enterprise and mystery, of special dealings in special +ships, at special ports, with special Orientals. + +He had worked at that business! Men did work in those days! +these young pups hardly knew the meaning of the word. He had +gone into every detail, known everything that went on, sometimes +sat up all night over it. And he had always chosen his agents +himself, prided himself on it. His eye for men, he used to say, +had been the secret of his success, and the exercise of this +masterful power of selection had been the only part of it all +that he had really liked. Not a career for a man of his ability. +Even now, when the business had been turned into a Limited +Liability Company, and was declining (he had got out of his +shares long ago), he felt a sharp chagrin in thinking of that +time. How much better he might have done! He would have +succeeded splendidly at the Bar! He had even thought of standing +for Parliament. How often had not Nicholas Treffry said to him: + +"You could do anything, Jo, if you weren't so d-damned careful of +yourself!" Dear old Nick! Such a good fellow, but a racketty +chap! The notorious Treffry! He had never taken any care of +himself. So he was dead. Old Jolyon counted his cigars with a +steady hand, and it came into his mind to wonder if perhaps he +had been too careful of himself. + +He put the cigar-case in the breast of his coat, buttoned it in, +and walked up the long flights to his bedroom, leaning on one +foot and the other, and helping himself by the bannister. The +house was too big. After June was married, if she ever did marry +this fellow, as he supposed she would, he would let it and go +into rooms. What was the use of keeping half a dozen servants +eating their heads off? + +The butler came to the ring of his bell--a large man with a +beard, a soft tread, and a peculiar capacity for silence. Old +Jolyon told him to put his dress clothes out; he was going to +dine at the Club. + +How long had the carriage been back from taking Miss June to the +station? Since two? Then let him come round at half-past six! + +The Club which old Jolyon entered on the stroke of seven was one +of those political institutions of the upper middle class which +have seen better days. In spite of being talked about, perhaps +in consequence of being talked about, it betrayed a disappointing +vitality. People had grown tired of saying that the 'Disunion' +was on its last legs. Old Jolyon would say it, too, yet +disregarded the fact in a manner truly irritating to +well-constituted Clubmen. + +"Why do you keep your name on?" Swithin often asked him with +profound vexation. "Why don't you join the 'Polyglot? You can't +get a wine like our Heidsieck under twenty shillin' a bottle +anywhere in London;" and, dropping his voice, he added: "There's +only five hundred dozen left. I drink it every night of my +life." + +I'll think of it," old Jolyon would answer; but when he did think +of it there was always the question of fifty guineas entrance +fee, and it would take him four or five years to get in. He +continued to think of it. + +He was too old to be a Liberal, had long ceased to believe in the +political doctrines of his Club, had even been known to allude to +them as 'wretched stuff,' and it afforded him pleasure to +continue a member in the teeth of principles so opposed to his +own. He had always had a contempt for the place, having joined +it many years ago when they refused to have him at the 'Hotch +Potch' owing to his being 'in trade.' As if he were not as good +as any of them! He naturally despised the Club that did take +him. The members were a poor lot, many of them in the City-- +stockbrokers, solicitors, auctioneers--what not! Like most men +of strong character but not too much originality, old Jolyon set +small store by the class to which he belonged. Faithfully he +followed their customs, social and otherwise, and secretly he +thought them 'a common lot.' + +Years and philosophy, of which he had his share, had dimmed the +recollection of his defeat at the 'Hotch Potch'; and now in his +thoughts it was enshrined as the Queen of Clubs. He would have +been a member all these years himself, but, owing to the slipshod +way his proposer, Jack Herring, had gone to work, they had not +known what they were doing in keeping him out. Why! they had +taken his son Jo at once, and he believed the boy was still a +member; he had received a letter dated from there eight years +ago. + +He had not been near the 'Disunion' for months, and the house had +undergone the piebald decoration which people bestow on old +houses and old ships when anxious to sell them. + +'Beastly colour, the smoking-room!' he thought. 'The dining-room +is good!' + +Its gloomy chocolate, picked out with light green, took his +fancy. + +He ordered dinner, and sat down in the very corner, at the very +table perhaps I (things did not progress much at the 'Disunion,' +a Club of almost Radical principles) at which he and young Jolyon +used to sit twenty-five years ago, when he was taking the latter +to Drury Lane, during his holidays. + +The boy had--loved the theatre, and old Jolyon recalled how he +used to sit opposite, concealing his excitement under a careful +but transparent nonchalance. + +He ordered himself, too, the very dinner the boy had always +chosen-soup, whitebait, cutlets, and a tart. Ah! if he were +only opposite now! + +The two had not met for fourteen years. And not for the first +time during those fourteen years old Jolyon wondered whether he +had been a little to blame in the matter of his son. An +unfortunate love-affair with that precious flirt Danae Thorn- +worthy (now Danae Pellew), Anthony Thornworthy's daughter, had +thrown him on the rebound into the arms of June's mother. He +ought perhaps to have put a spoke in the wheel of their marriage; +they were too young; but after that experience of Jo's +susceptibility he had been only too anxious to see him married. +And in four years the crash had come! To have approved his son's +conduct in that crash was, of course, impossible; reason and +training--that combination of potent factors which stood for his +principles--told him of this impossibility, and his heart cried +out. The grim remorselessness of that business had no pity for +hearts. There was June, the atom with flaming hair, who had +climbed all over him, twined and twisted herself about him--about +his heart that was made to be the plaything and beloved resort of +tiny, helpless things. With characteristic insight he saw he +must part with one or with the other; no half-measures could +serve in such a situation. In that lay its tragedy. And the +tiny, helpless thing prevailed. He would not run with the hare +and hunt with the hounds, and so to his son he said good-bye. + +That good-bye had lasted until now. + +He had proposed to continue a reduced allowance to young Jolyon, +but this had been refused, and perhaps that refusal had hurt him +more than anything, for with it had gone the last outlet of his +penned-in affection; and there had come such tangible and solid +proof of rupture as only a transaction in property, a bestowal or +refusal of such, could supply. + +His dinner tasted flat. His pint of champagne was dry and bitter +stuff, not like the Veuve Clicquots of old days. + +Over his cup of coffee, he bethought him that he would go to the +opera. In the Times, therefore--he had a distrust of other +papers--he read the announcement for the evening. It was +'Fidelio." + +Mercifully not one of those new-fangled German pantomimes by that +fellow Wagner. + +Putting on his ancient opera hat, which, with its brim flattened +by use, and huge capacity, looked like an emblem of greater days, +and, pulling out an old pair of very thin lavender kid gloves +smelling strongly of Russia leather, from habitual proximity to +the cigar-case in the pocket of his overcoat, he stepped into a +hansom. + +The cab rattled gaily along the streets, and old Jolyon was +struck by their unwonted animation. + +'The hotels must be doing a tremendous business,' he thought. A +few years ago there had been none of these big hotels. He made +a satisfactory reflection on some property he had in the +neighbourhood. It must be going up in value by leaps and bounds! +What traffic! + +But from that he began indulging in one of those strange +impersonal speculations, so uncharacteristic of a Forsyte, +wherein lay, in part, the secret of his supremacy amongst them. +What atoms men were, and what a lot of them! And what would +become of them all? + +He stumbled as he got out of the cab, gave the man his exact +fare, walked up to the ticket office to take his stall, and stood +there with his purse in his hand--he always carried his money in +a purse, never having approved of that habit of carrying it +loosely in the pockets, as so many young men did nowadays. The +official leaned out, like an old dog from a kennel. + +"Why," he said in a surprised voice, "it's Mr. Jolyon Forsyte! +So it is! Haven't seen you, sir, for years. Dear me! Times +aren't what they were. Why! you and your brother, and that +auctioneer--Mr. Traquair, and Mr. Nicholas Treffry--you used to +have six or seven stalls here regular every season. And how are +you, sir? We don't get younger!" + +The colour in old Jolyon's eyes deepened; he paid his guinea. +They had not forgotten him. He marched in, to the sounds of the +overture, like an old war-horse to battle. + +Folding his opera hat, he sat down, drew out his lavender gloves +in the old way, and took up his glasses for a long look round the +house. Dropping them at last on his folded hat, he fixed his +eyes on the curtain. More poignantly than ever he felt that it +was all over and done with him. Where were all the women, the +pretty women, the house used to be so full of? Where was that +old feeling in the heart as he waited for one of those great +singers.? Where that sensation of the intoxication of life and +of his own power to enjoy it all? + +The greatest opera-goer of his day! There was no opera now! +That fellow Wagner had ruined everything; no melody left, nor any +voices to sing it. Ah! the wonderful singers! Gone! He sat +watching the old scenes acted, a numb feeling at his heart. + +>From the curl of silver over his ear to the pose of his foot in +its elastic-sided patent boot, there was nothing clumsy or weak +about old Jolyon. He was as upright--very nearly--as in those +old times when he came every night; his sight was as good--almost +as good. But what a feeling of weariness and disillusion! + +He had been in the habit all his life of enjoying things, even +imperfect things--and there had been many imperfect things--he +had enjoyed them all with moderation, so as to keep himself +young. But now he was deserted by his power of enjoyment, by his +philosophy) and left with this dreadful feeling that it was all +done with. Not even the Prisoners' Chorus, nor Florian's Song, +had the power to dispel the gloom of his loneliness. + +If Jo, were only with him! The boy must be forty by now. He had +wasted fourteen years out of the life of his only son. And Jo +was no longer a social pariah. He was married. Old Jolyon had +been unable to refrain from marking his appreciation of the +action by enclosing his son a cheque for L500. The cheque had +been returned in a letter from the 'Hotch Potch,' couched in +these words. + + +'MY DEAREST FATHER, + +'Your generous gift was welcome as a sign that you might think +worse of me. I return it, but should you think fit to invest it +for the benefit of the little chap (we call him Jolly), who bears +our Christian and, by courtesy, our surname, I shall be very +glad. + +'I hope with all my heart that your health is as good as ever. + +'Your loving son, + + 'Jo.' + + +The letter was like the boy. He had always been an amiable chap. +Old Jolyon had sent this reply: + + +'MY DEAR JO, + +'The sum (L500) stands in my books for the benefit of your boy, +under the name of Jolyon Forsyte, and will be duly-credited with +interest at 5 per cent. I hope that you are doing well. My +health remains good at present. + +'With love, I am, +'Your affectionate Father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +And every, year on the 1st of January he had added a hundred and +the interest. The sum was mounting up--next New Year's Day it +would be fifteen hundred and odd pounds! And it is difficult to +say how much satisfaction he had got out of that yearly +transaction. But the correspondence had ended. + +In spite of his love for his son, in spite of an instinct, partly +constitutional, partly the result, as in thousands of his class, +of the continual handling and watching of affairs, prompting him +to judge conduct by results rather than by principle, there was +at the bottom of his heart a sort of uneasiness. His son ought, +under the circumstances, to have gone to the dogs; that law was +laid down in all the novels, sermons, and plays he had ever read, +heard, or witnessed. + +After receiving the cheque back there seemed to him to be +something wrong somewhere. Why had his son, not gone to--the +dogs? But, then, who could tell? + +He had heard,. of course--in fact, he had made it his business +to find out--that Jo lived in St. John's Wood, that he had a +little house in Wistaria Avenue with a garden, and took his wife +about with, him into society--a queer sort of society, no doubt-- +and that they had two children--the little chap they called Jolly +(considering the circumstances the name struck him as cynical, +and old Jolyon both feared and disliked cynicism), and a girl +called Holly, born since the marriage. Who could tell what his +son's circumstances really were? He had capitalized the income +he had inherited from his mother's father and joined Lloyd's as +an underwriter; he painted pictures, too--water-colours. Old +Jolyon knew this, for he had surreptitiously bought them from +time to time, after chancing to see his son's name signed at the +bottom of a representation of the river Thames in a dealer's +window. He thought them bad, and did not hang them because of +the signature; he kept them locked up in a drawer. + +In the great opera-house a terrible yearning came on him to see +his son. He remembered the days when he had been wont to slide +him, in a brown holland suit, to and fro under the arch of his +legs; the times when he ran beside the boy's pony, teaching him +to ride; the day he first took him to school. He had been a +loving, lovable little chap! After he went to Eton he had +acquired, perhaps, a little too much of that desirable manner +which old Jolyon knew was only to be obtained at such places and +at great expense; but he had always been companionable. Always a +companion, even after Cambridge--a little far off, perhaps, owing +to the advantages he had received. Old Jolyon's feeling towards +our public schools and 'Varsities never wavered, and he retained +touchingly his attitude of admiration and mistrust towards a +system appropriate to the highest in the land, of which he had +not himself been privileged to partake.... Now that June had +gone and left, or as good as left him, it would have been a +comfort to see his son again. Guilty of this treason to his +family, his principles, his class, old Jolyon fixed his eyes on +the singer. A poor thing--a wretched poor thing! And the +Florian a perfect stick! + +It was over. They were easily pleased nowadays! + +In the crowded street he snapped up a cab under the very nose of +a stout and much younger gentleman, who had already assumed it to +be his own. His route lay through Pall Mall, and at the corner, +instead of going through the Green Park, the cabman turned to +drive up St. James's Street. Old Jolyon put his hand through +the trap (he could not bear being taken out of his way); in +turning, however, he found himself opposite the 'Hotch Potch, ' +and the yearning that had been secretly with him the whole +evening prevailed. He called to the driver to stop. He would go +in and ask if Jo still belonged there. + +He went in. The hall looked exactly as it did when he used to +dine there with Jack Herring, and they had the best cook in +London; and he looked round with the shrewd, straight glance that +had caused him all his life to be better served than most men. + +"Mr. Jolyon Forsyte still a member here?" + +"Yes, sir; in the Club now, sir. What name?" + +Old Jolyon was taken aback. + +"His father," he said. + +And having spoken, he took his stand, back to the fireplace. + +Young Jolyon, on the point of leaving the Club, had put on his +hat, and was in the act of crossing the hall, as the porter met +him. He was no longer young, with hair going grey, and face--a +narrower replica of his father's, with the same large drooping +moustache--decidedly worn. He turned pale. This meeting was +terrible after all those years, for nothing in the world was so +terrible as a scene. They met and crossed hands without a word. +Then, with a quaver in his voice, the father said: + +"How are you, my boy?" + +The son answered: + +"How are you, Dad?" + +Old Jolyon's hand trembled in its thin lavender glove. + +If you're going my way," he said, "I can give you a lift." + +And as though in the habit of taking each other home every night +they went out and stepped into the cab. + +To old Jolyon it seemed that his son had grown. 'More of a man +altogether,' was his comment. Over the natural amiability of +that son's face had come a rather sardonic mask, as though he had +found in the circumstances of his life the necessity for armour. +The features were certainly those of a Forsyte, but the expression +was more the introspective look of a student or philosopher. +He had no doubt been obliged to look into himself a good deal in +the course of those fifteen years. + +To young Jolyon the first sight of his father was undoubtedly a +shock--he looked so worn and old. But in the cab he seemed +hardly to have changed, still having the calm look so well +remembered, still being upright and, keen-eyed. + +"You look well, Dad." + +"Middling," old Jolyon answered. + +He was the prey of an anxiety that he found he must put into +words. Having got his son back like this, he felt he must know +what was his financial position. + +"Jo," he said, "I should like to hear what sort of water you're +in. I suppose you're in debt?" + +He put it this way that his son might find it easier to confess. + +Young Jolyon answered in his ironical voice: + +"No! I'm not in debt!" + +Old Jolyon saw that he was angry, and touched his hand. He had +run a risk. It was worth it, however, and Jo had never been +sulky with him. They drove on, without speaking again, to +Stanhope Gate. Old Jolyon invited him in, but young Jolyon shook +his head. + +"June's not here," said his father hastily: "went of to-day on a +visit. I suppose you know that she's engaged to be married?" + +"Already?" murmured young Jolyon'. + +Old Jolyon stepped out, and, in paying the cab fare, for the +first time in his life gave the driver a sovereign in mistake for +a shilling. + +Placing the coin in his mouth, the cabman whipped his horse +secretly on the underneath and hurried away. + +Old Jolyon turned the key softly in the lock, pushed open the +door, and beckoned. His son saw him gravely hanging up his coat, +with an expression on his face like that of a boy who intends to +steal cherries. + +The door of the dining-room was open, the gas turned low; a +spirit-urn hissed on a tea-tray, and close to it a cynical +looking cat had fallen asleep on the dining-table. Old Jolyon +'shoo'd' her off at once. The incident was a relief to his +feelings; he rattled his opera hat behind the animal. + +"She's got fleas," he said, following her out of the room. +Through the door in the hall leading to the basement he called +"Hssst!" several times, as though assisting the cat's departure, +till by some strange coincidence the butler appeared below. + +"You can go to bed, Parfitt," said old Jolyon. "I will lock up +and put out." + +When he again entered the dining-room the cat unfortunately +preceded him, with her tail in the air, proclaiming that she had +seen through this manouevre for suppressing the butler from the +first.... + +A fatality had dogged old Jolyon's domestic stratagems all his +life. + +Young Jolyon could not help smiling. He was very well versed in +irony, and everything that evening seemed to him ironical. The +episode of the cat; the announcement of his own daughter's +engagement. So he had no more part or parcel in her than he had +in the Puss! And the poetical justice of this appealed to him. + +"What is June like now?" he asked. + +"She's a little thing," returned old Jolyon; they say she's like +me, but that's their folly. She's more like your mother--the +same eyes and hair." + +"Ah! and she is pretty?" + +Old Jolyon was too much of a Forsyte to praise anything freely; +especially anything for which he had a genuine admiration. + +"Not bad looking--a regular Forsyte chin. It'll be lonely here +when she's gone, Jo." + +The look on his face again gave young Jolyon the shock he had +felt on first seeing his father. + +"What will you do with yourself, Dad? I suppose she's wrapped up +in him?" + +"Do with myself?" repeated old Jolyon with an angry break in his +voice. "It'll be miserable work living here alone. I don't know +how it's to end. I wish to goodness...." He checked himself, and +added: "The question is, what had I better do with this house?" + +Young Jolyon looked round the room. It was peculiarly vast and +dreary, decorated with the enormous pictures of still life that +he remembered as a boy--sleeping dogs with their noses resting on +bunches of carrots, together with onions and grapes lying side by +side in mild surprise. The house was a white elephant, but he +could not conceive of his father living in a smaller place; and +all the more did it all seem ironical. + +In his great chair with the book-rest sat old Jolyon, the +figurehead of his family and class and creed, with his white head +and dome-like forehead, the representative of moderation, and +order, and love of property. As lonely an old man as there was +in London. + +There he sat in the gloomy comfort of the room, a puppet in the +power of great forces that cared nothing for family or class or +creed, but moved, machine-like, with dread processes to +inscrutable ends. This was how it struck young Jolyon, who had +the impersonal eye. + +The poor old Dad! So this was the end, the purpose to which he +had lived with such magnificent moderation! To be lonely, and +grow older and older, yearning for a soul to speak to! + +In his turn old Jolyon looked back at his son. He wanted to talk +about many things that he had been unable to talk about all these +years. It had been impossible to seriously confide in June his +conviction that property in the Soho quarter would go up in +value; his uneasiness about that tremendous silence of Pippin, +the superintendent of the New Colliery Company, of which he had +so long been chairman; his disgust at the steady fall in American +Golgothas, or even to discuss how, by some sort of settlement, he +could best avoid the payment of those death duties which would +follow his decease. Under the influence, however, of a cup of +tea, which he seemed to stir indefinitely, he began to speak at +last. A new vista of life was thus opened up, a promised land of +talk, where he could find a harbour against the waves of +anticipation and regret; where he could soothe his soul with the +opium of devising how to round off his property and make eternal +the only part of him that was to remain alive. + +Young Jolyon was a good listener; it was his great quality. He +kept his eyes fixed on his father's face, putting a question now +and then. + +The clock struck one before old Jolyon had finished, and at the +sound of its striking his principles came back. He took out his +watch with a look of surprise: + +"I must go to bed, Jo," he said. + +Young Jolyon rose and held out his hand to help his father up. +The old face looked worn and hollow again; the eyes were steadily +averted. + +"Good-bye, my boy; take care of yourself." + +A moment passed, and young Jolyon, turning on his, heel, marched +out at the door. He could hardly see; his smile quavered. Never +in all the fifteen years since he had first found out that life +was no simple business, had he found it so singularly +complicated. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +DINNER AT SWITHIN'S + + +In Swithin's orange and light-blue dining-room, facing the Park, +the round table was laid for twelve. + +A cut-glass chandelier filled with lighted candles hung like a +giant stalactite above its centre, radiating over large +gilt-framed mirrors, slabs of marble on the tops of side-tables, +and heavy gold chairs with crewel worked seats. Everything +betokened that love of beauty so deeply implanted in each family +which has had its own way to make into Society, out of the more +vulgar heart of Nature. Swithin had indeed an impatience of +simplicity, a love of ormolu, which had always stamped him +amongst his associates as a man of great, if somewhat luxurious +taste; and out of the knowledge that no one could possibly enter +his rooms without perceiving him to be a man of wealth, he had +derived a solid and prolonged happiness such as perhaps no other +circumstance in life had afforded him. + +Since his retirement from land agency, a profession deplorable in +his estimation, especially as to its auctioneering department, he +had abandoned himself to naturally aristocratic tastes. + +The perfect luxury of his latter days had embedded him like a fly +in sugar; and his mind, where very little took place from morning +till night, was the junction of two curiously opposite emotions, +a lingering and sturdy satisfaction that he had made his own way +and his own fortune, and a sense that a man of his distinction +should never have been allowed to soil his mind with work. + +He stood at the sideboard in a white waistcoat with large gold +and onyx buttons, watching his valet screw the necks of three +champagne bottles deeper into ice-pails. Between the points of +his stand-up collar, which--though it hurt him to move--he would +on no account have had altered, the pale flesh of his under chin +remained immovable. His eyes roved from bottle to bottle. He +was debating, and he argued like this: Jolyon drinks a glass, +perhaps two, he's so careful of himself. James, he can't take +his wine nowadays. Nicholas--Fanny and he would swill water he +shouldn't wonder! Soames didn't count; these young nephews-- +Soames was thirty-one--couldn't drink! But Bosinney? + +Encountering in the name of this stranger something outside the +range of his philosophy, Swithin paused. A misgiving arose +within him! It was impossible to tell! June was only a girl, in +love too! Emily (Mrs. James) liked a good glass of champagne. +It was too dry for Juley, poor old soul, she had no palate. As +to Hatty Chessman! The thought of this old friend caused a cloud +of thought to obscure the perfect glassiness of his eyes: He +shouldn't wonder if she drank half a bottle! + +But in thinking of his remaining guest, an expression like that +of a cat who is just going to purr stole over his old face: Mrs. +Soames! She mightn't take much, but she would appreciate what +she drank; it was a pleasure to give her good wine! A pretty +woman--and sympathetic to him! + +The thought of her was like champagne itself! A pleasure to give +a good wine to a young woman who looked so well, who knew how to +dress, with charming manners, quite distinguished--a pleasure to +entertain her. Between the points of his collar he gave his head +the first small, painful oscillation of the evening. + +"Adolf!" he said. "Put in another bottle." + +He himself might drink a good deal, for, thanks to that +prescription of Blight's, he found himself extremely well, and he +had been careful to take no lunch. He had not felt so well for +weeks. Puffing out his lower lip, he gave his last instructions: + +"Adolf, the least touch of the West India when you come to the +ham." + +Passing into the anteroom, he sat down on the edge of a chair, +with his knees apart; and his tall, bulky form was wrapped at +once in an expectant, strange, primeval immobility. He was ready +to rise at a moment's notice. He had not given a dinner-party +for months. This dinner in honour of June's engagement had +seemed a bore at first (among Forsytes the custom of solemnizing +engagements by feasts was religiously observed), but the labours +of sending invitations and ordering the repast over, he felt +pleasantly stimulated. + +And thus sitting, a watch in his hand, fat, and smooth, and +golden, like a flattened globe of butter, he thought of nothing. + +A long man, with side whiskers, who had once been in Swithin's +service, but was now a greengrocer, entered and proclaimed: + +"Mrs. Chessman, Mrs. Septimus Small!" + +Two ladies advanced. The one in front, habited entirely in red, +had large, settled patches of the same colour in her cheeks, and +a hard, dashing eye. She walked at Swithin, holding out a hand +cased in a long, primrose-coloured glove: + +Well! Swithin," she said, "I haven't seen you for ages. How are +you? Why, my dear boy, how stout you're getting!" + +The fixity of Swithin's eye alone betrayed emotion. A dumb and +grumbling anger swelled his bosom. It was vulgar to be stout, to +talk of being stout; he had a chest, nothing more. Turning to +his sister, he grasped her hand, and said in a tone of command: + +"Well, Juley." + +Mrs. Septimus Small was the tallest of the four sisters; her +good, round old face had gone a little sour; an innumerable pout +clung all over it, as if it had been encased in an iron wire mask +up to that evening, which, being suddenly removed, left little +rolls of mutinous flesh all over her countenance. Even her eyes +were pouting. It was thus that she recorded her permanent +resentment at the loss of Septimus Small. + +She had quite a reputation for saying the wrong thing, and, +tenacious like all her breed, she would hold to it when she had +said it, and add to it another wrong thing, and so on. With the +decease of her husband the family tenacity, the family +matter-of-factness, had gone sterile within her. A great talker, +when allowed, she would converse without the faintest animation +for hours together, relating, with epic monotony, the innumerable +occasions on which Fortune had misused her; nor did she ever +perceive that her hearers sympathized with Fortune, for her +heart was kind. + +Having sat, poor soul, long by the bedside of Small (a man of +poor constitution), she had acquired, the habit, and there were +countless subsequent occasions when she had sat immense periods +of time to amuse sick people, children, and other helpless +persons, and she could never divest herself of the feeling that +the world was the most ungrateful place anybody could live in. +Sunday after Sunday she sat at the feet of that extremely witty +preacher, the Rev. Thomas Scoles, who exercised a great +influence over her; but she succeeded in convincing everybody +that even this was a misfortune. She had passed into a proverb +in the family, and when anybody was observed to be peculiarly +distressing, he was known as a regular 'Juley.' The habit of her +mind would have killed anybody but a Forsyte at forty; but she +was seventy-two, and had never looked better. And one felt that +there were capacities for enjoyment about her which might yet +come out. She owned three canaries, the cat Tommy, and half a +parrot--in common with her sister Hester;--and these poor +creatures (kept carefully out of Timothy's way--he was nervous +about animals), unlike human beings, recognising that she could +not help being blighted, attached themselves to her passionately. + +She was sombrely magnificent this evening in black bombazine, +with a mauve front cut in a shy triangle, and crowned with a +black velvet ribbon round the base of her thin throat; black and + +mauve for evening wear was esteemed very chaste by nearly every +Forsyte. + +Pouting at Swithin, she said: + +"Ann has been asking for you. You haven't been near us for an +age!" + +Swithin put his thumbs within the armholes of his waistcoat, and +replied: + +"Ann's getting very shaky; she ought to have a doctor!" + +"Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Forsyte!" + +Nicholas Forsyte, cocking his rectangular eyebrows, wore a smile. +He had succeeded during the day in bringing to fruition a scheme +for the employment of a tribe from Upper India in the gold-mines +of Ceylon. A pet plan, carried at last in the teeth of great +difficulties--he was justly pleased. It would double the output +of his mines, and, as he had often forcibly argued, all +experience tended to show that a man must die; and whether he +died of a miserable old age in his own country, or prematurely of +damp in the bottom of a foreign mine, was surely of little +consequence, provided that by a change in his mode of life he +benefited the British Empire. + +His ability was undoubted. Raising his broken nose towards his +listener, he would add: + +"For want of a few hundred of these fellows we haven't paid a +dividend for years, and look at the price of the shares. I can't +get ten shillings for them." + +He had been at Yarmouth, too, and had come back feeling that he +had added at least ten years to his own life. He grasped +Swithin's hand, exclaiming in a jocular voice: + +"Well, so here we are again!" + +Mrs. Nicholas, an effete woman, smiled a smile of frightened +jollity behind his back. + +"Mr. and Mrs. James Forsyte! Mr. and Mrs. Soames Forsyte!" + +Swithin drew his heels together, his deportment ever admirable. + +"Well, James, well Emily! How are you, Soames? How do you do?" + +His hand enclosed Irene's, and his eyes swelled. She was a +pretty woman--a little too pale, but her figure, her eyes, her +teeth! Too good for that chap Soames! + +The gods had given Irene dark brown eyes and golden hair, that +strange combination, provocative of men's glances, which is said +to be the mark of a weak character. And the full, soft pallor of +her neck and shoulders, above a gold-coloured frock, gave to her +personality an alluring strangeness. + +Soames stood behind, his eyes fastened on his wife's neck. The +hands of Swithin's watch, which he still held open in his hand, +had left eight behind; it was half an hour beyond his +dinner-time--he had had no lunch--and a strange primeval +impatience surged up within him. + +"It's not like Jolyon to be late!" he said to Irene, with +uncontrollable vexation. "I suppose it'll be June keeping him!" + +"People in love are always late," she answered. + +Swithin stared at her; a dusky orange dyed his cheeks. + +"They've no business to be. Some fashionable nonsense!" + +And behind this outburst the inarticulate violence of primitive +generations seemed to mutter and grumble. + +"Tell me what you think of my new star, Uncle Swithin," said +Irene softly. + +Among the lace in the bosom of her dress was shining a +five-pointed star, made of eleven diamonds. Swithin looked at +the star. He had a pretty taste in stones; no question could +have been more sympathetically devised to distract his attention. + +"Who gave you that?" he asked. + +"Soames." + +There was no change in her face, but Swithin's pale eyes bulged +as though he might suddenly have been afflicted with insight. + +"I dare say you're dull at home," he said. "Any day you like to +come and dine with me, I'll give you as good a bottle of wine as +you'll get in London." + +Miss June Forsyte--Mr. Jolyon Forsyte!... Mr. Boswainey!..." + +Swithin moved his arm, and said in a rumbling voice: + +"Dinner, now--dinner!" + +He took in Irene, on the ground that he had not entertained her +since she was a bride. June was the portion of Bosinney, who was +placed between Irene and his fiancee. On the other side of June +was James with Mrs. Nicholas, then old Jolyon with Mrs. James, +Nicholas with Hatty Chessman, Soames with Mrs. Small, completing, +the circle to Swithin again. + +Family dinners of the Forsytes observe certain traditions. There +are, for instance, no hors d'oeuvre. The reason for this is +unknown. Theory among the younger members traces it to the +disgraceful price of oysters; it is more probably due to a desire +to come to the point, to a good practical sense deciding at once +that hors d'oeuvre are but poor things. The Jameses alone, +unable to withstand a custom almost universal in Park Lane, are +now and then unfaithful. + +A silent, almost morose, inattention to each other succeeds to +the subsidence into their seats, lasting till well into the first +entree, but interspersed with remarks such as, "Tom's bad again; +I can't tell what's the matter with him!" "I suppose Ann doesn't +come down in the mornings?"--"What's the name of your doctor, +Fanny? "Stubbs? He's a quack!"--"Winifred? She's got too many +children. Four, isn't it? She's as thin as a lath!"--"What +d'you give for this sherry, Swithin? Too dry for me!" + +With the second glass of champagne, a kind of hum makes itself +heard, which, when divested of casual, accessories and resolved +into its primal element, is found to be James telling a story, +and this goes on for a long time, encroaching sometimes even upon +what must universally be recognised as the crowning point of a +Forsyte feast--'the saddle of mutton.' + +No Forsyte has given a dinner without providing a saddle of +mutton. There is something in its succulent solidity which makes +it suitable to people 'of a certain position.' It is nourishing +and tasty; the sort of thing a man remembers eating. It has a +past and a future, like a deposit paid into a bank; and it is +something that can be argued about. + +Each branch of the family tenaciously held to a particular +locality--old Jolyon swearing by Dartmoor, James by Welsh, +Swithin by Southdown, Nicholas maintaining that people might +sneer, but there was nothing like New Zealand! As for Roger, the +'original' of the brothers, he had been obliged to invent a +locality of his own, and with an ingenuity worthy of a man who +had devised a new profession for his sons, he had discovered a +shop where they sold German; on being remonstrated with, he had +proved his point by producing a butcher's bill, which showed that +he paid more than any of the others. It was on this occasion +that old Jolyon, turning to June, had said in one of his bursts +of philosophy: + +"You may depend upon it, they're a cranky lot, the Forsytes--and +you'll find it out, as you grow older!" + +Timothy alone held apart, for though he ate saddle of mutton +heartily, he was, he said, afraid of it. + +To anyone interested psychologically in Forsytes, this great +saddle-of-mutton trait is of prime importance; not only does it +illustrate their tenacity, both collectively and as individuals, +but it marks them as belonging in fibre and instincts to that +great class which believes in nourishment and flavour, and yields +to no sentimental craving for beauty. + +Younger members of the family indeed would have done without a +joint altogether, preferring guinea-fowl, or lobster salad-- +something which appealed to the imagination, and had less +nourishment--but these were females; or, if not, had been +corrupted by their wives, or by mothers, who having been forced +to eat saddle of mutton throughout their married lives, had +passed a secret hostility towards it into the fibre of their +sons. + +The great saddle-of-mutton controversy at an end, a Tewkesbury +ham commenced, together with the least touch of West Indian-- +Swithin was so long over this course that he caused a block in +the progress of the dinner. To devote himself to it with better +heart, he paused in his conversation. + +>From his seat by Mrs. Septimus Small Soames was watching. He had +a reason of his own connected with a pet building scheme, for +observing Bosinney. The architect might do for his purpose; he +looked clever, as he sat leaning back in his chair, moodily +making little ramparts with bread-crumbs. Soames noted his dress +clothes to be well cut, but too small, as though made many years +ago. + +He saw him turn to Irene and say something and her face sparkle +as he often saw it sparkle at other people--never at himself. He +tried to catch what they were saying, but Aunt Juley was +speaking. + +Hadn't that always seemed very extraordinary to Soames? Only +last Sunday dear Mr. Scole, had been so witty in his sermon, so +sarcastic, "For what," he had said, "shall it profit a mar if he +gain his own soul, but lose all his property?" That, he had +said, was the motto of the middle-class; now, what had he meant +by that? Of course, it might be what middle-class people +believed--she didn't know; what did Soames think? + +He answered abstractedly: "How should I know? Scoles is a +humbug, though, isn't he?" For Bosinney was looking round the +table, as if pointing out the peculiarities of the guests, and +Soames wondered what he was saying. By her smile Irene was +evidently agreeing with his remarks. She seemed always to agree +with other people. + +Her eyes were turned on himself; Soames dropped his glance at +once. The smile had died off her lips. + +A humbug? But what did Soames mean? If Mr. Scoles was a humbug, +a clergyman--then anybody might be--it was frightful! + +"Well, and so they are!" said Soames. + +During Aunt Juley's momentary and horrified silence he caught +some words of Irene's that sounded like: 'Abandon hope, all ye +who enter here!' + +But Swithin had finished his ham. + +"Where do you go for your mushrooms?" he was saying to Irene in a +voice like a courtier's; "you ought to go to Smileybob's he'll +give 'em you fresh. These little men, they won't take the +trouble!" + +Irene turned to answer him, and Soames saw Bosinney watching her +and smiling to himself. A curious smile the fellow had. A +half-simple arrangement, like a child who smiles when he is +pleased. As for George's nickname--'The Buccaneer'--he did not +think much of that. And, seeing Bosinney turn to June, Soames +smiled too, but sardonically--he did not like June, who was not +looking too pleased. + +This was not surprising, for she had just held the following +conversation with James: + +"I stayed on the river on my way home, Uncle James, and saw a +beautiful site for a house." + +James, a slow and thorough eater, stopped the process of +mastication. + +"Eh?" he said. "Now, where was that?" + +"Close to Pangbourne." + +James placed a piece of ham in his mouth, and June waited. + +"I suppose you wouldn't know whether the land about there was +freehold?" he asked at last. "You wouldn't know anything about +the price of land about there?" + +"Yes," said June; "I made inquiries." Her little resolute face +under its copper crown was suspiciously eager and aglow. + +James regarded her with the air of an inquisitor. + +"What? You're not thinking of buying land!" he ejaculated, +dropping his fork. + +June was greatly encouraged by his interest. It had long been +her pet plan that her uncles should benefit themselves and +Bosinney by building country-houses. + +"Of course not," she said. "I thought it would be such a +splendid place for--you or--someone to build a country-house!" + +James looked at her sideways, and placed a second piece of ham in +his mouth.... + +"Land ought to be very dear about there," be said. + +What June had taken for personal interest was only the impersonal +excitement of every Forsyte who hears of something eligible in +danger of passing into other hands. But she refused to see the +disappearance of her chance, and continued to press her point. + +"You ought to go into the country, Uncle James. I wish I had a +lot of money, I wouldn't live another day in London." + +James was stirred to the depths of his long thin figure; he had +no idea his niece held such downright views. + +"Why don't you go into the country?" repeated June; "it would do +you a lot of good." + +"Why?" began James in a fluster. "Buying land--what good d'you +suppose I can do buying land, building houses?--I couldn't get +four per cent. for my money!" + +"What does that matter? You'd get fresh air." + +"Fresh air!" exclaimed James; "what should I do with fresh air," + +"I should have thought anybody liked to have fresh air," said +June scornfully. + +James wiped his napkin all over his mouth. + +"You don't know the value of money," he said, avoiding her eye. + +"No! and I hope I never shall!" and, biting her lip with +inexpressible mortification, poor June was silent. + +Why were her own relations so rich, and Phil never knew where the +money was coming from for to-morrow's tobacco. Why couldn't they +do something for him? But they were so selfish. Why couldn't +they build country-houses? She had all that naive dogmatism +which is so pathetic, and sometimes achieves such great results. +Bosinney, to whom she turned in her, discomfiture, was talking to +Irene, and a chill fell on June's spirit. Her eyes grew steady +with anger, like old Jolyon's when his will was crossed. + +James, too, was much disturbed. He felt as though someone had +threatened his right to invest his money at five per cent. +Jolyon had spoiled her. None of his girls would have said such a +thing. James had always been exceedingly liberal to his +children, and the consciousness of this made him feel it all the +more deeply. He trifled moodily with his strawberries, then, +deluging them with cream, he ate them quickly; they, at all +events, should not escape him. + +No wonder he was upset. Engaged for fifty-four years (he had +been admitted a solicitor on the earliest day sanctioned by the +law) in arranging mortgages, preserving investments at a dead +level of high and safe interest, conducting negotiations on the +principle of securing the utmost possible out of other people +compatible with safety to his clients and himself, in +calculations as to the exact pecuniary possibilities of all the +relations of life, he had come at last to think purely in terms +of money. Money was now his light, his medium for seeing, that +without which he was really unable to see, really not cognisant +of phenomena; and to have this thing, "I hope I shall never know +the value of money!" said to his face, saddened and exasperated +him. He knew it to be nonsense, or it would have frightened him. +What was the world coming to! Suddenly recollecting the story of +young Jolyon, however,(he felt a little comforted, for what could +you expect with a father like that! This turned his thoughts +into a channel still less pleasant. What was all this talk about +Soames and Irene? + +As in all self-respecting families, an emporium had been +established where family secrets were bartered, and family stock +priced. It was known on Forsyte 'Change that Irene regretted her +marriage. Her regret was disapproved of. She ought to have +known her own mind; no dependable woman made these mistakes. + +James reflected sourly that they had a nice house (rather small) +in an excellent position, no children, and no money troubles. +Soames was reserved about his affairs, but he must be getting a +very warm man. He had a capital income from the business--for +Soames, like his father, was a member of that well-known firm of +solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte--and had always been very +careful. He had done quite unusually well with some mortgages he +had taken up, too--a little timely foreclosure--most lucky hits! + +There was no reason why Irene should not be happy, yet they said +she'd been asking for a separate room. He knew where that ended. +It wasn't as if Soames drank, + +James looked at his daughter-in-law. That unseen glance of his +was cold and dubious. Appeal and fear were in it, and a sense of +personal grievance. Why should he be worried like this? It was +very likely all nonsense; women were funny things! They +exaggerated so, you didn't know what to believe; and then, nobody +told him anything, he had to find out everything for himself. +Again he looked furtively at Irene, and across from her to +Soames. The latter, listening to Aunt Juley, was looking up, +under his brows in the direction of Bosinney. + +'He's fond of her, I know,' thought James. 'Look at the way he's +always giving her things.' + +And the extraordinary unreasonableness of her disaffection struck +him with increased force. + +It was a pity, too, she was a taking little thing, and he, James, +would be really quite fond of her if she'd only let him. She had +taken up lately with June; that was doing her no good, that was +certainly doing her no good. She was getting to have opinions of +her own. He didn't know what she wanted with anything of the +sort. She'd a good home, and everything she could wish for. He +felt that her friends ought to be chosen for her. To go on like +this was dangerous. + +June, indeed, with her habit of championing the unfortunate, had +dragged from Irene a confession, and, in return, had preached the +necessity of facing the evil, by separation, if need be. But in +the face of these exhortations, Irene had kept a brooding silence, +as though she found terrible the thought of this struggle carried +through in cold blood. He would never give her up, she had said +to June. + +"Who cares?" June cried; "let him do what he likes--you've only +to stick to it!" And she had not scrupled to say something of +this sort at Timothy's; James, when he heard of it, had felt a +natural indignation and horror. + +What if Irene were to take it into her head to--he could hardly +frame the thought--to leave Soames? But he felt this thought so +unbearable that he at once put it away; the shady visions it +conjured up, the sound of family tongues buzzing in his ears, the +horror of the conspicuous happening so close to him, to one of +his own children! Luckily, she had no money--a beggarly fifty +pound a year! And he thought of the deceased Heron, who had had +nothing to leave her, with contempt. Brooding over his glass, +his long legs twisted under the table, he quite omitted to rise +when the ladies left the room. He would have to speak to Soames- +-would have to put him on his guard; they could not go on like +this, now that such a contingency had occurred to him. And he +noticed with sour disfavour that June had left her wine-glasses +full of wine. + +'That little, thing's at the bottom of it all,' he mused; +'Irene'd never have thought of it herself.' James was a man of +imagination. + +The voice of Swithin roused him from his reverie. + +"I gave four hundred pounds for it," he was saying. "Of course +it's a regular work of art." + +"Four hundred! H'm! that's a lot of money!" chimed in Nicholas. + +The object alluded to was an elaborate group of statuary in +Italian marble, which, placed upon a lofty stand (also of +marble), diffused an atmosphere of culture throughout the room. +The subsidiary figures, of which there were six, female, nude, +and of highly ornate workmanship, were all pointing towards the +central figure, also nude, and female, who was pointing at +herself; and all this gave the observer a very pleasant sense of +her extreme value. Aunt Juley, nearly opposite, had had the +greatest difficulty in not looking, at it all the evening. + +Old Jolyon spoke; it was he who had started the discussion., + +"Four hundred fiddlesticks! Don't tell me you gave four hundred +for that?" + +Between the points of his collar Swithin's chin made the second +painful oscillatory movement of the evening." + +Four-hundred-pounds, of English money; not a farthing less. I +don't regret it. It's not common English--it's genuine modern +Italian!" + +Soames raised the comer of his lip in a smile, and looked across +at Bosinney. The architect was grinning behind the fumes of his +cigarette. Now, indeed, he looked more like a buccaneer. + +"There's a lot of work about it," remarked James hastily, who was +really moved by the size of the group. "It'd sell well at +Jobson's." + +"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it, "went on Swithin," asked +me five hundred--I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked +half-starved, poor dey-vil! + +"Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, +these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live. Now, there's +young Flageoletti, that Fanny and the girls are always hav'in' +in, to play the fiddle; if he makes a hundred a year it's as much +as ever he does!" + +James shook his head. "Ah!" he said, "I don't know how they +live!" + +Old Jolyon had risen, and, cigar in mouth, went to inspect the +group at close quarters. + +"Wouldn't have given two for it!" he pronounced at last. + +Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance at each other +anxiously; and, on the other side of Swithin, Bosinney, still +shrouded in smoke. + +'I wonder what he thinks of it?' thought Soames, who knew well +enough that this group was hopelessly vieux jeu; hopelessly of +the last generation. There was no longer any sale at Jobson's +for such works of art. + +Swithin's answer came at last. "You never knew anything about a +statue. You've got your pictures, and that's all!" + +Old Jolyon walked back to his seat, puffing his cigar. It was +not likely that he was going to be drawn into an argument with an +obstinate beggar like Swithin, pig-headed as a mule, who had +never known a statue from a---straw hat. + +"Stucco!" was all he said. + +It had long been physically impossible for Swithin to start; his +fist came down on the table. + +"Stucco! I should like to see anything you've got in your house +half as good!" + +And behind his speech seemed to sound again that rumbling +violence of primitive generations. + +It was James who saved the situation. + +"Now, what do you say, Mr. Bosinney? You're an architect; you +ought to know all about statues and things!" + +Every eye was turned upon Bosinney; all waited with a strange, +suspicious look for his answer. + +And Soames, speaking for the first time, 'asked: + +"Yes, Bosinney, what do you say?" + +Bosinney replied coolly: + +"The work is a remarkable one." + +His words were addressed to Swithin, his eyes smiled slyly at old +Jolyon; only Soames remained unsatisfied. + +"Remarkable for what?" + +"For its naivete" + +The answer was followed by an impressive silence; Swithin alone +was not sure whether a compliment was intended. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PROJECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +Soames Forsyte walked out of his green-painted front door three +days after the dinner at Swithin's, and looking back from across +the Square, confirmed his impression that the house wanted +painting. + +He had left his wife sitting on the sofa in the drawing-room, her +hands crossed in her lap, manifestly waiting for him to go out. +This was not unusual. It happened, in fact, every day. + +He could not understand what she found wrong with him. It was +not as if he drank! Did he run into debt, or gamble, or swear; +was he violent; were his friends rackety; did he stay out at +night? On the contrary. + +The profound, subdued aversion which he felt in his wife was a +mystery to him, and a source of the most terrible irritation. +That she had made a mistake, and did not love him, had tried to +love him and could not love him, was obviously no reason. + +He that could imagine so outlandish a cause for his wife's not +getting on with him was certainly no Forsyte. + +Soames was forced, therefore, to set the blame entirely down to +his wife. He had never met a woman so capable of inspiring +affection. They could not go anywhere without his seeing how all +the men were attracted by her; their looks, manners, voices, +betrayed it; her behaviour under this attention had been beyond +reproach. That she was one of those women--not too common in the +Anglo-Saxon race--born to be loved and to love, who when not +loving are not living, had certainly never even occurred to him. +Her power of attraction, he regarded as part of her value as his +property; but it made him, indeed, suspect that she could give as +well as receive; and she gave him nothing! 'Then why did she +marry me?' was his continual thought. He had, forgotten his +courtship; that year and a half when he had besieged and lain in +wait for her, devising schemes for her entertainment, giving her +presents, proposing to her periodically, and keeping her other +admirers away with his perpetual presence. He had forgotten the +day when, adroitly taking advantage of an acute phase of her +dislike to her home surroundings, he crowned his labours with +success. If he remembered anything, it was the dainty +capriciousness with which the gold-haired, dark-eyed girl had +treated him. He certainly did not remember the look on her face- +-strange, passive, appealing--when suddenly one day she had +yielded, and said that she would marry him. + +It had been one of those real devoted wooings which books and +people praise, when the lover is at length rewarded for hammering +the iron till it is malleable, and all must be happy ever after +as the wedding bells. + +Soames walked eastwards, mousing doggedly along on the shady +side. + +The house wanted doing, up, unless he decided to move into the +country, and build. + +For the hundredth time that month he turned over this problem. +There was no use in rushing into things! He was very comfortably +off, with an increasing income getting on for three thousand a +year; but his invested capital was not perhaps so large as his +father believed--James had a tendency to expect that his children +should be better off than they were. 'I can manage eight +thousand easily enough,' he thought, 'without calling in either + +Robertson's or Nicholl's.' + +He had stopped to look in at a picture shop, for Soames was an +'amateur' of pictures, and had a little-room in No. 62, +Montpellier Square, full of canvases, stacked against the wall, +which he had no room to hang. He brought them home with him on +his way back from the City, generally after dark, and would enter +this room on Sunday afternoons, to spend hours turning the +pictures to the light, examining the marks on their backs, and +occasionally making notes. + +They were nearly all landscapes with figures in the foreground, a +sign of some mysterious revolt against London, its tall houses, +its interminable streets, where his life and the lives of his +breed and class were passed. Every now and then he would take +one or two pictures away with him in a cab, and stop at Jobson's +on his way into the City. + +He rarely showed them to anyone; Irene, whose opinion he secretly +respected and perhaps for that reason never solicited, had only +been into the room on rare occasions, in discharge of some wifely +duty. She was not asked to look at the pictures, and she never +did. To Soames this was another grievance. He hated that pride +of hers, and secretly dreaded it. + +In the plate-glass window of the picture shop his image stood and +looked at him. + +His sleek hair under the brim of the tall hat had a sheen like +the hat itself; his cheeks, pale and flat, the line of his +clean-shaven lips, his firm chin with its greyish shaven tinge, +and the buttoned strictness of his black cut-away coat, conveyed +an appearance of reserve and secrecy, of imperturbable, enforced +composure; but his eyes, cold,--grey, strained--looking, with a +line in the brow between them, examined him wistfully, as if they +knew of a secret weakness. + +He noted the subjects of the pictures, the names of the painters, +made a calculation of their values, but without the satisfaction +he usually derived from this inward appraisement, and walked on. + +No. 62 would do well enough for another year, if he decided to +build! The times were good for building, money had not been so +dear for years; and the site he had seen at Robin Hill, when he +had gone down there in the spring to inspect the Nicholl +mortgage--what could be better! Within twelve miles of Hyde Park +Corner, the value of the land certain to go up, would always +fetch more than he gave for it; so that a house, if built in +really good style, was a first-class investment. + +The notion of being the one member of his family with a country +house weighed but little with him; for to a true Forsyte, +sentiment, even the sentiment of social position, was a luxury +only to be indulged in after his appetite for more material +pleasure had been satisfied. + +To get Irene out of London, away from opportunities of going +about and seeing people, away from her friends and those who put +ideas into her head! That was the thing! She was too thick with +June! June disliked him. He returned the sentiment. They were +of the same blood. + +It would be everything to get Irene out of town. The house would +please her she would enjoy messing about with the decoration, she +was very artistic! + +The house must be in good style, something that would always be +certain to command a price, something unique, like that last +house of Parkes, which had a tower; but Parkes had himself said +that his architect was ruinous. You never knew where you were +with those fellows; if they had a name they ran you into no end +of expense and were conceited into the bargain. + +And a common architect was no good--the memory of Parkes' tower +precluded the employment of a common architect: + +This was why he had thought of Bosinney. Since the dinner at +Swithin's he had made enquiries, the result of which had been +meagre, but encouraging: "One of the new school." + +"Clever?" + +"As clever as you like--a bit--a bit up in the air!" + +He had not been able to discover what houses Bosinney had built, +nor what his charges were. The impression he gathered was that +he would be able to make his own terms. The more he reflected on +the idea, the more he liked it. It would be keeping the thing in +the family, with Forsytes almost an instinct; and he would be +able to get 'favoured-nation,' if not nominal terms--only fair, +considering the chance to Bosinney of displaying his talents, for +this house must be no common edifice. + +Soames reflected complacently on the work it would be sure to +bring the young man; for, like every Forsyte, he could be a +thorough optimist when there was anything to be had out of it. + +Bosinney's office was in Sloane Street, close at, hand, so that +he would be able to keep his eye continually on the plans. + +Again, Irene would not be to likely to object to leave London if +her greatest friend's lover were given the job. June's marriage +might depend on it. Irene could not decently stand in the way of +June's marriage; she would never do that, he knew her too well. +And June would be pleased; of this he saw the advantage. + +Bosinney looked clever, but he had also--and--it was one of his +great attractions--an air as if he did not quite know on which +side his bread were buttered; he should be easy to deal with in +money matters. Soames made this reflection in no defrauding +spirit; it was the natural attitude of his mind--of the mind of +any good business man--of all those thousands of good business +men through whom he was threading his way up Ludgate Hill. + +Thus he fulfilled the inscrutable laws of his great class--of +human nature itself--when he reflected, with a sense of comfort, +that Bosinney would be easy to deal with in money matters. + +While he elbowed his way on, his eyes, which he usually kept +fixed on the ground before his feet, were attracted upwards by +the dome of St. Paul's. It had a peculiar fascination for him, +that old dome, and not once, but twice or three times a week, +would he halt in his daily pilgrimage to enter beneath and stop +in the side aisles for five or ten minutes, scrutinizing the +names and epitaphs on the monuments. The attraction for him of +this great church was inexplicable, unless it enabled him to +concentrate his thoughts on the business of the day. If any +affair of particular moment, or demanding peculiar acuteness, was +weighing on his mind, he invariably went in, to wander with +mouse-like attention from epitaph to epitaph. Then retiring in +the same noiseless way, he would hold steadily on up Cheapside, a +thought more of dogged purpose in his gait, as though he had seen +something which he had made up his mind to buy. + +He went in this morning, but, instead of stealing from monument +to monument, turned his eyes upwards to the columns and spacings +of the walls, and remained motionless. + +His uplifted face, with the awed and wistful look which faces +take on themselves in church, was whitened to a chalky hue in the +vast building. His gloved hands were clasped in front over the +handle of his umbrella. He lifted them. Some sacred inspiration +perhaps had come to him. + +'Yes,' he thought, 'I must have room to hang my pictures. + +That evening, on his return from the City, he called at +Bosinney's office. He found the architect in his shirt-sleeves, +smoking a pipe, and ruling off lines on a plan. Soames refused a +drink, and came at once to the point. + +"If you've nothing better to do on Sunday, come down with me to +Robin Hill, and give me your opinion on a building site." + +"Are you going to build?" + +"Perhaps," said Soames; "but don't speak of it. I just want your +opinion." + +"Quite so," said the architect. + +Soames peered about the room. + +"You're rather high up here," he remarked. + +Any information he could gather about the nature and scope of +Bosinney's business would be all to the good. + +"It does well enough for me so far," answered the architect. +"You're accustomed to the swells." + +He knocked out his pipe, but replaced it empty between his teeth; +it assisted him perhaps to carry on the conversation. Soames +noted a hollow in each cheek, made as it were by suction. + +"What do you pay for an office like this?" said he. + +"Fifty too much," replied Bosinney. + +This answer impressed Soames favourably. + +"I suppose it is dear," he said. "I'll call for you--on Sunday +about eleven." . + +The following Sunday therefore he called for Bosinney in a +hansom, and drove him to the station. On arriving at Robin Hill, +they found no cab, and started to walk the mile and a half to the +site. + +It was the 1st of August--a perfect day, with a burning sun and +cloudless sky--and in the straight, narrow road leading up the +hill their feet kicked up a yellow dust. + +"Gravel soil," remarked Soames, and sideways he glanced at the +coat Bosinney wore. Into the side-pockets of this coat were +thrust bundles of papers, and under one arm was carried a queer- +looking stick. Soames noted these and other peculiarities. + +No one but a clever man, or, indeed, a buccaneer, would have +taken such liberties with his appearance; and though these +eccentricities were revolting to Soames, he derived a certain +satisfaction from them, as evidence of qualities by which he must +inevitably profit. If the fellow could build houses, what did +his clothes matter? + +"I told you," he said, "that I want this house to be a surprise, +so don't say anything about it. I never talk of my affairs until +they're carried through." + +Bosinney nodded. + +"Let women into your plans," pursued Soames, "and you never know +where it'll end." + +"Ah!" Said Bosinney, "women are the devil!" + +This feeling had long been at the--bottom of Soames's heart; he +had never, however, put it into words. + +"Oh!" he Muttered, "so you're beginning to...." He stopped, but +added, with an uncontrollable burst of spite: "June's got a +temper of her own--always had." + +"A temper's not a bad thing in an angel." + +Soames had never called Irene an angel. He could not so have +violated his best instincts, letting other people into the secret +of her value, and giving himself away. He made no reply. + +They had struck into a half-made road across a warren. A +cart-track led at right-angles to a gravel pit, beyond which the +chimneys of a cottage rose amongst a clump of trees at the border +of a thick wood. Tussocks of feathery grass covered the rough +surface of the ground, and out of these the larks soared into the +hate of sunshine. On the far horizon, over a countless +succession of fields and hedges, rose a line of downs. + +Soames led till they had crossed to the far side, and there he +stopped. It was the chosen site; but now that he was about to +divulge the spot to another he had become uneasy. + +"The agent lives in that cottage," he said; "he'll give us some +lunch--we'd better have lunch before we go into this matter." + +He again took the lead to the cottage, where the agent, a tall +man named Oliver, with a heavy face and grizzled beard, welcomed +them. During lunch, which Soames hardly touched, he kept looking +at Bosinney, and once or twice passed his silk handkerchief +stealthily over his forehead. The meal came to an end at last, +and Bosinney rose. + +"I dare say you've got business to talk over," he said; "I'll +just go and nose about a bit." Without waiting for a reply he +strolled out. + +Soames was solicitor to this estate, and he spent nearly an hour +in the agent's company, looking at ground-plans and discussing +the Nicholl and other mortgages; it was as it were by an +afterthought that he brought up the question of the building +site. + +"Your people," he said, "ought to come down in their price to me, +considering that I shall be the first to build." + +Oliver shook his head. + +The site you've fixed on, Sir, he said, "is the cheapest we've +got. Sites at the top of the slope are dearer by a good bit." + +"Mind," said Soames," I've not decided; it's quite possible I +shan't build at all. The ground rent's very high." + +"Well, Mr. Forsyte, I shall be sorry if you go off, and I think +you'll make a mistake, Sir. There's not a bit of land near +London with such a view as this, nor one that's cheaper, all +things considered; we've only to advertise, to get a mob of +people after it." + +They looked at each other. Their faces said very plainly: 'I +respect you as a man of business; and you can't expect me to +believe a word you say.' + +Well, repeated Soames, "I haven't made up my mind; the thing will +very likely go off!" With these words, taking up his umbrella, +he put his chilly hand into the agent's, withdrew it without the +faintest pressure, and went out into the sun. + +He walked slowly back towards the site in deep thought. His +instinct told him that what the agent had said was true. A cheap +site. And the beauty of it was, that he knew the agent did not +really think it cheap; so that his own intuitive knowledge was a +victory over the agent's. + +'Cheap or not, I mean to have it,' he thought. + +The larks sprang up in front of his feet, the air was full of +butterflies, a sweet fragrance rose from the wild grasses. The +sappy scent of the bracken stole forth from the wood, where, +hidden in the depths, pigeons were cooing., and from afar on the +warm breeze, came the rhythmic chiming of church bells. + +Soames walked with his eyes on the ground, his lips opening and +closing as though in anticipation of a delicious morsel. But +when he arrived at the site, Bosinney was nowhere to be seen. +After waiting some little time, he crossed the warren in the +direction of the slope. He would have shouted, but dreaded the +sound of his voice . + +The warren was as lonely as a prairie, its silence only broken by +the rustle of rabbits bolting to their holes, and the song of the +larks. + +Soames, the pioneer-leader of the great Forsyte army advancing to +the civilization of this wilderness, felt his spirit daunted by +the loneliness, by the invisible singing, and the hot, sweet air. +He had begun to retrace his steps when he at last caught sight of +Bosinney. + +The architect was sprawling under a large oak tree, whose trunk, +with a huge spread of bough and foliage, ragged with age, stood +on the verge of the rise. + +Soames had to touch him on the shoulder before he looked up. + +"Hallo! Forsyte," he said, "I've found the very place for your +house! Look here!" + +Soames stood and looked, then he said, coldly: + +"You may be very clever, but this site will cost me half as much +again." + +"Hang the cost, man. Look at the view!" + +Almost from their feet stretched ripe corn, dipping to a small +dark copse beyond. A plain of fields and hedges spread to the +distant grey-bluedowns. In a silver streak to the right could be +seen the line of the river. + +The sky was so blue, and the sun so bright, that an eternal +summer seemed to reign over this prospect. Thistledown floated +round them, enraptured by the serenity, of the ether. The heat +danced over the corn, and, pervading all, was a soft, insensible +hum, like the murmur of bright minutes holding revel between +earth and heaven. + +Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his +breast. To live here in sight of all this, to be able to point +it out to his friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks +flushed. The warmth, the radiance, the glow, were sinking into +his senses as, four years before, Irene's beauty had sunk into +his senses and made him long for her. He stole a glance at +Bosinney, whose eyes, the eyes of the coachman's 'half-tame +leopard,' seemed running wild over the landscape. The sunlight +had caught the promontories of the fellow"s face, the bumpy +cheekbones, the point of his chin, the vertical ridges above his +brow; and Soames watched this rugged, enthusiastic, careless face +with an unpleasant feeling. + +A long, soft ripple of wind flowed over the corn, and brought a +puff of warm air into their faces. + +"I could build you a teaser here," said Bosinney, breaking the +silence at last. + +"I dare say," replied Soames, drily. "You haven't got to pay for +it." + +"For about eight thousand I could build you a palace." + +Soames had become very pale--a struggle was going on within him. +He dropped his eyes, and said stubbornly: + +"I can't afford it." + +And slowly, with his mousing walk, he led the way back to the +first site. + +They spent some time there going into particulars of the +projected house, and then Soames returned to the agent's cottage. + +He came out in about half an hour, and, joining Bosinney, +started for the station. + +"Well," he said, hardly opening his lips, "I've taken that site +of yours, after all." + +And again he was silent, confusedly debating how it was that this +fellow, whom by habit he despised, should have overborne his own +decision. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A FORSYTE MENAGE + + +Like the enlightened thousands of his class and generation in +this great city of London, who no longer believe in red velvet +chairs, and know that groups of modern Italian marble are 'vieux +jeu,' Soames Forsyte inhabited a house which did what it could. +It owned a copper door knocker of individual design, windows +which had been altered to open outwards, hanging flower boxes +filled with fuchsias, and at the back (a great feature) a little +court tiled with jade-green tiles, and surrounded by pink +hydrangeas in peacock-blue tubs. Here, under a parchment- +coloured Japanese sunshade covering the whole end, inhabitants +or visitors could be screened from the eyes of the curious +while they drank tea and examined at their leisure the latest +of Soames's little silver boxes.. + +The inner decoration favoured the First Empire and William +Morris. For its size, the house was commodious; there were +countless nooks resembling birds' nests, and little things made +of silver were deposited like eggs. + +In this general perfection two kinds of fastidiousness were at +war. There lived here a mistress who would have dwelt daintily +on a desert island; a master whose daintiness was, as it were, an +investment, cultivated by the owner for his advancement, in +accordance with the laws of competition. This competitive +daintiness had caused Soames in his Marlborough days to be the +first boy into white waistcoats in summer, and corduroy +waistcoats in winter, had prevented him from ever appearing in, +public with his tie climbing up his collar, and induced him to +dust his patent leather boots before a great multitude assembled +on Speech Day to hear him recite Moliere. + +Skin-like immaculateness had grown over Soames, as over many +Londoners; impossible to conceive of him with a hair out of +place, a tie deviating one-eighth of an inch from the +perpendicular, a collar unglossed! He would not have gone +without a bath for worlds--it was the fashion to take baths; and +how bitter was his scorn of people who omitted them! + +But Irene could be imagined, like some nymph, bathing in wayside +streams, for the joy of the freshness and of seeing her own fair +body. + +In this conflict throughout the house the woman had gone to the +wall. As in the struggle between Saxon and Celt still going on +within the nation, the more impressionable and receptive +temperament had had forced on it a conventional superstructure. + +Thus the house had acquired a close resemblance to hundreds of +other houses with the same high aspirations, having become: 'That +very charming little house of the Soames Forsytes, quite +individual, my dear--really elegant.' + +For Soames Forsyte--read James Peabody, Thomas Atkins, or +Emmanuel Spagnoletti, the name in fact of any upper-middle class +Englishman in London with any pretensions to taste; and though +the decoration be different, the phrase is just. + +On the evening of August 8, a week after the expedition to Robin +Hill, in the dining-room of this house--'quite individual, my +dear--really elegant'- Soames and Irene were seated at dinner. A +hot dinner on Sundays was a little distinguishing elegance common +to this house and many others. Early in married life Soames had +laid down the rule: 'The servants must give us hot dinner on +Sundays--they've nothing to do but play the concertina.' + +The custom had produced no revolution. For--to Soames a rather +deplorable sign--servants were devoted to Irene, who, in defiance +of all safe tradition, appeared to recognise their right to a +share in the weaknesses of human nature. + +The happy pair were seated, not opposite each other, but +rectangularly, at the handsome rosewood table; they dined without +a cloth--a distinguishing elegance--and so far had not spoken a +word. + +Soames liked to talk during dinner about business, or what he had +been buying, and so long as he talked Irene's silence did not +distress him. This evening he had found it impossible to talk. +The decision to build had been weighing on his mind all the week, +and he had made up his mind to tell her. + +His nervousness about this disclosure irritated him profoundly; +she had no business to make him feel like that--a wife and a +husband being one person. She had not looked at him once since +they sat down; and he wondered what on earth she had been +thinking about all the time. It was hard, when a man worked as +he did, making money for her--yes, and with an ache in his heart- +-that she should sit there, looking--looking as if she saw the +walls of the room closing in. It was enough to make a man get up +and leave the table. + +The light from the rose-shaded lamp fell on her neck and arms-- +Soames liked her to dine in a low dress, it gave him an +inexpressible feeling of superiority to the majority of his +acquaintance, whose wives were contented with their best high +frocks or with tea-gowns, when they dined at home. Under that +rosy light her amber-coloured hair and fair skin made strange +contrast with her dark brown eyes. + +Could a man own anything prettier than this dining-table with its +deep tints, the starry, soft-petalled roses, the ruby-coloured +glass, and quaint silver furnishing; could a man own anything +prettier than the woman who sat at it? Gratitude was no virtue +among Forsytes, who, competitive, and full of common-sense, had +no occasion for it; and Soames only experienced a sense of +exasperation amounting to pain, that he did not own her as it was +his right, to own her, that he could not, as by stretching out +his hand to that rose, pluck her and sniff the very secrets of +her heart. + +Out of his other property, out of all the things he had +collected, his silver, his pictures, his houses, his investments, +he got a secret and intimate feeling; out of her he got none. + +In this house of his there was writing on every wall. His +business-like temperament protested against a mysterious warning +that she was not made for him. He had married this woman, +conquered her, made her his own, and it seemed to him contrary to +the most fundamental of all laws, the law of possession, that he +could do no more than own her body--if indeed he could do that, +which he was beginning to doubt. If any one had asked him if he +wanted to own her soul, the question would have seemed to him +both ridiculous and sentimental. But he did so want, and the +writing said he never would. + +She was ever silent, passive, gracefully averse; as though +terrified lest by word, motion, or sign she might lead him to +believe that she was fond of him; and he asked himself: Must I +always go on like this? + +Like most novel readers of his generation (and Soames was a great +novel reader), literature coloured his view of life; and he had +imbibed the belief that it was only a question of time. + +In the end the husband always gained the affection of his wife. +Even in those cases--a class of book he was not very fond of-- +which ended in tragedy, the wife always died with poignant +regrets on her lips, or if it were the husband who died-- +unpleasant thought--threw herself on his body in an agony of +remorse. + +He often took Irene to the theatre, instinctively choosing the +modern Society Plays with the modern Society conjugal problem, so +fortunately different from any conjugal problem in real life. He +found that they too always ended in the same way, even when there +was a lover in the case. While he was watching the play Soames +often sympathized with the lover; but before he reached home +again, driving with Irene in a hansom, he saw that this would not +do, and he was glad the play had ended as it had. There was one +class of husband that had just then come into fashion, the +strong, rather rough, but extremely sound man, who was peculiarly +successful at the end of the play; with this person Soames was +really not in sympathy, and had it not been for his own position, +would have expressed his disgust with the fellow. But he was so +conscious of how vital to himself was the necessity for being a +successful, even a 'strong,' husband, that be never spoke of a +distaste born perhaps by the perverse processes of Nature out of +a secret fund of brutality in himself. + +But Irene's silence this evening was exceptional. He had never +before seen such an expression on her face. And since it is +always the unusual which alarms, Soames was alarmed. He ate his +savoury, and hurried the maid as she swept off the crumbs with +the silver sweeper. When she had left the room, he filled his. +glass with wine and said: + +"Anybody been here this afternoon?" + +"June." + +"What did she want?" It was an axiom with the Forsytes that +people did not go anywhere unless they wanted something. "Came +to talk about her lover, I suppose?" + +Irene made no reply. + +It looks to me," continued Soames, "as if she were sweeter on him +than he is on her. She's always following him about." + +Irene's eyes made him feel uncomfortable. + +"You've no business to say such a thing!" she exclaimed. + +"Why not? Anybody can see it." + +"They cannot. And if they could, it's disgraceful to say so." + +Soames's composure gave way. + +"You're a pretty wife!" he said. But secretly he wondered at the +heat of her reply; it was unlike her. "You're cracked about +June! I can tell you one thing: now that she has the Buccaneer +in tow, she doesn't care twopence about you, and, you'll find it +out. But you won't see so much of her in future; we're going to +live in the country." + +He had been glad to get his news out under cover of this burst of +irritation. He had expected a cry of dismay; the silence with +which his pronouncement was received alarmed him. + +"You don't seem interested," he was obliged to add. + +"I knew it already." + +He looked at her sharply. + +"Who told you?" + +"June." + +"How did she know?" + +Irene did not answer. Baffled and uncomfortable, he said: + +"It's a fine thing for Bosinney, it'll be the making of him. I +suppose she's told you all about it?" + +"Yes." + +There was another pause, and then Soames said: + +"I suppose you don't want to, go?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"Well, I can't tell what you want. You never seem contented +here." + +"Have my wishes anything to do with it?" + +She took the vase of roses and left the room. Soames remained +seated. Was it for this that he had signed that contract? Was +it for this that he was going to spend some, ten thousand pounds? +Bosinney"s phrase came back to him: "Women are the devil!" + +But presently he grew calmer. It might have, been worse. She +might have flared up. He had expected something more than this. +It was lucky, after all, that June had broken the ice for him. +She must have wormed it out of Bosinney; he might have known she +would. + +He lighted his cigarette. After all, Irene had not made a scene! +She would come round--that was the best of her; she was cold, but +not sulky. And, puffing the cigarette smoke at a lady-bird on +the shining table, he plunged into a reverie about the house. It +was no good worrying; he would go and make it up presently. She +would be sitting out there in the dark, under the Japanese +sunshade, knitting. A beautiful, warm night.... + +In truth, June had come in that afternoon with shining eyes, and +the words: "Soames is a brick! It's splendid for Phil--the very +thing for him!" + +Irene's face remaining dark and puzzled, she went on: + +"Your new house at Robin Hill, of course. What? Don't you +know?" + +Irene did not know. + +"Oh! then, I suppose I oughtn't to have told you!" Looking +impatiently at her friend,, she cried: "You look as if you didn't +care. Don't you see, it's what I've' been praying for--the very +chance he's been wanting all this time. Now you'll see what he +can do;" and thereupon she poured out the whole story. + +Since her own engagement she had not seemed much interested in +her friend's position; the hours she spent with Irene were given +to confidences of her own; and at times, for all her affectionate +pity, it was impossible to keep out of her smile a trace of +compassionate contempt for the woman who had made such a mistake +in her life--such a vast, ridiculous mistake. + +"He's to have all the decorations as well--a free hand. It's +perfect--"June broke into laughter, her little figure quivered +gleefully; she raised her hand, and struck a blow at a muslin +curtain. "Do you, know I even asked Uncle James...." But, with a +sudden dislike to mentioning that incident, she stopped; and +presently, finding her friend so unresponsive, went away. She +looked back from the pavement, and Irene was still standing in +the doorway. In response to her farewell wave, Irene put her +hand to her brow, and, turning slowly, shut the door.... + +Soames went to the drawing-room presently, and peered at her +through the window. + +Out in the shadow of the Japanese sunshade she was sitting very +still, the lace on her white shoulders stirring with the soft +rise and fall of her bosom. + +But about this silent creature sitting there so motionless, in +the dark, there seemed a warmth, a hidden fervour of feeling, as +if the whole of her being had been stirred, and some change were +taking place in its very depths. + +He stole back to the dining-room unnoticed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JAMES AT LARGE + + +It was not long before Soames's determination to build went the +round of the family, and created the flutter that any decision +connected with property should make among Forsytes. + +It was not his fault, for he had been determined that no one +should know. June, in the fulness of her heart had told Mrs. +Small, giving her leave only to tell Aunt Ann--she thought it +would cheer her, the poor old sweet! for Aunt Ann had kept her +room now for many days. + +Mrs. Small told Aunt Ann at once, who, smiling as she lay back on +her pillows, said in her distinct, trembling old voice: + +"It's very nice for dear June; but I hope they will be careful-- +it's rather dangerous!" + +When she was left alone again, a frown, like a cloud presaging a +rainy morrow, crossed her face. + +While she was lying there so many days the process of recharging +her will went on all the time; it spread to her face, too, and +tightening movements were always in action at the corners of her +lips. + +The maid Smither, who had been in her service since girlhood, and +was spoken of as "Smither--a good girl--but so slow!"--the maid +Smither performed every morning with extreme punctiliousness the +crowning ceremony of that ancient toilet. Taking from the +recesses of their, pure white band-box those flat, grey curls, +the insignia of personal dignity, she placed them securely in her +mistress's hands, and turned her back. + +And every day Aunts Juley and Hester were required to come and +report on Timothy; what news there was of Nicholas; whether dear +June had succeeded in getting Jolyon to shorten the engagement, +now that Mr. Bosinney was building Soames a house; whether young +Roger's wife was really--expecting; how the operation on Archie +had succeeded; and what Swithin. had done about that empty house +in Wigmore Street, where the tenant had lost all his money and +treated him so badly; above all, about Soames; was Irene still-- +still asking for a separate room? And every morning Smither was +told: "I shall be coming down this afternoon, Smither, about two +o'clock. I shall want your arm, after all these days in bed!" + +After telling Aunt Ann, Mrs. Small had spoken of the house in the +strictest confidence to Mrs. Nicholas, who in her turn had asked +Winifred Dartie for confirmation, supposing, of course, that, +being Soames's sister, she would know all about it. Through her +it had in due course come round to the ears of James. He had been +a good deal agitated. + +"Nobody," he said, "told him anything." And, rather than go +direct to Soames himself, of whose taciturnity he was afraid, he +took his umbrella and went round to Timothy's. + +He found Mrs. Septimus and Hester (who had been told--she was so +safe, she found it tiring to talk) ready, and indeed eager, to +discuss the news. It was very good of dear Soames, they thought, +to employ Mr. Bosinney, but rather risky. What had George named +him? 'The Buccaneer' How droll! But George was always droll! +However, it would be all in the family they supposed they must +really look upon Mr. Bosinney as belonging to the family, though +it seemed strange. + +James here broke in: + +"Nobody knows anything about him. I don't see what Soames wants +with a young man like that. I shouldn't be surprised if Irene +had put her oar in. I shall speak to...." + +"Soames," interposed Aunt Juley, "told Mr. Bosinney that he +didn't wish it mentioned. He wouldn't like it to be talked +about, I'm sure, and if Timothy knew he would be very vexed, +I...." + +James put his hand behind his ear: + +"What?" he said. "I'm getting very deaf. I suppose I don't hear +people. Emily's got a bad toe. We shan't be able to start for +Wales till the end of the month. There' s always something!" +And, having got what he wanted, he took his hat and went away. + +It was a fine afternoon, and he walked across the Park towards +Soames's, where he intended to dine, for Emily's toe kept her in +bed, and Rachel and Cicely were on a visit to the country. He +took the slanting path from the Bayswater side of the Row to the +Knightsbridge Gate, across a pasture of short, burnt grass, +dotted with blackened sheep, strewn with seated couples and +strange waifs; lying prone on their faces, like corpses on a +field over which the wave of battle has rolled. + +He walked rapidly, his head bent, looking neither to right nor, +left. The appearance of this park, the centre of his own +battle-field, where he had all his life been fighting, excited no +thought or speculation in his, mind. These corpses flung down, +there, from out the press and turmoil of the struggle, these +pairs of lovers sitting cheek by jowl for an hour of idle Elysium +snatched from the monotony of their treadmill, awakened no +fancies in his mind; he had outlived that kind of imagination; +his nose, like the nose of a sheep, was fastened to the pastures +on which he browsed. + +One of his tenants had lately shown a disposition to be +behind-hand in his rent, and it had become a grave question +whether he had not better turn him out at once, and so run the +risk of not re-letting before Christmas. Swithin had just been +let in very badly, but it had served him right--he had held on +too long. + +He pondered this as he walked steadily, holding his umbrella +carefully by the wood, just below the crook of the handle, so as +to keep the ferule off the ground, and not fray the silk in the +middle. And, with his thin, high shoulders stooped, his long +legs moving with swift mechanical precision, this passage through +the Park, where the sun shone with a clear flame on so much +idleness--on so many human evidences of the remorseless battle of +Property, raging beyond its ring--was like the flight of some +land bird across the sea. + +He felt a--touch on the arm as he came out at, Albert Gate. + +It was Soames, who, crossing from the shady side of Piccadilly, +where he had been walking home from the office, had suddenly +appeared alongside. + +"Your mother's in bed," said James; "I was, just coming to you, +but I suppose I shall be in the way." + +The outward relations between James and his son were marked by a +lack of sentiment peculiarly Forsytean, but for all that the two +were by no means unattached. Perhaps they regarded one another +as an investment; certainly they were solicitous of each other's +welfare, glad of each other's company. They had never exchanged +two words upon the more intimate problems of life, or revealed in +each other's presence the existence of any deep feeling. + +Something beyond the power of word-analysis bound them together, +something hidden deep in the fibre of nations and families--for +blood, they say, is thicker than water--and neither of them was a +cold-blooded man. Indeed, in James love of his children was now +the prime motive of his existence. To have creatures who were +parts of himself, to whom he might transmit the money he saved, +was at the root of his saving; and, at seventy-five, what was +left that could give him pleasure, but--saving? The kernel of +life was in this saving for his children. + +Than James Forsyte, notwithstanding all his 'Jonah-isms,' there +was no saner man (if the leading symptom of sanity, as we are +told, is self-preservation, though without doubt Timothy went too +far) in all this London, of which he owned so much, and loved +with such a dumb love, as the centre of his opportunities. He +had the marvellous instinctive sanity of the middle class. In +him--more than in Jolyon, with his masterful will and his moments +of tenderness and philosophy--more than in Swithin, the martyr to +crankiness--Nicholas, the sufferer from ability--and Roger, the +victim of enterprise--beat the true pulse of compromise; of all +the brothers he was least remarkable in mind and person, and for +that reason more likely to live for ever. + +To James, more than to any of the others, was "the family' +significant and dear. There had always been something primitive +and cosy in his attitude towards life; he loved the family +hearth, he loved gossip, and he loved grumbling. All his +decisions were formed of a cream which he skimmed off the family +mind; and, through that family, off the minds of thousands of +other families of similar fibre. Year after year, week after +week, he went to Timothy's, and in his brother's front +drawing-room--his legs twisted, his long white whiskers framing +his clean-shaven mouth would sit watching the family pot simmer, +the cream rising to the top; and he would go away sheltered, +refreshed, comforted, with an indefinable sense of comfort. + +Beneath the adamant of his self-preserving instinct there was +much real softness in James; a visit to Timothy's was like an +hour spent in the lap of a mother; and the deep craving he +himself had for the protection of the family wing reacted in turn +on his feelings towards his own children; it was a nightmare to +him to think of them. exposed to the treatment of the world, in +money, health, or reputation. When his old friend John Street's +son volunteered for special service, he shook his head +querulously, and wondered what John Street was about to allow it; +and when young Street was assagaied, he took it so much to heart +that he made a point of calling everywhere with the special +object of saying: He knew how it would be--he'd no patience with +them! + +When his son-in-law Dartie had that financial crisis, due to +speculation in Oil Shares, James made himself ill worrying over +it; the knell of all prosperity seemed to have sounded. It took +him three months and a visit to Baden-Baden to get better; there +was something terrible in the idea that but for his, James's, +money, Dartie's name might have appeared in the Bankruptcy List. + +Composed of a physiological mixture so sound that if he had an +earache he thought he was dying, he regarded the occasional +ailments of his wife and children as in the nature of personal +grievances, special interventions of Providence for the purpose +of destroying his peace of mind; but he did not believe at all in +the ailments of people outside his own immediate family, +affirming them in every case to be due to neglected liver. + +His universal comment was: "What can they expect? I have it +myself, if I'm not careful!" + +When he went to Soames's that evening he felt that life was hard +on him: There was Emily with a bad toe, and Rachel gadding about +in the country; he got no sympathy from anybody; and Ann, she was +ill--he did not believe she would last through the summer; he had +called there three times now without her being able to see him! +And this idea of Soames's, building a house, that would have to +be looked into. As to the trouble with Irene, he didn't know +what was to come of that--anything might come of it! + +He entered 62, Montpellier Square with the fullest intentions of +being miserable. It was already half-past seven, and Irene, +dressed for dinner, was seated in the drawing- room. She was +wearing her gold-coloured frock--for, having been displayed at a +dinner-party, a soiree, and a dance, it was now to be worn at +home--and she had adorned the bosom with a cascade of lace, on +which James's eyes riveted themselves at once. + +"Where do you get your things?" he said in an aggravated voice. +"I never see Rachel and Cicely looking half so well. That +rose-point, now--that's not real!" + +Irene came close, to prove to him that he was in error. + +And, in spite of himself, James felt the influence of her +deference, of the faint seductive perfume exhaling from her. No +self-respecting Forsyte surrendered at a blow; so he merely said: +He didn't know--he expected she was spending a pretty penny on +dress. + +The gong sounded, and, putting her white arm within his, Irene +took him into the dining-room. She seated him in Soames's usual +place, round the corner on her left. The light fell softly +there, so that he would not be worried by the gradual dying of +the day; and she began to talk to him about himself. + +Presently, over James came a change, like the mellowing that +steals upon a fruit in the, sun; a sense of being caressed, and +praised, and petted, and all without the bestowal of a single +caress or word of praise. He felt that what he was eating was +agreeing with him; he could not get that feeling at home; he did +not know when he had enjoyed a glass of champagne so much, and, +on inquiring the brand and price, was surprised to find that it +was one of which he had a large stock himself, but could never +drink; he instantly formed the resolution to let his wine +merchant know that he had been swindled. + +Looking up from his food, he remarked: + +"You've a lot of nice things about the place. Now, what did you +give for that sugar-sifter? Shouldn't wonder if it was worth +money!" + +He was particularly pleased with the appearance of a picture, on +the wall opposite, which he himself had given them: + +"I'd no idea it was so good!" he said. + +They rose to go into the drawing-room, and James followed Irene +closely. + +"That's what I call a capital little dinner," he murmured, +breathing pleasantly down on her shoulder; "nothing heavy--and +not too Frenchified. But I can't get it at home. I pay my cook +sixty pounds a year, but she can't give me a dinner like that!" + +He had as yet made no allusion to the building of the house, nor +did he when Soames, pleading the excuse of business, betook +himself to the room at the top, where he kept his pictures. + +James was left alone with his daughter-in-law. The glow of the +wine, and of an excellent liqueur, was still within him. He felt +quite warm towards her. She was really a taking little thing; +she listened to you, and seemed to understand what you were +saying; and, while talking, he kept examining her figure, from +her bronze-coloured shoes to the waved gold of her hair. She was +leaning back in an Empire chair, her shoulders poised against the +top--her body, flexibly straight and unsupported from the hips, +swaying when she moved, as though giving to the arms of a lover. +Her lips were smiling, her eyes half-closed. + +It may have been a recognition of danger in the very charm of her +attitude, or a twang of digestion, that caused a sudden dumbness +to fall on James. He did not remember ever having, been quite +alone with Irene before. And, as he looked at her, an odd +feeling crept over him, as though he had come across something +strange and foreign. + +Now what was she thinking about--sitting back like that? + +Thus when he spoke it was in a sharper voice, as if he had been +awakened from a pleasant dream. + +"What d'you do with yourself all day?" he said. "You never come +round to Park Lane!" + +She seemed to be making very lame excuses, and James did not look + +at her. He did not want to believe that she was really avoiding +them--it would mean too much. + +"I expect the fact is, you haven't time," he said; "You're always +about with June. I expect you're useful to her with her young +man, chaperoning, and one thing and another. They tell me she's +never at home now; your Uncle Jolyon he doesn't like it, I fancy, +being left so much alone as he is. They tell me she's always +hanging about for this young Bosinney; I suppose he comes here +every day. Now, what do you think of him? D'you think he knows +his own mind? He seems to me a poor thing. I should say the +grey mare was the better horse!" + +The colour deepened in Irene's face; and James watched her +suspiciously. + +"Perhaps you don't quite understand Mr. Bosinney," she said. + +"Don't understand him!" James humied out: "Why not?--you can see +he's one of these artistic chaps. They say he's clever--they all +think they're clever. You know more about him than I do," he +added; and again his suspicious glance rested on her. + +"He is designing a house for Soames," she said softly, evidently +trying to smooth things over. + +"That brings me to what I was going to say," continued James; "I +don't know what Soames wants with a young man like that; why +doesn't he go to a first-rate man?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Bosinney is first-rate!" + +James rose, and took a turn with bent head. + +"That's it'," he said, "you young people, you all stick together; +you all think you know best!" + +Halting his tall, lank figure before her, he raised a finger, and +levelled it at her bosom, as though bringing an indictment +against her beauty: + +"All I can say is, these artistic people, or whatever they call +themselves, they're as unreliable as they can be; and my advice +to you is, don't you have too much to do with him!" + +Irene smiled; and in the curve of her lips was a strange +provocation. She seemed to have lost her deference. Her breast +rose and fell as though with secret anger; she drew her hands +inwards from their rest on the arms of her chair until the tips +of her fingers met, and her dark eyes looked unfathomably at +James. + +The latter gloomily scrutinized the floor. + +"I tell you my opinion," he said, "it's a pity you haven't got a +child to think about, and occupy you! + +A brooding look came instantly on Irene's face, and even James +became conscious of the rigidity that took possession of her +whole figure beneath the softness of its silk and lace clothing. + +He was frightened by the effect he had produced, and like most +men with but little courage, he sought at once to justify himself +by bullying. + +"You don't seem to care about going about. Why don't you drive +down to Hurlingham with us? And go to the theatre now and then. +At your time of life you ought to take an interest in things. +You're a young woman!" + +The brooding look darkened on her face; he grew nervous. + +"Well, I know nothing about it," he said; "nobody tells me +anything. Soames ought to be able to take care of himself. If +he can't take care of himself he mustn't look to me--that's all." + +Biting the corner of his forefinger he stole a cold, sharp look +at his daughter-in-law. + +He encountered her eyes fixed on his own, so dark and deep, that +he stopped, and broke into a gentle perspiration. + +"Well, I must be going," he said after a short pause, and a +minute later rose, with a slight appearance of surprise, as +though he had expected to be asked to stop. Giving his hand to +Irene, he allowed himself to be conducted to the door, and let +out into the street. He would not have a cab, he would walk, +Irene was to say good-night to Soames for him, and if she wanted +a little gaiety, well, he would drive her down to Richmond any +day. + +He walked home, and going upstairs, woke Emily out of the first +sleep she had had for four and twenty hours, to tell her that it +was his impression things were in a bad way at Soames's; on this +theme he descanted for half an hour, until at last, saying that +he would not sleep a wink, he turned on his side and instantly +began to snore. + +In Montpellier Square Soames, who had come from the picture room, +stood invisible at the top of the stairs, watching Irene sort the +letters brought by the last post. She turned back into the +drawing-room; but in a minute came out, and stood as if +listening. Then she came stealing up the stairs, with a kitten +in her arms. He could see her face bent over the little beast, +which was purring against her neck. Why couldn't she look at him +like that? + +Suddenly she saw him, and her face changed. + +"Any letters for me?" he said. + +"Three." + +He stood aside, and without another word she passed on into the +bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OLD JOLYON'S PECCADILLO + + +Old Jolyon came out of Lord's cricket ground that same afternoon +with the intention of going home. He had not reached Hamilton +Terrace before he changed his mind, and hailing a cab, gave the +driver an address in Wistaria Avenue. He had taken a resolution. + +June had hardly been at home at all that week; she had given him +nothing of her company for a long time past, not, in fact, since +she had become engaged to Bosinney. He never asked her for her +company. It was not his habit to ask people for things! She had +just that one idea now--Bosinney and his affairs--and she left +him stranded in his great house, with a parcel of servants, and +not a soul to speak to from morning to night. His Club was +closed for cleaning; his Boards in recess; there was nothing, +therefore, to take him into the City. June had wanted him to go +away; she would not go herself, because Bosinney was in London. + +But where was he to go by himself? He could not go abroad alone; +the sea upset his liver; he hated hotels. Roger went to a +hydropathic--he was--not going to begin that at his time of life, +those new-fangled places we're all humbug! + +With such formulas he clothed to himself the desolation of his +spirit; the lines down his face deepening, his eyes day by day +looking forth with the melancholy which sat so strangely on a +face wont to be strong and serene. + +And so that afternoon he took this journey through St. John's +Wood, in the golden-light that sprinkled the rounded green bushes +of the acacia's before the little houses, in the summer sunshine +that seemed holding a revel over the little gardens; and he +looked about him with interest; for this was a district which no +Forsyte entered without open disapproval and secret curiosity. + +His cab stopped in front of a small house of that peculiar buff +colour which implies a long immunity from paint. It had an outer +gate, and a rustic approach. + +He stepped out, his bearing extremely composed; his massive head, +with its drooping moustache and wings of white hair, very +upright, under an excessively large top hat; his glance firm, a +little angry. He had been driven into this! + +"Mrs. Jolyon Forsyte at home?" + +"Oh, yes sir!--what name shall I say, if you please, sir?" + +Old Jolyon could not help twinkling at the little maid as he gave +his name. She seemed to him such a funny little toad! + +And he followed her through the dark hall, into a small double, +drawing-room, where the furniture was covered in chintz, and the +little maid placed him in a chair. + +"They're all in the garden, sir; if you'll kindly take a seat, +I'll tell them." + +Old Jolyon sat down in the chintz-covered chair, and looked +around him. The whole place seemed to him, as he would have +expressed it, pokey; there was a certain--he could not tell +exactly what--air of shabbiness, or rather of making two ends +meet, about everything. As far as he could see, not a single +piece of furniture was worth a five-pound note. The walls, +distempered rather a long time ago, were decorated with +water-colour sketches; across the ceiling meandered a long crack. + +These little houses were all old, second-rate concerns; he should +hope the rent was under a hundred a year; it hurt him more than +he could have said, to think of a Forsyte--his own son living in +such a place. + +The little maid came back. Would he please to go down into the +garden? + +Old Jolyon marched out through the French windows. In descending +the steps he noticed that they wanted painting. + +Young Jolyon, his wife, his two children, and his dog Balthasar, +were all out there under a pear-tree. + +This walk towards them was the most courageous act of old +Jolyon's life; but no muscle of his face moved, no nervous +gesture betrayed him. He kept his deep-set eyes steadily on the +enemy. + +In those two minutes he demonstrated to perfection all that +unconscious soundness, balance, and vitality of fibre that made, +of him and so many others of his class the core of the nation. +In the unostentatious conduct of their own affairs, to the +neglect of everything else, they typified the essential +individualism, born in the Briton from the natural isolation of +his country's life. + +The dog Balthasar sniffed round the edges of his trousers; this +friendly and cynical mongrel offspring of a liaison between a +Russian poodle and a fox-terrier--had a nose for the unusual. + +The strange greetings over, old Jolyon seated himself in a wicker +chair, and his two grandchildren, one on each side of his knees, +looked at him silently, never having seen so old a man. + +They were unlike, as though recognising the difference set +between them by the circumstances of their births. Jolly, the +child of sin, pudgy-faced, with his tow-coloured hair brushed off +his forehead, and a dimple in his chin, had an air of stubborn +amiability, and the eyes of a Forsyte; little Holly, the child of +wedlock, was a dark-skinned, solemn soul, with her mother's, grey +and wistful eyes. + +The dog Balthasar, having walked round the three small flower- +beds, to show his extreme contempt for things at large, had also +taken a seat in front of old Jolyon, and, oscillating a tail +curled by Nature tightly over his back, was staring up with +eyes that did not blink. + +Even in the garden, that sense of things being pokey haunted old +Jolyon; the wicker chair creaked under his weight; the +garden-beds looked 'daverdy'; on the far side, under the smut- +stained wall, cats had made a path. + +While he and his grandchildren thus regarded each other with the +peculiar scrutiny, curious yet trustful, that passes between the +very young and the very old, young Jolyon watched his wife. + +The colour had deepened in her thin, oval face, with its straight +brows, and large, grey eyes. Her hair, brushed in fine, high +curves back from her forehead, was going grey, like his own, and +this greyness made the sudden vivid colour in her cheeks +painfully pathetic. + +The look on her face, such as he had never seen there before, +such as she had always hidden from him, was full of secret +resentments, and longings, and fears. Her eyes, under their +twitching brows, stared painfully. And she was silent. + +Jolly alone sustained the conversation; he had many possessions, +and was anxious that his unknown friend with extremely large +moustaches, and hands all covered with blue veins, who sat with +legs crossed like his own father (a habit he was himself trying +to acquire), should know it; but being a Forsyte, though not yet +quite eight years old, he made no mention of the thing at the +moment dearest to his heart--a camp of soldiers in a shop-window, +which his father had promised to buy. No doubt it seemed to him +too precious; a tempting of Providence to mention it yet. + +And the sunlight played through the leaves on that little party +of the three generations grouped tranquilly under the pear-tree, +which had long borne no fruit. + +Old Jolyon's furrowed face was reddening patchily, as old men's +faces redden in the sun. He took one of Jolly's hands in his +own; the boy climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized +by this sight, crept up to them; the sound of the dog Balthasar's +scratching arose rhythmically. + +Suddenly young Mrs. Jolyon got up and hurried indoors. A minute +later her husband muttered an excuse, and followed. Old Jolyon +was left alone with his grandchildren. + +And Nature with her quaint irony began working in him one of her +strange revolutions, following her cyclic laws into the depths of +his heart. And that tenderness for little children, that passion +for the beginnings of life which had once made him forsake his +son and follow June, now worked in him to forsake June and follow +these littler things. Youth, like a flame, burned ever in his +breast, and to youth he turned, to the round little limbs, so +reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so +unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the +shrill, chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and +the feel of small bodies against his legs, to all that was young +and young, and once more young. And his eyes grew soft, his +voice, and thin-veined hands soft, and soft his heart within him. +And to those small creatures he became at once a place of +pleasure, a place where they were secure, and could talk and +laugh and play; till, like sunshine, there radiated from old +Jolyon's wicker chair the perfect gaiety of three hearts. + +But with young Jolyon following to his wife's room it was +different. + +He found her seated on a chair before her dressing-glass, with +her hands before her face. + +Her shoulders were shaking with sobs. This passion of hers for +suffering was mysterious to him. He had been through a hundred +of these moods; how he had survived them he never knew, for he +could never believe they were moods, and that the last hour of +his partnership had not struck. + +In the night she would be sure to throw her o arms round, his +neck and say: "Oh! Jo, how I make you suffer!" as she had done a +hundred times before. + +He reached out his hand, and, unseen, slipped his razor-case into +his pocket. +'I cannot stay here,' he thought, 'I must go down!' Without a +word he left the room, and went back to the lawn. + +Old Jolyon had little Holly on his knee; she had taken possession +of his watch; Jolly, very red in the face, was trying to show +that he could stand on his head. The dog Balthasar, as close as +he might be to the tea-table, had fixed his eyes on the cake. + +Young Jolyon felt a malicious desire to cut their enjoyment +short. + +What business had his father to come and upset his wife like +this? It was a shock, after all these years! He ought to have +known; he ought to have given them warning; but when did a +Forsyte ever imagine that his conduct could upset anybody! And +in his thoughts he did old Jolyon wrong. + +He spoke sharply to the children, and told them to go in to their +tea. Greatly surprised, for they had never heard their father +speak sharply before, they went off, hand in hand, little Holly +looking back over her shoulder. + +Young Jolyon poured out the tea. + +"My wife's not the thing today," he said, but he knew well enough +that his father had penetrated the cause of that sudden +withdrawal, and almost hated the old man for sitting there so +calmly. + +"You've got a nice little house here," said old Jolyon with a +shrewd look; "I suppose you've taken a lease of it!" + +Young Jolyon nodded. + +"I don't like the neighbourhood," said old Jolyon; "a ramshackle +lot." + +Young Jolyon replied: "Yes, we're a ramshackle lot."' + +The silence was now only broken by the sound of the dog +Balthasar's scratching. + +Old Jolyon said simply: "I suppose I oughtn't to have come here, +Jo; but I get so lonely!" + +At these words young Jolyon got up and put his hand on his +father's shoulder. + +In the next house someone was playing over and over again: 'La +Donna mobile' on an untuned piano; and the little garden had +fallen into shade, the sun now only reached the wall at the end, +whereon basked a crouching cat, her yellow eyes turned sleepily +down on the dog Balthasar. There was a drowsy hum of very +distant traffic; the creepered trellis round the garden shut out +everything but sky, and house, and pear-tree, with its top +branches still gilded by the sun. + +For some time they sat there, talking but little. Then old +Jolyon rose to go, and not a word was said about his coming +again. + +He walked away very sadly. What a poor miserable place; and he +thought of the great, empty house in Stanhope Gate, fit residence +for a Forsyte, with its huge billiard-room and drawing-room that +no one entered from one week's end to another. + +That woman, whose face he had rather liked, was too thin-skinned +by half; she gave Jo a bad time he knew! And those sweet +children! Ah! what a piece of awful folly! + +He walked towards the Edgware Road, between rows of little +houses, all suggesting to him (erroneously no doubt, but the +prejudices of a Forsyte are sacred) shady histories of some sort +or kind. + +Society, forsooth, the chattering hags and jackanapes--had set +themselves up to pass judgment on his flesh and blood! A parcel +of old women! He stumped his umbrella on the ground, as though +to drive it into the heart of that unfortunate body, which had +dared to ostracize his son and his son's son, in whom he could +have lived again! + +He stumped his umbrella fiercely; yet he himself had followed +Society's behaviour for fifteen years--had only today been false +to it! + +He thought of June, and her dead mother, and the whole story, +with all his old bitterness. A wretched business! + +He was a long time reaching Stanhope Gate, for, with native +perversity, being extremely tired, he walked the whole way. + +After washing his hands in the lavatory downstairs, he went to +the dining-room to wait for dinner, the only room he used when +June was out--it was less lonely so. The evening paper had not +yet come; he had finished the Times, there was therefore nothing +to do. + +The room faced the backwater of traffic, and was very silent. He +disliked dogs, but a dog even would have been company. His gaze, +travelling round the walls, rested on a 'picture entitled: 'Group +of Dutch fishing boats at sunset; the chef d'oeuvre of his +collection. It gave him no pleasure. He closed his eyes. He +was lonely! He oughtn't to complain, he knew, but he couldn't +help it: He was a poor thing--had always been a poor thing--no +pluck! Such was his thought. + +The butler came to lay the table for dinner, and seeing his +master apparently asleep, exercised extreme caution in his +movements. This bearded man also wore a moustache, which had +given rise to grave doubts in the minds of many members--of the +family--, especially those who, like Soames, had been to public +schools, and were accustomed to niceness in such matters. Could +he really be considered a butler? Playful spirits alluded to him +as: 'Uncle Jolyon's Nonconformist'; George, the acknowledged wag, +had named him: 'Sankey.' + +He moved to and fro between the great polished sideboard and the +great polished table inimitably sleek and soft. + +Old Jolyon watched him, feigning sleep. The fellow was a sneak-- +he had always thought so--who cared about nothing but rattling +through his work, and getting out to his betting or his woman or +goodness knew what! A slug! Fat too! And didn't care a pin +about his master! + +But then against his will, came one of those moments of +philosophy which made old Jolyon different from other Forsytes: + +After all why should the man care? He wasn't paid to care, and +why expect it? In this world people couldn't look for affection +unless they paid for it. It might be different in the next--he +didn't know--couldn't tell! And again he shut his eyes. + +Relentless and stealthy, the butler pursued his labours, taking +things from the various compartments of the sideboard. His back +seemed always turned to old Jolyon; thus, he robbed his +operations of the unseemliness of being carried on in his +master's presence; now and then he furtively breathed on the +silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather. He +appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, +which he carried carefully and rather high, letting his heard +droop over them protectingly. When he had finished, he stood for +over a minute watching his master, and in his greenish eyes there +was a look of contempt: + +After all, this master of his was an old buffer, who hadn't much +left in him! + +Soft as a tom-cat, he crossed the room to press the bell. His +orders were 'dinner at seven.' What if his master were asleep; he +would soon have him out of that; there was the night to sleep in! +He had himself to think of, for he was due at his Club at +half-past eight! + +In answer to the ring, appeared a page boy with a silver soup +tureen. The butler took it from his hands and placed it on the. +table, then, standing by the open door, as though about to usher +company into the room, he said in a solemn voice: + +"Dinner is on the table, sir! + +Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the +table to eat his dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +PLANS OF THE HOUSE + + +Forsytes, as is generally admitted, have shells, like that +extremely useful little animal which is made into Turkish +delight, in other words, they are never seen, or if seen would +not be recognised, without habitats, composed of circumstance, +property, acquaintances, and wives, which seem to move along with +them in their passage through a world composed of thousands of +other Forsytes with their habitats. Without a habitat a Forsyte +is inconceivable--he would be like a novel without a plot, which +is well-known to be an anomaly. + +To Forsyte eyes Bosinney appeared to have no habitat, he seemed +one of those rare and unfortunate men who go through life +surrounded by circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives +that do not belong to them. + +His rooms in Sloane Street, on the top floor, outside which, on a +plate, was his name, 'Philip Baynes Bosinney, Architect,' were +not those of a Forsyte.--He had no sitting-room apart from his +office, but a large recess had been screened off to conceal the +necessaries of life--a couch, an easy chair, his pipes, spirit +case, novels and slippers. The business part of the room had the +usual furniture; an open cupboard with pigeon-holes, a round oak +table, a folding wash-stand, some hard chairs, a standing desk of +large dimensions covered with drawings and designs. June had +twice been to tea there under the chaperonage of his aunt. + +He was believed to have a bedroom at the back. + +As far as the family had been able to ascertain his income, it +consisted of two consulting appointments at twenty pounds a year, +together with an odd fee once in a way, and--more worthy item--a +private annuity under his father's will of one hundred and fifty +pounds a year. + +What had transpired concerning that father was not so reassuring. +It appeared that he had been a Lincolnshire country doctor of +Cornish extraction, striking appearance, and Byronic tendencies-- +a well-known figure, in fact, in his county. Bosinney's uncle by +marriage, Baynes, of Baynes and Bildeboy, a Forsyte in instincts +if not in name, had but little that was worthy to relate of his +brother-in-law. + +"An odd fellow!' he would say: 'always spoke of his three eldest +boys as 'good creatures, but so dull'; they're all doing +capitally in the Indian Civil! Philip was the only one he liked. +I've heard him talk in the queerest way; he once said to me: 'My +dear fellow, never let your poor wife know what you're thinking +of! But I didn't follow his advice; not I! An eccentric man! +He would say to Phil: 'Whether you live like a gentleman or not, +my boy, be sure you die like one! and he had himself embalmed in +a frock coat suit, with a satin cravat and a diamond pin. Oh, +quite an original, I can assure you I" + +Of Bosinney himself Baynes would speak warmly, with a certain +compassion: "He's got a streak of his father's Byronism. Why, +look at the way he threw up his chances when he left my office; +going off like that for six months with a knapsack, and all for +what?--to study foreign architecture--foreign! What could he +expect? And there he is--a clever young fellow--doesn't make his +hundred a year! Now this engagement is the best thing that could +have happened--keep him steady; he's one of those that go to bed +all day and stay up all night, simply because they've no method; +but no vice about him--not an ounce of vice. Old Forsyte's a +rich man!" + +Mr. Baynes made himself extremely pleasant to June, who +frequently visited his house in Lowndes Square at this period. + +"This house of your cousin's--what a capital man of business--is +the very thing for Philip," he would say to her; "you mustn't +expect to see too much of him just now, my dear young lady. The +good cause--the good cause! The young man must make his way. +When I was his age I was at work day and night. My dear wife +used to say to me, 'Bobby, don't work too hard, think of your +health'; but I never spared myself!" + +June had complained that her lover found no time to come to +Stanhope Gate. + +The first time he came again they had not been together a quarter +of an hour before, by one of those coincidences of which she was +a mistress, Mrs. Septimus Small arrived. Thereon Bosinney rose +and hid himself, according to previous arrangement, in the little +study, to wait for her departure. + +"My dear," said Aunt Juley, "how thin he is! I've often noticed +it with engaged people; but you mustn't let it get worse. +There's Barlow's extract of veal; it did your Uncle Swithin a lot +of good." + +June, her little figure erect before the hearth, her small face +quivering grimly, for she regarded her aunt's untimely visit in +the light of a personal injury, replied with scorn: + +"It's because he's busy; people who can do anything worth doing +are never fat!" + +Aunt Juley pouted; she herself had always been thin, but the only +pleasure she derived from the fact was the opportunity of longing +to be stouter. + +I don't think," she said mournfully, "that you ought to let them +call him 'The Buccaneer'; people might think it odd, now that +he's going to build a house for Soames. I do hope he will be +careful; it's so important for him. Soames has such good taste!" + +"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for +his taste, or any of the family's!" + +Mrs. Small was taken aback. + +"Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And +Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't +think so!" + +"H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!" + +Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: + +"And how will dear Irene like living in the country?" + +June gazed at her intently, with a look in her eyes as if her +conscience had suddenly leaped up into them; it passed; and an +even more intent look took its place, as if she had stared that +conscience out of countenance. She replied imperiously: + +Of course she'll like it; why shouldn't she?" + +Mrs. Small grew nervous. + +"I didn't know," she said; "I thought she mightn't like to leave +her friends. Your Uncle James says she doesn't take enough +interest in life. We think--I mean Timothy thinks--she ought to +go out more. I expect you'll miss her very much!" + +June clasped her hands behind her neck. + +"I do wish, "she cried, "Uncle Timothy wouldn't talk about what +doesn't concern him!" + +Aunt Juley rose to the full height of her tall figure. + +"He never talks about what doesn't concern him, she said. + +June was instantly compunctious; she ran to her aunt and kissed +her. + +"I'm very sorry, auntie; but I wish they'd let Irene alone." + +Aunt Juley, unable to think of anything further on the subject +that would be suitable, was silent; she prepared for departure, +hooking her black silk cape across her chest, and, taking up her +green reticule: + +"And how is your dear grandfather?" she asked in the hall, "I +expect he's very lonely now that all your time is taken up with +Mr. Bosinney." + +She bent and kissed her niece hungrily, and with little, mincing +steps passed away. + +The tears sprang up in June's eyes; running into the little +study, where Bosinney was sitting at the table drawing birds on +the back of an envelope, she sank down, by his side and cried: + +"Oh, Phil! it's all so horrid!" Her heart was as warm as the +colour of her hair. + +On the following Sunday morning, while Soames was shaving, a +message was brought him to the effect that Mr. Bosinney was +below, and would be glad to see him. Opening the door into his +wife's room, he said: + +"Bosinney's downstairs. Just go and entertain him while I finish +shaving. I'll be down in a minute. It's about the plans, I +expect." + +Irene looked at him, without reply, put the finishing touch to +her dress and went downstairs. He could not make her out about +this house. She had said nothing against it, and, as far as +Bosinney was concerned, seemed friendly enough. + +>From the window of his dressing-room he could see them talking +together in the little court below. He hurried on with his +shaving, cutting his chin twice. He heard them laugh, and +thought to himself: "Well, they get on all right, anyway!" + +As he expected, Bosinney had come round to fetch, him to look at +the plans. + +He took his hat and went over. + +The plans were spread on the oak table in the architect's room; +and pale, imperturbable, inquiring, Soames bent over them for a +long time without speaking. + +He said at last in a puzzled voice: + +"It's an odd sort of house!" + +A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle +round a covered-in court. This court, encircled by a gallery on +the upper floor, was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight +columns running up from the ground. + +It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house. + +"There's a lot of room cut to waste," pursued Soames. + +Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the +expression on his face. + +"The principle of this house," said the architect, "was that you +should have room to breathe--like a gentleman!" + +Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent +of the distinction he should acquire; and replied: + +"Oh! yes; I see." + +The peculiar look came into Bosinney's face which marked all, his +enthusiasms. + +"I've tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of +its own. If you don't like it, you'd better say so. It's +certainly the last thing to be considered--who wants self-respect +in a house, when you can squeeze in an extra lavatory?" He put +his finger suddenly down on the left division of the centre +oblong: "You can swing a cat here. This is for your pictures, +divided from this court by curtains; draw them back and you'll +have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six. This double-faced +stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, one +way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; You've +a southeast light from that, a north light from the court. The +rest of your pictures you can hang round the gallery upstairs, or +in the other rooms. "In architecture," he went on--and though +looking at Soames he did not seem to see him, which gave Soames +an unpleasant feeling--"as in life, you'll get no self-respect +without regularity. Fellows tell you that's old fashioned. It +appears to be peculiar any way; it never occurs to us to embody +the main principle of life in our buildings; we load our houses +with decoration, gimcracks, corners, anything to distract the +eye. On the contrary the eye should rest; get your effects with +a few strong lines. The whole thing is regularity there's no +self-respect without it." + +Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinney's +tie, which was far from being in the perpendicular; he was +unshaven too, and his dress not remarkable for order. +Architecture appeared to have exhausted his regularity. + +"Won't it look like a barrack?" he inquired. + +He did not at once receive a reply. + +"I can see what it is," said Bosinney, "you want one of Little- +master's houses--one of the pretty and commodious sort, where the +servants will live in garrets, and the front door be sunk so that +you may come up again. By all means try Littlemaster, you'll +find him a capital fellow, I've known him all my life!" + +Soames was alarmed. He had really been struck by the plans, and +the concealment of his satisfaction had been merely instinctive. +It was difficult for him to pay a compliment. He despised people +who were lavish with their praises. + +He found himself now in the embarrassing position of one who must +pay a compliment or run the risk of losing a good thing. +Bosinney was just the fellow who might tear up the plans and +refuse to act for him; a kind of grown-up child! + +This grown-up childishness, to which he felt so superior, +exercised a peculiar and almost mesmeric effect on Soames, for he +had never felt anything like it in himself. + +"Well," he stammered at last, "it's--it's, certainly original." + +He had such a private distrust and even dislike of the word=original' that he +felt he had not really given himself away by +this remark. + +Bosinney seemed pleased. It was the sort of thing that would +please a fellow like that! And his success encouraged Soames. + +"It's--a big place," he said. + +"Space, air, light," he heard Bosinney murmur, "you can't live +like a gentleman in one of Littlemaster's--he builds for +manufacturers." + +Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a +gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed +with manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general +principles revived. What the deuce was the good of talking about +regularity and self-respect? It looked to him as if the house +would be cold. + +"Irene can't stand the cold!" he said. + +"Ah!" said Bosinney sarcastically. "Your wife? She doesn't like +the cold? I'll see to that; she shan't be cold. Look here!" he +pointed, to four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the +court. "I've given you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you +can get them with very good designs." + +Soames looked suspiciously at these marks. + +"It's all very well, all this," he' said, "but what's it going to +cost?' + +The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket: + +"The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as +I thought you wouldn't stand that, I've compromised for a facing. +It ought to have a copper roof, but I've made it green slate. As +it is, including metal work, it'll cost you eight thousand five +hundred." + +"Eight thousand five hundred?" said Soames. "Why, I gave you an +outside limit of eight!" + +"Can't be done for a penny less," replied Bosinney coolly. + +"You must take it or leave it!" + +It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have +been made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to +throw the whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew +it--there was completeness about it, and dignity; the servants' +apartments were excellent too. He would gain credit by living in +a house like that--with such individual features, yet perfectly. +well-arranged. + +He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his +bedroom to shave and dress. + +The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames +watching him out of the corner of his eye. + +The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow--so he thought-- +when he was properly got up. + +Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in. + +She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June. + +"No, no," said Soames, "we've still got business to talk over!" + +At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to +eat. He was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, +and left him to spend the afternoon with Irene, while he stole +off to his pictures, after his Sunday habit. At tea-time he came +down to the drawing-room, and found them talking, as he expressed +it, nineteen to the dozen. + +Unobserved in the doorway, he congratulated himself that things +were taking the right turn. It was lucky she and Bosinney got +on; she seemed to be falling into line with the idea of the new +house. + +Quiet meditation among his pictures had decided him to spring the +five hundred if necessary; but he hoped that the afternoon might +have softened Bosinney's estimates. It was so purely a matter +which Bosinney could remedy if he liked; there must be a dozen +ways in which he could cheapen the production of a house without +spoiling the effect. + +He awaited, therefore, his opportunity till Irene was handing the +architect his first cup of tea. A chink of sunshine through the +lace of the blinds warmed her cheek, shone in the gold of her +hair, and in her soft eyes. Possibly the same gleam deepened +Bosinney's colour, gave the rather startled look to his face. + +Soames hated sunshine, and he at once got up, to draw the blind. +Then he took his own cup of tea from his wife, and said, more +coldly than he had intended: + +"Can't you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? +There must be a lot of little things you could alter." + +Bosinney drank off his tea at a gulp, put down his cup, and +answered: + +"Not one!" + +Soames saw that his suggestion had touched some unintelligible +point of personal vanity. + +"Well," he agreed, with sulky resignation; "you must have it your +own way, I suppose." + +A few minutes later Bosinney rose to go, and Soames rose too, to +see him off the premises. The architect seemed in absurdly high +spirits. After watching him walk away at a swinging pace, Soames +returned moodily to the drawing-room, where Irene was putting +away the music, and, moved by an uncontrollable spasm of +curiosity, he asked: + +"Well, what do you think of 'The Buccaneer'?" + +He looked at the carpet while waiting for her answer, and he had +to wait some time. + +"I don't know," she said at last. + +"Do you think he's good-looking?" + +Irene smiled. And it seemed to Soames that she was mocking him. + +"Yes," she answered; "very." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DEATH OF AUNT ANN + + +There came a morning at the end of September when Aunt Ann was +unable to take from Smither's hands the insignia of personal +dignity. After one look at the old face, the doctor, hurriedly +sent for, announced that Miss Forsyte had passed away in her +sleep. + +Aunts Juley and Hester were overwhelmed by the shock. They had +never imagined such an ending. Indeed, it is doubtful whether +they had ever realized that an ending was bound to come. +Secretly they felt it unreasonable of Ann to have left them like +this without a word, without even a struggle. It was unlike her. + +Perhaps what really affected them so profoundly was the thought +that a Forsyte should have let go her grasp on life. If one, +then why not all! + +It was a full hour before they could make up their minds to tell +Timothy. If only it could be kept from him! If only it could be +broken to him by degrees! + +And long they stood outside his door whispering together. And +when it was over they whispered together again. + +He would feel it more, they were afraid, as time went on. Still, +he had taken it better than could have been expected. He would +keep his bed, of course! + +They separated, crying quietly. + +Aunt Juley stayed in her room, prostrated by the blow. Her face, +discoloured by tears, was divided into compartments by the little +ridges of pouting flesh which had swollen with emotion. It was +impossible to conceive of life without Ann, who had lived with +her for seventy-three years, broken only by the short interregnum +of her married life, which seemed now so unreal. At fixed +intervals she went to her drawer, and took from beneath the +lavender bags a fresh pocket-handkerchief. Her warm heart could +not bear the thought that Ann was lying there so cold. + +Aunt Hester, the silent, the patient, that backwater of the +family energy, sat in the drawing-room, where the blinds were +drawn; and she, too, had wept at first, but quietly, without +visible effect. Her guiding principle, the conservation of +energy, did not abandon her in sorrow. She sat, slim, +motionless, studying the grate, her hands idle in the lap of her +black silk dress. They would want to rouse her into doing +something, no doubt. As if there were any good in that! Doing +something would not bring back Ann! Why worry her? + +Five o'clock brought three of the brothers, Jolyon and James and +Swithin; Nicholas was at Yarmouth, and Roger had a bad attack of +gout. Mrs. Hayman had been by herself earlier in the day, and, +after seeing Ann, had gone away, leaving a message for Timothy-- +which was kept from him--that she ought to have been told sooner. +In fact, there was a feeling amongst them all that they ought to +have been told sooner, as though they had missed something; and +James said: + +"I knew how it'd be; I told you she wouldn't last through the +summer." + +Aunt Hester made no reply; it was nearly October, but what was +the good of arguing; some people were never satisfied. + +She sent up to tell her sister that the brothers were there. +Mrs. Small came down at once. She had bathed her face, which was +still swollen, and though she looked severely at Swithin's +trousers, for they were of light blue--he had come straight from +the club, where the news had reached him she wore a more cheerful +expression than usual, the instinct for doing the wrong thing +being even now too strong for her. + +Presently all five went up to look at the body. Under the pure +white sheet a quilted counter-pane had been placed, for now, more +than ever, Aunt Ann had need of warmth; and, the pillows removed, +her spine and head rested flat, with the semblance of their +life-long inflexibility; the coif banding the top of her brow was +drawn on either side to the level of the ears, and between it and +the sheet her face, almost as white, was turned with closed eyes +to the faces of her brothers and sisters. In its extraordinary +peace the face was stronger than ever, nearly all bone now under +the scarce-wrinkled parchment of skin--square jaw and chin, +cheekbones, forehead with hollow temples, chiselled nose--the +fortress of an unconquerable spirit that had yielded to death, +and in its upward sightlessness seemed trying to regain that +spirit, to regain the guardianship it had just laid down. + +Swithin took but one look at the face, and left the room; the +sight, he said afterwards, made him very queer. He went +downstairs shaking the whole house, and, seizing his hat, +clambered into his brougham, without giving any directions to the +coachman. He was driven home, and all the evening sat in his +chair without moving. + +He could take nothing for dinner but a partridge, with an +imperial pint of champagne.... + +Old Jolyon stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands folded in +front of him. He alone of those in the room remembered the death +of his mother, and though he looked at Ann, it was of that he was +thinking. Ann was an old woman, but death had come to her at +last--death came to all! His face did not move, his gaze seemed +travelling from very far. + +Aunt Hester stood beside him. She did not cry now, tears were +exhausted--her nature refused to permit a further escape of +force; she twisted her hands, looking not at Ann, but from side +to side, seeking some way of escaping the effort of realization. + +Of all the brothers and sisters James manifested the most +emotion. Tears rolled down the parallel furrows of his thin +face; where he should go now to tell his troubles he did not +know; Juley was no good, Hester worse than useless! He felt +Ann's death more than he had ever thought he should; this would +upset him for weeks! + +Presently Aunt Hester stole out, and Aunt Juley began moving +about, doing 'what was necessary,' so that twice she knocked +against something. Old Jolyon, roused from his reverie, that +reverie of the long, long past, looked sternly at her, and went +away. James alone was left by the bedside; glancing stealthily +round, to see that he was not observed, he twisted his long body +down, placed a kiss on the dead forehead, then he, too, hastily +left the room. Encountering Smither in the hall, he began to ask +her about the funeral, and, finding that she knew nothing, +complained bitterly that, if they didn't take care, everything +would go wrong. She had better send for Mr. Soames--he knew all +about that sort of thing; her master was very much upset, he +supposed--he would want looking after; as for her mistresses, +they were no good--they had no gumption! They would be ill too, +he shouldn't wonder. She had better send for the doctor; it was +best to take things in time. He didn't think his sister Ann had +had the best opinion; if she'd had Blank she would have been +alive now. Smither might send to Park Lane any time she wanted +advice. Of course, his carriage was at their service for the +funeral. He supposed she hadn't such a thing as a glass of +claret and a biscuit--he had had no lunch! + +The days before the funeral passed quietly. It had long been +known, of course, that Aunt Ann had left her little property to +Timothy. There was, therefore, no reason for the slightest +agitation. Soames, who was sole executor, took charge of all +arrangements, and in due course sent out the following invitation +to every male member of the family: + + +To........... + +Your presence is requested at the funeral of Miss Ann Forsyte, in +Highgate Cemetery, at noon of Oct. 1st. Carriages will meet at +"The Bower," Bayswater Road, at 10.45. No flowers by request. + +'R.S.V.P.' + + +The morning came, cold, with a high, grey, London sky, and at +half-past ten the first carriage, that of James, drove up. It +contained James and his son-in-law Dartie, a fine man, with a +square chest, buttoned very tightly into a frock coat, and a +sallow, fattish face adorned with dark, well-curled moustaches, +and that incorrigible commencement of whisker which, eluding the +strictest attempts at shaving, seems the mark of something deeply +ingrained in the personality of the shaver, being especially +noticeable in men who speculate. + +Soames, in his capacity of executor, received the guests, for +Timothy still kept his bed; he would get up after the funeral; +and Aunts Juley and Hester would not be coming down till all was +over, when it was understood there would be lunch for anyone who +cared to come back. The next to arrive was Roger, still limping +from the gout, and encircled by three of his sons--young Roger, +Eustace, and Thomas. George, the remaining son, arrived almost +immediately afterwards in a hansom, and paused in the hall to ask +Soames how he found undertaking pay. + +They disliked each other. + +Then came two Haymans--Giles and Jesse perfectly silent, and very +well dressed, with special creases down their evening trousers. +Then old Jolyon alone. Next, Nicholas, with a healthy colour in +his face, and a carefully veiled sprightliness in every movement +of his head and body. One of his sons followed him, meek and +subdued. Swithin Forsyte, and Bosinney arrived at the same +moment,--and stood--bowing precedence to each other,--but on the +door opening they tried to enter together; they renewed their +apologies in the hall, and, Swithin, settling his stock, which +had become disarranged in the struggle, very slowly mounted the +stairs. The other Hayman; two married sons of Nicholas, together +with Tweetyman, Spender, and Warry, the husbands of married +Forsyte and Hayman daughters. The company was then complete, +twenty-one in all, not a male member of the family being absent +but Timothy and young Jolyon. + +Entering the scarlet and green drawing-room, whose apparel made +so vivid a setting for their unaccustomed costumes, each tried +nervously to find a seat, desirous of hiding the emphatic +blackness of his trousers. There seemed a sort of indecency in +that blackness and in the colour of their gloves--a sort of +exaggeration of the feelings; and many cast shocked looks of +secret envy at 'the Buccaneer,' who had no gloves, and was +wearing grey trousers. A subdued hum of conversation rose, no +one speaking of the departed, but each asking after the other, as +though thereby casting an indirect libation to this event, which +they had come to honour. + +And presently James said: + +"Well, I think we ought to be starting." + +They went downstairs, and, two and two, as they had been told off +in strict precedence, mounted the carriages. + +The hearse started at a foot's pace; the carriages moved slowly +after. In the first went old Jolyon with Nicholas; in the +second, the twins, Swithin and James; in the third, Roger and +young Roger; Soames, young Nicholas, George, and Bosinney +followed in the fourth. Each of the other carriages, eight in +all, held three or four of the family; behind them came the +doctor's brougham; then, at a decent interval, cabs containing +family clerks and servants; and at the very end, one containing +nobody at all, but bringing the total cortege up to the number of +thirteen. + +So long as the procession kept to the highway of the Bayswater +Road, it retained the foot's-pace, but, turning into less +important thorough-fares, it soon broke into a trot, and so +proceeded, with intervals of walking in the more fashionable +streets, until it arrived. In the first carriage old Jolyon and +Nicholas were talking of their wills. In the second the twins, +after a single attempt, had lapsed into complete silence; both +were rather deaf, and the exertion of making themselves heard was +too great. Only once James broke this silence: + +"I shall have to be looking about for some ground somewhere. +What arrangements have you made, Swithin?" + +And Swithin, fixing him with a dreadful stare, answered: + +"Don't talk to me about such things!" + +In the third carriage a disjointed conversation was carried on in +the intervals of looking out to see how far they had got, George +remarking, "Well, it was really time that the poor old lady +went." He didn't believe in people living beyond seventy, Young +Nicholas replied mildly that the rule didn't seem to apply to the +Forsytes. George said he himself intended to commit suicide at +sixty. Young Nicholas, smiling and stroking A long chin, didn't +think his father would like that theory; he had made a lot of +money since he was sixty. Well, seventy was the outside limit; +it was then time, George said, for them to go and leave their +money to their children. Soames, hitherto silent, here joined +in; he had not forgotten the remark about the 'undertaking,' and, +lifting his eyelids almost imperceptibly, said it was all very +well for people who never made money to talk. He himself +intended to live as long as he could. This was a hit at George, +who was notoriously hard up. Bosinney muttered abstractedly +"Hear, hear!" and, George yawning, the conversation dropped. + +Upon arriving, the coffin was borne into the chapel, and, two by +two, the mourners filed in behind it. This guard of men, all +attached to the dead by the bond of kinship, was an impressive +and singular sight in the great city of London, with its +overwhelming diversity of life, its innumerable vocations, +pleasures, duties, its terrible hardness, its terrible call to +individualism. + +The family had gathered to triumph over all this, to give a show +of tenacious unity, to illustrate gloriously that law of property +underlying the growth of their tree, by which it had thriven and +spread, trunk and branches, the sap flowing through all, the full +growth reached at the appointed time. The spirit of the old +woman lying in her last sleep had called them to this +demonstration. It was her final appeal to that unity which had +been their strength--it was her final triumph that she had died +while the tree was yet whole. + +She was spared the watching of the branches jut out beyond the +point of balance. She could not look into the hearts of her +followers. The same law that had worked in her, bringing her up +from a tall, straight-backed slip of a girl to, a woman strong +and grown, from a woman grown to a woman old, angular, feeble, +almost witchlike, with individuality all sharpened and sharpened, +as all rounding from the world's contact fell off from her--that +same law would work, was: working, in the family she had watched +like a mother. + +She had seen it young, and growing, she had, seen it strong and +grown, and before her old eyes had time or strength to see any +more, she died. She would have tried, and who knows but she +might have kept it young and strong, with her old fingers, her +trembling kisses--a little longer; alas! not even Aunt Ann could +fight with Nature. + +'Pride comes before a fall!' In accordance with this, the +greatest of Nature's ironies, the Forsyte family had gathered for +a last proud pageant before they fell. Their faces to right and +left, in single lines, were turned for the most part impassively +toward the ground, guardians of their thoughts; but here and +there, one looking upward, with a line between his brows, +searched to see some sight on the chapel walls too much for, him, +to be listening to something that appalled. And the, responses, +low-muttered, in voices through which rose the same tone, the +same unseizable family ring, sounded weird, as though murmured in +hurried duplication by a single person. + +The service in the chapel over, the mourners filed up again to +guard the body to the tomb. The vault stood open, and, round it, +men in black were waiting. + +>From that high and sacred field, where thousands of the upper +middle class lay in their last sleep, the eyes of the Forsytes +travelled down across the flocks of graves. There--spreading to +the distance, lay London, with no sun over it, mourning the loss +of its daughter, mourning with this family, so dear, the loss of +her who was mother and guardian. A hundred thousand spires and +houses, blurred in the great grey web of property, lay there like +prostrate worshippers before the grave of this, the oldest +Forsyte of them all. + +A few words, a sprinkle of earth, the thrusting of the coffin +home, and Aunt Ann had passed to her last rest. + +Round the vault, trustees of that passing, the five brothers +stood, with white heads bowed; they would see that Ann was +comfortable where she was. going. Her little property must stay +behind, but otherwise, all that could be should be done.... + +Then, severally, each stood aside, and putting on his hat, turned +back to inspect the new inscription on the marble of the family +vault: + + +SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ANN FORSYTE, +THE DAUGHTER OF THE ABOVE JOLYON +AND ANN FORSYTE, WHO DEPARTED +THIS LIFE THE 27TH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, +1886, AGED EIGHTY-SEVEN YEARS AND FOUR DAYS + + +Soon perhaps, someone else would be wanting an inscription. It +was strange and intolerable, for they had not thought somehow, +that Forsytes could die. And one and all they had a longing to +get away from this painfulness, this ceremony which had reminded +them of things they could not bear to think about--to get away +quickly and go about their business and forget. + +It was cold, too; the wind, like some slow, disintegrating force, +blowing up the hill over the graves, struck them with its chilly +breath; they began to split into groups, and as quickly as +possible to fill the waiting carriages. + +Swithin said he should go back to lunch at Timothy's, and he +offered to take anybody with him in his brougham. It was +considered a doubtful privilege to drive with Swithin in his +brougham, which was not a large one; nobody accepted, and he went +off alone. James and Roger followed immediately after; they also +would drop in to lunch. The others gradually melted away, Old +Jolyon taking three nephews to fill up his carriage; he had a +want of those young faces. + +Soames, who had to arrange some details in the cemetery office, +walked away with Bosinney. He had much to talk over with him, +and, having finished his business, they strolled to Hampstead, +lunched together at the Spaniard's Inn, and spent a long time in +going into practical details connected with the building of the +house; they then proceeded to the tram-line, and came as far as +the Marble Arch, where Bosinney went off to Stanhope Gate to see +June. + +Soames felt in excellent spirits when he arrived home, and +confided to Irene at dinner that he had had a good talk with +Bosinney, who really seemed a sensible fellow; they had had a +capital walk too, which had done his liver good--he had been +short of exercise for a long time--and altogether a very +satisfactory day. If only it hadn't been for poor Aunt Ann, he +would have taken her to the theatre; as it was, they must make +the best of an evening at home. + +"The Buccaneer asked after you more than once," he said +suddenly. And moved by some inexplicable desire to assert his +proprietorship, he rose from his chair and planted a kiss on +his wife's shoulder. + + + + + +PART II + + +CHAPTER I + +PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE + + +The winter had been an open one. Things in the trade were slack; +and as Soames had reflected before making up his mind, it had +been a good time for building. The shell of the house at Robin +Hill was thus completed by the end of April. + +Now that there was something to be seen for his money, he had +been coming down once, twice, even three times a week, and would +mouse about among the debris for hours, careful never to soil his +clothes, moving silently through the unfinished brickwork of +doorways, or circling round the columns in the central court. + +And he would stand before them for minutes' together, as though +peering into the real quality of their substance + +On April 30 he had an appointment with Bosinney to go over the +accounts, and five minutes before the proper time he entered the +tent which the architect had pitched for himself close to the old +oak tree. + +The Accounts were already prepared on a folding table, and with +a nod Soames sat down to study them. It was some time before he +raised his head. + +"I can't make them out," he said at last; "they come to nearly +seven hundred more than they ought" + +After a glance at Bosinney"s faces he went on quickly: + +"If you only make a firm stand against these builder chaps you'll +get them down. They stick you with everything if you don't look +sharp.... Take ten per cent. off all round. I shan't mind it's +coming out a hundred or so over the mark! + +Bosinney shook his head: + +I've taken off every farthing I can! + +Soames pushed back the table with a movement of anger, which sent +the account sheets fluttering to the ground. + +"Then all I can say is," he flustered out, "you've made a pretty +mess of it!" + +"I've told you a dozen times," Bosinney answered sharply, that +there'd be extras. I've pointed them out to you over and over +again!" + +I know that," growled Soames: "I shouldn't have objected to a ten +pound note here and there. How was I to know that by 'extras' +you meant seven hundred pounds?" + +The qualities of both men had contributed to this notinconsider- +able discrepancy. On the one hand, the architect's devotion +to his idea, to the image of a house which he had created and +believed in--had made him nervous of being stopped, or forced +to the use of makeshifts; on the other, Soames' not less true +and wholehearted devotion to the very best article that could be +obtained for the money, had rendered him averse to believing that +things worth thirteen shillings could not be bought with twelve. + +I wish I'd never undertaken your house," said Bosinney suddenly. +"You come down here worrying me out of my life. You want double +the value for your money anybody else would, and now that you've +got a house that for its size is not to be beaten in the county, +you don't want to pay for it. If you're anxious to be off your +bargain, I daresay I can find the balance above the estimates +myself, but I'm d----d if I do another stroke of work for you! + +Soames regained his composure. Knowing that Bosinney had no +capital, he regarded this as a wild suggestion. He saw, too, +that he would be kept indefinitely out of this house on which he +had set his heart, and just at the crucial point when the +architect's personal care made all the difference. In the +meantime there was Irene to be thought of! She had been very +queer lately. He really believed it was only because she had +taken to Bosinney that she tolerated the idea of the house at +all. It would not do to make an open breach with her. + +"You needn't get into a rage," he said. "If I'm willing to put +up with it, I suppose you needn't cry out. All I meant was that +when you tell me a thing is going to cost so much, I like to-- +well, in fact, I--like to know where I am." + +"Look here!" said Bosinney, and Soames was both annoyed and +surprised by the shrewdness of his glance. "You've got my +services dirt cheap. For the kind of work I've put into this +house, and the amount of time I've given to it, you'd have had to +pay Littlemaster or some other fool four times as much. What you +want, in fact, is a first-rate man for a fourth-rate fee, and +that's exactly what you've got!" + +Soames saw that he really meant what he said, and, angry though +he was, the consequences of a row rose before him too vividly. +He saw his house unfinished, his wife rebellious, himself a +laughingstock. + +"Let's go over it," he said sulkily, "and see how the money's +gone." + +"Very well," assented Bosinney. "But we'll hurry up, if you +don't mind. I have to get back in time to take June to the +theatre." + +Soames cast a stealthy look at him, and said: "Coming to our +place, I suppose to meet her?" He was always coming to their +place! + +There had been rain the night before-a spring rain, and the earth +smelt of sap and wild grasses. The warm, soft breeze swung the +leaves and the golden buds of the old oak tree, and in the +sunshine the blackbirds were whistling their hearts out. + +It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable +yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand +motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his +arms to embrace he knows not what. The earth gave forth a +fainting warmth, stealing up through the chilly garment in which +winter had wrapped her. It was her long caress of invitation, to +draw men down to lie within her arms, to roll their bodies on +her, and put their lips to her breast. + +On just such a day as this Soames had got from Irene the promise +he had asked her for so often. Seated on the fallen trunk of a +tree, he had promised for the twentieth time that if their +marriage were not a success, she should be as free as if she had +never married him! + +"Do you swear it?" she had said. A few days back she had +reminded him of that oath. He had answered: "Nonsense! I +couldn't have sworn any such thing!" By some awkward fatality he +remembered it now. What queer things men would swear for the +sake of women! He would have sworn it at any time to gain her! +He would swear it now, if thereby he could touch her--but nobody +could touch her, she was cold-hearted! + +And memories crowded on him with the fresh, sweet savour of the +spring wind-memories of his courtship. + +In the spring of the year 1881 he was visiting his old school- +fellow and client, George Liversedge, of Branksome, who, with +the view of developing his pine-woods in the neighbourhood of +Bournemouth, had placed the formation of the company necessary +to the scheme in Soames's hands. Mrs. Liversedge, with a sense +of the fitness of things, had given a musical tea in his honour. +Later in the course of this function, which Soames, no musician, +had regarded as an unmitigated bore, his eye had been caught by +the face of a girl dressed in mourning, standing by herself. The +lines of her tall, as yet rather thin figure, showed through the +wispy, clinging stuff of her black dress, her black-gloved hands +were crossed in front of her, her lips slightly parted, and her +large, dark eyes wandered from face to face. Her hair, done low +on her neck, seemed to gleam above her black collar like coils of +shining metal. And as Soames stood looking at her, the sensation +that most men have felt at one time or another went stealing +through him--a peculiar satisfaction of the senses, a peculiar +certainty, which novelists and old ladies call love at first +sight. Still stealthily watching her, he at once made his way to +his hostess, and stood doggedly waiting for the music to cease. + +"Who is that girl with yellow hair and dark eyes?" he asked. + +"That--oh! Irene Heron. Her father, Professor Heron, died this +year. She lives with her stepmother. She's a nice girl, a +pretty girl, but no money!" + +"Introduce me, please," said Soames. + +It was very little that he found to say, nor did he find her +responsive to that little. But he went away with the resolution +to see her again. He effected his object by chance, meeting her +on the pier with her stepmother, who had the habit of walking +there from twelve to one of a forenoon. Soames made this lady's +acquaintance with alacrity, nor was it long before he perceived +in her the ally he was looking for. His keen scent for the +commercial side of family life soon told him that Irene cost her +stepmother more than the fifty pounds a year she brought her; it +also told him that Mrs. Heron, a woman yet in the prime of life, +desired to be married again. The strange ripening beauty of her +stepdaughter stood in the way of this desirable consummation. +And Soames, in his stealthy tenacity, laid his plans. + +He left Bournemouth without having given, himself away, but in a +month's time came back, and this time he spoke, not to the girl, +but to her stepmother. He had made up his mind, he said; he +would wait any time. And he had long to wait, watching Irene +bloom, the lines of her young figure softening, the stronger +blood deepening the gleam of her eyes, and warming her face to a +creamy glow; and at each visit he proposed to her, and when that +visit was at an end, took her refusal away with him, back to +London, sore at heart, but steadfast and silent as the grave. He +tried to come at the secret springs of her resistance; only once +had he a gleam of light. It was at one of those assembly dances, +which afford the only outlet to the passions of the population of +seaside watering-places. He was sitting with her in an +embrasure, his senses tingling with the contact of the waltz. +She had looked at him over her, slowly waving fan; and he had +lost his head. Seizing that moving wrist, he pressed his lips to +the flesh of her arm. And she had shuddered--to this day he had +not forgotten that shudder--nor the look so passionately averse +she had given him. + +A year after that she had yielded. What had made her yield he +could never make out; and from Mrs. Heron, a woman of some +diplomatic talent, he learnt nothing. Once after they were +married he asked her, "What made you refuse me so often?" She had +answered by a strange silence. An enigma to him from the day +that he first saw her, she was an enigma to him still.... + +Bosinney was waiting for him at the door; and on his rugged, +good-looking, face was a queer, yearning, yet happy look, as +though he too saw a promise of bliss in the spring sky, sniffed a +coming happiness in the spring air. Soames looked at him waiting +there. What was the matter with the fellow that he looked so +happy? What was he waiting for with that smile on his lips and +in his eyes? Soames could not see that for which Bosinney was +waiting as he stood there drinking in the flower-scented wind. +And once more he felt baffled in the presence of this man whom by +habit he despised. He hastened on to the house. + +"The only colour for those tiles," he heard Bosinney say,--"is +ruby with a grey tint in the stuff, to give a transparent effect. +I should like Irene's opinion. I'm ordering the purple leather +curtains for the doorway of this court; and if you distemper the +drawing-room ivory cream over paper, you'll get an illusive look. +You want to aim all through the decorations at what I call +charm." + +Soames said: "You mean that my wife has charm!" + +Bosinney evaded the question. + +"You should have a clump of iris plants in the centre of that +court." + +Soames smiled superciliously. + +"I'll look into Beech's some time," he said, "and see what's +appropriate!" + +They, found little else to say to each other, but on the way to +the Station Soames asked: + +"I suppose you find Irene very artistic." + +"Yes." The abrupt answer was as distinct a snub as saying: "If +you want to discuss her you can do it with someone else!" + +And the slow, sulky anger Soames had felt all the afternoon +burned the brighter within him. + +Neither spoke again till they were close to the Station, then +Soames asked: + +"When do you expect to have finished?" + +"By the end of June, if you really wish me to decorate as well." + +Soames nodded. "But you quite understand,' he said, "that the +house is costing me a lot beyond what I contemplated. I may as +well tell you that I should have thrown it up, only I'm not in +the habit of giving up what I've set my mind on." + +Bosinney made no reply. And Soames gave him askance a look of +dogged dislike--for in spite of his fastidious air and that +supercilious, dandified taciturnity, Soames, with his set lips +and squared chin, was not unlike a bulldog.... + +When, at seven o'clock that evening, June arrived at 62, +Montpellier Square, the maid Bilson told her that Mr. Bosinney +was in the drawing-room; the mistress--she said--was dressing, +and would be down in a minute. She would tell her that Miss June +was here. + +June stopped her at once. + +"All right, Bilson," she said, "I'll just go in. You, needn't +hurry Mrs. Soames." + +She took off her cloak, and Bilson, with an understanding look, +did not even open the drawing-room door for her, but ran +downstairs. + +June paused for a moment to look at herself in the, little +old-fashioned silver mirror above the oaken rug chest--a slim, +imperious young figure, with a small resolute face, in a white +frock, cut moon-shaped at the base of a neck too slender for her +crown of twisted red-gold hair. + +She opened the drawing-room door softly, meaning to take him by +surprise. The room was filled with a sweet hot scent of +flowering azaleas. + +She took a long breath of the perfume, and heard Bosinney's +voice, not in the room, but quite close, saying. + +"Ah! there were such heaps of things I wanted to talk about, and +now we shan't have time!" + +Irene's voice answered: "Why not at dinner?" + +"How can one talk...." + +June's first thought was to go away, but instead she crossed to +the long window opening on the little court. It was from there +that the scent of the azaleas came, and, standing with their +backs to her, their faces buried in the goldenpink blossoms, +stood her lover and Irene. + +Silent but unashamed, with flaming cheeks and angry eyes, the +girl watched. + +"Come on Sunday by yourself--We can go over the house together." + +June saw Irene look up at him through her screen of blossoms. It +was not the look of a coquette, but--far worse to the watching +girl--of a woman fearful lest that look should say too much. + +"I've promised to go for a drive with Uncle...." + +"The big one! Make him bring you; it's only ten miles--the very +thing for his horses." + +"Poor old Uncle Swithin!" + +A wave of the azalea scent drifted into June's face; she felt +sick and dizzy. + +"Do! ah! do!" + +"But why?" + +"I must see you there--I thought you'd like to help me...." + +The answer seemed to the girl to come softly with a tremble from +amongst the blossoms: "So I do!" + +And she stepped into the open space of the window. + +"How stuffy it is here!" she said; "I can't bear this scent!" + +Her eyes, so angry and direct, swept both their faces. + +"Were you talking about the house? I haven't seen it yet, you +know--shall we all go on Sunday?"' + +>From Irene's face the colour had flown. + +"I am going for a drive that day with Uncle Swithin," she +answered. + +"Uncle Swithin! What does he matter? You can throw him over!" + +"I am not in the habit of throwing people over!" + +There was a sound of footsteps and June saw Soames standing just +behind her. + +"Well! if you are all ready," said Irene, looking from one to +the other with a strange smile, "dinner is too!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JUNE'S TREAT + + +Dinner began in silence; the women facing one another, and the +men. + +In silence the soup, was finished--excellent, if a little thick; +and fish was brought. In silence it was handed. + +Bosinney ventured: "It's the first spring day." + +Irene echoed softly: Yes--the first spring day. + +"Spring!" said June: "there isn't a breath of air!" No one +replied. + +The fish was taken away, a fine fresh sole from Dover. And +Bilson brought champagne, a bottle swathed around the neck with +white.... + +Soames said: "You'll find it dry." + +Cutlets were handed, each pink-frilled about the legs. They were +refused by June, and silence fell. + +Soames said: "You'd better take a cutlet, June; there's nothing +coming." + +But June again refused, so they were borne away. And then Irene +asked: "Phil, have you heard my blackbird?" + +Bosinney answered: "Rather--he's got a hunting-song. As I came +round I heard him in the Square." + +"He's such a darling!" + +"Salad, sir?" Spring chicken was removed. + +But Soames was speaking: "The asparagus is very poor. Bosinney, +glass of sherry with your sweet? June, you're drinking nothing!" + +June said: "You know I never do. Wine's such horrid stuff!" + +An apple charlotte came upon a silver dish, And smilingly Irene +said: "The azaleas are so wonderful this year!" + +To this Bosinney murmured: "Wonderful! The scent's +extraordinary!" + +June said: "How can you like the scent? Sugar, please, Bilson.' + +Sugar was handed her, and Soames remarked: "'This charlottes +good!" + +The charlotte was removed. Long silence followed. Irene, +beckoning, said: "Take out the azalea, Bilson. Miss June can't +bear the scent." + +"No; let it stay," said June. + +Olives from France, with Russian caviare, were placed on little +plates. And Soames remarked: "Why can't we have the Spanish? +But no one answered. + +The olives were removed. Lifting her tumbler June demanded: +"Give me some water, please." Water was given her. A silver tray +was brought, with German plums. There was a lengthy pause. In +perfect harmony all were eating them. + +Bosinney counted up the stones: "This year--next year--some time." + +Irene finished softly: "Never! There was such a glorious sunset. +The sky's all ruby still--so beautiful!" + +He answered: "Underneath the dark." + +Their eyes had met, and June cried scornfully: "A London sunset!" + +Egyptian cigarettes were handed in a silver box. Soames, taking +one, remarked: "What time's your play begin?" + +No one replied, and Turkish coffee followed in enamelled cups. + +Irene, smiling quietly, said: "If only...." + +"Only what?" said June. + +"If only it could always be the spring!" + +Brandy was handed; it was pale and old. + +Soames said: "Bosinney, better take some brandy." + +Bosinney took a glass; they all arose. + +"You want a cab?" asked Soames. + +June answered: "No! My cloaks Please, Bilson." Her cloak was +brought. + +Irene, from the window, murmured: "Such a lovely night! The +stars are coming out!" + +Soames added: "Well, I hope you'll both enjoy yourselves." + +>From the door June answered: "Thanks. Come, Phil." + +Bosinney cried: "I'm coming." + +Soames smiled a sneering smile, and said: "I wish you luck!" + +And at the door Irene watched them go. + +Bosinney called: "Good night!" + +"Good night!" she answered softly.... + +June made her lover take her on the top of a 'bus, saying she +wanted air, and there sat silent, with her face to the breeze. + +The driver turned once or twice, with the intention of venturing +a remark, but thought better of it. They were a lively couple! +The spring had got into his blood, too; he felt the need for +letting steam escape, and clucked his tongue, flourishing his +whip, wheeling his horses, and even they, poor things, had +smelled the spring, and for a brief half-hour spurned the +pavement with happy hoofs. + +The whole town was alive; the boughs, curled upward with their +decking of young leaves, awaited some gift the breeze could +bring. New-lighted lamps were gaining mastery, and the faces of +the crowd showed pale under that glare, while on high the great +white clouds slid swiftly, softly, over the purple sky. + +Men in, evening dress had thrown back overcoats, stepping +jauntily up the steps of Clubs; working folk loitered; and women- +-those women who at that time of night are solitary--solitary and +moving eastward in a stream--swung slowly along, with expectation +in their gait, dreaming of good wine and a good supper, or--for +an unwonted minute, of kisses given for love. + +Those countless figures, going their ways under the lamps and the +moving-sky, had one and all received some restless blessing from +the stir of spring. And one and all, like those clubmen with +their opened coats, had shed something of caste, and creed, and +custom, and by the cock of their hats, the pace of their walk, +their laughter, or their silence, revealed their common kinship +under the passionate heavens. + +Bosinney and June entered the theatre in silence, and mounted to +their seats in the upper boxes. The piece had just begun, and +the half-darkened house, with its rows of creatures peering all +one way, resembled a great garden of flowers turning their faces +to the sun. + +June had never before been in the upper boxes. From the age of +fifteen she had habitually accompanied her grandfather to the +stalls, and not common stalls, but the best seats in the house, +towards the centre of the third row, booked by old Jolyon, at +Grogan and Boyne's, on his way home from the City, long before +the day; carried in his overcoat pocket, together with his +cigarcase and his old kid gloves, and handed to June to keep till +the appointed night. And in those stalls--an erect old figure +with a serene white head, a little figure, strenuous and eager, +with a red-gold head--they would sit through every kind of play, +and on the way home old Jolyon would say of the principal actor: +"Oh, he's a poor stick! You should have seen little Bobson!" + +She had looked forward to this evening with keen delight; it was +stolen, chaperone-less, undreamed of at Stanhope Gate, where she +was supposed to be at Soames'. She had expected reward for her +subterfuge, planned for her lover's sake; she had expected it to +break up the thick, chilly cloud, and make the relations between +them which of late had been so puzzling, so tormenting--sunny and +simple again as they had been before the winter. She had come +with the intention of saying something definite; and she looked +at the stage with a furrow between her brows, seeing nothing, her +hands squeezed together in her lap. A swarm of jealous +suspicions stung and stung her. + +If Bosinney was conscious of her trouble he made no sign. + +The curtain dropped. The first act had come to an end. + +"It's awfully hot here!" said the girl; "I should like to go +out." + +She was very white, and she knew--for with her nerves thus +sharpened she saw everything--that he was both uneasy and +compunctious. + +At the back of the theatre an open balcony hung over the street; +she took possession of this, and stood leaning there without a +word, waiting for him to begin. + +At last she could bear it no longer. + +"I want to say something to you, Phil," she said. + +"Yes?" + +The defensive tone of his voice brought the colour flying to her +cheek, the words flying to her lips: "You don't give me a chance +to be nice to you; you haven't for ages now!" + +Bosinney stared down at the street. He made no answer.... + +June cried passionately: "You know I want to do everything for +you--that I want to be everything to you...." + +A hum rose from the--street, and, piercing it with a sharp +'ping,' the bell sounded for the raising of the curtain, June did +not stir. A desperate struggle was going on within her. Should +she put everything to the proof? Should she challenge directly +that influence, that attraction which was driving him away from +her? It was her nature to challenge, and she said: "Phil, take +me to see the house on Sunday!" + +With a smile quivering and breaking on her lips, and trying, how +hard, not to show that she was watching, she searched his face, +saw it waver and hesitate, saw a troubled line come between his +brows, the blood rush into his face. He answered: "Not Sunday, +dear; some other day!" + +"Why not Sunday? I shouldn't be in the way on Sunday." + +He made an evident effort, and said: I have an engagement." + +"You are going to take...." + +His eyes grew angry; he shrugged his shoulders, and answered: "An +engagement that will prevent my taking you to see the house!" + +June bit her lip till the blood came, and walked back to her seat +without another word, but she could not help the tears of rage +rolling down her face. The house had been mercifully darkened +for a crisis, and no one could see her trouble. + +Yet in this world of Forsytes let no man think himself immune +from observation. + +In the third row behind, Euphemia, Nicholas's youngest daughter, +with her married-sister, Mrs. Tweetyman, were watching. + +They reported at Timothy's, how they had seen June and her fiance +at the theatre. + +"In the stalls?" "No, not in the...." "Oh! in the dress +circle, of course. That seemed to be quite fashionable nowadays +with young people!" + +Well--not exactly. In the.... Anyway, that engagement wouldn't +last long. They had never seen anyone look so thunder and +lightningy as that little June! With tears of enjoyment in their +eyes, they related how she had kicked a man's hat as she returned +to her seat in the middle of an act, and how the man had looked. +Euphemia had a noted, silent laugh, terminating most disappoint- +ingly in squeaks; and when Mrs. Small, holding up her hands, said: +"My dear! Kicked a ha-at?" she let out such anumber of these that +she had to be recovered with smelling-salts. As she went away +she said to Mrs. Tweetyman: + +"Kicked a--ha-at! Oh! I shall die." + +For 'that little June' this evening, that was to have been 'her +treat,' was the most miserable she had ever spent. God knows she +tried to stifle her pride, her suspicion, her jealousy! + +She parted from Bosinney at old Jolyon's door without breaking +down; the feeling that her lover must be conquered was strong +enough to sustain her till his retiring footsteps brought home +the true extent of her wretchedness. + +The noiseless 'Sankey' let her in. She would have slipped up to +her own room, but old Jolyon, who had heard her entrance, was in +the dining-room doorway. + +"Come in and have your milk," he said. "It's been kept hot for +you. You're very late. Where have you been?" + +June stood at the fireplace, with a foot on the fender and an arm +on the mantelpiece, as her grandfather had done when he came in +that night of the opera. She was too near a breakdown, to care +what she told him. + +"We dined at Soames's." + +"H'm! the man of property! His wife there and Bosinney?" + +"Yes." + +Old Jolyon's glance was fixed on her with the penetrating gaze +from which it was difficult to hide; but she was not looking at +him, and when she turned her face, he dropped his scrutiny at +once. He had seen enough, and too much. He bent down to lift +the cup of milk for her from the hearth, and, turning away, +grumbled: "You oughtn't to stay out so late; it makes you fit for +nothing." + +He was invisible now behind his paper, which he turned with a +vicious crackle; but when June came up to kiss him, he said: +"Good-night, my darling," in a tone so tremulous and unexpected, +that it was all the girl could do to get out of the room without +breaking into the fit of sobbing which lasted her well on into +the night. + +When the door was closed, old Jolyon dropped his paper, and +stared long and anxiously in front of him. + +'The beggar!' he thought. 'I always knew she'd have trouble with +him!' + +Uneasy doubts and suspicions, the more poignant that he felt +himself powerless to check or control the march of events, came +crowding upon him. + +Was the fellow going to jilt her? He longed to go and say to +him: "Look here, you sir! Are you going to jilt my grand- +daughter?" But how could he? Knowing little or nothing, he +was yet certain, with his unerring astuteness, that there was +something going on. He suspected Bosinney of being too much at +Montpellier Square. + +'This fellow,' he thought, 'may not be a scamp; his face is not a +bad one, but he's a queer fish. I don't know what to make of +him. I shall never know what to make of him! They tell me he +works like a nigger, but I see no good coming of it. He's +unpractical, he has no method. When he comes here, he sits as +glum as a monkey. If I ask him what wine he'll have, he says: +"Thanks, any wine." If I offer him a cigar, he smokes it as if it +were a twopenny German thing. I never see him looking at June as +he ought to look at her; and yet, he's not after her money. If +she were to make a sign, he'd be off his bargain to-morrow. But +she won't--not she! She'll stick to him! She's as obstinate as +fate--Sh'ell never let go!' + +Sighing deeply, he turned the paper; in its columns, perchance he +might find consolation. + +And upstairs in her room June sat at her open window, where the +spring wind came, after its revel across the Park, to cool her +hot cheeks and burn her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DRIVE WITH SWITHIN + + +Two lines of a certain song in a certain famous old school's +songbook run as follows: + +'How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la! +How he carolled and he sang, like a bird!....' + +Swithin did not exactly carol and sing like a bird, but he felt +almost like endeavouring to hum a tune, as he stepped out of Hyde +Park Mansions, and contemplated his horses drawn up before the +door. + +The afternoon was as balmy as a day in June, and to complete the +simile of the old song, he had put on a blue frock-coat, +dispensing with an overcoat, after sending Adolf down three times +to make sure that there was not the least suspicion of east in +the wind; and the frock-coat was buttoned so tightly around his +personable form, that, if the buttons did not shine, they might +pardonably have done so. Majestic on the pavement he fitted on a +pair of dog-skin gloves; with his large bell-shaped top hat, and +his great stature and bulk he looked too primeval for a Forsyte. +His thick white hair, on which Adolf had bestowed a touch of +pomatum, exhaled the fragrance of opoponax and cigars--the +celebrated Swithin brand, for which he paid one hundred and, +forty shillings the hundred, and of which old Jolyon had unkindly +said, he wouldn't smoke them as a gift; they wanted the stomach +of a horse! + +"Adolf!" + +"Sare!" + +"The new plaid rug! + +He would never teach that fellow to look smart; and Mrs. Soames +he felt sure, had an eye! + +"The phaeton hood down; I am going--to--drive--a--lady!" + +A pretty woman would want to show off her frock; and well--he was +going to drive a lady! It was like a new beginning to the good +old days. + +Ages since he had driven a woman! The last time, if he +remembered, it had been Juley; the poor old soul had been as +nervous as a cat the whole time, and so put him out of patience +that, as he dropped her in the Bayswater Road, he had said: "Well +I'm d---d if I ever drive you again!" And he never had, not he! + +Going up to his horses' heads, he examined their bits; not that +he knew anything about bits--he didn't pay his coachman sixty +pounds a year to do his work for him, that had never been his +principle. Indeed, his reputation as a horsey man rested mainly +on the fact that once, on Derby Day, he had been welshed by some +thimble-riggers. But someone at the Club, after seeing him drive +his greys up to the door--he always drove grey horses, you got +more style for the money, some thought--had called him 'Four- +in-hand Forsyte.' The name having reached his ears through that +fellow Nicholas Treffry, old Jolyon's dead partner, the great +driving man notorious for more carriage accidents than any man in +the kingdom--Swithin had ever after conceived it right to act up +to it. The name had taken his fancy, not because he had ever +driven four-in-hand, or was ever likely to, but because of +something distinguished in the sound. Four-in-hand Forsyte! Not +bad! Born too soon, Swithin had missed his vocation. Coming +upon London twenty years later, he could not have failed to have +become a stockbroker, but at the time when he was obliged to +select, this great profession had not as yet became the chief +glory of the upper-middle class. He had literally been forced +into land agency. + +Once in the driving seat, with the reins handed to him, and +blinking over his pale old cheeks in the full sunlight, he took a +slow look round--Adolf was already up behind; the cockaded groom +at the horses' heads stood ready to let go; everything was +prepared for the signal, and Swithin gave it. The equipage +dashed forward, and before you could say Jack Robinson, with a +rattle and flourish drew up at Soames' door. + +Irene came out at once, and stepped in--he afterward described it +at Timothy's--"as light as--er--Taglioni, no fuss about it, no +wanting this or wanting that;" and above all, Swithin dwelt on +this, staring at Mrs. Septimus in a way that disconcerted her a +good deal, "no silly nervousness!" To Aunt Hester he portrayed +Irene's hat. "Not one of your great flopping things, sprawling +about, and catching the dust, that women are so fond of nowadays, +but a neat little--"he made a circular motion of his hand, "white +veil--capital taste." + +"What was it made of?" inquired Aunt Hester, who manifested a +languid but permanent excitement at any mention of dress. + +"Made of?" returned Swithin; "now how should I know?" + +He sank into silence so profound that Aunt Hester began to be +afraid he had fallen into a trance. She did not try to rouse him +herself, it not being her custom. + +'I wish somebody would come,' she thought; 'I don't like the look +of him!' + +But suddenly Swithin returned to life. "Made of" he wheezed out +slowly, "what should it be made of?" + +They had not gone four miles before Swithin received the +impression that Irene liked driving with him. Her face was so +soft behind that white veil, and her dark eyes shone so in the +spring light, and whenever he spoke she raised them to him and +smiled. + +On Saturday morning Soames had found her at her writing-table +with a note written to Swithin, putting him off. Why did she +want to put him off? he asked. She might put her own people off +when she liked, he would not have her putting off his people! + +She had looked at him intently, had torn up the note, and said: +"Very well!" + +And then she began writing another. He took a casual glance +presently, and saw that it was addressed to Bosinney. + +"What are you writing to him about?" he asked. + +Irene, looking at him again with that intent look, said quietly: +"Something he wanted me to do for him!" + +"Humph!" said Soames,--"Commissions!" + +"You'll have your work cut out if you begin that sort of thing!" +He said no more. + +Swithin opened his eyes at the mention of Robin Hill; it was a +long way for his horses, and he always dined at half-past seven, +before the rush at the Club began; the new chef took more trouble +with an early dinner--a lazy rascal! + +He would like to have a look at the house, however. A house +appealed to any Forsyte, and especially to one who had been an +auctioneer. After all he said the distance was nothing. When he +was a younger man he had had rooms at Richmond for many years, +kept his carriage and pair there, and drove them up and down to +business every day of his life. + +Four-in-hand Forsyte they called him! His T-cart, his horses had +been known from Hyde Park Corner to the Star and Garter. The +Duke of Z.... wanted to get hold of them, would have given him +double the money, but he had kept them; know a good thing when +you have it, eh? A look of solemn pride came portentously on his +shaven square old face, he rolled his head in his stand-up +collar, like a turkey-cock preening himself. + +She was really--a charming woman! He enlarged upon her frock +afterwards to Aunt Juley, who held up her hands at his way of +putting it. + +Fitted her like a skin--tight as a drum; that was how he liked +'em, all of a piece, none of your daverdy, scarecrow women! He +gazed at Mrs. Septimus Small, who took after James--long and +thin. + +"There's style about her," he went on, "fit for a king! And +she's so quiet with it too!" + +"She seems to have made quite a conquest of you, any way," +drawled Aunt Hester from her corner. + +Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him. + +"What's that?" he said. "I know a--pretty--woman when I see one, +and all I can say is, I don't see the young man about that's fit +for her; but perhaps--you--do, come, perhaps--you -do!" + +"Oh?" murmured Aunt Hester, "ask Juley!" + +Long before they reached Robin Hill, however, the unaccustomed +airing had made him terribly sleepy; he drove with his eyes +closed, a life-time of deportment alone keeping his tall and +bulky form from falling askew. + +Bosinney, who was watching, came out to meet them, and all three +entered the house together; Swithin in front making play with a +stout gold-mounted Malacca cane, put into his hand by Adolf, for +his knees were feeling the effects of their long stay in the same +position. He had assumed his fur coat, to guard against the +draughts of the unfinished house. + +The staircase--he said--was handsome! the baronial style! They +would want some statuary about! He came to a standstill between +the columns of the doorway into the inner court, and held out his +cane inquiringly. + +What was this to be--this vestibule, or whatever they called it? +But gazing at the skylight, inspiration came to him. + +"Ah! the billiard-room!" + +When told it was to be a tiled court with plants in the centre, +he turned to Irene: + +"Waste this on plants? You take my advice and have a billiard +table here!" + +Irene smiled. She had lifted her veil, banding it like a nun's +coif across her forehead, and the smile of her dark eyes below +this seemed to Swithin more charming than ever. He nodded. She +would take his advice he saw. + +He had little to say of the drawing or dining-rooms, which he +described as 'spacious"; but fell into such raptures as he +permitted to a man of his dignity, in the wine-cellar, to which +he descended by stone steps, Bosinney going first with a light. + +"You'll have room here," he said, "for six or seven hundred. +dozen--a very pooty little cellar!" + +Bosinney having expressed the wish to show them the house from +the copse below, Swithin came to a stop. + +"There's a fine view from here," he remarked; "you haven't such a +thing as a chair?" + +A chair was brought him from Bosinney's tent. + +"You go down," he said blandly; "you two! I'll sit here and look +at the view." + +He sat down by the oak tree, in the sun; square and upright, with +one hand stretched out, resting on the nob of his cane, the other +planted on his knee; his fur coat thrown open, his hat, roofing +with its flat top the pale square of his face; his stare, very +blank, fixed on the landscape. + +He nodded to them as they went, off down through the fields. He +was, indeed, not sorry to be left thus for a quiet moment of +reflection. The air was balmy, not too much heat in the sun; the +prospect a fine one, a remarka.... His head fell a little to one +side; he jerked it up and thought: Odd! He--ah! They were +waving to him from the bottom! He put up his hand, and moved it +more than once. They were active--the prospect was remar.... +His head fell to the left, he jerked it up at once; it fell to +the right. It remained there; he was asleep. + +And asleep, a sentinel on the--top of the rise, he appeared to +rule over this prospect--remarkable--like some image blocked out +by the special artist, of primeval Forsytes in pagan days, to +record the domination of mind over matter! + +And all the unnumbered generations of his yeoman ancestors, wont +of a Sunday to stand akimbo surveying their little plots of land, +their grey unmoving eyes hiding their instinct with its hidden +roots of violence, their instinct for possession to the exclusion +of all the world--all these unnumbered generations seemed to sit +there with him on the top of the rise. + +But from him, thus slumbering, his jealous Forsyte spirit +travelled far, into God-knows-what jungle of fancies; with those +two young people, to see what they were doing down there in the +copse--in the copse where the spring was running riot with the +scent of sap and bursting buds, the song of birds innumerable, a +carpet of bluebells and sweet growing things, and the sun caught +like gold in the tops of the trees; to see what they were doing, +walking along there so close together on the path that was too +narrow; walking along there so close that they were always +touching; to watch Irene's eyes, like dark thieves, stealing the +heart out of the spring. And a great unseen chaperon, his spirit +was there, stopping with them to look at the little furry corpse +of a mole, not dead an hour, with his mushroom--and silver coat +untouched by the rain or dew; watching over Irene's bent head, +and the soft look of her pitying eyes; and over that young man's +head, gazing at her so hard, so strangely. Walking on with them, +too, across the open space where a wood-cutter had been at work, +where the bluebells were trampled down, and a trunk had swayed +and staggered down from its gashed stump. Climbing it with them, +over, and on to the very edge of the copse, whence there +stretched an undiscovered country, from far away in which came +the sounds, 'Cuckoo-cuckoo!' + +Silent, standing with them there, and uneasy at their silence! +Very queer, very strange! + +Then back again, as though guilty, through the wood--back to the +cutting, still silent, amongst the songs of birds that never +ceased, and the wild scent--hum! what was it--like that herb +they put in--back to the log across the path.... + +And then unseen, uneasy, flapping above them, trying to make +noises, his Forsyte spirit watched her balanced on the log, her +pretty figure swaying, smiling down at that young man gazing up +with such strange, shining eyes, slipping now--a--ah! falling, +o--oh! sliding--down his breast; her soft, warm body clutched, +her head bent back from his lips; his kiss; her recoil; his cry: +"You must know--I love you!" Must know--indeed, a pretty...? +Love! Hah! + +Swithin awoke; virtue had gone out of him. He had a taste in his +mouth. Where was he? + +Damme! He had been asleep! + +He had dreamed something about a new soup, with a taste of mint +in it. + +Those young people--where had they got to? His left leg had pins +and needles. + +"Adolf!" The rascal was not there; the rascal was asleep +somewhere. + +He stood up, tall, square, bulky in his fur, looking anxiously +down over the fields, and presently he saw them coming. + +Irene was in front; that young fellow--what had they nicknamed +him--'The Buccaneer?' looked precious hangdog there behind her; +had got a flea in his ear, he shouldn't wonder. Serve him right, +taking her down all that way to look at the house! The proper +place to look at a house from was the lawn. + +They saw him. He extended his arm, and moved it spasmodically to +encourage them. But they had stopped. What were they standing +there for, talking--talking? They came on again. She had been, +giving him a rub, he had not the least doubt of it, and no +wonder, over a house like that--a great ugly thing, not the sort +of house be was accustomed to. + +He looked intently at their faces, with his pale, immovable +stare. That young man looked very queer! + +"You'll never make anything of this!" he said tartly, pointing at +the mansion;--"too newfangled!" + +Bosinney gazed at him as though he had not heard; and Swithin +afterwards described him to, Aunt Hester as "an extravagant sort +of fellow very odd way of looking at you--a bumpy beggar!" + +What gave rise to this sudden piece of psychology he did not +state; possibly Bosinney's, prominent forehead and cheekbones and +chin, or something hungry in his face, which quarrelled with +Swithin's conception of the calm satiety that should characterize +the perfect gentleman. + +He brightened up at the mention of tea. He had a contempt for +tea--his brother Jolyon had been in tea; made a lot of money by +it--but he was so thirsty, and had such a taste in his mouth, +that he was prepared to drink anything. He longed to inform +Irene of the taste in his mouth--she was so sympathetic--but it +would not be a, distinguished thing to do; he rolled his tongue +round, and faintly smacked it against his palate. + +In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like +moustaches over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of +a pint-bottle of champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at +Bosinney, said: "Why, you're quite a Monte Cristo!" This +celebrated novel--one of the half-dozen he had read--had produced +an extraordinary impression on his mind. + +Taking his glass from the table, he held it away from him to +scrutinize the colour; thirsty as he was, it was not likely that +he was going to drink trash! Then, placing it to his lips, he +took a sip. + +"A very nice wine," he said at last, passing it before his nose; +"not the equal of my Heidsieck!" + +It was at this moment that the idea came to him which he +afterwards imparted at Timothy's in this nutshell: "I shouldn't +wonder a bit if that architect chap were sweet upon Mrs. Soames!" + +And from this moment his pale, round eyes never ceased to bulge +with the interest of his discovery. + +"The fellow," he said to Mrs. Septimus, "follows her about with +his eyes like a dog--the bumpy beggar! I don't wonder at it-- +she's a very charming woman, and, I should say, the pink of +discretion!" A vague consciousness of, perfume caging about +Irene, like that from a flower with half-closed petals and a +passionate heart, moved him to the creation of this image. "But +I wasn't sure of it," he said, "till I saw him pick up her +handkerchief." + +Mrs. Small's eyes boiled with excitement. + +"And did he give it her back?" she asked. + +"Give it back?" said Swithin: "I saw him slobber on it when he +thought I wasn't looking! + +Mrs. Small gasped--too interested to speak. + +"But she gave him no encouragement," went on Swithin; he stopped, +and stared for a minute or two in the way that alarmed Aunt +Hester so--he had suddenly recollected that, as they were +starting back in the-phaeton, she had given Bosinney her hand a +second time, and let it stay there too.... He had touched his +horses smartly with the whip, anxious to get her all to himself. +But she had looked back, and she had not answered his first +question; neither had he been able to see her face--she had kept +it hanging down. + +There is somewhere a picture, which Swithin has not seen, of a +man sitting on a rock, and by him, immersed in the still, green +water, a sea-nymph lying on her back, with her hand on her naked +breast. She has a half-smile on her face--a smile of hopeless +surrender and of secret joy. + +Seated by Swithin's side, Irene may have been smiling like that. + +When, warmed by champagne, he had her all to himself, he +unbosomed himself of his wrongs; of his smothered resentment +against the new chef at the club; his worry over the house in +Wigmore Street, where the rascally tenant had gone bankrupt +through helping his brother-in-law as if charity did not begin at +home; of his deafness, too, and that pain he sometimes got in his +right side. She listened, her eyes swimming under their lids. +He thought she was thinking deeply of his troubles, and pitied +himself terribly. Yet in his fur coat, with frogs across the +breast, his top hat aslant, driving this beautiful woman, he had +never felt more distinguished. + +A coster, however, taking his girl for a Sunday airing, seemed to +have the same impression about himself. This person had flogged +his donkey into a gallop alongside, and sat, upright as a +waxwork, in his shallopy chariot, his chin settled pompously on a +red handkerchief, like Swithin's on his full cravat; while his +girl, with the ends of a fly-blown boa floating out behind, aped +a woman of fashion. Her swain moved a stick with a ragged bit of +string dangling from the end, reproducing with strange fidelity +the circular flourish of Swithin's whip, and rolled his head at +his lady with a leer that had a weird likeness to Swithin's +primeval stare. + +Though for a time unconscious of the lowly ruffian's presence, +Swithin presently took it into his head that he was being guyed. +He laid his whip-lash across the mares flank. The two chariots, +however, by some unfortunate fatality continued abreast. +Swithin's yellow, puffy face grew red; he raised his whip to lash +the costermonger, but was saved from so far forgetting his +dignity by a special intervention of Providence. A carriage +driving out through a gate forced phaeton and donkey-cart into +proximity; the wheels grated, the lighter vehicle skidded, and +was overturned. + +Swithin did not look round. On no account would he have pulled +up to help the ruffian. Serve him right if he had broken his +neck! + +But he could not if he would. The greys had taken alarm. The +phaeton swung from side to side, and people raised frightened +faces as they went dashing past. Swithin's great arms, stretched +at full length, tugged at the reins. His cheeks were puffed, his +lips compressed, his swollen face was of a dull, angry red. + +Irene had her hand on the rail, and at every lurch she gripped it +tightly. Swithin heard her ask: + +"Are we going to have an accident, Uncle Swithin?" + +He gasped out between his pants: "It's nothing; a--little fresh!" + +"I've never been in an accident." + +Don't you move!" He took a look at--her. She was smiling, +perfectly calm. "Sit still," he repeated. "Never fear, I'll get +you home!" + +And in the midst of all his terrible efforts, he was surprised to +hear her answer in a voice not like her own: + +"I don't care if I never get home!" + +The carriage giving a terrific lurch, Swithin's exclamation was +jerked back into his throat. The horses, winded by the rise of a +hill, now steadied to a trot, and finally stopped of their own +accord. + +"When"--Swithin described it at Timothy's--"I pulled 'em up, +there she was as cool as myself. God bless my soul! she behaved +as if she didn't care whether she broke her neck or not! What +was it she said: 'I don't care if I never get home?" Leaning over +the handle of his cane, he wheezed out, to Mrs. Small's terror: +"And I'm not altogether surprised, with a finickin' feller like +young Soames for a husband!" + +It did not occur to him to wonder what Bosinney had done after +they had left him there alone; whether he had gone wandering +about like the dog to which Swithin had compared him; wandering +down to that copse where the spring was still in riot, the cuckoo +still calling from afar; gone down there with her handkerchief +pressed to lips, its fragrance mingling with the scent of mint +and thyme. Gone down there with such a wild, exquisite pain in +his heart that he could have cried out among the trees. Or what, +indeed, the fellow had done. In fact, till he came to Timothy's, +Swithin had forgotten all about him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JAMES GOES TO SEE FOR HIMSELF + + +Those ignorant of Forsyte 'Change would not, perhaps, foresee all +the stir made by Irene's visit to the house. + +After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his +memorable drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, +the merest touch of malice, and a real desire to do good, was +passed on to June. + +"And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; +"that about not going home. What did she mean?" + +It was a strange recital for the girl. She heard it flushing +painfully, and, suddenly, with a curt handshake, took her +departure. + +"Almost rude!" Mrs. Small said to Aunt Hester, when June was +gone. + +The proper construction was put on her reception of the news. +She was upset. Something was therefore very wrong. Odd! She +and Irene had been such friends! + +It all tallied too well with whispers and hints that had been +going about for some time past. Recollections of Euphemia's +account of the visit to the theatre--Mr. Bosinney always at +Soames's? Oh, indeed! Yes, of course, he would be about the +house! Nothing open. Only upon the greatest, the most important +provocation was it necessary to say anything open on Forsyte +'Change. This machine was too nicely adjusted; a hint, the +merest trifling expression of regret or doubt, sufficed to set +the family soul so sympathetic--vibrating. No one desired that +harm should come of these vibrations--far from it; they were set +in motion with the best intentions, with the feeling, that each +member of the family had a stake in the family soul. + +And much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip; it would +frequently result in visits of condolence being made, in +accordance with the customs of Society, thereby conferring a real +benefit upon the sufferers, and affording consolation to the +sound, who felt pleasantly that someone at all events was +suffering from that from which they themselves were not +suffering. In fact, it was simply a desire to keep things +well-aired, the desire which animates the Public Press, that +brought James, for instance, into communication with Mrs. +Septimus, Mrs. Septimus, with the little Nicholases, the little +Nicholases with who-knows-whom, and so on. That great class to +which they had risen, and now belonged, demanded a certain +candour, a still more certain reticence. This combination +guaranteed their membership. + +Many of the younger Forsytes felt, very naturally, and would +openly declare, that they did not want their affairs pried into; +but so powerful was the invisible, magnetic current of family +gossip, that for the life of them they could not help knowing all +about everything. It was felt to be hopeless. + +One of them (young Roger) had made an heroic attempt to free the +rising generation, by speaking of Timothy as an 'old cat.' The +effort had justly recoiled upon himself; the words, coming round +in the most delicate way to Aunt Juley's ears, were repeated by +her in a shocked voice to Mrs. Roger, whence they returned again +to young Roger. + +And, after all, it was only the wrong-doers who suffered; as, for +instance, George, when he lost all that money playing billiards; +or young Roger himself, when he was so dreadfully near to +marrying the girl to whom, it was whispered, he was already +married by the laws of Nature; or again Irene, who was thought, +rather than said, to be in danger. + +All this was not only pleasant but salutary. And it made so many +hours go lightly at Timothy's in the Bayswater Road; so many +hours that must otherwise have been sterile and heavy to those +three who lived there; and Timothy's was but one of hundreds of +such homes in this City of London--the homes of neutral persons +of the secure classes, who are out of the battle themselves, and +must find their reason for existing, in the battles of others. + +But for the sweetness of family gossip, it must indeed have been +lonely there. Rumours and tales, reports, surmises--were they +not the children of the house, as dear and precious as the +prattling babes the brother and sisters had missed in their own +journey? To talk about them, was as near as they could get to +the possession of all those children and grandchildren, after +whom their soft hearts yearned. For though it is doubtful +whether Timothy's heart yearned, it is indubitable that at the +arrival of each fresh Forsyte child he was quite upset. + +Useless for young Roger to say, "Old cat!" for Euphemia to hold up +her hands and cry: "Oh! those three!" and break into her silent +laugh with the squeak at the end. Useless, and not too kind. + +The situation which at this stage might seem, and especially to +Forsyte eyes, strange--not to say 'impossible'--was, in view of +certain facts, not so strange after all. Some things had been +lost sight of. And first, in the security bred of many harmless +marriages, it had been forgotten that Love is no hot-house +flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour +of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a +wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within +the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms +outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and +colour are always, wild! And further--the facts and figures of +their own lives being against the perception of this truth--it +was not generally recognised by Forsytes that, where, this wild +plant springs, men and women are but moths around the pale, +flame-like blossom. + +It was long since young Jolyon's escapade--there was danger of a +tradition again arising that people in their position never cross +the hedge to pluck that flower; that one could reckon on having +love, like measles, once in due season, and getting over it +comfortably for all time--as with measles, on a soothing mixture +of butter and honey--in the arms of wedlock. + +Of all those whom this strange rumour about Bosinney and Mrs. +Soames reached, James was the most affected. He had long +forgotten how he had hovered, lanky and pale, in side whiskers of +chestnut hue, round Emily, in the days of his own courtship. He +had long forgotten the small house in the purlieus of Mayfair, +where he had spent the early days of his married life, or rather, +he had long forgotten the early days, not the small house,--a +Forsyte never forgot a house--he had afterwards sold it at a +clear profit of four hundred pounds. + +He had long, forgotten those days, with their hopes and fears and +doubts about the prudence of the match (for Emily, though pretty, +had nothing, and he himself at that time was making a bare +thousand a year), and that strange, irresistible attraction which +had drawn him on, till he felt he must die if he could not marry +the girl with the fair hair, looped so neatly back, the fair arms +emerging from a skin-tight bodice, the fair form decorously +shielded by a cage of really stupendous circumference. + +James had passed through the fire, but he had passed also through +the river of years which washes out the fire; he had experienced +the saddest experience of all--forgetfulness of what it was like +to be in love. + +Forgotten! Forgotten so long, that he had forgotten even that he +had forgotten. + +And now this rumour had come upon him, this rumour about his +son's wife; very vague, a shadow dodging among the palpable, +straightforward appearances of things, unreal, unintelligible as +a ghost, but carrying with it, like a ghost, inexplicable terror. + +He tried to bring it home to his mind, but it was no more use +than trying to apply to himself one of those tragedies he read of +daily in his evening paper. He simply could not. There could be +nothing in it. It was all their nonsense. She didn't get on +with Soames as well as she might, but she was a good little +thing--a good little thing! + +Like the not inconsiderable majority of men, James relished a +nice little bit of scandal, and would say, in a matter-of-fact +tone, licking his lips, "Yes, yes--she and young Dyson; they tell +me they're living at Monte Carlo!" + +But the significance of an affair of this sort--of its past, its +present, or its future--had never struck him. What it meant, +what torture and raptures had gone to its construction, what +slow, overmastering fate had lurked within the facts, very naked, +sometimes sordid, but generally spicy, presented to his gaze. He +was not in the habit of blaming, praising, drawing deductions, or +generalizing at all about such things; he simply listened rather +greedily, and repeated what he was told, finding considerable +benefit from the practice, as from the consumption of a sherry +and bitters before a meal. + +Now, however, that such a thing--or rather the rumour, the breath +of it--had come near him personally, he felt as in a fog, which +filled his mouth full of a bad, thick flavour, and made it +difficult to draw breath. + +A scandal! A possible scandal! + +To repeat this word to himself thus was the only way in which he +could focus or make it thinkable. He had forgotten the +sensations necessary for understanding the progress, fate, or +meaning of any such business; he simply could no longer grasp the +possibilities of people running any risk for the sake of passion. + +Amongst all those persons of his acquaintance, who went into the +City day after day and did their business there, whatever it was, +and in their leisure moments bought shares, and houses, and ate +dinners, and played games, as he was told, it would have seemed +to him ridiculous to suppose that there were any who would run +risks for the sake of anything so recondite, so figurative, as +passion. + +Passion! He seemed, indeed, to have heard of it, and rules such +as 'A young man and a young woman ought never to be trusted +together' were fixed in his mind as the parallels of latitude are +fixed on a map (for all Forsytes, when it comes to 'bed-rock' +matters of fact, have quite a fine taste in realism); but as to +anything else--well, he could only appreciate it at all through +the catch-word 'scandal.' + +Ah! but there was no truth in it--could not be. He was not +afraid; she was really a good little thing. But there it was +when you got a thing like that into your mind. And James was of +a nervous temperament--one of those men whom things will not +leave alone, who suffer tortures from anticipation and +indecision. For fear of letting something slip that he might +otherwise secure, he was physically unable to make up his mind +until absolutely certain that, by not making it up, he would +suffer loss. + +In life, however, there were many occasions when the business of +making up his mind did not even rest with himself, and this was +one of them. + +What could he do? Talk it over with Soames? That would only +make matters worse. And, after all, there was nothing in it, he +felt sure. + +It was all that house. He had mistrusted the idea from the +first. What did Soames want to go into the country for? And, if +he must go spending a lot of money building himself a house, why +not have a first-rate man, instead of this young Bosinney, whom +nobody knew anything about? He had told them, how it would be. +And he had heard that the house was costing Soames a pretty penny +beyond what he had reckoned on spending. + +This fact, more than any other, brought home to James the real +danger of the situation. It was always like this with these +'artistic' chaps; a sensible man should have nothing to say to +them. He had warned Irene, too. And see what had come of it! + +And it suddenly sprang into James's mind that he ought to go and +see for himself. In the midst of that fog of uneasiness in which +his mind was enveloped the notion that he could go and look at +the house afforded him inexplicable satisfaction. It may have +been simply the decision to do something--more possibly the fact +that he was going to look at a house--that gave him relief. +He felt that in staring at an edifice of bricks and mortar, of +wood and stone, built by the suspected man himself, he would be +looking into the heart of that rumour about Irene. + +Without saying a word, therefore, to anyone, he took a hansom to +the station and proceeded by train to Robin Hill; thence--there +being no 'flies,' in accordance with the custom of the +neighbourhood--he found himself obliged to walk. + +He started slowly up the hill, his angular knees and high +shoulders bent complainingly, his eyes fixed on his feet, yet, +neat for all that, in his high hat and his frock-coat, on which +was the speckless gloss imparted by perfect superintendence. +Emily saw to that; that is, she did not, of course, see to it-- +people of good position not seeing to each other's buttons, and +Emily was of good position--but she saw that the butler saw to +it. + +He had to ask his way three times; on each occasion he repeated +the directions given him, got the man to repeat them, then +repeated them a second time, for he was naturally of a talkative +disposition, and one could not be too careful in a new +neighbourhood. + +He kept assuring them that it was a new house he was looking for; +it was only, however, when he was shown the roof through the +trees that he could feel really satisfied that he had not been +directed entirely wrong. + +A heavy sky seemed to cover the world with the grey whiteness of +a whitewashed ceiling. There was no freshness or fragrance in +the air. On such a day even British workmen scarcely cared to do +more then they were obliged, and moved about their business +without the drone of talk which whiles away the pangs of labour. + +Through spaces of the unfinished house, shirt-sleeved figures +worked slowly, and sounds arose--spasmodic knockings, the +scraping of metal, the sawing of wood, with the rumble of +wheelbarrows along boards; now and again the foreman's dog, +tethered by a string to an oaken beam, whimpered feebly, with a +sound like the singing of a kettle. + +The fresh-fitted window-panes, daubed each with a white patch in +the centre, stared out at James like the eyes of a blind dog. + +And the building chorus went on, strident and mirthless under the +grey-white sky. But the thrushes, hunting amongst the fresh- +turned earth for worms, were silent quite. + +James picked his way among the heaps of gravel--the drive was +being laid--till he came opposite the porch. Here he stopped and +raised his eyes. There was but little to see from this point of +view, and that little he took in at once; but he stayed in this +position many minutes, and who shall know of what he thought. + +His china-blue eyes under white eyebrows that jutted out in +little horns, never stirred; the long upper lip of his wide +mouth, between the fine white whiskers, twitched once or twice; +it was easy to see from that anxious rapt expression, whence +Soames derived the handicapped look which sometimes came upon his +face. James might have been saying to himself: 'I don't know-- +life's a tough job.' + +In this position Bosinney surprised him. + +James brought his eyes down from whatever bird's-nest they had +been looking for in the sky to Bosinney's face, on which was a +kind of humorous scorn. + +"How do you do, Mr. Forsyte? Come down to see for yourself?" + +It was exactly what James, as we know, had come for, and he was +made correspondingly uneasy. He held out his hand, however, +saying: + +"How are you?" without looking at Bosinney. + +The latter made way for him with an ironical smile. + +James scented something suspicious in this courtesy. "I should +like to walk round the outside first," he said, "and see what +you've been doing!" + +A flagged terrace of rounded stones with a list of two or three +inches to port had been laid round the south-east and south-west +sides of the house, and ran with a bevelled edge into mould, +which was in preparation for being turfed; along this terrace +James led the way. + +"Now what did this cost?" he asked, when he saw the terrace +extending round the corner. + +"What should you think?" inquired Bosinney. + +"How should I know?" replied James somewhat nonplussed; "two or +three hundred, I dare say!" + +"The exact sum!" + +James gave him a sharp look, but the architect appeared +unconscious, and he put the answer down to mishearing. + +On arriving at the garden entrance, he stopped to look at the +view. + +"That ought to come down," he said, pointing to the oak-tree. + +"You think so? You think that with the tree there you don't get +enough view for your money. + +Again James eyed him suspiciously--this young man had a peculiar +way of putting things: "Well!" he said, with a perplexed, +nervous, emphasis, "I don't see what you want with a tree." + +"It shall come down to-morrow," said Bosinney. + +James was alarmed. "Oh," he said, "don't go saying I said it was +to come down! I know nothing about it!" + +"No?" + +James went on in a fluster: "Why, what should I know about it? +It's nothing to do with me! You do it on your own +responsibility." + +"You'll allow me to mention your name?" + +James grew more and more alarmed: "I don't know what you want +mentioning my name for," he muttered; "you'd better leave the +tree alone. It's not your tree!" + +He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped his brow. They entered +the house. Like Swithin, James was impressed by the inner +court-yard. + +You must have spent a douce of a lot of money here," he said, +after staring at the columns and gallery for some time. "Now, +what did it cost to put up those columns?" + +"I can't tell you off-hand," thoughtfully answered Bosinney, "but +I know it was a deuce of a lot!" + +"I should think so," said James. "I should...." He caught the +architect's eye, and broke off. And now, whenever he came to +anything of which he desired to know the cost, he stifled that +curiosity. + +Bosinney appeared determined that he should see everything, and +had not James been of too 'noticing=a nature, he would +certainly have found himself going round the house a second time. +He seemed so anxious to be asked questions, too, that James felt +he must be on his guard. He began to suffer from his exertions, +for, though wiry enough for a man of his long build, he was +seventy-five years old. + +He grew discouraged; he seemed no nearer to anything, had not +obtained from his inspection any of the knowledge he had vaguely +hoped for. He had merely increased his dislike and mistrust of +this young man, who had tired him out with his politeness, and in +whose manner he now certainly detected mockery. + +The fellow was sharper than he had thought, and better-looking +than he had hoped. He had a--a 'don't care' appearance that +James, to whom risk was the most intolerable thing in life, did +not appreciate; a peculiar smile, too, coming when least +expected; and very queer eyes. He reminded James, as he said +afterwards, of a hungry cat. This was as near as he could get, +in conversation with Emily, to a description of the peculiar +exasperation, velvetiness, and mockery, of which Bosinney's +manner had been composed. + +At last, having seen all that was to be seen, he came out again +at the door where he had gone in; and now, feeling that he was +wasting time and strength and money, all for nothing, he took the +courage of a Forsyte in both hands, and, looking sharply at +Bosinney, said: + +"I dare say you see a good deal of my daughter-in-law; now, what +does she think of the house? But she hasn't seen it, I suppose?" + +This he said, knowing all about Irene's visit not, of course, +that there was anything in the visit, except that extraordinary +remark she had made about 'not caring to get home'--and the story +of how June had taken the news! + +He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give +Bosinney a chance, as he said to himself. + +The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with +uncomfortable steadiness on James. + +"She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of, +it." + +Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from +letting the matter drop. + +"Oh!" he said, "she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I +suppose?" + +Bosinney smilingly replied: "Oh, no!" + +"What, did she come down alone?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then--who brought her?" + +"I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought +her." + +To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared +incomprehensible. + +"Why!" he stammered, "you know that...." but he stopped, suddenly +perceiving his danger. + +"Well," he said, "if you don't want to tell me I suppose you +won't! Nobody tells me anything." + +Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question. + +"By the by," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to +be any more of you coming down? I should like to be on the +spot!" + +"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I +don't know of any more. Good-bye?" + +Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of +it with Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, +walked away along the terrace. + +Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney +following him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to +himself, 'like a great cat.' He paid no attention when the young +fellow raised his hat. + +Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still +more. Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, +and disheartened, he made his way back to the station. + +The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps +for his behaviour to the old man. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND + + +James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, +having occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter +connected with a drainage scheme which was being forced by the +sanitary authorities on his, brother, he mentioned it there. + +It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal +could be made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though +what it was going to cost Soames before it was done with he +didn't know. + +Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come +round to borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and +Paregoric', which was having such a vogue--chimed in. + +"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were +having a nice little chat in the Groceries." + +It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really +made a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been +hurrying to the silk department of the Church and Commercial +Stores--that Institution than which, with its admirable system, +admitting only guaranteed persons on a basis of payment before +delivery, no emporium can be more highly recommended to Forsytes- +-to match a piece of prunella silk for her mother, who was +waiting in the carriage outside. + +Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted +by the back view of a very beautiful, figure. It was so +charmingly proportioned, so balanced, and so well clothed, that +Euphemia's instinctive propriety was at once alarmed; such +figures, she knew, by intuition rather than experience, were +rarely connected with virtue--certainly never in her mind, for +her own back was somewhat difficult to fit. + +Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming +from the Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the +lady with the unknown back. + +It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was +undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing +herself rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for +she was impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her + +hands, and at the busy time of the morning, she was quite +unintentionally an interested observer of their little interview. + +Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in +her cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though +attractive (she thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, +and Georges name for him, 'The Buccaneer--about which there was +something romantic--quite charming). He seemed to be pleading. +Indeed, they talked so earnestly--or, rather, he talked so +earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not say much--that they caused, +inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One nice old General, +going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of the way, +and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually +took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man! + +But it was Mrs. Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never +once looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she +looked after him. And, oh, that look! + +On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not +too much to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering +softness, for all the world as though the woman wanted to +drag him back, and unsay something she had been saying. + +Ah, well, she had had no time to go deeply into the matter just +then, with that prunella silk on her hands; but she was 'very +intriguee--very! She had just nodded to Mrs. Soames, to show her +that she had seen; and, as she confided, in talking it over +afterwards, to her chum Francie (Roger's daughter), "Didn't she +look caught out just? ...." + +James, most averse at the first blush to accepting any news +confirmatory of his own poignant suspicions, took her up at once. + +"Oh" he said, "they'd be after wall-papers no doubt." + +Euphemia smiled. "In the Groceries?" she said softly; and, +taking 'Passion and Paregoric' from the table, added: "And so +you'll lend me this, dear Auntie? Good-bye!" and went away. + +James left almost immediately after; he was late as it was. + +When he reached the office of Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte, he +found Soames, sitting in his revolving, chair, drawing up a +defence. The latter greeted his father with a curt good-morning, +and, taking an envelope from his pocket, said: + +"It may interest you to look through this." + +James read as follows: + + +309D, SLOANE STREET, +May 15. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'The construction of your house being now completed, my duties as +architect have come to an end. If I am to go on with the +business of decoration, which at your request I undertook, I +should like you to clearly understand that I must have a free +hand. + +'You never come down without suggesting something that goes +counter to my scheme. I have here three letters from you, each +of which recommends an article I should never dream of putting +in. I had your father here yesterday afternoon, who made further +valuable suggestions. + +'Please make up your mind, therefore, whether you want me to +decorate for you, or to retire which on the whole I should prefer +to do. + +'But understand that, if I decorate, I decorate alone, without +interference of any sort. + +If I do the thing, I will do it thoroughly, but I must have a +free hand. + +'Yours truly, + +'PHILIP BOSINNEY.' + + +The exact and immediate cause of this letter cannot, of course, +be told, though it is not improbable that Bosinney may have been +moved by some sudden revolt against his position towards Soames-- +that eternal position of Art towards Property--which is so +admirably summed up, on the back of the most indispensable of +modern appliances, in a sentence comparable to the very finest in +Tacitus: + + +THOS. T. SORROW, Inventor. +BERT M. PADLAND, Proprietor. + + +"What are you going to say to him?" James asked. + +Soames did not even turn his head. "I haven't made up my mind," +he said, and went on with his defence. + +A client of his, having put some buildings on a piece of ground +that did not belong to him, had been suddenly and most irritat- +ingly warned to take them off again. After carefully going into +the facts, however, Soames had seen his way to advise that his +client had what was known as a title by possession, and that, +though undoubtedly the ground did not belong to him, he was +entitled to keep it, and had better do so; and he was now +following up this advice by taking steps to--as the sailors say-- +'make it so.' + +He had a distinct reputation for sound advice; people saying of +him: "Go to young Forsyte--a long-headed fellow!" and he prized +this reputation highly. + +His natural taciturnity was in his favour; nothing could be more +calculated to give people, especially people with property +(Soames had no other clients), the impression that he was a safe +man. And he was safe. Tradition, habit, education, inherited +aptitude, native caution, all joined to form a solid professional +honesty, superior to temptation--from the very fact that it was +built on an innate avoidance of risk. How could he fall, when +his soul abhorred circumstances which render a fall possible--a +man cannot fall off the floor! + +And those countless Forsytes, who, in the course of innumerable +transactions concerned with property of all sorts (from wives to +water rights), had occasion for the services of a safe man, +found it both reposeful and profitable to confide in Soames. +That slight superciliousness of his, combined with an air of +mousing amongst precedents, was in his favour too--a man would +not be supercilious unless he knew! + +He was really at the head of the business, for though James still +came nearly every day to, see for himself, he did little now but +sit in his chair, twist his legs, slightly confuse things already +decided, and presently go away again, and the other partner, +Bustard, was a poor thing, who did a great deal of work, but +whose opinion was never taken. + +So Soames went steadily on with his defence. Yet it would be +idle to say that his mind was at ease. He was suffering from a +sense of impending trouble, that had haunted him for some time +past. He tried to think it physical--a condition of his liver-- +but knew that it was not. + +He looked at his watch. In a quarter of an hour he was due at +the General Meeting of the New Colliery Company--one of Uncle +Jolyon's concerns; he should see Uncle Jolyon there, and say +something to him about Bosinney--he had not made up his mind +what, but something--in any case he should not answer this letter +until he had seen Uncle Jolyon. He got up and methodically put +away the draft of his defence. Going into a dark little +cupboard, he turned up the light, washed his hands with a piece +of brown Windsor soap, and dried them on a roller towel. Then he +brushed his hair, paying strict attention to the parting, turned +down the light, took his hat, and saying he would be back at +half-past two, stepped into the Poultry. + +It was not far to the Offices of the New Colliery Company in +Ironmonger Lane, where, and not at the Cannon Street Hotel, in +accordance with the more ambitious practice of other companies, +the General Meeting was always held. Old Jolyon had from the +first set his face against the Press. What business--he said-- +had the Public with his concerns! + +Soames arrived on the stroke of time, and took his seat alongside +the Board, who, in a row, each Director behind his own ink-pot, +faced their Shareholders. + +In the centre of this row old Jolyon, conspicuous in his black, +tightly-buttoned frock-coat and his white moustaches, was leaning +back with finger tips crossed on a copy of the Directors' report +and accounts. + +On his right hand, always a little larger than life, sat the +Secretary, 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings; an all-too-sad sadness +beaming in his fine eyes; his iron-grey beard, in mourning like +the rest of him, giving the feeling of an all-too-black tie +behind it. + +The occasion indeed was a melancholy one, only six weeks having +elapsed since that telegram had come from Scorrier, the mining +expert, on a private mission to the Mines, informing them that +Pippin, their Superintendent, had committed suicide in +endeavouring, after his extraordinary two years' silence, to +write a letter to his Board. That letter was on the table now; +it would be read to the Shareholders, who would of course be put +into possession of all the facts. + +Hemmings had often said to Soames, standing with his coat-tails +divided before the fireplace: + +"What our Shareholders don't know about our affairs isn't worth +knowing. You may take that from me, Mr. Soames." + +On one occasion, old Jolyon being present, Soames recollected a +little unpleasantness. His uncle had looked up sharply and said: +"Don't talk nonsense, Hemmings! You mean that what they do know +isn't worth knowing!" Old Jolyon detested humbug. + +Hemmings, angry-eyed, and wearing a smile like that of a trained +poodle, had replied in an outburst of artificial applause: "Come, +now, that's good, sir--that's very good. Your uncle will have +his joke!" + +The next time he had seen Soames: he had taken the opportunity of +saying to him: "The chairman's getting very old!--I can't get him +to understand things; and he's so wilful--but what can you +expect, with a chin like his?" + +Soames had nodded. + +Everyone knew that Uncle Jolyon's chin was a caution. He was +looking worried to-day, in spite of his General Meeting look; he +(Soames) should certainly speak to him about Bosinney. + +Beyond old Jolyon on the left was little Mr. Booker, and he, too, +wore his General Meeting look, as though searching for some +particularly tender shareholder. And next him was the deaf +director, with a frown; and beyond the deaf director, again, was +old Mr. Bleedham, very bland, and having an air of conscious +virtue--as well he might, knowing that the brown-paper parcel he +always brought to the Board-room was concealed behind his hat +(one of that old-fashioned class, of flat-brimmed top-hats which +go with very large bow ties, clean-shaven lips, fresh cheeks, and +neat little, white whiskers). + +Soames always attended the General Meeting; it was considered +better that he should do so, in case 'anything should arise!' He +glanced round with his close, supercilious air at the walls of +the room, where hung plans of the mine and harbour, together with +a large photograph of a shaft leading to a working which had +proved quite remarkably unprofitable. This photograph--a witness +to the eternal irony underlying commercial enterprise till +retained its position on the--wall, an effigy of the directors' +pet, but dead, lamb. + +And now old Jolyon rose, to present the report and accounts. + +Veiling under a Jove-like serenity that perpetual antagonism +deep-seated in the bosom of a director towards his shareholders, +he faced them calmly. Soames faced them too. He knew most of +them by sight. There was old Scrubsole, a tar man, who always +came, as Hemmings would say, ' to make himself nasty,' a +cantankerous-looking old fellow with a red face, a jowl, and an +enormous low-crowned hat reposing on his knee. And the Rev. Mr. +Boms, who always proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman, in +which he invariably expressed the hope that the Board would not +forget to elevate their employees, using the word with a double +e, as being more vigorous and Anglo-Saxon (he had the strong +Imperialistic tendencies of his cloth). It was his salutary +custom to buttonhole a director afterwards, and ask him whether +he thought the coming year would be good or bad; and, according +to the trend of the answer, to buy or sell three shares within +the ensuing fortnight. + +And there was that military man, Major O'Bally, who could not +help speaking, if only to second the re-election of the auditor, +and who sometimes caused serious consternation by taking toasts-- +proposals rather--out of the hands of persons who had been +flattered with little slips of paper, entrusting the said +proposals to their care. + +These made up the lot, together with four or five strong, silent +shareholders, with whom Soames could sympathize--men of business, +who liked to keep an eye on their affairs for themselves, without +being fussy--good, solid men, who came to the City every day and +went back in the evening to good, solid wives. + +Good, solid wives! There was something in that thought which +roused the nameless uneasiness in Soames again. + +What should he say to his uncle? What answer should he make to +this letter? + +. . . . "If any shareholder has any question to put, I shall +be glad to answer it." A soft thump. Old Jolyon had let the +report and accounts fall, and stood twisting his tortoise-shell +glasses between thumb and forefinger. + +The ghost of a smile appeared on Soames' face. They had better +hurry up with their questions! He well knew his uncle's method +(the ideal one) of at once saying: "I propose, then, that the +report and accounts be adopted!" Never let them get their wind-- +shareholders were notoriously wasteful of time! + +A tall, white-bearded man, with a gaunt, dissatisfied face, +arose: + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman, in raising a question on +this figure of L5000 in the accounts. 'To the widow and +family"' (he looked sourly round), "'of our late superintendent,' +who so--er--ill-advisedly (I say--ill-advisedly) committed +suicide, at a time when his services were of the utmost value to +this Company. You have stated that the agreement which he has so +unfortunately cut short with his own hand was for a period of +five years, of which one only had expired--I--" + +Old Jolyon made a gesture of impatience. + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman--I ask whether this amount +paid, or proposed to be paid, by the Board to the er--deceased-- +is for services which might have been rendered to the Company-- +had he not committed suicide?" + +"It is in recognition of past services, which we all know--you as +well as any of us--to have been of vital value." + +"Then, sir, all I have to say is, that the services being past, +the amount is too much." + +The shareholder sat down. + +Old Jolyon waited a second and said: "I now propose that the +report and--" + +The shareholder rose again: "May I ask if the Board realizes +that it is not their money which--I don't hesitate to say that if +it were their money...." + +A second shareholder, with a round, dogged face, whom Soames +recognised as the late superintendent's brother-in-law, got up +and said warmly: "In my opinion, sir, the sum is not enough!" + +The Rev. Mr. Boms now rose to his feet. "If I may venture to +express myself," he said, "I should say that the fact of the--er- +-deceased having committed suicide should weigh very heavily-- +very heavily with our worthy chairman. I have no doubt it has +weighed with him, for--I say this for myself and I think for +everyone present (hear, hear)--he enjoys our confidence in a high +degree. We all desire, I should hope, to be charitable. But I +feel sure" (he-looked severely at the late superintendent's +brother-in-law) "that he will in some way, by some written +expression, or better perhaps by reducing the amount, record our +grave disapproval that so promising and valuable a life should +have been thus impiously removed from a sphere where both its own +interests and--if I may say so--our interests so imperatively +demanded its continuance. We should not--nay, we may not-- +countenance so grave a dereliction of all duty, both human and +divine." + +The reverend gentleman resumed his seat. The late super- +intendent's brother-in-law again rose: "What I have said I +stick to," he said; "the amount is not enough!" + +The first shareholder struck in: "I challenge the legality of the +payment. In my opinion this payment is not legal. The Company's +solicitor is present; I believe I am in order in asking him the +question." + +All eyes were now turned upon Soames. Something had arisen! + +He stood up, close-lipped and cold; his nerves inwardly +fluttered, his attention tweaked away at last from contemplation +of that cloud looming on the horizon of his mind. + +"The point," he said in a low, thin voice, "is by no means clear. +As there is no possibility of future consideration being +received, it is doubtful whether the payment is strictly legal. +If it is desired, the opinion of the court could be taken." + +The superintendent's brother-in-law frowned, and said in a +meaning tone: "We have no doubt the opinion of the court could be +taken. May I ask the name of the gentleman who has given us that +striking piece of information? Mr. Soames Forsyte? Indeed!" He +looked from Soames to old Jolyon in a pointed manner. + +A flush coloured Soames' pale cheeks, but his superciliousness +did not waver. Old Jolyon fixed his eyes on the speaker. + +"If," he said, "the late superintendents brother-in-law has +nothing more to say, I propose that the report and accounts...." + +At this moment, however, there rose one of those five silent, +stolid shareholders, who had excited Soames' sympathy. He said: + +"I deprecate the proposal altogether. We are expected to give +charity to this man's wife and children, who, you tell us, were +dependent on him. They may have been; I do not care whether they +were or not. I object to the whole thing on principle. It is +high time a stand was made against this sentimental human- +itarianism. The country is eaten up with it. I object to +my money being paid to these people of whom I know nothing, who +have done nothing to earn it. I object in toto; it is not +business. I now move that the report and accounts be put back, +and amended by striking out the grant altogether." + +Old Jolyon had remained standing while the strong, silent man was +speaking. The speech awoke an echo in all hearts, voicing, as it +did, the worship of strong men, the movement against generosity, +which had at that time already commenced among the saner members +of the community. + +The words 'it is not business' had moved even the Board; +privately everyone felt that indeed it was not. But they knew +also the chairman's domineering temper and tenacity. He, too, at +heart must feel that it was not business; but he was committed to +his own proposition. Would he go back upon it? It was thought +to be unlikely. + +All waited with interest. Old Jolyon held up his hand; +dark-rimmed glasses depending between his finger and thumb +quivered slightly with a suggestion of menace. + +He addressed the strong, silent shareholder. + +"Knowing, as you do, the efforts of our late superintendent upon +the occasion of the explosion at the mines, do you seriously wish +me to put that amendment, sir?" + +"I do." + +Old Jolyon put the amendment. + +"Does anyone second this?" he asked, looking calmly round. + +And it was then that Soames, looking at his uncle, felt the power +of will that was in that old man. No one stirred. Looking +straight into the eyes of the strong, silent shareholder, old +Jolyon said: + +"I now move, 'That the report and accounts for the year 1886 be +received and adopted.' You second that? Those in favour signify +the same in the usual way. Contrary--no. Carried. The next +business, gentlemen...." + +Soames smiled. Certainly Uncle Jolyon had a way with him! + +But now his attention relapsed upon Bosinney. + +Odd how that fellow haunted his thoughts, even in business hours. + +Irene's visit to the house--but there was nothing in that, except +that she might have told him; but then, again, she never did tell +him anything. She was more silent, more touchy, every day. He +wished to God the house were finished, and they were in it, away +from London. Town did not suit her; her nerves were not strong +enough. That nonsense of the separate room had cropped up again! + +The meeting was breaking up now. Underneath the photograph of +the lost shaft Hemmings was buttonholed by the Rev. Mr. Boms. +Little Mr. Booker, his bristling eyebrows wreathed in angry +smiles, was having a parting turn-up with old Scrubsole. The two +hated each other like poison. There was some matter of a +tar-contract between them, little Mr. Booker having secured it +from the Board for a nephew of his, over old Scrubsole's head. +Soames had heard that from Hemmings, who liked a gossip, more +especially about his directors, except, indeed, old Jolyon, of +whom he was afraid. + +Soames awaited his opportunity. The last shareholder was +vanishing through the door, when he approached his uncle, who was +putting on his hat. + +"Can I speak to you for a minute, Uncle Jolyon?" + +It is uncertain what Soames expected to get out of this +interview. + +Apart from that somewhat mysterious awe in which Forsytes: in +general held old Jolyon, due to his philosophic twist, or +perhaps--as Hemmings would doubtless have said--to his chin, +there was, and always had been, a subtle antagonism between the +younger man and the old. It had lurked under their dry manner of +greeting, under their non-committal allusions to each other, and +arose perhaps from old Jolyon's perception of the quiet tenacity +('obstinacy,' he rather naturally called it) of the young man, of +a secret doubt whether he could get his own way with him. + +Both these Forsytes, wide asunder as the poles in many respects, +possessed in their different ways--to a greater degree than the +rest of the family--that essential quality of tenacious and +prudent insight into 'affairs,' which is the highwater mark of +their great class. Either of them, with a little luck and +opportunity, was equal to a lofty career; either of them would +have made a good financier, a great contractor, a statesman, +though old Jolyon, in certain of his moods when under the +influence of a cigar or of Nature--would have been capable of, +not perhaps despising, but certainly of questioning, his own high +position, while Soames, who never smoked cigars, would not. + +Then, too, in old Jolyon's mind there was always the secret ache, +that the son of James--of James, whom he had always thought such +a poor thing, should be pursuing the paths of success, while his +own son...! + +And last, not least--for he was no more outside the radiation of +family gossip than any other Forsyte he had now heard the +sinister, indefinite, but none the less disturbing rumour about +Bosinney, and his pride was wounded to the quick. + +Characteristically, his irritation turned not against Irene but +against Soames. The idea that his nephew's wife (why couldn't +the fellow take better care of her--Oh! quaint injustice! as +though Soames could possibly take more care!)--should be drawing +to herself June's lover, was intolerably humiliating. And seeing +the danger, he did not, like James, hide it away in sheer +nervousness, but owned with the dispassion of his broader +outlook, that it was not unlikely; there was something very +attractive about Irene! + +He had a presentiment on the subject, of Soames' communication as +they left the Board Room together, and went out into the noise +and hurry of Cheapside. They walked together a good minute +without speaking, Soames with his mousing, mincing step, and old +Jolyon upright and using his umbrella languidly as a +walking-stick. + +They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon's +way to a second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street. + +Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: "I've had this +letter from Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I'd let +you know. I've spent a lot more than I intended on this house, +and I want the position to be clear." + +Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: "What he +says is clear enough," he said. + +"He talks about 'a free hand,"' replied Soames. + +Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and +antagonism towards this young fellow, whose affairs were +beginning to intrude upon his own, burst from him. + +"Well, if you don't trust him, why do you employ him?" + +Soames stole a sideway look: "It's much too late to go into +that," he said, "I only want it to be quite understood that if I +give him a free hand, he doesn't let me in. I thought if you +were to speak to him, it would carry more weight!" + +"No," said old Jolyon abruptly; "I'll have nothing to do with +it!" + +The words of both uncle and nephew gave the impression of +unspoken meanings, far more important, behind. And the look they +interchanged was like a revelation of this consciousness. + +"Well," said Soames; "I thought, for June's sake, I'd tell you, +that's all; I thought You'd better know I shan't stand any +nonsense!" + +"What is that to me?" old Jolyon took him up. + +"Oh! I don't know," said Soames, and flurried by that sharp look +he was unable to say more. "Don't say I didn't tell you," he +added sulkily, recovering his composure. + +"Tell me!" said old Jolyon; "I don't know what you mean. You +come worrying me about a thing like this. I don't want to hear +about your affairs; you must manage them yourself!" + +"Very well," said Soames immovably, "I will!" + +"Good-morning, then," said old Jolyon, and they parted. + +Soames retraced his steps, and going into a celebrated eating- +house, asked for a plate of smoked salmon and a glass of +Chablis; he seldom ate much in the middle of the day, and +generally ate standing, finding the position beneficial to his +liver, which was very sound, but to which he desired to put down +all his troubles. + +When he had finished he went slowly back to his office, with bent +head, taking no notice of the swarming thousands on the +pavements, who in their turn took no notice of him. + +The evening post carried the following reply to Bosinney: + + +'FORSYTE, BUSTARD AND FORSYTE, +'Commissioners for Oaths, +'92001, BRANCH LANE, POULTRY, E.C., + +'May 17, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I have, received your letter, the terms of which not a little +surprise me. I was under the impression that you had, and have +had all along, a "free hand"; for I do not recollect that any +suggestions I have been so unfortunate as to make, have met with +your approval. In giving you, in accordance with your request, +this "free hand," I wish you to clearly understand that the total +cost of the house as handed over to me completely decorated, +inclusive of your fee (as arranged between us), must not exceed +twelve thousand pounds--L12,000. This gives you an ample margin, +and, as you know, is far more than I originally contemplated. + +'I am, +'Yours truly, + + 'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +On the following day he received a note from Bosinney: + + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY, +'Architect, +'309D, SLOANE STREET, S.W., +'May 18. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'If you think that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can +bind myself to the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken. I +can see that you are tired of the arrangement, and of me, and I +had better, therefore, resign. + +'Yours faithfully, + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY.' + + +Soames pondered long and painfully over his answer, and late at +night in the dining-room, when Irene had gone to bed, he composed +the following: + + +'62, MONTPELLIER SQUARE, S.W., +'May 19, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I think that in both our interests it would be extremely +undesirable that matters should be so left at this stage. I did +not mean to say that if you should exceed the sum named in my +letter to you by ten or twenty or even fifty pounds, there would +be any difficulty between us. This being so, I should like you +to reconsider your answer. You have a "free hand" in the terms +of this correspondence, and I hope you will see your way to +completing the decorations, in the matter of which I know it is +difficult to be absolutely exact. + +'Yours truly, + +'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +Bosinney's answer, which came in the course of the next day, was: + + +'May 20. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'Very well. + +'PH. BOSINNEY.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OLD JOLYON AT THE ZOO + + +Old Jolyon disposed of his second Meeting--an ordinary Board-- +summarily. He was so dictatorial that his fellow directors were +left in cabal over the increasing domineeringness of old Forsyte, +which they were far from intending to stand much longer, they +said. + +He went out by Undergound to Portland Road Station, whence he +took a cab and drove to the Zoo. + +He had an assignation there, one of those assignations that had +lately been growing more frequent, to which his increasing +uneasiness about June and the 'change in her,' as he expressed +it, was driving him. + +She buried herself away, and was growing thin; if he spoke to her +he got no answer, or had his head snapped off, or she looked as +if she would burst into tears. She was as changed as she could +be, all through this Bosinney. As for telling him about +anything, not a bit of it! + +And he would sit for long spells brooding, his paper unread +before him, a cigar extinct between his lips. She had been such +a companion to him ever since she was three years old! And he +loved her so! + +Forces regardless of family or class or custom were beating down +his guard; impending events over which he had no control threw +their shadows on his head. The irritation of one accustomed to +have his way was, roused against he knew not what. + +Chafing at the slowness of his cab, he reached the Zoo door; but, +with his sunny instinct for seizing the good of each moment, he +forgot his vexation as he walked towards the tryst. + +>From the stone terrace above the bear-pit his son and his two +grandchildren came hastening down when they saw old Jolyon +coming, and led him away towards the lion-house. They supported +him on either side, holding one to each of his hands,--whilst +Jolly, perverse like his father, carried his grandfather's +umbrella in such a way as to catch people's legs with the crutch +of the handle. + +Young Jolyon followed. + +It was as good as a play to see his father with the children, but +such a play as brings smiles with tears behind. An old man and +two small children walking together can be seen at any hour of +the day; but the sight of old Jolyon, with Jolly and Holly seemed +to young Jolyon a special peep-show of the things that lie at the +bottom of our hearts. The complete surrender of that erect old +figure to those little figures on either hand was too poignantly +tender, and, being a man of an habitual reflex action, young +Jolyon swore softly under his breath. The show affected him in a +way unbecoming to a Forsyte, who is nothing if not undemonstrative. + +Thus they reached the lion-house. + +There had been a morning fete at the Botanical Gardens, and a +large number of Forsy...'--that is, of well-dressed people who +kept carriages had brought them on to the Zoo, so as to have +more, if possible, for their money, before going back to Rutland +Gate or Bryanston Square. + +"Let's go on to the Zoo," they had said to each other; "it'll be +great fun!" It was a shilling day; and there would not be all +those horrid common people. + +In front of the long line of cages they were collected in rows, +watching the tawny, ravenous beasts behind the bars await their +only pleasure of the four-and-twenty hours. The hungrier the +beast, the greater the fascination. But whether because the +spectators envied his appetite, or, more humanely, because it +was so soon to be satisfied, young Jolyon could not tell. +Remarks kept falling on his ears: "That's a nasty-looking brute, +that tiger!" "Oh, what a love! Look at his little mouth!" +"Yes, he's rather nice! Don't go too near, mother." + +And frequently, with little pats, one or another would clap their +hands to their pockets behind and look round, as though expecting +young Jolyon or some disinterested-looking person to relieve them +of the contents. + +A well-fed man in a white waistcoat said slowly through his +teeth: "It's all greed; they can't be hungry. Why, they take no +exercise." At these words a tiger snatched a piece of bleeding +liver, and the fat man laughed. His wife, in a Paris model frock +and gold nose-nippers, reproved him: "How can you laugh, Harry? +Such a horrid sight!" + +Young Jolyon frowned. + +The circumstances of his life, though he had ceased to take a too +personal view of them, had left him subject to an intermittent +contempt; and the class to which he had belonged--the carriage +class--especially excited his sarcasm. + +To shut up a lion or tiger in confinement was surely a horrible +barbarity. But no cultivated person would admit this. + +The idea of its being barbarous to confine wild animals had +probably never even occurred to his father for instance; he +belonged to the old school, who considered it at once humanizing +and educational to confine baboons and panthers, holding the +view, no doubt, that in course of time they might induce these +creatures not so unreasonably to die of misery and heart- +sickness. against the bars of their cages, and put the society +to the expense of getting others! In his eyes, as in the eyes +of all Forsytes, the pleasure of seeing these beautiful +creatures in a state of captivity far outweighed the +inconvenience of imprisonment to beasts whom God had so +improvidently placed in a state of freedom! It was for the +animals good, removing them at once from the countless dangers +of open air and exercise, and enabling them to exercise their +functions in the guaranteed seclusion of a private compartment! +Indeed, it was doubtful what wild animals were made for but to be +shut up in cages! + +But as young Jolyon had in his constitution the elements of +impartiality, he reflected that to stigmatize as barbarity that +which was merely lack of imagination must be wrong; for none who +held these views had been placed in a similar position to the +animals they caged, and could not, therefore, be expected to +enter into their sensations. It was not until they were leaving +the gardens--Jolly and Holly in a state of blissful delirium-- +that old Jolyon found an opportunity of speaking to his son on +the matter next his heart. "I don't know what to make of it," he +said; "if she's to go on as she's going on now, I can't tell +what's to come. I wanted her to see the doctor, but she won't. +She's not a bit like me. She's your mother all over. Obstinate +as a mule! If she doesn't want to do a thing, she won't, and +there's an end of it!" + +Young Jolyon smiled; his eyes had wandered to his father's chin. +'A pair of you,' he thought, but he said nothing. + +"And then," went on old Jolyon, "there's this Bosinney. I +should like to punch the fellow's head, but I can't, I suppose, +though--I don't see why you shouldn't," he added doubtfully. + +"What has he done? Far better that it should come to an end, if +they don't hit it off!" + +Old Jolyon looked at his son. Now they had actually come to +discuss a subject connected with the relations between the sexes +he felt distrustful. Jo would be sure to hold some loose view or +other. + +"Well, I don't know what you think," he said; "I dare say your +sympathy's with him--shouldn't be surprised; but I think he's +behaving precious badly, and if he comes my way I shall tell him +so." He dropped the subject. + +It was impossible to discuss with his son the true nature and +meaning of Bosinney's defection. Had not his son done the very +same thing (worse, if possible) fifteen years ago? There seemed +no end to the consequences of that piece of folly. + +Young Jolyon also was silent; he had quickly penetrated his +father's thought, for, dethroned from the high seat of an obvious +and uncomplicated view of things, he had become both perceptive +and subtle. + +The attitude he had adopted towards sexual matters fifteen years +before, however, was too different from his father's. There was +no bridging the gulf. + +He said coolly: "I suppose he's fallen in love with some other +woman?" + +Old Jolyon gave him a dubious look: "I can't tell," he said; +"they say so!" + +"Then, it's probably true," remarked young Jolyon unexpectedly; +"and I suppose they've told you who she is?" + +"Yes," said old Jolyon, "Soames's wife!" + +Young Jolyon did not whistle: The circumstances of his own life +had rendered him incapable of whistling on such a subject, but he +looked at his father, while the ghost of a smile hovered over his +face. + +If old Jolyon saw, he took no notice. + +"She and June were bosom friends!" he muttered. + +"Poor little June!" said young Jolyon softly. He thought of his +daughter still as a babe of three. + +Old Jolyon came to a sudden halt. + +"I don't believe a word of it," he said, "it's some old woman's +tale. Get me a cab, Jo, I'm tired to death!" + +They stood at a corner to see if an empty cab would come along, +while carriage after carriage drove past, bearing Forsytes of all +descriptions from the Zoo. The harness, the liveries, the gloss +on the horses' coats, shone and glittered in the May sunlight, +and each equipage, landau, sociable, barouche, Victoria, or +brougham, seemed to roll out proudly from its wheels: + + +'I and my horses and my men you know,' +Indeed the whole turn-out have cost a pot. +But we were worth it every penny. Look +At Master and at Missis now, the dawgs! +Ease with security--ah! that's the ticket! + + +And such, as everyone knows, is fit accompaniment for a +perambulating Forsyte. + +Amongst these carriages was a barouche coming at a greater pace +than the others, drawn by a pair of bright bay horses. It swung +on its high springs, and the four people who filled it seemed +rocked as in a cradle. + +This chariot attracted young Jolyon's attention; and suddenly, on +the back seat, he recognised his Uncle James, unmistakable in +spite of the increased whiteness of his whiskers; opposite, their +backs defended by sunshades, Rachel Forsyte and her elder but +married sister, Winifred Dartie, in irreproachable toilettes, had +posed their heads haughtily, like two of the birds they had been +seeing at the Zoo; while by James' side reclined Dartie, in a +brand-new frock-coat buttoned tight and square, with a large +expanse of carefully shot linen protruding below each wristband. + +An extra, if subdued, sparkle, an added touch of the best gloss +or varnish characterized this vehicle, and seemed to distinguish +it from all the others, as though by some happy extravagance-- +like that which marks out the real 'work of art' from the +ordinary 'picture'--it were designated as the typical car, the +very throne of Forsytedom. + +Old Jolyon did not see them pass; he was petting poor Holly who +was tired, but those in the carriage had taken in the little +group; the ladies' heads tilted suddenly, there was a spasmodic +screening movement of parasols; James' face protruded naively, +like the head of a long bird, his mouth slowly opening. The +shield-like rounds of the parasols grew smaller and smaller, and +vanished. + +Young Jolyon saw that he had been recognised, even by Winifred, +who could not have been more than fifteen when he had forfeited +the right to be considered a Forsyte. + +There was not much change in them! He remembered the exact look +of their turn-out all that time ago: Horses, men, carriage--all +different now, no doubt--but of the precise stamp of fifteen +years before; the same neat display, the same nicely calculated +arrogance ease with security! The swing exact, the pose of the +sunshades exact, exact the spirit of the whole thing. + +And in the sunlight, defended by the haughty shields of parasols, +carriage after carriage went by. + +"Uncle James has just passed, with his female folk," said young +Jolyon. + +His father looked black. "Did your uncle see us? Yes? Hmph! +What's he want, coming down into these parts?" + +An empty cab drove up at this moment, and old Jolyon stopped it. + +"I shall see you again before long, my boy!" he said. "Don't you +go paying any attention to what I've been saying about young +Bosinney--I don't believe a word of it!" + +Kissing the children, who tried to detain him, he stepped in and +was borne away. + +Young Jolyon, who had taken Holly up in his arms, stood +motionless at the corner, looking after the cab. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AFTERNOON AT TIMOTHY'S + + +If old Jolyon, as he got into his cab, had said: 'I won't believe +a word of it!' he would more truthfully have expressed his +sentiments. + +The notion that James and his womankind had seen him in the +company of his son had awakened in him not only the impatience he +always felt when crossed, but that secret hostility natural +between brothers, the roots of which--little nursery rivalries-- +sometimes toughen and deepen as life goes on, and, all hidden, +support a plant capable of producing in season the bitterest +fruits. + +Hitherto there had been between these six brothers no more +unfriendly feeling than that caused by the secret and natural +doubt that the others might be richer than themselves; a feeling +increased to the pitch of curiosity by the approach of death-- +that end of all handicaps--and the great 'closeness' of their man +of business, who, with some sagacity, would profess to Nicholas +ignorance of James' income, to James ignorance of old Jolyon's, +to Jolyon ignorance of Roger's, to Roger ignorance of Swithin's, +while to Swithin he would say most irritatingly that Nicholas +must be a rich man. Timothy alone was exempt, being in +gilt-edged securities. + +But now, between two of them at least, had arisen a very +different sense of injury. From the moment when James had the +impertinence to pry into his affairs--as he put it--old Jolyon no +longer chose to credit this story about Bosinney. His grand- +daughter slighted through a member of 'that fellow's' family! +He made up his mind that Bosinney was maligned. There must be +some other reason for his defection. + +June had flown out at him, or something; she was as touchy as she +could be! + +He would, however, let Timothy have a bit of his mind, and see if +he would go on dropping hints! And he would not let the grass +grow under his feet either, he would go there at once, and take +very good care that he didn't have to go again on the same +errand. + +He saw James' carriage blocking the pavement in front of 'The +Bower.' So they had got there before him--cackling about having +seen him, he dared say! And further on, Swithin's greys were +turning their noses towards the noses of James' bays, as though +in conclave over the family, while their coachmen were in +conclave above. + +Old Jolyon, depositing his hat on the chair in the narrow hall, +where that hat of Bosinney's had so long ago been mistaken for a +cat, passed his thin hand grimly over his face with its great +drooping white moustaches, as though to remove all traces of +expression, and made his way upstairs. + +He found the front drawing-room full. It was full enough at the +best of times--without visitors--without any one in it--for +Timothy and his sisters, following the tradition of their +generation, considered that a room was not quite 'nice' unless it +was 'properly' furnished. It held, therefore, eleven chairs, a +sofa, three tables, two cabinets, innumerable knicknacks, and +part of a large grand piano. And now, occupied by Mrs. Small, +Aunt Hester, by Swithin, James, Rachel, Winifred, Euphemia, who +had come in again to return 'Passion and Paregoric' which she had +read at lunch, and her chum Frances, Roger's daughter (the +musical Forsyte, the one who composed songs), there was only one +chair left unoccupied, except, of course, the two that nobody +ever sat on--and the only standing room was occupied by the cat, +on whom old Jolyon promptly stepped. + +In these days it was by no means unusual for Timothy to have so +many visitors. The family had always, one and all, had a real +respect for Aunt Ann, and now that she was gone, they were coming +far more frequently to The Bower, and staying longer. + +Swithin had been the first to arrive, and seated torpid in a red +satin chair with a gilt back, he gave every appearance of lasting +the others out. And symbolizing Bosinney's name 'the big one,' +with his great stature and bulk, his thick white hair, his puffy +immovable shaven face, he looked more primeval than ever in the +highly upholstered room. + +His conversation, as usual of late, had turned at once upon +Irene, and he had lost no time in giving Aunts Juley and Hester +his opinion with regard to this rumour he heard was going about. +No--as he said--she might want a bit of flirtation--a pretty +woman must have her fling; but more than that he did not believe. +Nothing open; she had too much good sense, too much proper +appreciation of what was due to her position, and to the family! +No sc..., he was going to say 'scandal' but the very idea was so +preposterous that he waved his hand as though to say--'but let +that pass!' + +Granted that Swithin took a bachelor's view of the situation-- +still what indeed was not due to that family in which so many had +done so well for themselves, had attained a certain position? If +he had heard in dark, pessimistic moments the words 'yeomen' and +'very small beer' used in connection with his origin, did he +believe them? + +No! he cherished, hugging it pathetically to his bosom, the +secret theory that there was something distinguished somewhere in +his ancestry. + +"Must be," he once said to young Jolyon, before the latter went +to the bad. "Look at us, we've got on! There must be good blood +in us somewhere." + +He had been fond of young Jolyon: the boy had been in a good set +at College, had, known that old ruffian Sir Charles Fiste's +sons--a pretty rascal one of them had turned out, too; and there +was style about him--it was a thousand pities he had run off with +that half-foreign governess! If he must go off like that why +couldn't he have chosen someone who would have done them credit! +And what was he now?--an underwriter at Lloyd's; they said he +even painted pictures--pictures! Damme! he might have ended as +Sir Jolyon Forsyte, Bart., with a seat in Parliament, and a place +in the country! + +It was Swithin who, following the impulse which sooner or later +urges thereto some member of every great family, went to the +Heralds' Office, where they assured him that he was undoubtedly +of the same family as the well-known Forsites with an 'i,' whose +arms were 'three dexter buckles on a sable ground gules,' hoping +no doubt to get him to take them up. + +Swithin, however, did not do this, but having ascertained that +the crest was a 'pheasant proper,' and the motto 'For Forsite,' +he had the pheasant proper placed upon his carriage and the +buttons of his coachman, and both crest and motto on his +writing-paper. The arms he hugged to himself, partly because, +not having paid for them, he thought it would look ostentatious +to put them on his carriage, and he hated ostentation, and partly +because he, like any practical man all over the country, had a +secret dislike and contempt for things he could not understand he +found it hard, as anyone might, to swallow 'three dexter buckles +on a sable ground gules.' + +He never forgot, however, their having told him that if he paid +for them he would be entitled to use them, and it strengthened +his conviction that he was a gentleman. Imperceptibly the rest +of the family absorbed the 'pheasant proper,' and some, more +serious than others, adopted the motto; old Jolyon, however, +refused to use the latter, saying that it was humbug meaning +nothing, so far as he could see. + +Among the older generation it was perhaps known at bottom from +what great historical event they derived their crest; and if +pressed on the subject, sooner than tell a lie--they did not like +telling lies, having an impression that only Frenchmen and +Russians told them--they would confess hurriedly that Swithin had +got hold of it somehow. + +Among the younger generation the matter was wrapped in a +discretion proper. They did not want to hurt the feelings of +their elders, nor to feel ridiculous themselves; they simply used +the crest.... + +"No," said Swithin, "he had had an opportunity of seeing for +himself, and what he should say was, that there was nothing in +her manner to that young Buccaneer or Bosinney or whatever his +name was, different from her manner to himself; in fact, he +should rather say...." But here the entrance of Frances +and Euphemia put an unfortunate stop to the conversation, for +this was not a subject which could be discussed before young +people. + +And though Swithin was somewhat upset at being stopped like this +on the point of saying something important, he soon recovered his +affability. He was rather fond of Frances--Francie, as she was +called in the family. She was so smart, and they told him she +made a pretty little pot of pin-money by her songs; he called it +very clever of her. + +He rather prided himself indeed on a liberal attitude towards +women, not seeing any reason why they shouldn't paint pictures, +or write tunes, or books even, for the matter of that, especially +if they could turn a useful penny by it; not at all--kept them +out of mischief. It was not as if they were men! + +'Little Francie,' as she was usually called with good-natured +contempt, was an important personage, if only as a standing +illustration of the attitude of Forsytes towards the Arts. She +was not really 'little,' but rather tall, with dark hair for a +Forsyte, which, together with a grey eye, gave her what was +called 'a Celtic appearance.' She wrote songs with titles like +'Breathing Sighs,' or 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die,' with a +refrain like an anthem: + + +'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die; +Kiss me-kiss me, Mother, ah! +Kiss, ah! kiss me e-ere I- +Kiss me, Mother, ere I d-d-die!' + + +She wrote the words to them herself, and other poems. In lighter +moments she wrote waltzes, one of which, the 'Kensington Coil,' +was almost national to Kensington, having a sweet dip in it. + +It was very original. Then there were her 'Songs for Little +People,' at once educational and witty, especially 'Gran'ma's +Porgie,' and that ditty, almost prophetically imbued with the +coming Imperial spirit, entitled 'Black him in his little eye.' + +Any publisher would take these, and reviews like 'High Living,' +and the 'Ladies' Genteel Guide' went into raptures over: 'Another +of Miss Francie Forsyte's spirited ditties, sparkling and +pathetic. We ourselves were moved to tears and laughter. Miss +Forsyte should go far.' + +With the true instinct of her breed, Francie had made a point of +knowing the right people--people who would write about her, and +talk about her, and people in Society, too--keeping a mental +register of just where to exert her fascinations, and an eye on +that steady scale of rising prices, which in her mind's eye +represented the future. In this way she caused herself to be +universally respected. + +Once, at a time when her emotions were whipped by an attachment-- +for the tenor of Roger's life, with its whole-hearted collection +of house property, had induced in his only daughter a tendency +towards passion--she turned to great and sincere work, choosing +the sonata form, for the violin. This was the only one of her +productions that troubled the Forsytes. They felt at once that +it would not sell. + +Roger, who liked having a clever daughter well enough, and often +alluded to the amount of pocket-money she made for herself, was +upset by this violin sonata. + +"Rubbish like that!" he called it. Francie had borrowed young +Flageoletti from Euphemia, to play it in the drawing-room at +Prince's Gardens. + +As a matter of fact Roger was right. It was rubbish, but-- +annoying! the sort of rubbish that wouldn't sell. As every +Forsyte knows, rubbish that sells is not rubbish at all--far from +it. + +And yet, in spite of the sound common sense which fixed the worth +of art at what it would fetch, some of the Forsytes--Aunt +Hester, for instance, who had always been musical--could not help +regretting that Francie's music was not 'classical'; the same +with her poems. But then, as Aunt Hester said, they didn't see +any poetry nowadays, all the poems were 'little light things.' + +There was nobody who could write a poem like 'Paradise Lost,' or +'Childe Harold'; either of which made you feel that you really +had read something. Still, it was nice for Francie to have +something to occupy her; while other girls were spending money +shopping she was making it! + +And both Aunt Hester and Aunt Juley were always ready to listen +to the latest story of how Francie had got her price increased. + +They listened now, together with Swithin, who sat pretending not +to, for these young people talked so fast and mumbled so, he +never could catch what they said. + +"And I can't think," said Mrs. Septimus, "how you do it. I +should never have the audacity!" + +Francie smiled lightly. "I'd much rather deal with a man than a +woman. Women are so sharp!" + +"My dear," cried Mrs. Small, "I'm sure we're not." + +Euphemia went off into her silent laugh, and, ending with the +squeak, said, as though being strangled: "Oh, you'll kill me some +day, auntie." + +Swithin saw no necessity to laugh; he detested people laughing +when he himself perceived no joke. Indeed, he detested Euphemia +altogether, to whom he always alluded as 'Nick's daughter, what's +she called--the pale one?' He had just missed being her god- +father--indeed, would have been, had he not taken a firm stand +against her outlandish name. He hated becoming a godfather. +Swithin then said to Francie with dignity: "It's a fine day-- +er--for the time of year." But Euphemia, who knew perfectly well +that he had refused to be her godfather, turned to Aunt Hester, +and began telling her how she had seen Irene--Mrs. Soames--at the +Church and Commercial Stores. + +"And Soames was with her?" said Aunt Hester, to whom Mrs. Small +had as yet had no opportunity of relating the incident. + +"Soames with her? Of course not!" + +"But was she all alone in London?" + +"Oh, no; there was Mr. Bosinney with her. She was perfectly +dressed." + +But Swithin, hearing the name Irene, looked severely at Euphemia, +who, it is true, never did look well in a dress, whatever she may +have done on other occasions, and said: + +"Dressed like a lady, I've no doubt. It's a pleasure to see +her." + +At this moment James and his daughters were announced. Dartie, +feeling badly in want of a drink, had pleaded an appointment with +his dentist, and, being put down at the Marble Arch, had got into +a hansom, and was already seated in the window of his club in +Piccadilly. + +His wife, he told his cronies, had wanted to take him to pay some +calls. It was not in his line--not exactly. Haw! + +Hailing the waiter, he sent him out to the hall to see what had +won the 4.30 race. He was dog-tired, he said, and that was a +fact; had been drivin' about with his wife to 'shows' all the + +afternoon. Had put his foot down at last. A fellow must live +his own life. + +At this moment, glancing out of the bay window--for he loved this +seat whence he could see everybody pass--his eye unfortunately, +or perhaps fortunately, chanced to light on the figure of Soames, +who was mousing across the road from the Green Park-side, with +the evident intention of coming in, for he, too, belonged to 'The +Iseeum.' + +Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered +something about 'that 4.30 race,' and swiftly withdrew to the +card-room, where Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation +and a dim light, he lived his own life till half past seven, by +which hour he knew Soames must certainly have left the club. + +It would not do, as he kept repeating to himself whenever he felt +the impulse to join the gossips in the bay-window getting too +strong for him--it absolutely would not do, with finances as low +as his, and the 'old man' (James) rusty ever since that business +over the oil shares, which was no fault of his, to risk a row +with Winifred. + +If Soames were to see him in the club it would be sure to come +round to her that he wasn't at the dentist's at all. He never +knew a family where things 'came round' so. Uneasily, amongst +the green baize card-tables, a frown on his olive coloured face, +his check trousers crossed, and patent-leather boots shining +through the gloom, he sat biting his forefinger, and wondering +where the deuce he was to get the money if Erotic failed to win +the Lancashire Cup. + +His thoughts turned gloomily to the Forsytes. What a set they +were! There was no getting anything out of them--at least, it +was a matter of extreme difficulty. They were so d---d +particular about money matters; not a sportsman amongst the lot, +unless it were George. That fellow Soames, for instance, would +have a ft if you tried to borrow a tenner from him, or, if he +didn't have a fit, he looked at you with his cursed supercilious +smile, as if you were a lost soul because you were in want of +money. + +And that wife of his (Dartie's mouth watered involuntarily), he +had tried to be on good terms with her, as one naturally would +with any pretty sister-in-law, but he would be cursed if the (he +mentally used a coarse word)--would have anything to say to him-- +she looked at him, indeed, as if he were dirt--and yet she could +go far enough, he wouldn't mind betting. He knew women; they +weren't made with soft eyes and figures like that for nothing, as +that fellow Soames would jolly soon find out, if there were +anything in what he had heard about this Buccaneer Johnny. + +Rising from his chair, Dartie took a turn across the room, ending +in front of the looking-glass over the marble chimney-piece; and +there he stood for a long time contemplating in the glass the +reflection of his face. It had that look, peculiar to some men, +of having been steeped in linseed oil, with its waxed dark +moustaches and the little distinguished commencements of side +whiskers; and concernedly he felt the promise of a pimple on the +side of his slightly curved and fattish nose. + +In the meantime old Jolyon had found the remaining chair in +Timothy's commodious drawing-room. His advent had obviously put +a stop to the conversation, decided awkwardness having set in. +Aunt Juley, with her well-known kindheartedness, hastened to set +people at their ease again. + +"Yes, Jolyon," she said, "we were just saying that you haven't +been here for a long time; but we mustn't be surprised. You're +busy, of course? James was just saying what a busy time of +year...." + +"Was he?" said old Jolyon, looking hard at James. "It wouldn't +be half so busy if everybody minded their own business." + +James, brooding in a small chair from which his knees ran uphill, +shifted his feet uneasily, and put one of them down on the cat, +which had unwisely taken refuge from old Jolyon beside him. + +"Here, you've got a cat here," he said in an injured voice, +withdrawing his foot nervously as he felt it squeezing into the +soft, furry body. + +"Several," said old Jolyon, looking at one face and another; "I +trod on one just now." + +A silence followed. + +Then Mrs. Small, twisting her fingers and gazing round with +'pathetic calm, asked: "And how is dear June?" + +A twinkle of humour shot through the sternness of old Jolyon's +eyes. Extraordinary old woman, Juley! No one quite like her for +saying the wrong thing! + +"Bad!" he said; "London don't agree with her--too many people +about, too much clatter and chatter by half." He laid emphasis on +the words, and again looked James in the face. + +Nobody spoke. + +A feeling of its being too dangerous to take a step in any +direction, or hazard any remark, had fallen on them all. +Something of the sense of the impending, that comes over the +spectator of a Greek tragedy, had entered that upholstered room, +filled with those white-haired, frockcoated old men, and +fashionably attired women, who were all of the same blood, +between all of whom existed an unseizable resemblance. + +Not that they were conscious of it--the visits of such fateful, +bitter spirits are only felt. + +Then Swithin rose. He would not sit there, feeling like that--he +was not to be put down by anyone! And, manoeuvring round the +room with added pomp, he shook hands with each separately. + +"You tell Timothy from me," he said, "that he coddles himself too +much!" Then, turning to Francie, whom he considered 'smart,' he +added: "You come with me for a drive one of these days." But this +conjured up the vision of that other eventful drive which had +been so much talked about, and he stood quite still for a second, +with glassy eyes, as though waiting to catch up with the +significance of what he himself had said; then, suddenly +recollecting that he didn't care a damn, he turned to old Jolyon: +"Well, good-bye, Jolyon! You shouldn't go about without an +overcoat; you'll be getting sciatica or something!" And, kicking +the cat slightly with the pointed tip of his patent leather boot, +he took his huge form away. + +When he had gone everyone looked secretly at the others, to see +how they had taken the mention of the word 'drive'--the word +which had become famous, and acquired an overwhelming importance, +as the only official--so to speak--news in connection with the +vague and sinister rumour clinging to the family tongue. + +Euphemia, yielding to an impulse, said with a short laugh: "I'm +glad Uncle Swithin doesn't ask me to go for drives." + +Mrs. Small, to reassure her and smooth over any little +awkwardness the subject might have, replied: "My dear, he likes +to take somebody well dressed, who will do him a little credit. +I shall never forget the drive he took me. It was an +experience!" And her chubby round old face was spread for a +moment with a strange contentment; then broke into pouts, and +tears came into her eyes. She was thinking of that long ago +driving tour she had once taken with Septimus Small. + +James, who had relapsed into his nervous brooding in the little +chair, suddenly roused himself: "He's a funny fellow, Swithin," +he said, but in a half-hearted way. + +Old Jolyon's silence, his stern eyes, held them all in a kind of +paralysis. He was disconcerted himself by the effect of his own +words--an effect which seemed to deepen the importance of the +very rumour he had come to scotch; but he was still angry. + +He had not done with them yet--No, no--he would give them another +rub or two + +He did not wish to rub his nieces, he had no quarrel with them--a +young and presentable female always appealed to old Jolyon's +clemency--but that fellow James, and, in a less degree perhaps, +those others, deserved all they would get. And he, too, asked +for Timothy. + +As though feeling that some danger threatened her younger +brother, Aunt Juley suddenly offered him tea: "There it is," she +said, "all cold and nasty, waiting for you in the back drawing +room, but Smither shall make you some fresh." + +Old Jolyon rose: "Thank you," he said, looking straight at James, +"but I've no time for tea, and--scandal, and the rest of it! +It's time I was at home. Good-bye, Julia; good-bye, Hester; +good-bye, Winifred." + +Without more ceremonious adieux, he marched out. + +Once again in his cab, his anger evaporated, for so it ever was +with his wrath--when he had rapped out, it was gone. Sadness +came over his spirit. He had stopped their mouths, maybe, but at +what a cost! At the cost of certain knowledge that the rumour he +had been resolved not to believe was true. June was abandoned, +and for the wife of that fellow's son! He felt it was true, and +hardened himself to treat it as if it were not; but the pain he +hid beneath this resolution began slowly, surely, to vent itself +in a blind resentment against James and his son. + +The six women and one man left behind in the little drawing-room +began talking as easily as might be after such an occurrence, for +though each one of them knew for a fact that he or she never +talked scandal, each one of them also knew that the other six +did; all were therefore angry and at a loss. James only was +silent, disturbed, to the bottom of his soul. + +Presently Francie said: "Do you know, I think Uncle Jolyon is +terribly changed this last year. What do you think, Aunt +Hester?" + +Aunt Hester made a little movement of recoil: "Oh, ask your Aunt +Julia!" she said; "I know nothing about it." + +No one else was afraid of assenting, and James muttered gloomily +at the floor: "He's not half the man he was." + +"I've noticed it a long time," went on Francie; "he's aged +tremendously." + +Aunt Juley shook her head; her face seemed suddenly to have +become one immense pout. + +"Poor dear Jolyon," she said, "somebody ought to see to it for +him!" + +There was again silence; then, as though in terror of being left +solitarily behind, all five visitors rose simultaneously, and +took their departure. + +Mrs. Small, Aunt Hester, and their cat were left once more alone, +the sound of a door closing in the distance announced the +approach of Timothy. + +That evening, when Aunt Hester had just got off to sleep in the +back bedroom that used to be Aunt Juley's before Aunt Juley took +Aunt Ann's, her door was opened, and Mrs. Small, in a pink +night-cap, a candle in her hand, entered: "Hester!" she said. +"Hester!" + +Aunt Hester faintly rustled the sheet. + +"Hester," repeated Aunt Juley, to make quite sure that she had +awakened her, "I am quite troubled about poor dear Jolyon. +What," Aunt Juley dwelt on the word, "do you think ought to be +done?" + +Aunt Hester again rustled the sheet, her voice was heard faintly +pleading: "Done? How should I know?" + +Aunt Juley turned away satisfied, and closing the door with extra +gentleness so as not to disturb dear Hester, let it slip through +her fingers and fall to with a 'crack.' + +Back in her own room, she stood at the window gazing at the moon +over the trees in the Park, through a chink in the muslin +curtains, close drawn lest anyone should see. And there, with +her face all round and pouting in its pink cap, and her eyes wet, +she thought of 'dear Jolyon,' so old and so lonely, and how she +could be of some use to him; and how he would come to love her, +as she had never been loved since--since poor Septimus went away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DANCE AT ROGER'S + + +Roger's house in Prince's Gardens was brilliantly alight. Large +numbers of wax candles had been collected and placed in cut-glass +chandeliers, and the parquet floor of the long, double +drawing-room reflected these constellations. An appearance of +real spaciousness had been secured by moving out all the +furniture on to the upper landings, and enclosing the room with +those strange appendages of civilization known as 'rout' seats. +In a remote corner, embowered in palms, was a cottage piano, with +a copy of the 'Kensington Coil' open on the music-stand. + +Roger had objected to a band. He didn't see in the least what +they wanted with a band; he wouldn't go to the expense, and there +was an end of it. Francie (her mother, whom Roger had long since +reduced to chronic dyspepsia, went to bed on such occasions), had +been obliged to content herself with supplementing the piano by a +young man who played the cornet, and she so arranged with palms +that anyone who did not look into the heart of things might +imagine there were several musicians secreted there. She made up +her mind to tell them to play loud--there was a lot of music in a +cornet, if the man would only put his soul into it. + +In the more cultivated American tongue, she was 'through' at +last--through that tortuous labyrinth of make-shifts, which must +be traversed before fashionable display can be combined with the +sound economy of a Forsyte. Thin but brilliant, in her +maize-coloured frock with much tulle about the shoulders, she +went from place to place, fitting on her gloves, and casting her +eye over it all. + +To the hired butler (for Roger only kept maids) she spoke about +the wine. Did he quite understand that Mr. Forsyte wished a +dozen bottles of the champagne from Whiteley's to be put out? +But if that were finished (she did not suppose it would be, most +of the ladies would drink water, no doubt), but if it were, there +was the champagne cup, and he must do the best he could with +that. + +She hated having to say this sort of thing to a butler, it was so +infra dig.; but what could you do with father? Roger, indeed, +after making himself consistently disagreeable about the dance, +would come down presently, with his fresh colour and bumpy + +forehead, as though he had been its promoter; and he would smile, +and probably take the prettiest woman in to supper; and at two +o'clock, just as they were getting into the swing, he would go up +secretly to the musicians and tell them to play 'God Save the +Queen,' and go away. + +Francie devoutly hoped he might soon get tired, and slip off to +bed. + +The three or four devoted girl friends who were staying in the +house for this dance, had partaken with her, in a small, +abandoned room upstairs, of tea and cold chicken-legs, hurriedly +served; the men had been sent out to dine at Eustace's Club, it +being felt that they must be fed up. + +Punctually on the stroke of nine arrived Mrs. Small alone. She +made elaborate apologies for the absence of Timothy, omitting all +mention of Aunt Hester, who, at the last minute, had said she +could not be bothered. Francie received her effusively, and +placed her on a rout seat, where she left her, pouting and +solitary in lavender-coloured satin--the first time she had worn +colour since Aunt Ann's death. + +The devoted maiden friends came now from their rooms, each by +magic arrangement in a differently coloured frock, but all with +the same liberal allowance of tulle on the shoulders and at the +bosom--for they were, by some fatality, lean to a girl. They +were all taken up to Mrs. Small. None stayed with her more than +a few seconds, but clustering together talked and twisted their +programmes, looking secretly at the door for the first appearance +of a man. + +Then arrived in a group a number of Nicholases, always punctual-- +the fashion up Ladbroke Grove way; and close behind them Eustace +and his men, gloomy and smelling rather of smoke. + +Three or four of Francie's lovers now appeared, one after the +other; she had made each promise to come early. They were all +clean-shaven and sprightly, with that peculiar kind of young-man +sprightliness which had recently invaded Kensington; they did not +seem to mind each other's presence in the least, and wore their +ties bunching out at the ends, white waistcoats, and socks with +clocks. All had handkerchiefs concealed in their cuffs. They +moved buoyantly, each armoured in professional gaiety, as though +he had come to do great deeds. Their faces when they danced, far +from wearing the traditional solemn look of the dancing, English- +man, were irresponsible, charming, suave; they bounded, twirling +their partners at great pace, without pedantic attentionto the +rhythm of the music. + +At other dancers they looked with a kind of airy scorn--they, the +light brigade, the heroes of a hundred Kensington 'hops'--from +whom alone could the right manner and smile and step be hoped. + +After this the stream came fast; chaperones silting up along the +wall facing the entrance, the volatile element swelling the eddy +in the larger room. + +Men were scarce, and wallflowers wore their peculiar, pathetic +expression, a patient, sourish smile which seemed to say: "Oh, +no! don't mistake me, I know you are not coming up to me. I can +hardly expect that!" And Francie would plead with one of her +lovers, or with some callow youth: "Now, to please me, do let me +introduce you to Miss Pink; such a nice girl, really!" and she +would bring him up, and say: "Miss Pink--Mr. Gathercole. Can you +spare him a dance?" Then Miss Pink, smiling her forced smile, +colouring a little, answered: "Oh! I think so!" and screening +her empty card, wrote on it the name of Gathercole, spelling it +passionately in the district that he proposed, about the second +extra. + +But when the youth had murmured that it was hot, and passed, she +relapsed into her attitude of hopeless expectation, into her +patient, sourish smile. + +Mothers, slowly fanning their faces, watched their daughters, and +in their eyes could be read all the story of those daughters' +fortunes. As for themselves, to sit hour after hour, dead tired, +silent, or talking spasmodically--what did it matter, so long as +the girls were having a good time! But to see them neglected and +passed by! Ah! they smiled, but their eyes stabbed like the +eyes of an offended swan; they longed to pluck young, Gathercole +by the slack of his dandified breeches, and drag him to their +daughters--the jackanapes! + +And all the cruelties and hardness of life, its pathos and +unequal chances, its conceit, self-forgetfulness, and patience, +were presented on the battle-field of this Kensington ball-room. + +Here and there, too, lovers--not lovers like Francie's, a +peculiar breed, but simply lovers--trembling, blushing, silent, +sought each other by flying glances, sought to meet and touch in +the mazes of the dance, and now and again dancing together, +struck some beholder by the light in their eyes. + +Not a second before ten o'clock came the Jameses--Emily, Rachel, +Winifred (Dartie had been left behind, having on a former +occasion drunk too much of Roger's champagne), and Cicely, the +youngest, making her debut; behind them, following in a hansom +from the paternal mansion where they had dined, Soames and Irene. + +All these ladies had shoulder-straps and no tulle--thus showing +at once, by a bolder exposure of flesh, that they came from the +more fashionable side of the Park. + +Soames, sidling back from the contact of the dancers, took up a +position against the wall. Guarding himself with his pale smile, +he stood watching. Waltz after waltz began and ended, couple +after couple brushed by with smiling lips, laughter, and snatches +of talk; or with set lips, and eyes searching the throng; or +again, with silent, parted lips, and eyes on each other. And the +scent of festivity, the odour of flowers, and hair, of essences +that women love, rose suffocatingly in the heat of the summer +night. + +Silent, with something of scorn in his smile, Soames seemed to +notice nothing; but now and again his eyes, finding that which +they sought, would fix themselves on a point in the shifting +throng, and the smile die off his lips. + +He danced with no one. Some fellows danced with their wives; his +sense of 'form' had never permitted him to dance with Irene since +their marriage, and the God of the Forsytes alone can tell +whether this was a relief to him or not. + +She passed, dancing with other men, her dress, iris-coloured, +floating away from her feet. She danced well; he was tired of +hearing women say with an acid smile: "How beautifully your wife +dances, Mr. Forsyte--it's quite a pleasure to watch her!" Tired +of answering them with his sidelong glance: "You think so?" + +A young couple close by flirted a fan by turns, making an +unpleasant draught. Francie and one of her lovers stood near. +They were talking of love. + +He heard Roger's voice behind, giving an order about supper to a +servant. Everything was very second-class! He wished that he +had not come! He had asked Irene whether she wanted him; she had +answered with that maddening smile of hers "Oh, no!" + +Why had he come? For the last quarter of an hour he had not even +seen her. Here was George advancing with his Quilpish face; it +was too late to get out of his way. + +"Have you seen 'The Buccaneer'?" said this licensed wag; "he's on +the warpath--hair cut and everything!" + +Soames said he had not, and crossing the room, half-empty in an +interval of the dance, he went out on the balcony, and looked +down into the street. + +A carriage had driven up with late arrivals, and round the door +hung some of those patient watchers of the London streets who +spring up to the call of light or music; their faces, pale and +upturned above their black and rusty figures, had an air of +stolid watching that annoyed Soames. Why were they allowed to +hang about; why didn't the bobby move them on? + +But the policeman took no notice of them; his feet were planted +apart on the strip of crimson carpet stretched across the +pavement; his face, under the helmet, wore the same stolid, +watching look as theirs. + +Across the road, through the railings, Soames could see the +branches of trees shining, faintly stirring in the breeze, by the +gleam of the street lamps; beyond, again, the upper lights of the +houses on the other side, so many eyes looking down on the quiet +blackness of the garden; and over all, the sky, that wonderful +London sky, dusted with the innumerable reflection of countless +lamps; a dome woven over between its stars with the refraction of +human needs and human fancies--immense mirror of pomp and misery +that night after night stretches its kindly mocking over miles of +houses and gardens, mansions and squalor, over Forsytes, +policemen, and patient watchers in the streets. + +Soames turned away, and, hidden in the recess, gazed into the +lighted room. It was cooler out there. He saw the new arrivals, +June and her grandfather, enter. What had made them so late? +They stood by the doorway. They looked fagged. Fancy Uncle +Jolyon turning out at this time of night! Why hadn't June come +to Irene, as she usually did, and it occurred to him suddenly +that he had seen nothing of June for a long time now. + +Watching her face with idle malice, he saw it change, grow so +pale that he thought she would drop, then flame out crimson. +Turning to see at what she was looking, he saw his wife on +Bosinney's arm, coming from the conservatory at the end of the +room. Her eyes were raised to his, as though answering some +question he had asked, and he was gazing at her intently. + +Soames looked again at June. Her hand rested on old Jolyon's +arm; she seemed to be making a request. He saw a surprised look +on his uncle's face; they turned and passed through the door out +of his sight. + +The music began again--a waltz--and, still as a statue in the +recess of the window, his face unmoved, but no smile on his lips, +Soames waited. Presently, within a yard of the dark balcony, his +wife and Bosinney passed. He caught the perfume of the gardenias +that she wore, saw the rise and fall of her bosom, the languor in +her eyes, her parted lips, and a look on her face that he did not +know. To the slow, swinging measure they danced by, and it +seemed to him that they clung to each other; he saw her raise her +eyes, soft and dark, to Bosinney's, and drop them again. + +Very white, he turned back to the balcony, and leaning on it, +gazed down on the Square; the figures were still there looking up +at the light with dull persistency, the policeman's face, too, +upturned, and staring, but he saw nothing of them. Below, a +carriage drew up, two figures got in, and drove away.... + +That evening June and old Jolyon sat down to dinner at the usual +hour. The girl was in her customary high-necked frock, old +Jolyon had not dressed. + +At breakfast she had spoken of the dance at Uncle Roger's, she +wanted to go; she had been stupid enough, she said, not to think +of asking anyone to take her. It was too late now. + +Old Jolyon lifted his keen eyes. June was used to go to dances +with Irene as a matter of course! And deliberately fixing his +gaze on her, he asked: "Why don't you get Irene?" + +No! June did not want to ask Irene; she would only go if--if her +grandfather wouldn't mind just for once for a little time! + +At her look, so eager and so worn, old Jolyon had grumblingly +consented. He did not know what she wanted, he said, with going +to a dance like this, a poor affair, he would wager; and she no +more fit for it than a cat! What she wanted was sea air, and +after his general meeting of the Globular Gold Concessions he was +ready to take her. She didn't want to go away? Ah! she would +knock herself up! Stealing a mournful look at her, he went on +with his breakfast. + +June went out early, and wandered restlessly about in the heat. +Her little light figure that lately had moved so languidly about +its business, was all on fire. She bought herself some flowers. +She wanted--she meant to look her best. He would be there! She +knew well enough that he had a card. She would show him that she +did not care. But deep down in her heart she resolved that +evening to win him back. She came in flushed, and talked +brightly all lunch; old Jolyon was there, and he was deceived. + +In the afternoon she was overtaken by a desperate fit of sobbing. +She strangled the noise against the pillows of her bed, but when +at last it ceased she saw in the glass a swollen face with +reddened eyes, and violet circles round them. She stayed in the +darkened room till dinner time. + +All through that silent meal the struggle went on within her. + +She looked so shadowy and exhausted that old Jolyon told 'Sankey' +to countermand the carriage, he would not have her going out.... +She was to go to bed! She made no resistance. She went up to +her room, and sat in the dark. At ten o'clock she rang for her +maid. + +"Bring some hot water, and go down and tell Mr. Forsyte that I +feel perfectly rested. Say that if he's too tired I can go to +the dance by myself." + +The maid looked askance, and June turned on her imperiously. +"Go," she said, "bring the hot water at once!" + +Her ball-dress still lay on the sofa, and with a sort of fierce +care she arrayed herself, took the flowers in her hand, and went +down, her small face carried high under its burden of hair. She +could hear old Jolyon in his room as she passed. + +Bewildered and vexed, he was dressing. It was past ten, they +would not get there till eleven; the girl was mad. But he dared +not cross her the expression of her face at dinner haunted him. + +With great ebony brushes he smoothed his hair till it shone like +silver under the light; then he, too, came out on the gloomy +staircase. + +June met him below, and, without a word, they went to the +carriage. + +When, after that drive which seemed to last for ever, she entered +Roger's drawing-room, she disguised under a mask of resolution a +very torment of nervousness and emotion. The feeling of shame at +what might be called 'running after him' was smothered by the +dread that he might not be there, that she might not see him +after all, and by that dogged resolve--somehow, she did not know +how--to win him back. + +The sight of the ballroom, with its gleaming floor, gave her a +feeling of joy, of triumph, for she loved dancing, and when +dancing she floated, so light was she, like a strenuous, eager +little spirit. He would surely ask her to dance, and if he +danced with her it would all be as it was before. She looked +about her eagerly. + +The sight of Bosinney coming with Irene from the conservatory, +with that strange look of utter absorption on his face, struck +her too suddenly. They had not seen--no one should see--her +distress, not even her grandfather. + +She put her hand on Jolyon's arm, and said very low: + +"I must go home, Gran; I feel ill." + +He hurried her away, grumbling to himself that he had known how +it would be. + +To her he said nothing; only when they were once more in the +carriage, which by some fortunate chance had lingered near the +door, he asked her: "What is it, my darling?" + +Feeling her whole slender body shaken by sobs, he was terribly +alarmed. She must have Blank to-morrow. He would insist upon +it. He could not have her like this.... There, there! + +June mastered her sobs, and squeezing his hand feverishly, she +lay back in her corner, her face muffled in a shawl. + +He could only see her eyes, fixed and staring in the dark, but he +did not cease to stroke her hand with his thin fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVENING AT RICHMOND + + +Other eyes besides the eyes of June and of Soames had seen 'those +two' (as Euphemia had already begun to call them) coming from the +conservatory; other eyes had noticed the look on Bosinney's face. + +There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath +the careless calm of her ordinary moods--violent spring flashing +white on almond-blossom through the purple clouds; a snowy, +moonlit peak, with its single star, soaring up to the passionate +blue; or against the flames of sunset, an old yew-tree standing +dark guardian of some fiery secret. + +There are moments, too, when in a picture-gallery, a work, noted +by the casual spectator as '......Titian--remarkably fine,' +breaks through the defences of some Forsyte better lunched +perhaps than his fellows, and holds him spellbound in a kind of +ecstasy. There are things, he feels--there are things here +which--well, which are things. Something unreasoning, +unreasonable, is upon him; when he tries to define it with the +precision of a practical man, it eludes him, slips away, as the +glow of the wine he has drunk is slipping away, leaving him +cross, and conscious of his liver. He feels that he has been +extravagant, prodigal of something; virtue has gone out of him. +He did not desire this glimpse of what lay under the three stars +of his catalogue. God forbid that he should know anything about +the forces of Nature! God forbid that he should admit for a +moment that there are such things! Once admit that, and where +was he? One paid a shilling for entrance, and another for the +programme. + +The look which June had seen, which other Forsytes had seen, was +like the sudden flashing of a candle through a hole in some +imaginary canvas, behind which it was being moved--the sudden +flaming-out of a vague, erratic glow, shadowy and enticing. It +brought home to onlookers the consciousness that dangerous forces +were at work. For a moment they noticed it with pleasure, with +interest, then felt they must not notice it at all. + +It supplied, however, the reason of June's coming so late and +disappearing again without dancing, without even shaking hands +with her lover. She was ill, it was said, and no wonder. + +But here they looked at each other guiltily. They had no desire +to spread scandal, no desire to be ill-natured. Who would have? +And to outsiders no word was breathed, unwritten law keeping them +silent. + +Then came the news that June had gone to the seaside with old +Jolyon. + +He had carried her off to Broadstairs, for which place there was +just then a feeling, Yarmouth having lost caste, in spite of +Nicholas, and no Forsyte going to the sea without intending to +have an air for his money such as would render him bilious in a +week. That fatally aristocratic tendency of the first Forsyte to +drink Madeira had left his descendants undoubtedly accessible. + +So June went to the sea. The family awaited developments; there +was nothing else to do. + +But how far--how far had 'those two' gone? How far were they +going to go? Could they really be going at all? Nothing could +surely come of it, for neither of them had any money. At the +most a flirtation, ending, as all such attachments should, at the +proper time. + +Soames' sister, Winifred Dartie, who had imbibed with the breezes +of Mayfair--she lived in Green Street--more fashionable +principles in regard to matrimonial behaviour than were current, +for instance, in Ladbroke Grove, laughed at the idea of there +being anything in it. The 'little thing'--Irene was taller than +herself, and it was real testimony to the solid worth of a +Forsyte that she should always thus be a 'little thing'--the +little thing was bored. Why shouldn't she amuse herself? Soames +was rather tiring; and as to Mr. Bosinney--only that buffoon +George would have called him the Buccaneer--she maintained that +he was very chic. + +This dictum--that Bosinney was chic--caused quit a sensation. It +failed to convince. That he was 'good-looking in a way' they +were prepared to admit, but that anyone could call a man with his +pronounced cheekbones, curious eyes, arid soft felt hats chic was +only another instance of Winifred's extravagant way of running +after something new. + +It was that famous summer when extravagance was fashionable, when +the very earth was extravagant, chestnut-trees spread with +blossom, and flowers drenched in perfume, as they had never been +before; when roses blew in every garden; and for the swarming +stars the nights had hardly space; when every day and all day +long the sun, in full armour, swung his brazen shield above the +Park, and people did strange things, lunching and dining in the +open air. Unprecedented was the tale of cabs and carriages that +streamed across the bridges of the shining river, bearing the +upper-middle class in thousands to the green glories of Bushey, +Richmond, Kew, and Hampton Court. Almost every family with any +pretensions to be of the carriage-class paid one visit that year +to the horse-chestnuts at Bushey, or took one drive amongst the +Spanish chestnuts of Richmond Park. Bowling smoothly, if +dustily, along, in a cloud of their own creation, they would +stare fashionably at the antlered heads which the great slow deer +raised out of a forest of bracken that promised to autumn lovers +such cover as was never seen before. And now and again, as the +amorous perfume of chestnut flowers and of fern was drifted too +near, one would say to the other: "My dear! What a peculiar +scent!" + +And the lime-flowers that year were of rare prime, near +honey-coloured. At the corners of London squares they gave out, +as the sun went down, a perfume sweeter than the honey bees had +taken--a perfume that stirred a yearning unnamable in the hearts +of Forsytes and their peers, taking the cool after dinner in the +precincts of those gardens to which they alone had keys. + +And that yearning made them linger amidst the dim shapes of +flower-beds in the failing daylight, made them turn, and turn, +and turn again, as though lovers were waiting for them--waiting +for the last light to die away under the shadow of the branches. + +Some vague sympathy evoked by the scent of the limes, some +sisterly desire to see for herself, some idea of demonstrating +the soundness of her dictum that there was 'nothing in it'; or +merely the craving to drive down to Richmond, irresistible that +summer, moved the mother of the little Darties (of little + +Publius, of Imogen, Maud, and Benedict) to write the following +note to her sister-in-law: + + +'DEAR IRENE, +'June 30. + +'I hear that Soames is going to Henley tomorrow for the night. I +thought it would be great fun if we made up a little party and +drove down to, Richmond. Will you ask Mr. Bosinney, and I will +get young Flippard. + +'Emily (they called their mother Emily--it was so chic) will lend +us the carriage. I will call for you and your young man at seven +o'clock. + +'Your affectionate sister, + +'WINIFRED DARTIE. + +'Montague believes the dinner at the Crown and Sceptre to be +quite eatable.' + + +Montague was Dartie's second and better known name--his first +being Moses; for he was nothing if not a man of the world. + +Her plan met with more opposition from Providence than so +benevolent a scheme deserved. In the first place young Flippard +wrote: + + +'DEAR Mrs. DARTIE, + +'Awfully sorry. Engaged two deep. + +'Yours, + +'AUGUSTUS FLIPPARD.' + + +It was late to send into the byeways and hedges to remedy this +misfortune. With the promptitude and conduct of a mother, +Winifred fell back on her husband. She had, indeed, the decided +but tolerant temperament that goes with a good deal of profile, +fair hair, and greenish eyes. She was seldom or never at a loss; +or if at a loss, was always able to convert it into a gain. + +Dartie, too, was in good feather. Erotic had failed to win the +Lancashire Cup. Indeed, that celebrated animal, owned as he was +by a pillar of the turf, who had secretly laid many thousands +against him, had not even started. The forty-eight hours that +followed his scratching were among the darkest in Dartie's life. + +Visions of James haunted him day and night. Black thoughts about +Soames mingled with the faintest hopes. On the Friday night he +got drunk, so greatly was he affected. But on Saturday morning +the true Stock Exchange instinct triumphed within him. Owing +some hundreds, which by no possibility could he pay, he went into +town and put them all on Concertina for the Saltown Borough +Handicap. + +As he said to Major Scrotton, with whom he lunched at the Iseeum: +"That little Jew boy, Nathans, had given him the tip. He didn't +care a cursh. He wash in--a mucker. If it didn't come up--well +then, damme, the old man would have to pay!" + +A bottle of Pol Roger to his own cheek had given him a new +contempt for James. + +It came up. Concertina was squeezed home by her neck--a terrible +squeak! But, as Dartie said: There was nothing like pluck! + +He was by no means averse to the expedition to Richmond. He +would 'stand' it himself! He cherished an admiration for Irene, +and wished to be on more playful terms with her. + +At half-past five the Park Lane footman came round to say: Mrs. +Forsyte was very sorry, but one of the horses was coughing! + +Undaunted by this further blow, Winifred at once despatched +little Publius (now aged seven) with the nursery governess to +Montpellier Square. + +They would go down in hansoms and meet at the Crown and Sceptre +at 7.45. + +Dartie, on being told, was pleased enough. It was better than +going down with your back to the horses! He had no objection to +driving down with Irene. He supposed they would pick up the +others at Montpellier Square, and swop hansoms there? + +Informed that the meet was at the Crown and Sceptre, and that he +would have to drive with his wife, he turned sulky, and said it +was d---d slow! + +At seven o'clock they started, Dartie offering to bet the driver +half-a-crown he didn't do it in the three-quarters of an hour. + +Twice only did husband and wife exchange remarks on the way. + +Dartie said: "It'll put Master Soames's nose out of joint to hear +his wife's been drivin' in a hansom with Master Bosinney!" + +Winifred replied: "Don't talk such nonsense, Monty!" + +"Nonsense!" repeated Dartie. "You don't know women, my fine +lady!" + +On the other occasion he merely asked: "How am I looking? A bit +puffy about the gills? That fizz old George is so fond of is a +windy wine!" + +He had been lunching with George Forsyte at the Haversnake. + +Bosinney and Irene had arrived before them. They were standing +in one of the long French windows overlooking the river. + +Windows that summer were open all day long, and all night too, +and day and night the scents of flowers and trees came in, the +hot scent of parching grass, and the cool scent of the heavy +dews. + +To the eye of the observant Dartie his two guests did not appear +to be making much running, standing there close together, without +a word. Bosinney was a hungry-looking creature--not much go +about him + +He left them to Winifred, however, and busied himself to order +the dinner. + +A Forsyte will require good, if not delicate feeding, but a +Dartie will tax the resources of a Crown and Sceptre. Living as +he does, from hand to mouth, nothing is too good for him to eat; +and he will eat it. His drink, too, will need to be carefully +provided; there is much drink in this country 'not good enough' +for a Dartie; he will have the best. Paying for things +vicariously, there is no reason why he should stint himself. To +stint yourself is the mark of a fool, not of a Dartie. + +The best of everything! No sounder principle on which a man can +base his life, whose father-in-law has a very considerable +income, and a partiality for his grandchildren. + +With his not unable eye Dartie had spotted this weakness in James +the very first year after little Publius's arrival (an error); he +had profited by his perspicacity. Four little Darties were now a +sort of perpetual insurance. + +The feature of the feast was unquestionably the red mullet. This +delectable fish, brought from a considerable distance in a state +of almost perfect preservation, was first fried, then boned, then +served in ice, with Madeira punch in place of sauce, according to +a recipe known to a few men of the world. + +Nothing else calls for remark except the payment of the bill by +Dartie. + +He had made himself extremely agreeable throughout the meal; his +bold, admiring stare seldom abandoning Irene's face and figure. +As he was obliged to confess to himself, he got no change out of +her--she was cool enough, as cool as her shoulders looked under +their veil of creamy lace. He expected to have caught her out in +some little game with Bosinney; but not a bit of it, she kept up +her end remarkably well. As for that architect chap, he was as +glum as a bear with a sore head--Winifred could barely get a word +out of him; he ate nothing, but he certainly took his liquor, and +his face kept getting whiter, and his eyes looked queer. + +It was all very amusing. + +For Dartie himself was in capital form, and talked freely, with a +certain poignancy, being no fool. He told two or three stories +verging on the improper, a concession to the company, for his +stories were not used to verging. He proposed Irene's health in +a mock speech. Nobody drank it, and Winifred said: "Don't be +such a clown, Monty!" + +At her suggestion they went after dinner to the public terrace +overlooking the river. + +"I should like to see the common people making love," she said, +"it's such fun!" + +There were numbers of them walking in the cool, after the day's +heat, and the air was alive with the sound of voices, coarse and +loud, or soft as though murmuring secrets. + +It was not long before Winifred's better sense--she was the only +Forsyte present--secured them an empty bench. They sat down in a +row. A heavy tree spread a thick canopy above their heads, and +the haze darkened slowly over the river. + +Dartie sat at the end, next to him Irene, then Bosinney, then +Winifred. There was hardly room for four, and the man of the +world could feel Irene's arm crushed against his own; he knew +that she could not withdraw it without seeming rude, and this +amused him; he devised every now and again a movement that would +bring her closer still. He thought: 'That Buccaneer Johnny +shan't have it all to himself! It's a pretty tight fit, +certainly!' + +>From far down below on the dark river came drifting the tinkle of +a mandoline, and voices singing the old round: + +'A boat, a boat, unto the ferry, +For we'll go over and be merry; +And laugh, and quaff, and drink brown sherry!' + +And suddenly the moon appeared, young and tender, floating up on +her back from behind a tree; and as though she had breathed, the +air was cooler, but down that cooler air came always the warm +odour of the limes. + +Over his cigar Dartie peered round at Bosinney, who was sitting +with his arms crossed, staring straight in front of him, and on +his face the look of a man being tortured. + +And Dartie shot a glance at the face between, so veiled by the +overhanging shadow that it was but like a darker piece of the +darkness shaped and breathed on; soft, mysterious, enticing. + +A hush had fallen on the noisy terrace, as if all the strollers +were thinking secrets too precious to be spoken. + +And Dartie thought: 'Women!' + +The glow died above the river, the singing ceased; the young moon +hid behind a tree, and all was dark. He pressed himself against +Irene. + +He was not alarmed at the shuddering that ran through the limbs +he touched, or at the troubled, scornful look of her eyes. He +felt her trying to draw herself away, and smiled. + +It must be confessed that the man of the world had drunk quite as +much as was good for him. + +With thick lips parted under his well-curled moustaches, and his +bold eyes aslant upon her, he had the malicious look of a satyr. + +Along the pathway of sky between the hedges of the tree tops the +stars clustered forth; like mortals beneath, they seemed to shift +and swarm and whisper. Then on the terrace the buzz broke out +once more, and Dartie thought: 'Ah! he's a poor, hungry-looking +devil, that Bosinney!'and again he pressed himself against Irene. + +The movement deserved a better success. She rose, and they all +followed her. + +The man of the world was more than ever determined to see what +she was made of. Along the terrace he kept close at her elbow. +He had within him much good wine. There was the long drive home, +the long drive and the warm dark and the pleasant closeness of +the hansom cab--with its insulation from the world devised by +some great and good man. That hungry architect chap might drive +with his wife--he wished him joy of her! And, conscious that his +voice was not too steady, he was careful not to speak; but a +smile had become fixed on his thick lips. + +They strolled along toward the cabs awaiting them at the farther +end. His plan had the merit of all great plans, an almost brutal +simplicity he would merely keep at her elbow till she got in, and +get in quickly after her. + +But when Irene reached the cab she did not get in; she slipped, +instead, to the horse's head. Dartie was not at the moment +sufficiently master of his legs to follow. She stood stroking +the horse's nose, and, to his annoyance, Bosinney was at her side +first. She turned and spoke to him rapidly, in a low voice; the +words 'That man' reached Dartie. He stood stubbornly by the cab +step, waiting for her to come back. He knew a trick worth two of +that! + +Here, in the lamp-light, his figure (no more than medium height), +well squared in its white evening waistcoat, his light overcoat +flung over his arm, a pink flower in his button-hole, and on his +dark face that look of confident, good-humoured insolence, he was +at his best--a thorough man of the world. + +Winifred was already in her cab. Dartie reflected that Bosinney +would have a poorish time in that cab if he didn't look sharp! +Suddenly he received a push which nearly overturned him in the +road. Bosinney's voice hissed in his ear: "I am taking Irene +back; do you understand?" He saw a face white with passion, and +eyes that glared at him like a wild cat's. + +"Eh?" he stammered. "What? Not a bit. You take my wife!" + +"Get away!" hissed Bosinney--"or I'll throw you into the road!" + +Dartie recoiled; he saw as plainly as possible that the fellow +meant it. In the space he made Irene had slipped by, her dress +brushed his legs. Bosinney stepped in after her. + +"Go on!" he heard the Buccaneer cry. The cabman flicked his +horse. It sprang forward. + +Dartie stood for a moment dumbfounded; then, dashing at the cab +where his wife sat, he scrambled in. + +"Drive on!" he shouted to the driver, "and don't you lose sight +of that fellow in front!" + +Seated by his wife's side, he burst into imprecations. Calming +himself at last with a supreme effort, he added: "A pretty mess +you've made of it, to let the Buccaneer drive home with her; why +on earth couldn't you keep hold of him? He's mad with love; any +fool can see that!" + +He drowned Winifred's rejoinder with fresh calls to the Almighty; +nor was it until they reached Barnes that he ceased a Jeremiad, +in the course of which he had abused her, her father, her +brother, Irene, Bosinney, the name of Forsyte, his own children, +and cursed the day when he had ever married. + +Winifred, a woman of strong character, let him have his say, at +the end of which he lapsed into sulky silence. His angry eyes +never deserted the back of that cab, which, like a lost chance, +haunted the darkness in front of him. + +Fortunately he could not hear Bosinney's passionate pleading-- +that pleading which the man of the world's conduct had let loose +like a flood; he could not see Irene shivering, as though some +garment had been torn from her, nor her eyes, black and mournful, +like the eyes of a beaten child. He could not hear Bosinney +entreating, entreating, always entreating; could not hear her +sudden, soft weeping, nor see that poor, hungry-looking devil, +awed and trembling, humbly touching her hand. + +In Montpellier Square their cabman, following his instructions to +the letter, faithfully drew up behind the cab in front. The +Darties saw Bosinney spring out, and Irene follow, and hasten up +the steps with bent head. She evidently had her key in her hand, +for she disappeared at once. It was impossible to tell whether +she had turned to speak to Bosinney. + +The latter came walking past their cab; both husband and wife had +an admirable view of his face in the light of a street lamp. It +was working with violent emotion. + +"Good-night, Mr. Bosinney!" called Winifred. + +Bosinney started, clawed off his hat, and hurried on. He had +obviously forgotten their existence. + +"There!" said Dartie, "did you see the beast's face? What did I +say? Fine games!" He improved the occasion. + +There had so clearly been a crisis in the cab that Winifred was +unable to defend her theory. + +She said: "I shall say nothing about it. I don't see any use in +making a fuss!" + +With that view Dartie at once concurred; looking upon James as a +private preserve, he disapproved of his being disturbed by the +troubles of others. + +"Quite right," he said; "let Soames look after himself. He's +jolly well able to!" + +Thus speaking, the Darties entered their habitat in Green Street, +the rent of which was paid by James, and sought a well-earned +rest. The hour was midnight, and no Forsytes remained abroad in +the streets to spy out Bosinney's wanderings; to see him return +and stand against the rails of the Square garden, back from the +glow of the street lamp; to see him stand there in the shadow of +trees, watching the house where in the dark was hidden she whom +he would have given the world to see for a single minute--she who +was now to him the breath of the lime-trees, the meaning of the +light and the darkness, the very beating of his own heart. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DIAGNOSIS OF A FORSYTE + + +It is in the nature of a Forsyte to be ignorant that he is a +Forsyte; but young Jolyon was well aware of being one. He had +not known it till after the decisive step which had made him an +outcast; since then the knowledge had been with him continually. +He felt it throughout his alliance, throughout all his dealings +with his second wife, who was emphatically not a Forsyte. + +He knew that if he had not possessed in great measure the eye for +what he wanted, the tenacity to hold on to it, the sense of the +folly of wasting that for which he had given so big a price--in +other words, the 'sense of property' he could never have retained +her (perhaps never would have desired to retain her) with him +through all the financial troubles, slights, and misconstructions +of those fifteen years; never have induced her to marry him on +the death of his first wife; never have lived it all through, and +come up, as it were, thin, but smiling. + +He was one of those men who, seated cross-legged like miniature +Chinese idols in the cages of their own hearts, are ever smiling +at themselves a doubting smile. Not that this smile, so intimate +and eternal, interfered with his actions, which, like his chin +and his temperament, were quite a peculiar blend of softness and +determination. + +He was conscious, too, of being a Forsyte in his work, that +painting of water-colours to which he devoted so much energy, +always with an eye on himself, as though he could not take so +unpractical a pursuit quite seriously, and always with a certain +queer uneasiness that he did not make more money at it. + +It was, then, this consciousness of what it meant to be a +Forsyte, that made him receive the following letter from old +Jolyon, with a mixture of sympathy and disgust: + + +'SHELDRAKE HOUSE, + 'BROADSTAIRS, + +'July 1. +'MY DEAR JO,' + +(The Dad's handwriting had altered very little in the thirty odd +years that he remembered it.) + +'We have been here now a fortnight, and have had good weather on +the whole. The air is bracing, but my liver is out of order, and +I shall be glad enough to get back to town. I cannot say much +for June, her health and spirits are very indifferent, and I +don't see what is to come of it. She says nothing, but it is +clear that she is harping on this engagement, which is an +engagement and no engagement, and--goodness knows what. I have +grave doubts whether she ought to be allowed to return to London +in the present state of affairs, but she is so self-willed that +she might take it into her head to come up at any moment. The +fact is someone ought to speak to Bosinney and ascertain what he +means. I'm afraid of this myself, for I should certainly rap him +over the knuckles, but I thought that you, knowing him at the +Club, might put in a word, and get to ascertain what the fellow +is about. You will of course in no way commit June. I shall be +glad to hear from you in the course of a few days whether you +have succeeded in gaining any information. The situation is very +distressing to me, I worry about it at night. + +With my love to Jolly and Holly. +'I am, + 'Your affect. father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +Young Jolyon pondered this letter so long and seriously that his +wife noticed his preoccupation, and asked him what was the +matter. He replied: "Nothing." + +It was a fixed principle with him never to allude to June. She +might take alarm, he did not know what she might think; he +hastened, therefore, to banish from his manner all traces of +absorption, but in this he was about as successful as his father +would have been, for he had inherited all old Jolyon's +transparency in matters of domestic finesse; and young Mrs. +Jolyon, busying herself over the affairs of the house, went about +with tightened lips, stealing at him unfathomable looks. + +He started for the Club in the afternoon with the letter in his +pocket, and without having made up his mind. + +To sound a man as to 'his intentions' was peculiarly unpleasant +to him; nor did his own anomalous position diminish this +unpleasantness. It was so like his family, so like all the +people they knew and mixed with, to enforce what they called +their rights over a man, to bring him up to the mark; so like +them to carry their business principles into their private +relations. + +And how that phrase in the letter -'You will, of course, in no +way commit June'--gave the whole thing away. + +Yet the letter, with the personal grievance, the concern for +June, the 'rap over the knuckles,' was all so natural. No wonder +his father wanted to know what Bosinney meant, no wonder he was +angry. + +It was difficult to refuse! But why give the thing to him to do? +That was surely quite unbecoming; but so long as a Forsyte got +what he was after, he was not too particular about the means, +provided appearances were saved. + +How should he set about it, or how refuse? Both seemed impossible. +So, young Jolyon! + +He arrived at the Club at three o'clock, and the first person he +saw was Bosinney himself, seated in a corner, staring out of the +window. + +Young Jolyon sat down not far off, and began nervously to +reconsider his position. He looked covertly at Bosinney sitting +there unconscious. He did not know him very well, and studied +him attentively for perhaps the first time; an unusual looking +man, unlike in dress, face, and manner to most of the other +members of the Club--young Jolyon himself, however different he +had become in mood and temper, had always retained the neat +reticence of Forsyte appearance. He alone among Forsytes was +ignorant of Bosinney's nickname. The man was unusual, not +eccentric, but unusual; he looked worn, too, haggard, hollow in +the cheeks beneath those broad, high cheekbones, though without +any appearance of ill-health, for he was strongly built, with +curly hair that seemed to show all the vitality of a fine +constitution. + +Something in his face and attitude touched young Jolyon. He knew +what suffering was like, and this man looked as if he were +suffering. + +He got up and touched his arm. + +Bosinney started, but exhibited no sign of embarrassment on +seeing who it was. + +Young Jolyon sat down. + +"I haven't seen you for a long time," he said. "How are you +getting on with my cousin's house?" + +"It'll be finished in about a week." + +"I congratulate you!" + +"Thanks--I don't know that it's much of a subject for +congratulation." + +"No?" queried young Jolyon; "I should have thought you'd be glad +to get a long job like that off your hands; but I suppose you +feel it much as I do when I part with a picture--a sort of +child?" + +He looked kindly at Bosinney. + +"Yes," said the latter more cordially, "it goes out from you and +there's an end of it. I didn't know you painted." + +"Only water-colours; I can't say I believe in my work." + +"Don't believe in it? There--how can you do it? Work's no use +unless you believe in it!" + +"Good," said young Jolyon; "it's exactly what I've always said. +By-the-bye, have you noticed that whenever one says 'Good,' one +always adds 'it's exactly what I've always said'! But if you ask +me how I do it, I answer, because I'm a Forsyte." + +"A Forsyte! I never thought of you as one!" + +"A Forsyte," replied young Jolyon, "is not an uncommon animal. +There are hundreds among the members of this Club. Hundreds out +there in the streets; you meet them wherever you go!" + +"And how do you tell them, may I ask?" said Bosinney. + +"By their sense of property. A Forsyte takes a practical--one +might say a commonsense--view of things, and a practical view of +things is based fundamentally on a sense of property. A Forsyte, +you will notice, never gives himself away." + +"Joking?" + +Young Jolyon's eye twinkled. + +"Not much. As a Forsyte myself, I have no business to talk. But +I'm a kind of thoroughbred mongrel; now, there's no mistaking +you: You're as different from me as I am from my Uncle James, who +is the perfect specimen of a Forsyte. His sense of property is +extreme, while you have practically none. Without me in between, +you would seem like a different species. I'm the missing link. +We are, of course, all of us the slaves of property, and I admit +that it's a question of degree, but what I call a 'Forsyte' is a +man who is decidedly more than less a slave of property. He +knows a good thing, he knows a safe thing, and his grip on +property--it doesn't matter whether it be wives, houses, money, +or reputation--is his hall-mark." + +"Ah!" murmured Bosinney. "You should patent the word." + +"I should like," said young Jolyon, "to lecture on it: + +"Properties and quality of a Forsyte: This little animal, +disturbed by the ridicule of his own sort, is unaffected in his +motions by the laughter of strange creatures (you or I). +Hereditarily disposed to myopia, he recognises only the persons +of his own species, amongst which he passes an existence of +competitive tranquillity." + +"You talk of them," said Bosinney, "as if they were half +England." + +"They are," repeated young Jolyon, "half England, and the better +half, too, the safe half, the three per cent. Half, the half +that counts. It's their wealth and security that makes +everything possible; makes your art possible, makes literature, +science, even religion, possible. Without Forsytes, who believe +in none of these things, and habitats but turn them all to use, +where should we be? My dear sir, the Forsytes are the middlemen, +the commercials, the pillars of society, the cornerstones of +convention; everything that is admirable!" + +"I don't know whether I catch your drift," said Bosinney, "but I +fancy there are plenty of Forsytes, as you call them, in my +profession." + +"Certainly," replied young Jolyon. "The great majority of +architects, painters, or writers have no principles, like any +other Forsytes. Art, literature, religion, survive by virtue of +the few cranks who really believe in such things, and the many +Forsytes who make a commercial use of them. At a low estimate, +three-fourths of our Royal Academicians are Forsytes, seven- +eighths of our novelists, a large proportion of the press. +Of science I can't speak; they are magnificently represented in +religion; in the House of Commons perhaps more numerous than +anywhere; the aristocracy speaks for itself. But I'm not +laughing. It is dangerous to go against the majority and what a +majority!" He fixed his eyes on Bosinney: "It's dangerous to let +anything carry you away--a house, a picture, a--woman!" + +They looked at each other.--And, as though he had done that which +no Forsyte did--given himself away, young Jolyon drew into his +shell. Bosinney broke the silence. + +"Why do you take your own people as the type?" said he. + +"My people," replied young Jolyon, "are not very extreme, and +they have their own private peculiarities, like every other +family, but they possess in a remarkable degree those two +qualities which are the real tests of a Forsyte--the power of +never being able to give yourself up to anything soul and body, +and the 'sense of property'." + +Bosinney smiled: "How about the big one, for instance?" + +"Do you mean Swithin?" asked young Jolyon. "Ah! in Swithin +there's something primeval still. The town and middle-class +life haven't digested him yet. All the old centuries of farmwork +and brute force have settled in him, and there they've stuck, for +all he's so distinguished." + +Bosinney seemed to ponder. "Well, you've hit your cousin Soames +off to the life," he said suddenly. "He'll never blow his brains +out." + +Young Jolyon shot at him a penetrating glance. + +"No," he said; "he won't. That's why he's to be reckoned with. + +Look out for their grip! It's easy to laugh, but don't mistake +me. It doesn't do to despise a Forsyte; it doesn't do to +disregard them!" + +"Yet you've done it yourself!" + +Young Jolyon acknowledged the hit by losing his smile. + +"You forget," he said with a queer pride, "I can hold on, too-- +I'm a Forsyte myself. We're all in the path of great forces. +The man who leaves the shelter of the wall--well--you know what I +mean. I don't," he ended very low, as though uttering a threat, +"recommend every man to-go-my-way. It depends." + +The colour rushed into Bosinney's face, but soon receded, leaving +it sallow-brown as before. He gave a short laugh, that left his +lips fixed in a queer, fierce smile; his eyes mocked young +Jolyon. + +"Thanks," he said. "It's deuced kind of you. But you're not the +only chaps that can hold on." He rose. + +Young Jolyon looked after him as he walked away, and, resting his +head on his hand, sighed. + +In the drowsy, almost empty room the only sounds were the rustle +of newspapers, the scraping of matches being struck. He stayed a +long time without moving, living over again those days when he, +too, had sat long hours watching the clock, waiting for the +minutes to pass--long hours full of the torments of uncertainty, +and of a fierce, sweet aching; and the slow, delicious agony of +that season came back to him with its old poignancy. The sight +of Bosinney, with his haggard face, and his restless eyes always +wandering to the clock, had roused in him a pity, with which was +mingled strange, irresistible envy. + +He knew the signs so well. Whither was he going--to what sort of +fate? What kind of woman was it who was drawing him to her by +that magnetic force which no consideration of honour, no +principle, no interest could withstand; from which the only +escape was flight. + +Flight! But why should Bosinney fly? A man fled when he was in +danger of destroying hearth and home, when there were children, +when he felt himself trampling down ideals, breaking something. +But here, so he had heard, it was all broken to his hand. + +He himself had not fled, nor would he fly if it were all to come +over again. Yet he had gone further than Bosinney, had broken up +his own unhappy home, not someone else's: And the old saying came +back to him: 'A man's fate lies in his own heart.' + +In his own heart! The proof of the pudding was in the eating-- +Bosinney had still to eat his pudding. + +His thoughts passed to the woman, the woman whom he did not know, +but the outline of whose story he had heard. + +An unhappy marriage! No ill-treatment--only that indefinable +malaise, that terrible blight which killed all sweetness under +Heaven; and so from day to day, from night to night, from week to +week, from year to year, till death should end it + +But young Jolyon, the bitterness of whose own feelings time had +assuaged, saw Soames' side of the question too. Whence should a +man like his cousin, saturated with all the prejudices and +beliefs of his class, draw the insight or inspiration necessary +to break up this life? It was a question of imagination, of +projecting himself into the future beyond the unpleasant gossip, +sneers, and tattle that followed on such separations, beyond the +passing pangs that the lack of the sight of her would cause, +beyond the grave disapproval of the worthy. But few men, and +especially few men of Soames' class, had imagination enough for +that. A deal of mortals in this world, and not enough +imagination to go round! And sweet Heaven, what a difference +between theory and practice; many a man, perhaps even Soames, +held chivalrous views on such matters, who when the shoe pinched +found a distinguishing factor that made of himself an exception. + +Then, too, he distrusted his judgment. He had been through the +experience himself, had tasted too the dregs the bitterness of an +unhappy marriage, and how could he take the wide and dispassionate +view of those who had never been within sound of the battle? +His evidence was too first-hand--like the evidence on military +matters of a soldier who has been through much active service, +against that of civilians who have not suffered the disadvantage +of seeing things too close. Most people would consider such a +marriage as that of Soames and Irene quite fairly successful; +he had money, she had beauty; it was a case for compromise. +There was no reason why they should not jog along, even if they +hated each other. It would not matter if they went their own +ways a little so long as the decencies were observed--the +sanctity of the marriage tie, of the common home, respected. +Half the marriages of the upper classes were conducted on these +lines: Do not offend the susceptibilities of Society; do not +offend the susceptibilities of the Church. To avoid offending +these is worth the sacrifice of any private feelings. The +advantages of the stable home are visible, tangible, so many +pieces of property; there is no risk in the statu quo. To break +up a home is at the best a dangerous experiment, and selfish into +the bargain. + +This was the case for the defence, and young Jolyon sighed. + +'The core of it all,' he thought, 'is property, but there are +many people who would not like it put that way. To them it is +"the sanctity of the marriage tie"; but the sanctity of the +marriage tie is dependent on the sanctity of the family, and the +sanctity of the family is dependent on the sanctity of property. +And yet I imagine all these people are followers of One who never +owned anything. It is curious!' + +And again young Jolyon sighed. + +'Am I going on my way home to ask any poor devils I meet to share +my dinner, which will then be too little for myself, or, at all +events, for my wife, who is necessary to my health and happiness? +It may be that after all Soames does well to exercise his rights +and support by his practice the sacred principle of property +which benefits us all, with the exception of those who suffer by +the process.' + +And so he left his chair, threaded his way through the maze of +seats, took his hat, and languidly up the hot streets crowded +with carriages, reeking with dusty odours, wended his way home. + +Before reaching Wistaria Avenue he removed old Jolyon's letter +from his pocket, and tearing it carefully into tiny pieces, +scattered them in the dust of the road. + +He let himself in with his key, and called his wife's name. But +she had gone out, taking Jolly and Holly, and the house was +empty; alone in the garden the dog Balthasar lay in the shade +snapping at flies. + +Young Jolyon took his seat there, too, under the pear-tree that +bore no fruit. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BOSINNEY ON PAROLE + + +The day after the evening at Richmond Soames returned from Henley +by a morning train. Not constitutionally interested in +amphibious sports, his visit had been one of business rather than + +pleasure, a client of some importance having asked him down. + +He went straight to the City, but finding things slack, he left +at three o'clock, glad of this chance to get home quietly. Irene +did not expect him. Not that he had any desire to spy on her +actions, but there was no harm in thus unexpectedly surveying the +scene. + +After changing to Park clothes he went into the drawing-room. +She was sitting idly in the corner of the sofa, her favourite +seat; and there were circles under her eyes, as though she had +not slept. + +He asked: "How is it you're in? Are you expecting somebody?" + +"Yes that is, not particularly." + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Bosinney said he might come." + +"Bosinney. He ought to be at work." + +To this she made no answer. + +"Well," said Soames, "I want you to come out to the Stores with +me, and after that we'll go to the Park." + +"I don't want to go out; I have a headache." + +Soames replied: "If ever I want you to do anything, you've always +got a headache. It'll do you good to come and sit under the +trees." + +She did not answer. + +Soames was silent for some minutes; at last he said: "I don't +know what your idea of a wife's duty is. I never have known!" + +He had not expected her to reply, but she did. + +"I have tried to do what you want; it's not my fault that I +haven't been able to put my heart into it." + +"Whose fault is it, then?" He watched her askance. + +"Before we were married you promised to let me go if our marriage +was not a success. Is it a success?" + +Soames frowned. + +"Success," he stammered--"it would be a success if you behaved +yourself properly!" + +"I have tried," said Irene. "Will you let me go. + +Soames turned away. Secretly alarmed, he took refuge in bluster. + +"Let you go? You don't know what you're talking about. Let you +go? How can I let you go? We're married, aren't we? Then, what +are you talking about? For God's sake, don't let's have any of +this sort of nonsense! Get your hat on, and come and sit in the +Park." + +"Then, you won't let me go?" + +He felt her eyes resting on him with a strange, touching look. + +"Let you go!" he said; "and what on earth would you do with +yourself if I did? You've got no money!" + +"I could manage somehow." + +He took a swift turn up and down the room; then came and stood +before her. + +"Understand," he said, "once and for all, I won't have you say +this sort of thing. Go and get your hat on!" + +She did not move. + +"I suppose," said Soames, "you don't want to miss Bosinney if he +comes!" + +Irene got up slowly and left the room. She came down with her +hat on. + +They went out. + +In the Park, the motley hour of mid-afternoon, when foreigners +and other pathetic folk drive, thinking themselves to be in +fashion, had passed; the right, the proper, hour had come, was +nearly gone, before Soames and Irene seated themselves under the +Achilles statue. + +It was some time since he had enjoyed her company in the Park. +That was one of the past delights of the first two seasons of his +married life, when to feel himself the possessor of this gracious +creature before all London had been his greatest, though secret, +pride. How many afternoons had he not sat beside her, extremely +neat, with light grey gloves and faint, supercilious smile, +nodding to acquaintances, and now and again removing his hat. + +His light grey gloves were still on his hands, and on his lips +his smile sardonic, but where the feeling in his heart? + +The seats were emptying fast, but still he kept her there, silent +and pale, as though to work out a secret punishment. Once or +twice he made some comment, and she bent her head, or answered +"Yes" with a tired smile. + +Along the rails a man was walking so fast that people stared +after him when he passed. + +"Look at that ass!" said Soames; "he must be mad to walk like +that in this heat!" + +He turned; Irene had made a rapid movement. + +"Hallo!" he said: "it's our friend the Buccaneer!" + +And he sat still, with his sneering smile, conscious that Irene +was sitting still, and smiling too. + +"Will she bow to him?" he thought. + +But she made no sign. + +Bosinney reached the end of the rails, and came walking back +amongst the chairs, quartering his ground like a pointer. When +he saw them he stopped dead, and raised his hat. + +The smile never left Soames' face; he also took off his hat. + +Bosinney came up, looking exhausted, like a man after hard +physical exercise; the sweat stood in drops on his brow, and +Soames' smile seemed to say: "You've had a trying time, my friend +.... What are you doing in the Park?" he asked. "We thought +you despised such frivolity!" + +Bosinney did not seem to hear; he made his answer to Irene: "I've +been round to your place; I hoped I should find you in." + +Somebody tapped Soames on the back, and spoke to him; and in the +exchange of those platitudes over his shoulder, he missed her +answer, and took a resolution. + +"We're just going in," he said to Bosinney; "you'd better come +back to dinner with us." Into that invitation he put a strange +bravado, a stranger pathos: "You, can't deceive me," his look and +voice seemed saying, "but see--I trust you--I'm not afraid of +you!" + +They started back to Montpellier Square together, Irene between +them. In the crowded streets Soames went on in front. He did +not listen to their conversation; the strange resolution of +trustfulness he had taken seemed to animate even his secret +conduct. Like a gambler, he said to himself: 'It's a card I dare +not throw away--I must play it for what it's worth. I have not +too many chances.' + +He dressed slowly, heard her leave her room and go downstairs, +and, for full five minutes after, dawdled about in his dressing- +room. Then he went down, purposely shutting the door loudly to +show that he was coming. He found them standing by the hearth, +perhaps talking, perhaps not; he could not say. + +He played his part out in the farce, the long evening through-- +his manner to his guest more friendly than it had ever been +before; and when at last Bosinney went, he said: "You must come +again soon; Irene likes to have you to talk about the house!" +Again his voice had the strange bravado and the stranger pathos; +but his hand was cold as ice. + +Loyal to his resolution, he turned away from their parting, +turned away from his wife as she stood under the hanging lamp to +say good-night--away from the sight of her golden head shining so +under the light, of her smiling mournful lips; away from the +sight of Bosinney's eyes looking at her, so like a dog's looking +at its master. + +And he went to bed with the certainty that Bosinney was in love +with his wife. + +The summer night was hot, so hot and still that through every +opened window came in but hotter air. For long hours he lay +listening to her breathing. + +She could sleep, but he must lie awake. And, lying awake, he +hardened himself to play the part of the serene and trusting +husband. + +In the small hours he slipped out of bed, and passing into his +dressing-room, leaned by the open window. + +He could hardly breathe. + +A night four years ago came back to him--the night but one before +his marriage; as hot and stifling as this. + +He remembered how he had lain in a long cane chair in the window +of his sitting-room off Victoria Street. Down below in a side +street a man had banged at a door, a woman had cried out; he +remembered, as though it were now, the sound of the scuffle, the +slam of the door, the dead silence that followed. And then the +early water-cart, cleansing the reek of the streets, had +approached through the strange-seeming, useless lamp-light; he +seemed to hear again its rumble, nearer and nearer, till it +passed and slowly died away. + +He leaned far out of the dressing-room window over the little +court below, and saw the first light spread. The outlines of +dark walls and roofs were blurred for a moment, then came out +sharper than before. + +He remembered how that other night he had watched the lamps +paling all the length of Victoria Street; how he had hurried on +his clothes and gone down into the street, down past houses and +squares, to the street where she was staying, and there had stood +and looked at the front of the little house, as still and grey as +the face of a dead man. + +And suddenly it shot through his mind; like a sick man's fancy: +What's he doing?--that fellow who haunts me, who was here this +evening, who's in love with my wife--prowling out there, perhaps, +looking for her as I know he was looking for her this afternoon; +watching my house now, for all I can tell! + +He stole across the landing to the front of the house, stealthily +drew aside a blind, and raised a window. + +The grey light clung about the trees of the square, as though +Night, like a great downy moth, had brushed them with her wings. +The lamps were still alight, all pale, but not a soul stirred--no +living thing in sight + +Yet suddenly, very faint, far off in the deathly stillness, he +heard a cry writhing, like the voice of some wandering soul +barred out of heaven, and crying for its happiness. There it was +again--again! Soames shut the window, shuddering. + +Then he thought: 'Ah! it's only the peacocks, across the water.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JUNE PAYS SOME CALLS + + + +Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that +odour of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable +seaside lodging-houses. On a chair--a shiny leather chair, +displaying its horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand +corner--stood a black despatch case. This he was filling with +papers, with the Times, and a bottle of Eau-de Cologne. He had +meetings that day of the 'Globular Gold Concessions' and the 'New +Colliery Company, Limited,' to which he was going up, for he +never missed a Board; to 'miss a Board' would be one more piece +of evidence that he was growing old, and this his jealous Forsyte +spirit could not bear. + +His eyes, as he filled that black despatch case, looked as if at +any moment they might blaze up with anger. So gleams the eye of +a schoolboy, baited by a ring of his companions; but he controls +himself, deterred by the fearful odds against him. And old +Jolyon controlled himself, keeping down, with his masterful +restraint now slowly wearing out, the irritation fostered in him +by the conditions of his life. + +He had received from his son an unpractical letter, in which by +rambling generalities the boy seemed trying to get out of +answering a plain question. 'I've seen Bosinney,' he said; 'he +is not a criminal. The more I see of people the more I am +convinced that they are never good or bad--merely comic, or +pathetic. You probably don't agree with me!' + +Old Jolyon did not; he considered it cynical to so express +oneself; he had not yet reached that point of old age when even +Forsytes, bereft of those illusions and principles which they +have cherished carefully for practical purposes but never +believed in, bereft of all corporeal enjoyment, stricken to the +very heart by having nothing left to hope for--break through the +barriers of reserve and say things they would never have believed +themselves capable of saying. + +Perhaps he did not believe in 'goodness' and 'badness' any more +than his son; but as he would have said: He didn't know--couldn't +tell; there might be something in it; and why, by an unnecessary +expression of disbelief, deprive yourself of possible advantage? + +Accustomed to spend his holidays among the mountains, though +(like a true Forsyte) he had never attempted anything too +adventurous or too foolhardy, he had been passionately fond of +them. And when the wonderful view (mentioned in Baedeker-- +'fatiguing but repaying'--was disclosed to him after the effort +of the climb, he had doubtless felt the existence of some great, +dignified principle crowning the chaotic strivings, the petty +precipices, and ironic little dark chasms of life. This was as +near to religion, perhaps, as his practical spirit had ever gone. + +But it was many years since he had been to the mountains. He had +taken June there two seasons running, after his wife died, and +had realized bitterly that his walking days were over. + +To that old mountain--given confidence in a supreme order of +things he had long been a stranger. + +He knew himself to be old, yet he felt young; and this troubled +him. It troubled and puzzled him, too, to think that he, who had +always been so careful, should be father and grandfather to such +as seemed born to disaster. He had nothing to say against Jo-- +who could say anything against the boy, an amiable chap?--but his +position was deplorable, and this business of June's nearly as +bad. It seemed like a fatality, and a fatality was one of those +things no man of his character could either understand or put up +with. + +In writing to his son he did not really hope that anything would +come of it. Since the ball at Roger's he had seen too clearly +how the land lay--he could put two and two together quicker than +most men--and, with the example of his own son before his eyes, +knew better than any Forsyte of them all that the pale flame +singes men's wings whether they will or no. + +In the days before June's engagement, when she and Mrs. Soames +were always together, he had seen enough of Irene to feel the +spell she cast over men. She was not a flirt, not even a +coquette--words dear to the heart of his generation, which loved +to define things by a good, broad, inadequate word--but she was +dangerous. He could not say why. Tell him of a quality innate +in some women--a seductive power beyond their own control! He +would but answer: 'Humbug!' She was dangerous, and there was an +end of it. He wanted to close his eyes to that affair. If it +was, it was; be did not want to hear any more about it--he only +wanted to save June's position and her peace of mind. He still +hoped she might once more become a comfort to himself. + +And so he had written. He got little enough out of the answer. +As to what young Jolyon had made of the interview, there was +practically only the queer sentence: 'I gather that he's in the +stream.' The stream! What stream? What was this new-fangled way +of talking? + +He sighed, and folded the last of the papers under the flap of +the bag; he knew well enough what was meant. + +June came out of the dining-room, and helped him on with his +summer coat. From her costume, and the expression of her little +resolute face, he saw at once what was coming. + +"I'm going with you," she said. + +"Nonsense, my dear; I go straight into the City. I can't have +you racketting about!" + +"I must see old Mrs. Smeech." + +"Oh, your precious 'lame ducks!" grumbled out old Jolyon. He +did not believe her excuse, but ceased his opposition. There was +no doing anything with that pertinacity of hers. + +At Victoria he put her into the carriage which had been ordered +for himself--a characteristic action, for he had no petty +selfishnesses. + +"Now, don't you go tiring yourself, my darling," he said, and +took a cab on into the city. + +June went first to a back-street in Paddington, where Mrs. +Smeech, her 'lame duck,' lived--an aged person, connected with +the charring interest; but after half an hour spent in hearing +her habitually lamentable recital, and dragooning her into +temporary comfort, she went on to Stanhope Gate. The great house +was closed and dark. + +She had decided to learn something at all costs. It was better +to face the worst, and have it over. And this was her plan: To +go first to Phil's aunt, Mrs. Baynes, and, failing information +there, to Irene herself. She had no clear notion of what she +would gain by these visits. + +At three o'clock she was in Lowndes Square. With a woman's +instinct when trouble is to be faced, she had put on her best +frock, and went to the battle with a glance as courageous as old +Jolyon's itself. Her tremors had passed into eagerness. + +Mrs. Baynes, Bosinney's aunt (Louisa was her name), was in her +kitchen when June was announced, organizing the cook, for she was +an excellent housewife, and, as Baynes always said, there was 'a +lot in a good dinner.' He did his best work after dinner. It was +Baynes who built that remarkably fine row of tall crimson houses +in Kensington which compete with so many others for the title of +'the ugliest in London.' + +On hearing June's name, she went hurriedly to her bedroom, and, +taking two large bracelets from a red morocco case in a locked +drawer, put them on her white wrists--for she possessed in a +remarkable degree that 'sense of property,' which, as we know, is +the touchstone of Forsyteism, and the foundation of good +morality. + +Her figure, of medium height and broad build, with a tendency to +embonpoint, was reflected by the mirror of her whitewood +wardrobe, in a gown made under her own organization, of one of +those half-tints, reminiscent of the distempered walls of +corridors in large hotels. She raised her hands to her hair, +which she wore a la Princesse de Galles, and touched it here and +there, settling it more firmly on her head, and her eyes were +full of an unconscious realism, as though she were looking in the +face one of life's sordid facts, and making the best of it. In +youth her cheeks had been of cream and roses, but they were +mottled now by middle-age, and again that hard, ugly directness +came into her eyes as she dabbed a powder-puff across her +forehead. Putting the puff down, she stood quite still before +the glass, arranging a smile over her high, important nose, her, +chin, (never large, and now growing smaller with the increase of +her neck), her thin-lipped, down-drooping mouth. Quickly, not to +lose the effect, she grasped her skirts strongly in both hands, +and went downstairs. + +She had been hoping for this visit for some time past. Whispers +had reached her that things were not all right between her nephew +and his fiancee. Neither of them had been near her for weeks. +She had asked Phil to dinner many times; his invariable answer +had been 'Too busy.' + +Her instinct was alarmed, and the instinct in such matters of +this excellent woman was keen. She ought to have been a Forsyte; +in young Jolyon's sense of the word, she certainly had that +privilege, and merits description as such. + +She had married off her three daughters in a way that people said +was beyond their deserts, for they had the professional plainness +only to be found, as a rule, among the female kind of the more +legal callings. Her name was upon the committees of numberless +charities connected with the Church-dances, theatricals, or +bazaars--and she never lent her name unless sure beforehand that +everything had been thoroughly organized. + +She believed, as she often said, in putting things on a commercial +basis; the proper function of the Church, of charity, indeed, +of everything, was to strengthen the fabric of 'Society.' +Individual action, therefore, she considered immoral. +Organization was the only thing, for by organization alone could +you feel sure that you were getting a return for your money. +Organization--and again, organization! And there is no doubt +that she was what old Jolyon called her--"a 'dab' at that"--he +went further, he called her "a humbug." + +The enterprises to which she lent her name were organized so +admirably that by the time the takings were handed over, they +were indeed skim milk divested of all cream of human kindness. +But as she often justly remarked, sentiment was to be deprecated. +She was, in fact, a little academic. + +This great and good woman, so highly thought of in ecclesiastical +circles, was one of the principal priestesses in the temple of +Forsyteism, keeping alive day and night a sacred flame to the God +of Property, whose altar is inscribed with those inspiring words: +'Nothing for nothing, and really remarkably little for sixpence.' + +When she entered a room it was felt that something substantial +had come in, which was probably the reason of her popularity as a +patroness. People liked something substantial when they had paid +money for it; and they would look at her--surrounded by her staff +in charity ballrooms, with her high nose and her broad, square +figure, attired in an uniform covered with sequins--as though she +were a general. + +The only thing against her was that she had not a double name. +She was a power in upper middle-class society, with its hundred +sets and circles, all intersecting on the common battlefield of +charity functions, and on that battlefield brushing skirts so +pleasantly with the skirts of Society with the capital 'S.' She +was a power in society with the smaller 's,' that larger, more +significant, and more powerful body, where the commercially +Christian institutions, maxims, and 'principle,' which Mrs. +Baynes embodied, were real life-blood, circulating freely, real +business currency, not merely the sterilized imitation that +flowed in the veins of smaller Society with the larger ' S.' +People who knew her felt her to be sound--a sound woman, who +never gave herself away, nor anything else, if she could possibly +help it. + +She had been on the worst sort of terms with Bosinney's father, +who had not infrequently made her the object of an unpardonable +ridicule. She alluded to him now that he was gone as her 'poor, +dear, irreverend brother.' + +She greeted June with the careful effusion of which she was a +mistress, a little afraid of her as far as a woman of her +eminence in the commercial and Christian world could be afraid-- +for so slight a girl June had a great dignity, the fearlessness +of her eyes gave her that. And Mrs. Baynes, too, shrewdly +recognized that behind the uncompromising frankness of June's +manner there was much of the Forsyte. If the girl had been +merely frank and courageous, Mrs. Baynes would have thought her +'cranky,' and despised her; if she had been merely a Forsyte, +like Francie--let us say--she would have patronized her from +sheer weight of metal; but June, small though she was--Mrs. +Baynes habitually admired quantity--gave her an uneasy feeling; +and she placed her in a chair opposite the light. + +There was another reason for her respect which Mrs. Baynes, too +good a churchwoman to be worldly, would have been the last to +admit--she often heard her husband describe old Jolyon as +extremely well off, and was biassed towards his granddaughter for +the soundest of all reasons. To-day she felt the emotion with +which we read a novel describing a hero and an inheritance, +nervously anxious lest, by some frightful lapse of the novelist, +the young man should be left without it at the end. + +Her manner was warm; she had never seen so clearly before how +distinguished and desirable a girl this was. She asked after old +Jolyon's health. A wonderful man for his age; so upright, and +young looking, and how old was he? Eighty-one! She would never +have thought it! They were at the sea! Very nice for them; she +supposed June heard from Phil every day? Her light grey eyes +became more prominent as she asked this question; but the girl +met the glance without flinching. + +"No," she said, "he never writes!" + +Mrs. Baynes's eyes dropped; they had no intention of doing so, +but they did. They recovered immediately. + +"Of course not. That's Phil all over--he was always like that!" + +"Was he?" said June. + +The brevity of the answer caused Mrs. Baynes's bright smile a +moment's hesitation; she disguised it by a quick movement, and +spreading her skirts afresh, said: "Why, my dear--he's quite the +most harum-scarum person; one never pays the slightest attention +to what he does!" + +The conviction came suddenly to June that she was wasting her +time; even were she to put a question point-blank, she would +never get anything out of this woman. + +'Do you see him?' she asked, her face crimsoning. + +The perspiration broke out on Mrs. Baynes' forehead beneath the +powder. + +"Oh, yes! I don't remember when he was here last--indeed, we +haven't seen much of him lately. He's so busy with your cousin's +house; I'm told it'll be finished directly. We must organize a +little dinner to celebrate the event; do come and stay the night +with us!" + +"Thank you," said June. Again she thought: 'I'm only wasting my +time. This woman will tell me nothing.' + +She got up to go. A change came over Mrs. Baynes. She rose too; +her lips twitched, she fidgeted her hands. Something was +evidently very wrong, and she did not dare to ask this girl, who +stood there, a slim, straight little figure, with her decided +face, her set jaw, and resentful eyes. She was not accustomed to +be afraid of asking question's--all organization was based on +the asking of questions! + +But the issue was so grave that her nerve, normally strong, was +fairly shaken; only that morning her husband had said: "Old Mr. +Forsyte must be worth well over a hundred thousand pounds!" + +And this girl stood there, holding out her hand--holding out her +hand! + +The chance might be slipping away--she couldn't tell--the chance +of keeping her in the family, and yet she dared not speak. + +Her eyes followed June to the door. + +It closed. + +Then with an exclamation Mrs. Baynes ran forward, wobbling her +bulky frame from side to side, and opened it again. + +Too late! She heard the front door click, and stood still, an +expression of real anger and mortification on her face. + +June went along the Square with her bird-like quickness. She +detested that woman now whom in happier days she had been +accustomed to think so kind. Was she always to be put off thus, +and forced to undergo this torturing suspense? + +She would go to Phil himself, and ask him what he meant. She had +the right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she +came to Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, +she ran up the stairs, her heart thumping painfully. + +At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding +on to the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above. + +With a very white face she mounted the last flight. She saw the +door, with his name on the plate. And the resolution that had +brought her so far evaporated. + +The full meaning of her conduct came to her. She felt hot all +over; the palms of her hands were moist beneath the thin silk +covering of her gloves. + +She drew back to the stairs, but did not descend. Leaning +against the rail she tried to get rid of a feeling of being +choked; and she gazed at the door with a sort of dreadful +courage. No! she refused to go down. Did it matter what people +thought of her? They would never know! No one would help her if +she did not help herself! She would go through with it. + +Forcing herself, therefore, to leave the support of the wall, she +rang the bell. The door did not open, and all her shame and fear +suddenly abandoned her; she rang again and again, as though in +spite of its emptiness she could drag some response out of that +closed room, some recompense for the shame and fear that visit +had cost her. It did not open; she left off ringing, and, +sitting down at the top of the stairs, buried her face in her +hands. + +Presently she stole down, out into the air. She felt as though +she had passed through a bad illness, and had no desire now but +to get home as quickly as she could. The people she met seemed +to know where she had been, what she had been doing; and +suddenly--over on the opposite side, going towards his rooms from +the direction of Montpellier Square--she saw Bosinney himself. + +She made a movement to cross into the traffic. Their eyes met, +and he raised his hat. An omnibus passed, obscuring her view; +then, from the edge of the pavement, through a gap in the +traffic, she saw him walking on. + +And June stood motionless, looking after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PERFECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +'One mockturtle, clear; one oxtail; two glasses of port.' + +In the upper room at French's, where a Forsyte could still get +heavy English food, James and his son were sitting down to lunch. + +Of all eating-places James liked best to come here; there was +something unpretentious, well-flavoured, and filling about it, +and though he had been to a certain extent corrupted by the +necessity for being fashionable, and the trend of habits keeping +pace with an income that would increase, he still hankered in +quiet City moments after the tasty fleshpots of his earlier days. +Here you were served by hairy English waiters in aprons; there +was sawdust on the floor, and three round gilt looking-glasses +hung just above the line of sight. They had only recently done +away with the cubicles, too, in which you could have your chop, +prime chump, with a floury-potato, without seeing your +neighbours, like a gentleman. + +He tucked the top corner of his napkin behind the third button of +his waistcoat, a practice he had been obliged to abandon years +ago in the West End. He felt that he should relish his soup--the +entire morning had been given to winding up the estate of an old +friend. + +After filling his mouth with household bread, stale, he at once +began: "How are you going down to Robin Hill? You going to take +Irene? You'd better take her. I should think there'll be a lot +that'll want seeing to." + +Without looking up, Soames answered: "She won't go." + +"Won't go? What's the meaning of that? She's going to live in +the house, isn't she?" + +Soames made no reply. + +"I don't know what's coming to women nowadays," mumbled James; "I +never used to have any trouble with them. She's had too much +liberty. She's spoiled...." + +Soames lifted his eyes: "I won't have anything said against her," +he said unexpectedly. + +The silence was only broken now by the supping of James's soup. + +The waiter brought the two glasses of port, but Soames stopped +him. + +"That's not the way to serve port," he said; "take them away, and +bring the bottle." + +Rousing himself from his reverie over the soup, James took one of +his rapid shifting surveys of surrounding facts. + +"Your mother's in bed," he said; "you can have the carriage to +take you down. I should think Irene'd like the drive. This +young Bosinney'll be there, I suppose, to show you over" + +Soames nodded. + +"I should like to go and see for myself what sort of a job he's +made finishing off," pursued James. "I'll just drive round and +pick you both up." + +"I am going down by train," replied Soames. "If you like to +drive round and see, Irene might go with you, I can't tell." + +He signed to the waiter to bring the bill, which James paid. + +They parted at St. Paul's, Soames branching off to the station, +James taking his omnibus westwards. + +He had secured the corner seat next the conductor, where his long +legs made it difficult for anyone to get in, and at all who +passed him he looked resentfully, as if they had no business to +be using up his air. + +He intended to take an opportunity this afternoon of speaking to +Irene. A word in time saved nine; and now that she was going to +live in the country there was a chance for her to turn over a new +leaf! He could see that Soames wouldn't stand very much more of +her goings on! + +It did not occur to him to define what he meant by her 'goings +on'; the expression was wide, vague, and suited to a Forsyte. +And James had more than his common share of courage after lunch. + +On reaching home, he ordered out the barouche, with special +instructions that the groom was to go too. He wished to be kind +to her, and to give her every chance. + +When the door of No.62 was opened he could distinctly hear her +singing, and said so at once, to prevent any chance of being +denied entrance. + +Yes, Mrs. Soames was in, but the maid did not know if she was +seeing people. + +James, moving with the rapidity that ever astonished the +observers of his long figure and absorbed expression, went +forthwith into the drawing-room without permitting this to be +ascertained. He found Irene seated at the piano with her hands +arrested on the keys, evidently listening to the voices in the +hall. She greeted him without smiling. + +"Your mother-in-law's in bed," he began, hoping at once to enlist +her sympathy. "I've got the carriage here. Now, be a good girl, +and put on your hat and come with me for a drive. It'll do you +good!" + +Irene looked at him as though about to refuse, but, seeming to +change her mind, went upstairs, and came down again with her hat +on. + +"Where are you going to take me?" she asked. + +"We'll just go down to Robin Hill," said James, spluttering out +his words very quick; "the horses want exercise, and I should +like to see what they've been doing down there." + +Irene hung back, but again changed her mind, and went out to the +carriage, James brooding over her closely, to make quite sure. + +It was not before he had got her more than half way that he +began: "Soames is very fond of you--he won't have anything said +against you; why don't you show him more affection?" + +Irene flushed, and said in a low voice: "I can't show what I +haven't got." + +James looked at her sharply; he felt that now he had her in his +own carriage, with his own horses and servants, he was really in +command of the situation. She could not put him off; nor would +she make a scene in public. + +"I can't think what you're about," he said. "He's a very good +husband!" + +Irene's answer was so low as to be almost inaudible among the +sounds of traffic. He caught the words: "You are not married to +him!" + +"What's that got to do with it? He's given you everything you +want. He's always ready to take you anywhere, and now he's built +you this house in the country. It's not as if you had anything +of your own." + +"No." + +Again James looked at her; he could not make out the expression +on her face. She looked almost as if she were going to cry, and +yet.... + +"I'm sure," he muttered hastily, "we've all tried to be kind to +you." + +Irene's lips quivered; to his dismay James saw a tear steal down +her cheek. He felt a choke rise in his own throat. + +"We're all fond of you," he said, "if you'd only"--he was going +to say, "behave yourself," but changed it to--"if you'd only be +more of a wife to him." + +Irene did not answer, and James, too, ceased speaking. There was +something in her silence which disconcerted him; it was not the +silence of obstinacy, rather that of acquiescence in all that he +could find to say. And yet he felt as if he had not had the last +word. He could not understand this. + +He was unable, however, to long keep silence. + +"I suppose that young Bosinney," he said, "will be getting +married to June now?" + +Irene's face changed. "I don't know," she said; "you should ask +her." + +"Does she write to you?" No. + +"How's that?" said James. "I thought you and she were such great +friends." + +Irene turned on him. "Again," she said, "you should ask her!" + +"Well," flustered James, frightened by her look, "it's very odd +that I can't get a plain answer to a plain question, but there it +is." + +He sat ruminating over his rebuff, and burst out at last: + +"Well, I've warned you. You won't look ahead. Soames he doesn't +say much, but I can see he won't stand a great deal more of this +sort of thing. You'll have nobody but yourself to blame, and, +what's more, you'll get no sympathy from anybody." + +Irene bent her head with a little smiling bow. "I am very much +obliged to you." + +James did not know what on earth to answer. + +The bright hot morning had changed slowly to a grey, oppressive +afternoon; a heavy bank of clouds, with the yellow tinge of +coming thunder, had risen in the south, and was creeping up. + +The branches of the trees dropped motionless across the road +without the smallest stir of foliage. A faint odour of glue from +the heated horses clung in the thick air; the coachman and groom, +rigid and unbending, exchanged stealthy murmurs on the box, +without ever turning their heads. + +To James' great relief they reached the house at last; the +silence and impenetrability of this woman by his side, whom he +had always thought so soft and mild, alarmed him. + +The carriage put them down at the door, and they entered. + +The hall was cool, and so still that it was like passing into a +tomb; a shudder ran down James's spine. He quickly lifted the +heavy leather curtains between the columns into the inner court. + +He could not restrain an exclamation of approval. + +The decoration was really in excellent taste. The dull ruby +tiles that extended from the foot of the walls to the verge of a +circular clump of tall iris plants, surrounding in turn a sunken +basin of white marble filled with water, were obviously of the +best quality. He admired extremely the purple leather curtains +drawn along one entire side, framing a huge white-tiled stove. +The central partitions of the skylight had been slid back, and +the warm air from outside penetrated into the very heart of the +house. + +He stood, his hands behind him, his head bent back on his high, +narrow shoulders, spying the tracery on the columns and the +pattern of the frieze which ran round the, ivory-coloured walls +under the gallery. Evidently, no pains had been spared. It was +quite the house of a gentleman. He went up to the curtains, and, +having discovered how they were worked, drew them asunder and +disclosed the picture-gallery, ending in a great window taking up +the whole end of the room. It had a black oak floor, and its +walls, again, were of ivory white. He went on throwing open +doors, and peeping in. Everything was in apple-pie order, ready +for immediate occupation. + +He turned round at last to speak to Irene, and saw her standing +over in the garden entrance, with her husband and Bosinney. + +Though not remarkable for sensibility, James felt at once that +something was wrong. He went up to them, and, vaguely alarmed, +ignorant of the nature of the trouble, made an attempt to smooth +things over. + +"How are you, Mr. Bosinney?" he said, holding out his hand. +"You've been spending money pretty freely down here, I should +say!" + +Soames turned his back, and walked away. + +James looked from Bosinney's frowning face to Irene, and, in his +agitation, spoke his thoughts aloud: "Well, I can't tell what's + +the matter. Nobody tells me anything!" And, making off after his +son, he heard Bosinney's short laugh, and his "Well, thank God! +You look so...." Most unfortunately he lost the rest. + +What had happened? He glanced back. Irene was very close to the +architect, and her face not like the face he knew of her. He +hastened up to his son. + +Soames was pacing the picture-gallery. + +"What's the matter?" said James. "What's all this?" + +Soames looked at him with his supercilious calm unbroken, but +James knew well enough that he was violently angry. + +"Our friend," he said, "has exceeded his instructions again, +that's all. So much the worse for him this time." + +He turned round and walked back towards the door. James followed +hurriedly, edging himself in front. He saw Irene take her finger +from before her lips, heard her say something in her ordinary +voice, and began to speak before he reached them. + +"There's a storm coming on. We'd better get home. We can't take +you, I suppose, Mr. Bosinney? No, I suppose not. Then, +good-bye!" He held out his hand. Bosinney did not take it, but, +turning with a laugh, said: + +"Good-bye, Mr. Forsyte. Don't get caught in the storm!" and +walked away. + +"Well," began James, "I don't know...." + +But the 'sight of Irene's face stopped him. Taking hold of his +daughter-in-law by the elbow, he escorted her towards the +carriage. He felt certain, quite certain, they had been making +some appointment or other.... + +Nothing in this world is more sure to upset a Forsyte than the +discovery that something on which he has stipulated to spend a +certain sum has cost more. And this is reasonable, for upon the +accuracy of his estimates the whole policy of his life is +ordered. If he cannot rely on definite values of property, his +compass is amiss; he is adrift upon bitter waters without a helm. + +After writing to Bosinney in the terms that have already been +chronicled, Soames had dismissed the cost of the house from his +mind. He believed that he had made the matter of the final cost +so very plain that the possibility of its being again exceeded +had really never entered his head. On hearing from Bosinney that +his limit of twelve thousand pounds would be exceeded by some- +thing like four hundred, he had grown white with anger. His +original estimate of the cost of the house completed had been ten +thousand pounds, and he had often blamed himself severely for +allowing himself to be led into repeated excesses. Over this +last expenditure, however, Bosinney had put himself completely in +the wrong. How on earth a fellow could make such an ass of +himself Soames could not conceive; but he had done so, and all +the rancour and hidden jealousy that had been burning against him +for so long was now focussed in rage at this crowning piece of +extravagance. The attitude of the confident and friendly husband +was gone. To preserve property--his wife--he had assumed it, to +preserve property of another kind he lost it now. + +"Ah!" he had said to Bosinney when he could speak, "and I suppose +you're perfectly contented with yourself. But I may as well tell +you that you've altogether mistaken your man!" + +What he meant by those words he did not quite know at the time, +but after dinner he looked up the correspondence between himself +and Bosinney to make quite sure. There could be no two opinions +about it--the fellow had made himself liable for that extra four +hundred, or, at all events, for three hundred and fifty of it, +and he would have to make it good. + +He was looking at his wife's face when he came to this conclusion. +Seated in her usual seat on the sofa, she was altering the lace +on a collar. She had not once spoken to him all the evening. + +He went up to the mantelpiece, and contemplating his face in the +mirror said: "Your friend the Buccaneer has made a fool of +himself; he will have to pay for it!" + +She looked at him scornfully, and answered: "I don't know what +you are talking about!" + +"You soon will. A mere trifle, quite beneath your contempt--four +hundred pounds." + +"Do you mean that you are going to make him pay that towards this +hateful, house?" + +"I do." + +"And you know he's got nothing?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you are meaner than I thought you." + +Soames turned from the mirror, and unconsciously taking a china +cup from the mantelpiece, clasped his hands around it as though +praying. He saw her bosom rise and fall, her eyes darkening with +anger, and taking no notice of the taunt, he asked quietly: + +"Are you carrying on a flirtation with Bosinney?" + +"No, I am not!" + +Her eyes met his, and he looked away. He neither believed nor +disbelieved her, but he knew that he had made a mistake in +asking; he never had known, never would know, what she was +thinking. The sight of her inscrutable face, the thought of all +the hundreds of evenings he had seen her sitting there like that +soft and passive, but unreadable, unknown, enraged him beyond +measure. + +"I believe you are made of stone," he said, clenching his fingers +so hard that he broke the fragile cup. The pieces fell into the +grate. And Irene smiled. + +"You seem to forget," she said, "that cup is not!" + +Soames gripped her arm. "A good beating," he said, "is the only +thing that would bring you to your senses," but turning on his +heel, he left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOAMES SITS ON THE STAIRS + + +Soames went upstairs that night that he had gone too far. He was +prepared to offer excuses for his words. + +He turned out the gas still burning in the passage outside their +room. Pausing, with his hand on the knob of the door, he tried +to shape his apology, for he had no intention of letting her see +that he was nervous. + +But the door did not open, nor when he pulled it and turned the +handle firmly. She must have locked it for some reason, and +forgotten. + +Entering his dressing-room, where the gas was also light and +burning low, he went quickly to the other door. That too was +locked. Then he noticed that the camp bed which he occasionally +used was prepared, and his sleeping-suit laid out upon it. He +put his hand up to his forehead, and brought it away wet. It +dawned on him that he was barred out. + +He went back to the door, and rattling the handle stealthily, +called: "Unlock the door, do you hear? Unlock the door!" + +There was a faint rustling, but no answer. + +"Do you hear? Let me in at once--I insist on being let in!" + +He could catch the sound of her breathing close to the door, like +the breathing of a creature threatened by danger. + +There was something terrifying in this inexorable silence, in the +impossibility of getting at her. He went back to the other door, +and putting his whole weight against it, tried to burst it open. +The door was a new one--he had had them renewed himself, in +readiness for their coming in after the honeymoon. In a rage he +lifted his foot to kick in the panel; the thought of the servants +restrained him, and he felt suddenly that he was beaten. + +Flinging himself down in the dressing-room, he took up a book. + +But instead of the print he seemed to see his wife--with her +yellow hair flowing over her bare shoulders, and her great dark +eyes--standing like an animal at bay. And the whole meaning of +her act of revolt came to him. She meant it to be for good. + +He could not sit still, and went to the door again. He could +still hear her, and he called: "Irene! Irene!" + +He did not mean to make his voice pathetic. + +In ominous answer, the faint sounds ceased. He stood with +clenched hands, thinking. + +Presently he stole round on tiptoe, and running suddenly at the +other door, made a supreme effort to break it open. It creaked, +but did not yield. He sat down on the stairs and buried his face +in his hands. + +For a long time he sat there in the dark, the moon through the +skylight above laying a pale smear which lengthened slowly +towards him down the stairway. He tried to be philosophical. + +Since she had locked her doors she had no further claim as a +wife, and he would console himself with other women. + +It was but a spectral journey he made among such delights--he had +no appetite for these exploits. He had never had much, and he +had lost the habit. He felt that he could never recover it. His +hunger could only be appeased by his wife, inexorable and +frightened, behind these shut doors. No other woman could help +him. + +This conviction came to him with terrible force out there in the +dark. + +His philosophy left him; and surly anger took its place. Her +conduct was immoral, inexcusable, worthy of any punishment within +his power. He desired no one but her, and she refused him! + +She must really hate him, then! He had never believed it yet. +He did not believe it now. It seemed to him incredible. He felt +as though he had lost for ever his power of judgment. If she, so +soft and yielding as he had always judged her, could take this +decided step--what could not happen? + +Then he asked himself again if she were carrying on an intrigue +with Bosinney. He did not believe that she was; he could not +afford to believe such a reason for her conduct--the thought was +not to be faced. + +It would be unbearable to contemplate the necessity of making his +marital relations public property. Short of the most convincing +proofs he must still refuse to believe, for he did not wish to +punish himself. And all the time at heart--he did believe. + +The moonlight cast a greyish tinge over his figure, hunched +against the staircase wall. + +Bosinney was in love with her! He hated the fellow, and would +not spare him now. He could and would refuse to pay a penny +piece over twelve thousand and fifty pounds--the extreme limit +fixed in the correspondence; or rather he would pay, he would pay +and sue him for damages. He would go to Jobling and Boulter and +put the matter in their hands. He would ruin the impecunious +beggar! And suddenly--though what connection between the +thoughts?--he reflected that Irene had no money either. They +were both beggars. This gave him a strange satisfaction. + +The silence was broken by a faint creaking through the wall. She +was going to bed at last. Ah! Joy and pleasant dreams! If she +threw the door open wide he would not go in now! + +But his lips, that were twisted in a bitter smile, twitched; he +covered his eyes with his hands.... + +It was late the following afternoon when Soames stood in the +dining-room window gazing gloomily into the Square. + +The sunlight still showered on the plane-trees, and in the breeze +their gay broad leaves shone and swung in rhyme to a barrel organ +at the corner. It was playing a waltz, an old waltz that was out +of fashion, with a fateful rhythm in the notes; and it went on +and on, though nothing indeed but leaves danced to the tune. + +The woman did not look too gay, for she was tired; and from the +tall houses no one threw her down coppers. She moved the organ +on, and three doors off began again. + +It was the waltz they had played at Roger's when Irene had danced +with Bosinney; and the perfume of the gardenias she had worn came +back to Soames, drifted by the malicious music, as it had been +drifted to him then, when she passed, her hair glistening, her +eyes so soft, drawing Bosinney on and on down an endless +ballroom. + +The organ woman plied her handle slowly; she had been grinding +her tune all day-grinding it in Sloane Street hard by, grinding +it perhaps to Bosinney himself. + +Soames turned, took a cigarette from the carven box, and walked +back to the window. The tune had mesmerized him, and there came +into his view Irene, her sunshade furled, hastening homewards +down the Square, in a soft, rose-coloured blouse with drooping +sleeves, that he did not know. She stopped before the organ, +took out her purse, and gave the woman money. + +Soames shrank back and stood where he could see into the hall. + +She came in with her latch-key, put down her sunshade, and stood +looking at herself in the glass. Her cheeks were flushed as if +the sun had burned them; her lips were parted in a smile. She +stretched her arms out as though to embrace herself, with a laugh +that for all the world was like a sob. + +Soames stepped forward. + +"Very-pretty!" he said. + +But as though shot she spun round, and would have passed him up +the stairs. He barred the way. + +"Why such a hurry?" he said, and his eyes fastened on a curl of +hair fallen loose across her ear.... + +He hardly recognised her. She seemed on fire, so deep and rich + +the colour of her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, and of the unusual +blouse she wore. + +She put up her hand and smoothed back the curl. She was +breathing fast and deep, as though she had been running, and with +every breath perfume seemed to come from her hair, and from her +body, like perfume from an opening flower. + +"I don't like that blouse," he said slowly, "it's a soft, +shapeless thing!" + +He lifted his finger towards her breast, but she dashed his hand +aside. + +"Don't touch me!" she cried. + +He caught her wrist; she wrenched it away. + +"And where may you have been?" he asked. + +"In heaven--out of this house!" With those words she fled +upstairs. + +Outside--in thanksgiving--at the very door, the organ-grinder was +playing the waltz. + +And Soames stood motionless. What prevented him from following +her? + +Was it that, with the eyes of faith, he saw Bosinney looking down +from that high window in Sloane Street, straining his eyes for +yet another glimpse of Irene's vanished figure, cooling his +flushed face, dreaming of the moment when she flung herself on +his breast--the scent of her still in the air around, and the +sound of her laugh that was like a sob? + + + + + +PART III + + +CHAPTER I + +Mrs. MAcANDER'S EVIDENCE + + +Many people, no doubt, including the editor of the 'Ultra +Vivisectionist,' then in the bloom of its first youth, would say +that Soames was less than a man not to have removed the locks +from his wife's doors, and, after beating her soundly, resumed +wedded happiness. + +Brutality is not so deplorably diluted by humaneness as it used +to be, yet a sentimental segment of the population may still be +relieved to learn that he did none of these things. For active +brutality, is not popular with Forsytes; they are too +circumspect, and, on the whole, too softhearted. And in Soames +there was some common pride, not sufficient to make him do a +really generous action, but enough to prevent his indulging in an +extremely mean one, except, perhaps, in very hot blood. Above +all this true Forsyte refused to feel himself ridiculous. Short +of actually beating his wife, he perceived nothing to be done; he +therefore accepted the situation without another word. + +Throughout the summer and autumn he continued to go to the +office, to sort his pictures, and ask his friends to dinner. + +He did not leave town; Irene refused to go away. The house at +Robin Hill, finished though it was, remained empty and ownerless. +Soames had brought a suit against the Buccaneer, in which he +claimed from him the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds. + +A firm of solicitors, Messrs. Freak and Able, had put in a +defence on Bosinney's behalf. Admitting the facts, they raised a +point on the correspondence which, divested of legal phraseology, +amounted to this: To speak of 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence' is an Irish bull. + +By a chance, fortuitous but not improbable in the close borough +of legal circles, a good deal of information came to Soames' ear +anent this line of policy, the working partner in his firm, +Bustard, happening to sit next at dinner at Walmisley's, the +Taxing Master, to young Chankery, of the Common Law Bar. + +The necessity for talking what is known as 'shop,' which comes on +all lawyers with the removal of the ladies, caused Chankery, a +young and promising advocate, to propound an impersonal conundrum +to his neighbour, whose name he did not know, for, seated as he +permanently was in the background, Bustard had practically no +name. + +He had, said Chankery, a case coming on with a 'very nice point.' +He then explained, preserving every professional discretion, the +riddle in Soames' case. Everyone, he said, to whom he had +spoken, thought it a nice point. The issue was small +unfortunately, 'though d----d serious for his client he +believed'--Walmisley's champagne was bad but plentiful. A Judge +would make short work of it, he was afraid. He intended to make +a big effort--the point was a nice one. What did his neighbour +say? + +Bustard, a model of secrecy, said nothing. He related the +incident to Soames however with some malice, for this quiet man +was capable of human feeling, ending with his own opinion that +the point was 'a very nice one.' + +In accordance with his resolve, our Forsyte had put his interests +into the hands of Jobling and Boulter. From the moment of doing +so he regretted that he had not acted for himself. On receiving +a copy of Bosinney's defence he went over to their offices. + +Boulter, who had the matter in hand, Jobling having died some +years before, told him that in his opinion it was rather a nice +point; he would like counsel's opinion on it. + +Soames told him to go to a good man, and they went to Waterbuck, +Q.C., marking him ten and one, who kept the papers six weeks and +then wrote as follows + +'In my opinion the true interpretation of this correspondence +depends very much on the intention of the parties, and will turn +upon the evidence given at the trial. I am of opinion that an +attempt should be made to secure from the architect an admission +that he understood he was not to spend at the outside more than +twelve thousand and fifty pounds. With regard to the expression, +"a free hand in the terms of this correspondence," to which my +attention is directed, the point is a nice one; but I am of +opinion that upon the whole the ruling in "Boileau v. The +Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.," will apply.' + +Upon this opinion they acted, administering interrogatories, but +to their annoyance Messrs. Freak and Able answered these in so +masterly a fashion that nothing whatever was admitted and that +without prejudice. + +It was on October 1 that Soames read Waterbuck's opinion, in the +dining-room before dinner. + +It made him nervous; not so much because of the case of 'Boileau +v. The Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.,' as that the point had lately +begun to seem to him, too, a nice one; there was about it just +that pleasant flavour of subtlety so attractive to the best legal +appetites. To have his own impression confirmed by Waterbuck, +Q.C., would have disturbed any man. + +He sat thinking it over, and staring at the empty grate, for +though autumn had come, the weather kept as gloriously fine that +jubilee year as if it were still high August. It was not +pleasant to be disturbed; he desired too passionately to set his +foot on Bosinney's neck. + +Though he had not seen the architect since the last afternoon at +Robin Hill, he was never free from the sense of his presence-- +never free from the memory of his worn face with its high cheek +bones and enthusiastic eyes. It would riot be too much to say +that he had never got rid of the feeling of that night when he +heard the peacock's cry at dawn--the feeling that Bosinney +haunted the house. And every man's shape that he saw in the dark +evenings walking past, seemed that of him whom George had so +appropriately named the Buccaneer. + +Irene still met him, he was certain; where, or how, he neither +knew, nor asked; deterred by a vague and secret dread of too much +knowledge. It all seemed subterranean nowadays. + +Sometimes when he questioned his wife as to where she had been, +which he still made a point of doing, as every Forsyte should, +she looked very strange. Her self-possession was wonderful, but +there were moments when, behind the mask of her face, inscrutable +as it had always been to him, lurked an expression he had never +been used to see there. + +She had taken to lunching out too; when he asked Bilson if her +mistress had been in to lunch, as often as not she would answer: +"No, sir." + +He strongly disapproved of her gadding about by herself, and told +her so. But she took no notice. There was something that +angered, amazed, yet almost amused, him about the calm way in +which she disregarded his wishes. It was really as if she were +hugging to herself the thought of a triumph over him. + +He rose from the perusal of Waterbuck, Q.C.'s opinion, and, going +upstairs, entered her room, for she did not lock her doors till +bed-time--she had the decency, he found, to save the feelings of +the servants. She was brushing her hair, and turned to him with +strange fierceness. + +"What do you want?" she said. "Please leave my room!" + +He answered: "I want to know how long this state of things +between us is to last? I have put up with it long enough." + +"Will you please leave my room?" + +"Will you treat me as your husband?" + +"No." + +"Then, I shall take steps to make you." + +"Do!" + +He stared, amazed at the calmness of her answer. Her lips were +compressed in a thin line; her hair lay in fluffy masses on her +bare shoulders, in all its strange golden contrast to her dark +eyes--those eyes alive with the emotions of fear, hate, contempt, +and odd, haunting triumph. + +"Now, please, will you leave my room?" He turned round, and went +sulkily out. + +He knew very well that he had no intention of taking steps, and +he saw that she knew too--knew that he was afraid to. + +It was a habit with him to tell her the doings of his day: how +such and such clients had called; how he had arranged a mortgage +for Parkes; how that long-standing suit of Fryer v. Forsyte was +getting on, which, arising in the preternaturally careful +disposition of his property by his great uncle Nicholas, who had +tied it up so that no one could get at it at all, seemed likely +to remain a source of income for several solicitors till the Day +of Judgment. + +And how he had called in at Jobson's, and seen a Boucher sold, +which he had just missed buying of Talleyrand and Sons in Pall +Mall. + +He had an admiration for Boucher, Watteau, and all that school. +It was a habit with him to tell her all these matters, and he +continued to do it even now, talking for long spells at dinner, +as though by the volubility of words he could conceal from +himself the ache in his heart. + +Often, if they were alone, he made an attempt to kiss her when +she said good-night. He may have had some vague notion that some +night she would let him; or perhaps only the feeling that a +husband ought to kiss his wife. Even if she hated him, he at all +events ought not to put himself in the wrong by neglecting this +ancient rite. + +And why did she hate him? Even now he could not altogether +believe it. It was strange to be hated!--the emotion was too +extreme; yet he hated Bosinney, that Buccaneer, that prowling +vagabond, that night-wanderer. For in his thoughts Soames always +saw him lying in wait--wandering. Ah, but he must be in very low +water! Young Burkitt, the architect, had seen him coming out of +a third-rate restaurant, looking terribly down in the mouth! + +During all the hours he lay awake, thinking over the situation, +which seemed to have no end--unless she should suddenly come to +her senses--never once did the thought of separating from his +wife seriously enter his head.... + +And the Forsytes! What part did they play in this stage of +Soames' subterranean tragedy? + +Truth to say, little or none, for they were at the sea. + +>From hotels, hydropathics, or lodging-houses, they were bathing +daily; laying in a stock of ozone to last them through the +winter. + +Each section, in the vineyard of its own choosing, grew and +culled and pressed and bottled the grapes of a pet sea-air. + +The end of September began to witness their several returns. + +In rude health and small omnibuses, with considerable colour in +their cheeks, they arrived daily from the various termini. The +following morning saw them back at their vocations. + +On the next Sunday Timothy's was thronged from lunch till dinner. + +Amongst other gossip, too numerous and interesting to relate, +Mrs. Septimus Small mentioned that Soames and Irene had not been +away. + +It remained for a comparative outsider to supply the next +evidence of interest. + +It chanced that one afternoon late in September, Mrs. MacAnder, +Winifred Dartie's greatest friend, taking a constitutional, with +young Augustus Flippard, on her bicycle in Richmond Park, passed +Irene and Bosinney walking from the bracken towards the Sheen +Gate. + +Perhaps the poor little woman was thirsty, for she had ridden +long on a hard, dry road, and, as all London knows, to ride a +bicycle and talk to young Flippard will try the toughest +constitution; or perhaps the sight of the cool bracken grove, +whence 'those two' were coming down, excited her envy. The cool +bracken grove on the top of the hill, with the oak boughs for +roof, where the pigeons were raising an endless wedding hymn, and +the autumn, humming, whispered to the ears of lovers in the fern, +while the deer stole by. The bracken grove of irretrievable +delights, of golden minutes in the long marriage of heaven and +earth! The bracken grove, sacred to stags, to strange tree-stump +fauns leaping around the silver whiteness of a birch-tree nymph +at summer dusk + +This lady knew all the Forsytes, and having been at June's 'at +home,' was not at a loss to see with whom she had to deal. Her +own marriage, poor thing, had not been successful, but having +had the good sense and ability to force her husband into +pronounced error, she herself had passed through the necessary +divorce proceedings without incurring censure. + +She was therefore a judge of all that sort of thing, and lived in +one of those large buildings, where in small sets of apartments, +are gathered incredible quantities of Forsytes, whose chief +recreation out of business hours is the discussion of each +other's affairs. + +Poor little woman, perhaps she was thirsty, certainly she was +bored, for Flippard was a wit. To see 'those two' in so unlikely +a spot was quite a merciful 'pick-me-up.' + +At the MacAnder, like all London, Time pauses. + +This small but remarkable woman merits attention; her all-seeing +eye and shrewd tongue were inscrutably the means of furthering +the ends of Providence. + +With an air of being in at the death, she had an almost +distressing power of taking care of herself. She had done more, +perhaps, in her way than any woman about town to destroy the +sense of chivalry which still clogs the wheel of civilization. +So smart she was, and spoken of endearingly as 'the little +MacAnder!' + +Dressing tightly and well, she belonged to a Woman's Club, but +was by no means the neurotic and dismal type of member who was +always thinking of her rights. She took her rights unconsciously, +they came natural to her, and she knew exactly how to make the +most of them without exciting anything but admiration amongst +that great class to whom she was affiliated, not precisely +perhaps by manner, but by birth, breeding, and the true, the +secret gauge, a sense of property. + +The daughter of a Bedfordshire solicitor, by the daughter of a +clergyman, she had never, through all the painful experience of +being married to a very mild painter with a cranky love of +Nature, who had deserted her for an actress, lost touch with the +requirements, beliefs, and inner feeling of Society; and, on +attaining her liberty, she placed herself without effort in the +very van of Forsyteism. + +Always in good spirits, and 'full of information,' she was +universally welcomed. She excited neither surprise nor +disapprobation when encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, +either alone, or travelling with a lady and two gentlemen; it was +felt that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; +and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that wonderful instinct, +which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving anything +away. It was generally felt that to such women as Mrs. MacAnder +should we look for the perpetuation and increase of our best type +of woman. She had never had any children. + +If there was one thing more than another that she could not stand +it was one of those soft women with what men called 'charm' about +them, and for Mrs. Soames she always had an especial dislike. + +Obscurely, no doubt, she felt that if charm were once admitted as +the criterion, smartness and capability must go to the wall; and +she hated--with a hatred the deeper that at times this so-called +charm seemed to disturb all calculations--the subtle seductiveness +which she could not altogether overlook in Irene. + +She said, however, that she could see nothing in the woman--there +was no 'go' about her--she would never be able to stand up for +herself--anyone could take advantage of her, that was plain--she +could not see in fact what men found to admire! + +She was not really ill-natured, but, in maintaining her position +after the trying circumstances of her married life, she had found +it so necessary to be 'full of information,' that the idea of +holding her tongue about 'those two' in the Park never occurred +to her. + +And it so happened that she was dining that very evening at +Timothy's, where she went sometimes to 'cheer the old things up,' +as she was wont to put it. The same people were always asked to +meet her: Winifred Dartie and her husband; Francie, because she +belonged to the artistic circles, for Mrs. MacAnder was known to +contribute articles on dress to 'The Ladies Kingdom Come'; and +for her to flirt with, provided they could be obtained, two of +the Hayman boys, who, though they never said anything, were +believed to be fast and thoroughly intimate with all that was +latest in smart Society. + +At twenty-five minutes past seven she turned out the electric +light in her little hall, and wrapped in her opera cloak with the +chinchilla collar, came out into the corridor, pausing a moment +to make sure she had her latch-key. These little self-contained +flats were convenient; to be sure, she had no light and no air, +but she could shut it up whenever she liked and go away. There +was no bother with servants, and she never felt tied as she used +to when poor, dear Fred was always about, in his mooney way. She +retained no rancour against poor, dear Fred, he was such a fool; +but the thought of that actress drew from her, even now, a +little, bitter, derisive smile. + +Firmly snapping the door to, she crossed the corridor, with its +gloomy, yellow-ochre walls, and its infinite vista of brown, +numbered doors. The lift was going down; and wrapped to the ears +in the high cloak, with every one of her auburn hairs in its +place, she waited motionless for it to stop at her floor. The +iron gates clanked open; she entered. There were already three +occupants, a man in a great white waistcoat, with a large, smooth +face like a baby's, and two old ladies in black, with mittened +hands. + +Mrs. MacAnder smiled at them; she knew everybody; and all these +three, who had been admirably silent before, began to talk at +once. This was Mrs. MacAnder's successful secret. She provoked +conversation. + +Throughout a descent of five stories the conversation continued, +the lift boy standing with his back turned, his cynical face +protruding through the bars. + +At the bottom they separated, the man in the white waistcoat +sentimentally to the billiard room, the old ladies to dine and +say to each other: "A dear little woman!" "Such a rattle!" and +Mrs. MacAnder to her cab. + +When Mrs. MacAnder dined at Timothy's, the conversation (although +Timothy himself could never be induced to be present) took that +wider, man-of-the-world tone current among Forsytes at large, and +this, no doubt, was what put her at a premium there. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester found it an exhilarating change. "If +only," they said, "Timothy would meet her!" It was felt that she +would do him good. She could tell you, for instance, the latest +story of Sir Charles Fiste's son at Monte Carlo; who was the real +heroine of Tynemouth Eddy's fashionable novel that everyone was +holding up their hands over, and what they were doing in Paris +about wearing bloomers. She was so sensible, too, knowing all +about that vexed question, whether to send young Nicholas' eldest +into the navy as his mother wished, or make him an accountant as +his father thought would be safer. She strongly deprecated the +navy. If you were not exceptionally brilliant or exceptionally +well connected, they passed you over so disgracefully, and what +was it after all to look forward to, even if you became an +admiral--a pittance! An accountant had many more chances, but +let him be put with a good firm, where there was no risk at +starting! + +Sometimes she would give them a tip on the Stock Exchange; not +that Mrs. Small or Aunt Hester ever took it. They had indeed no +money to invest; but it seemed to bring them into such exciting +touch with the realities of life. It was an event. They would +ask Timothy, they said. But they never did, knowing in advance +that it would upset him. Surreptitiously, however, for weeks +after they would look in that paper, which they took with respect +on account of its really fashionable proclivities, to see whether +'Bright's Rubies' or 'The Woollen Mackintosh Company' were up or +down. Sometimes they could not find the name of the company at +all; and they would wait until James or Roger or even Swithin +came in, and ask them in voices trembling with curiosity how that +'Bolivia Lime and Speltrate was doing--they could not find it in +the paper. + +And Roger would answer: "What do you want to know for? Some +trash! You'll go burning your fingers--investing your money in +lime, and things you know nothing about! Who told you?" and +ascertaining what they had been told, he would go away, and, +making inquiries in the City, would perhaps invest some of his +own money in the concern. + +It was about the middle of dinner, just in fact as the saddle of +mutton had been brought in by Smither, that Mrs. MacAnder, +looking airily round, said: "Oh! and whom do you think I passed +to-day in Richmond Park? You'll never guess--Mrs. Soames and-- +Mr. Bosinney. They must have been down to look at the house!" + +Winifred Dartie coughed, and no one said a word. It was the +piece of evidence they had all unconsciously been waiting for. + +To do Mrs. MacAnder justice, she had been to Switzerland and the +Italian lakes with a party of three, and had not heard of Soames' +rupture with his architect. She could not tell, therefore, the +profound impression her words would make. + +Upright and a little flushed, she moved her small, shrewd eyes +from face to face, trying to gauge the effect of her words. On +either side of her a Hayman boy, his lean, taciturn, hungry face +turned towards his plate, ate his mutton steadily. + +These two, Giles and Jesse, were so alike and so inseparable that +they were known as the Dromios. They never talked, and seemed +always completely occupied in doing nothing. It was popularly +supposed that they were cramming for an important examination. +They walked without hats for long hours in the Gardens attached +to their house, books in their hands, a fox-terrier at their +heels, never saying a word, and smoking all the time. Every +morning, about fifty yards apart, they trotted down Campden Hill +on two lean hacks, with legs as long as their own, and every +morning about an hour later, still fifty yards apart, they +cantered up again. Every evening, wherever they had dined, they +might be observed about half-past ten, leaning over the +balustrade of the Alhambra promenade. + +They were never seen otherwise than together; in this way passing +their lives, apparently perfectly content. + +Inspired by some dumb stirring within them of the feelings of +gentlemen, they turned at this painful moment to Mrs. MacAnder, +and said in precisely the same voice: "Have you seen the...?" + +Such was her surprise at being thus addressed that she put down +her fork; and Smither, who was passing, promptly removed her +plate. Mrs. MacAnder, however, with presence of mind, said +instantly: "I must have a little more of that nice mutton." + +But afterwards in the drawing--room she sat down by Mrs. Small, +determined to get to the bottom of the matter. And she began: + +"What a charming woman, Mrs. Soames; such a sympathetic +temperament! Soames is a really lucky man!" + +Her anxiety for information had not made sufficient allowance for +that inner Forsyte skin which refuses to share its troubles with +outsiders. + +Mrs. Septimus Small, drawing herself up with a creak and rustle +of her whole person, said, shivering in her dignity: + +"My dear, it is a subject we do not talk about!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +NIGHT IN THE PARK + + +Although with her infallible instinct Mrs. Small had said the +very thing to make her guest 'more intriguee than ever,' it is +difficult to see how else she could truthfully have spoken. + +It was not a subject which the Forsytes could talk about even +among themselves--to use the word Soames had invented to +characterize to himself the situation, it was 'subterranean.' + +Yet, within a week of Mrs. MacAnder's encounter in Richmond Park, +to all of them--save Timothy, from whom it was carefully kept--to +James on his domestic beat from the Poultry to Park Lane, to +George the wild one, on his daily adventure from the bow window +at the Haversnake to the billiard room at the 'Red Pottle,' was +it known that 'those two' had gone to extremes. + +George (it was he who invented many of those striking expressions +still current in fashionable circles) voiced the sentiment more +accurately than any one when he said to his brother Eustace that +'the Buccaneer' was 'going it'; he expected Soames was about 'fed +up.' + +It was felt that he must be, and yet, what could be done? He +ought perhaps to take steps; but to take steps would be +deplorable. + +Without an open scandal which they could not see their way to +recommending, it was difficult to see what steps could be taken. +In this impasse, the only thing was to say nothing to Soames, and +nothing to each other; in fact, to pass it over. + +By displaying towards Irene a dignified coldness, some impression +might be made upon her; but she was seldom now to be seen, and +there seemed a slight difficulty in seeking her out on purpose to +show her coldness. Sometimes in the privacy of his bedroom James +would reveal to Emily the real suffering that his son's +misfortune caused him. + +"I can't tell," he would say; "it worries me out of my life. +There'll be a scandal, and that'll do him no good. I shan't say +anything to him. There might be nothing in it. What do you +think? She's very artistic, they tell me. What? Oh, you're a +'regular Juley! Well, I don't know; I expect the worst. This is +what comes of having no children. I knew how it would be from +the first. They never told me they didn't mean to have any +children--nobody tells me anything!" + +On his knees by the side of the bed, his eyes open and fixed with +worry, he would breathe into the counterpane. Clad in his +nightshirt, his neck poked forward, his back rounded, he +resembled some long white bird. + +"Our Father-," he repeated, turning over and over again the +thought of this possible scandal. + +Like old Jolyon, he, too, at the bottom of his heart set the +blame of the tragedy down to family interference. What business +had that lot--he began to think of the Stanhope Gate branch, +including young Jolyon and his daughter, as 'that lot'--to +introduce a person like this Bosinney into the family? (He had +heard George's soubriquet, 'The Buccaneer,' but he could make +nothing of that--the young man was an architect.) + +He began to feel that his brother Jolyon, to whom he had always +looked up and on whose opinion he had relied, was not quite what +he had expected. + +Not having his eldest brother's force of character, he was more +sad than angry. His great comfort was to go to Winifred's, and +take the little Darties in his carriage over to Kensington +Gardens, and there, by the Round Pond, he could often be seen +walking with his eyes fixed anxiously on little Publius Dartie's +sailing-boat, which he had himself freighted with a penny, as +though convinced that it would never again come to shore; while +little Publius--who, James delighted to say, was not a bit like +his father skipping along under his lee, would try to get him to +bet another that it never would, having found that it always did. +And James would make the bet; he always paid--sometimes as many +as three or four pennies in the afternoon, for the game seemed +never to pall on little Publius--and always in paying he said: +"Now, that's for your money-box. Why, you're getting quite a +rich man!" The thought of his little grandson's growing wealth +was a real pleasure to him. But little Publius knew a +sweet-shop, and a trick worth two of that. + +And they would walk home across the Park, James' figure, with +high shoulders and absorbed and worried face, exercising its +tall, lean protectorship, pathetically unregarded, over the +robust child-figures of Imogen and little Publius. + +But those Gardens and that Park were not sacred to James. +Forsytes and tramps, children and lovers, rested and wandered day +after day, night after night, seeking one and all some freedom +from labour, from the reek and turmoil of the streets. + +The leaves browned slowly, lingering with the sun and summer-like +warmth of the nights. + +On Saturday, October 5, the sky that had been blue all day +deepened after sunset to the bloom of purple grapes. There was +no moon, and a clear dark, like some velvety garment, was wrapped +around the trees, whose thinned branches, resembling plumes, +stirred not in the still, warm air. All London had poured into +the Park, draining the cup of summer to its dregs. + +Couple after couple, from every gate, they streamed along the +paths and over the burnt grass, and one after another, silently +out of the lighted spaces, stole into the shelter of the feathery +trees, where, blotted against some trunk, or under the shadow of +shrubs, they were lost to all but themselves in the heart of the +soft darkness. + +To fresh-comers along the paths, these forerunners formed but +part of that passionate dusk, whence only a strange murmur, like +the confused beating of hearts, came forth. But when that murmur +reached each couple in the lamp-light their voices wavered, and +ceased; their arms enlaced, their eyes began seeking, searching, +probing the blackness. Suddenly, as though drawn by invisible +hands, they, too, stepped over the railing, and, silent as +shadows, were gone from the light. + +The stillness, enclosed in the far, inexorable roar of the town, +was alive with the myriad passions, hopes, and loves of +multitudes of struggling human atoms; for in spite of the +disapproval of that great body of Forsytes, the Municipal +Council--to whom Love had long been considered, next to the +Sewage Question, the gravest danger to the community--a process +was going on that night in the Park, and in a hundred other +parks, without which the thousand factories, churches, shops, +taxes, and drains, of which they were custodians, were as +arteries without blood, a man without a heart. + +The instincts of self-forgetfulness, of passion, and of love, +hiding under the trees, away from the trustees of their +remorseless enemy, the 'sense of property,' were holding a +stealthy revel, and Soames, returning from Bayswater for he had +been alone to dine at Timothy's walking home along the water, +with his mind upon that coming lawsuit, had the blood driven from +his heart by a low laugh and the sound of kisses. He thought of +writing to the Times the next morning, to draw the attention of +the Editor to the condition of our parks. He did not, however, +for he had a horror of seeing his name in print. + +But starved as he was, the whispered sounds in the stillness, the +half-seen forms in the dark, acted on him like some morbid +stimulant. He left the path along the water and stole under the +trees, along the deep shadow of little plantations, where the +boughs of chestnut trees hung their great leaves low, and there +was blacker refuge, shaping his course in circles which had for +their object a stealthy inspection of chairs side by side, +against tree-trunks, of enlaced lovers, who stirred at his +approach. + +Now he stood still on the rise overlooking the Serpentine, where, +in full lamp-light, black against the silver water, sat a couple +who never moved, the woman's face buried on the man's neck--a +single form, like a carved emblem of passion, silent and +unashamed. + +And, stung by the sight, Soames hurried on deeper into the shadow +of the trees. + +In this search, who knows what he thought and what he sought? +Bread for hunger--light in darkness? Who knows what he expected +to find--impersonal knowledge of the human heart--the end of his +private subterranean tragedy--for, again, who knew, but that each +dark couple, unnamed, unnameable, might not be he and she? + +But it could not be such knowledge as this that he was seeking-- +the wife of Soames Forsyte sitting in the Park like a common +wench! Such thoughts were inconceivable; and from tree to tree, +with his noiseless step, he passed. + +Once he was sworn at; once the whisper, "If only it could always +be like this!" sent the blood flying again from his heart, and he +waited there, patient and dogged, for the two to move. But it +was only a poor thin slip of a shop-girl in her draggled blouse +who passed him, clinging to her lover's arm. + +A hundred other lovers too whispered that hope in the stillness +of the trees, a hundred other lovers clung to each other. + +But shaking himself with sudden disgust, Soames returned to the +path, and left that seeking for he knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MEETING AT THE BOTANICAL + + +Young Jolyon, whose circumstances were not those of a Forsyte, +found at times a difficulty in sparing the money needful for +those country jaunts and researches into Nature, without having +prosecuted which no watercolour artist ever puts brush to paper. + +He was frequently, in fact, obliged to take his colour-box into +the Botanical Gardens, and there, on his stool, in the shade of a +monkey-puzzler or in the lee of some India-rubber plant, he would +spend long hours sketching. + +An Art critic who had recently been looking at his work had +delivered himself as follows + +"In a way your drawings are very good; tone and colour, in some +of them certainly quite a feeling for Nature. But, you see, +they're so scattered; you'll never get the public to look at +them. Now, if you'd taken a definite subject, such as 'London by +Night,' or 'The Crystal Palace in the Spring,' and made a regular +series, the public would have known at once what they were +looking at. I can't lay too much stress upon that. All the men +who are making great names in Art, like Crum Stone or Bleeder, +are making them by avoiding the unexpected; by specializing and +putting their works all in the same pigeon-hole, so that the +public know pat once where to go. And this stands to reason, for +if a man's a collector he doesn't want people to smell at the +canvas to find out whom his pictures are by; he wants them to be +able to say at once, 'A capital Forsyte!' It is all the more +important for you to be careful to choose a subject that they can +lay hold of on the spot, since there's no very marked originality +in your style." + +Young Jolyon, standing by the little piano, where a bowl of dried +rose leaves, the only produce of the garden, was deposited on a +bit of faded damask, listened with his dim smile. + +Turning to his wife, who was looking at the speaker with an angry +expression on her thin face, he said: + +"You see, dear?" + +"I do not," she answered in her staccato voice, that still had a +little foreign accent; "your style has originality." + +The critic looked at her, smiled' deferentially, and said no +more. Like everyone else, he knew their history. + +The words bore good fruit with young Jolyon; they were contrary +to all that he believed in, to all that he theoretically held +good in his Art, but some strange, deep instinct moved him +against his will to turn them to profit. + +He discovered therefore one morning that an idea had come to him +for making a series of watercolour drawings of London. How the +idea had arisen he could not tell; and it was not till the +following year, when he had completed and sold them at a very +fair price, that in one of his impersonal moods, he found himself +able to recollect the Art critic, and to discover in his own +achievement another proof that he was a Forsyte. + +He decided to commence with the Botanical Gardens, where he had +already made so many studies, and chose the little artificial +pond, sprinkled now with an autumn shower of red and yellow +leaves, for though the gardeners longed to sweep them off, they +could not reach them with their brooms. The rest of the gardens +they swept bare enough, removing every morning Nature's rain of +leaves; piling them in heaps, whence from slow fires rose the +sweet, acrid smoke that, like the cuckoo's note for spring, the +scent of lime trees for the summer, is the true emblem of the +fall. The gardeners' tidy souls could not abide the gold and +green and russet pattern on the grass. The gravel paths must lie +unstained, ordered, methodical, without knowledge of the +realities of life, nor of that slow and beautiful decay which +flings crowns underfoot to star the earth with fallen glories, +whence, as the cycle rolls, will leap again wild spring. + +Thus each leaf that fell was marked from the moment when it +fluttered a good-bye and dropped, slow turning, from its twig. + +But on that little pond the leaves floated in peace, and praised +Heaven with their hues, the sunlight haunting over them. + +And so young Jolyon found them. + +Coming there one morning in the middle of October, he was +disconcerted to find a bench about twenty paces from his stand +occupied, for he had a proper horror of anyone seeing him at +work. + +A lady in a velvet jacket was sitting there, with her eyes fixed +on the ground. A flowering laurel, however, stood between, and, +taking shelter behind this, young Jolyon prepared his easel. + +His preparations were leisurely; he caught, as every true artist +should, at anything that might delay for a moment the effort of +his work, and he found himself looking furtively at this unknown +dame. + +Like his father before him, he had an eye for a face. This face +was charming! + +He saw a rounded chin nestling in a cream ruffle, a delicate face +with large dark eyes and soft lips. A black 'picture' hat +concealed the hair; her figure was lightly poised against the +back of the bench, her knees were crossed; the tip of a +patent-leather shoe emerged beneath her skirt. There was +something, indeed, inexpressibly dainty about the person of this +lady, but young Jolyon's attention was chiefly riveted by the +look on her face, which reminded him of his wife. It was as +though its owner had come into contact with forces too strong for +her. It troubled him, arousing vague feelings of attraction and +chivalry. Who was she? And what doing there, alone? + +Two young gentlemen of that peculiar breed, at once forward and +shy, found in the Regent's Park, came by on their way to lawn +tennis, and he noted with disapproval their furtive stares of +admiration. A loitering gardener halted to do something +unnecessary to a clump of pampas grass; he, too, wanted an excuse +for peeping. A gentleman, old, and, by his hat, a professor of +horticulture, passed three times to scrutinize her long and +stealthily, a queer expression about his lips. + +With all these men young Jolyon felt the same vague irritation. +She looked at none of them, yet was he certain that every man who +passed would look at her like that. + +Her face was not the face of a sorceress, who in every look holds +out to men the offer of pleasure; it had none of the 'devil's +beauty' so highly prized among the first Forsytes of the land; +neither was it of that type, no less adorable, associated with +the box of chocolate; it was not of the spiritually passionate, +or passionately spiritual order, peculiar to house-decoration and +modern poetry; nor did it seem to promise to the playwright +material for the production of the interesting and neurasthenic +figure, who commits suicide in the last act. + +In shape and colouring, in its soft persuasive passivity, its +sensuous purity, this woman's face reminded him of Titian's +'Heavenly Love,' a reproduction of which hung over the sideboard +in his dining-room. And her attraction seemed to be in this soft +passivity, in the feeling she gave that to pressure she must +yield. + +For what or whom was she waiting, in the silence, with the trees +dropping here and there a leaf, and the thrushes strutting close +on grass, touched with the sparkle of the autumn rime? Then her +charming face grew eager, and, glancing round, with almost a +lover's jealousy, young Jolyon saw Bosinney striding across the +grass. + +Curiously he watched the meeting, the look in their eyes, the +long clasp of their hands. They sat down close together, linked +for all their outward discretion. He heard the rapid murmur of +their talk; but what they said he could not catch. + +He had rowed in the galley himself! He knew the long hours of +waiting and the lean minutes of a half-public meeting; the +tortures of suspense that haunt the unhallowed lover. + +It required, however, but a glance at their two faces to see that +this was none of those affairs of a season that distract men and +women about town; none of those sudden appetites that wake up +ravening, and are surfeited and asleep again in six weeks. This +was the real thing! This was what had happened to himself! Out +of this anything might come! + +Bosinney was pleading, and she so quiet, so soft, yet immovable +in her passivity, sat looking over the grass. + +Was he the man to carry her off, that tender, passive being, who +would never stir a step for herself? Who had given him all +herself, and would die for him, but perhaps would never run away +with him! + +It seemed to young Jolyon that he could hear her saying: "But, +darling, it would ruin you!" For he himself had experienced to +the full the gnawing fear at the bottom of each woman's heart +that she is a drag on the man she loves. + +And he peeped at them no more; but their soft, rapid talk came to +his ears, with the stuttering song of some bird who seemed trying +to remember the notes of spring: Joy--tragedy? Which--which? + +And gradually their talk ceased; long silence followed. + +'And where does Soames come in?' young Jolyon thought. 'People +think she is concerned about the sin of deceiving her husband! +Little they know of women! She's eating, after starvation-- +taking her revenge! And Heaven help her--for he'll take his.' + +He heard the swish of silk, and, spying round the laurel, saw +them walking away, their hands stealthily joined.... + +At the end of July old Jolyon had taken his grand-daughter to the +mountains; and on that visit (the last they ever paid) June +recovered to a great extent her health and spirits. In the +hotels, filled with British Forsytes--for old Jolyon could not +bear a 'set of Germans,' as he called all foreigners--she was +looked upon with respect--the only grand-daughter of that fine- +looking, and evidently wealthy, old Mr. Forsyte. She did not mix +freely with people--to mix freely with people was not June's +habit--but she formed some friendships, and notably one in the +Rhone Valley, with a French girl who was dying of consumption. + +Determining at once that her friend should not die, she forgot, +in the institution of a campaign against Death, much of her own +trouble. + +Old Jolyon watched the new intimacy with relief and disapproval; +for this additional proof that her life was to be passed amongst +'lame ducks' worried him. Would she never make a friendship or +take an interest in something that would be of real benefit to +her? + +'Taking up with a parcel of foreigners,' he called it. He often, +however, brought home grapes or roses, and presented them to +'Mam'zelle' with an ingratiating twinkle. + +Towards the end of September, in spite of June's disapproval, +Mademoiselle Vigor breathed her last in the little hotel at St. +Luc, to which they had moved her; and June took her defeat so +deeply to heart that old Jolyon carried her away to Paris. Here, +in contemplation of the 'Venus de Milo' and the 'Madeleine,' she +shook off her depression, and when, towards the middle of +October, they returned to town, her grandfather believed that he +had effected a cure. + +No sooner, however, had they established themselves in Stanhope +Gate than he perceived to his dismay a return of her old absorbed +and brooding manner. She would sit, staring in front of her, her +chin on her hand, like a little Norse spirit, grim and intent, +while all around in the electric light, then just installed, +shone the great, drawing-room brocaded up to the frieze, full of +furniture from Baple and Pullbred's. And in the huge gilt mirror +were reflected those Dresden china groups of young men in tight +knee breeches, at the feet of full-bosomed ladies nursing on +their laps pet lambs, which old Jolyon had bought when he was a +bachelor and thought so highly of in these days of degenerate +taste. He was a man of most open mind, who, more than any +Forsyte of them all, had moved with the times, but he could never +forget that he had bought these groups at Jobson's, and given a +lot of money for them. He often said to June, with a sort of +disillusioned contempt: + +"You don't care about them! They're not the gimcrack things you +and your friends like, but they cost me seventy pounds!" He was +not a man who allowed his taste to be warped when he knew for +solid reasons that it was sound. + +One of the first things that June did on getting home was to go +round to Timothy's. She persuaded herself that it was her duty +to call there, and cheer him with an account of all her travels; +but in reality she went because she knew of no other place where, +by some random speech, or roundabout question, she could glean +news of Bosinney. + +They received her most cordially: And how was her dear grand- +father? He had not been to see them since May. Her Uncle +Timothy was very poorly, he had had a lot of trouble with the +chimney-sweep in his bedroom; the stupid man had let the soot +down the chimney! It had quite upset her uncle. + +June sat there a long time, dreading, yet passionately hoping, +that they would speak of Bosinney. + +But paralyzed by unaccountable discretion, Mrs. Septimus Small +let fall no word, neither did she question June about him. In +desperation the girl asked at last whether Soames and Irene were +in town--she had not yet been to see anyone. + +It was Aunt Hester who replied: Oh, yes, they were in town, they +had not been away at all. There was some little difficulty about +the house, she believed. June had heard, no doubt! She had +better ask her Aunt Juley! + +June turned to Mrs. Small, who sat upright in her chair, her +hands clasped, her face covered with innumerable pouts. In +answer to the girl's look she maintained a strange silence, and +when she spoke it was to ask June whether she had worn night- +socks up in those high hotels where it must be so cold of a +night. + +June answered that she had not, she hated the stuffy things; and +rose to leave. + +Mrs. Small's infallibly chosen silence was far more ominous to +her than anything that could have been said. + +Before half an hour was over she had dragged the truth from Mrs. +Baynes in Lowndes Square, that Soames was bringing an action +against Bosinney over the decoration of the house. + +Instead of disturbing her, the news had a strangely calming +effect; as though she saw in the prospect of this struggle new +hope for herself. She learnt that the case was expected to come +on in about a month, and there seemed little or no prospect of +Bosinney's success. + +"And whatever he'll do I can't think," said Mrs. Baynes; "it's +very dreadful for him, you know--he's got no money--he's very +hard up. And we can't help him, I'm sure. I'm told the +money-lenders won't lend if you have no security, and he has +none--none at all." + +Her embonpoint had increased of late; she was in the full swing +of autumn organization, her writing-table literally strewn with +the menus of charity functions. She looked meaningly at June, +with her round eyes of parrot-grey. + +The sudden flush that rose on the girl's intent young face--she +must have seen spring up before her a great hope--the sudden +sweetness of her smile, often came back to Lady Baynes in after +years (Baynes was knighted when he built that public Museum of +Art which has given so much employment to officials, and so +little pleasure to those working classes for whom it was +designed). + +The memory of that change, vivid and touching, like the breaking +open of a flower, or the first sun after long winter, the memory, +too, of all that came after, often intruded itself, unaccountably, +inopportunely on Lady Baynes, when her mind was set upon the most +important things. + +This was the very afternoon of the day that young Jolyon +witnessed the meeting in the Botanical Gardens, and on this day, +too, old Jolyon paid a visit to his solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard, +and Forsyte, in the Poultry. Soames was not in, he had gone down +to Somerset House; Bustard was buried up to the hilt in papers +and that inaccessible apartment, where he was judiciously placed, +in order that he might do as much work as possible; but James was +in the front office, biting a finger, and lugubriously turning +over the pleadings in Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +This sound lawyer had only a sort of luxurious dread of the 'nice +point,' enough to set up a pleasurable feeling of fuss; for his +good practical sense told him that if he himself were on the +Bench he would not pay much attention to it. But he was afraid +that this Bosinney would go bankrupt and Soames would have to +find the money after all, and costs into the bargain. And behind +this tangible dread there was always that intangible trouble, +lurking in the background, intricate, dim, scandalous, like a bad +dream, and of which this action was but an outward and visible +sign. + +He raised his head as old Jolyon came in, and muttered: "How are +you, Jolyon? Haven't seen you for an age. You've been to +Switzerland, they tell me. This young Bosinney, he's got himself +into a mess. I knew how it would be!" He held out the papers, +regarding his elder brother with nervous gloom. + +Old Jolyon read them in silence, and while he read them James +looked at the floor, biting his fingers the while. + +Old Jolyon pitched them down at last, and they fell with a thump +amongst a mass of affidavits in 're Buncombe, deceased,' one of +the many branches of that parent and profitable tree, 'Fryer v. +Forsyte.' + +"I don't know what Soames is about," he said, "to make a fuss +over a few hundred pounds. I thought he was a man of property." + +James'long upper lip twitched angrily; he could not bear his son +to be attacked in such a spot. + +"It's not the money "he began, but meeting his brother's glance, +direct, shrewd, judicial, he stopped. + +There was a silence. + +"I've come in for my Will," said old Jolyon at last, tugging at +his moustache. + +James' curiosity was roused at once. Perhaps nothing in this +life was more stimulating to him than a Will; it was the supreme +deal with property, the final inventory of a man's belongings, +the last word on what he was worth. He sounded the bell. + +"Bring in Mr. Jolyon's Will," he said to an anxious, dark-haired +clerk. + +"You going to make some alterations?" And through his mind there +flashed the thought: 'Now, am I worth as much as he?' + +Old Jolyon put the Will in his breast pocket, and James twisted +his long legs regretfully. + +"You've made some nice purchases lately, they tell me," he said. + +"I don't know where you get your information from," answered old +Jolyon sharply. "When's this action coming on? Next month? I +can't tell what you've got in your minds. You must manage your +own affairs; but if you take my advice, you'll settle it out of +Court. Good-bye!" With a cold handshake he was gone. + +James, his fixed grey-blue eye corkscrewing round some secret +anxious image, began again to bite his finger. + +Old Jolyon took his Will to the offices of the New Colliery +Company, and sat down in the empty Board Room to read it through. +He answered 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings so tartly when the +latter, seeing his Chairman seated there, entered with the new +Superintendent's first report, that the Secretary withdrew with +regretful dignity; and sending for the transfer clerk, blew him +up till the poor youth knew not where to look. + +It was not--by George--as he (Down-by-the-starn) would have him +know, for a whippersnapper of a young fellow like him, to come +down to that office, and think that he was God Almighty. He +(Down-by-the-starn) had been head of that office for more years +than a boy like him could count, and if he thought that when he +had finished all his work, he could sit there doing nothing, he +did not know him, Hemmings (Down-by-the-starn), and so forth. + +On the other side of the green baize door old Jolyon sat at the +long, mahogany-and-leather board table, his thick, loose-jointed, +tortoiseshell eye-glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his +gold pencil moving down the clauses of his Will. + +It was a simple affair, for there were none of those vexatious +little legacies and donations to charities, which fritter away a +man's possessions, and damage the majestic effect of that little +paragraph in the morning papers accorded to Forsytes who die with +a hundred thousand pounds. + +A simple affair. Just a bequest to his son of twenty thousand, +and 'as to the residue of my property of whatsoever kind whether +realty or personalty, or partaking of the nature of either--upon +trust to pay the proceeds rents annual produce dividends or +interest thereof and thereon to my said grand-daughter June +Forsyte or her assigns during her life to be for her sole use and +benefit and without, etc... and from and after her death or +decease upon trust to convey assign transfer or make over the +said last-mentioned lands hereditaments premises trust moneys +stocks funds investments and securities or such as shall then +stand for and represent the same unto such person or persons +whether one or more for such intents purposes and uses and +generally in such manner way and form in all respects as the said +June Forsyte notwithstanding coverture shall by her last Will and +Testament or any writing or writings in the nature of a Will +testament or testamentary disposition to be by her duly made +signed and published direct appoint or make over give and dispose +of the same And in default etc.... Provided always...' and so on, +in seven folios of brief and simple phraseology. + +The Will had been drawn by James in his palmy days. He had +foreseen almost every contingency. + +Old Jolyon sat a long time reading this Will; at last he took +half a sheet of paper from the rack, and made a prolonged pencil +note; then buttoning up the Will, he caused a cab to be called +and drove to the offices of Paramor and Herring, in Lincoln's Inn +Fields. Jack Herring was dead, but his nephew was still in the +firm, and old Jolyon was closeted with him for half an hour. + +He had kept the hansom, and on coming out, gave the driver the +address--3, Wistaria Avenue. + +He felt a strange, slow satisfaction, as though he had scored a +victory over James and the man of property. They should not poke +their noses into his affairs any more; he had just cancelled +their trusteeships of his Will; he would take the whole of his +business out of their hands, and put it into the hands of young +Herring, and he would move the business of his Companies too. If +that young Soames were such a man of property, he would never +miss a thousand a year or so; and under his great white moustache +old Jolyon grimly smiled. He felt that what he was doing was in +the nature of retributive justice, richly deserved. + +Slowly, surely, with the secret inner process that works the +destruction of an old tree, the poison of the wounds to his +happiness, his will, his pride, had corroded the comely edifice +of his philosophy. Life had worn him down on one side, till, +like that family of which he was the head, he had lost balance. + +To him, borne northwards towards his son's house, the thought of +the new disposition of property, which he had just set in motion, +appeared vaguely in the light of a stroke of punishment, levelled +at that family and that Society, of which James and his son +seemed to him the representatives. He had made a restitution to +young Jolyon, and restitution to young Jolyon satisfied his +secret craving for revenge-revenge against Time, sorrow, and +interference, against all that incalculable sum of disapproval +that had been bestowed by the world for fifteen years on his only +son. It presented itself as the one possible way of asserting +once more the domination of his will; of forcing James, and +Soames, and the family, and all those hidden masses of Forsytes-- +a great stream rolling against the single dam of his obstinacy-- +to recognise once and for all that be would be master. It was +sweet to think that at last he was going to make the boy a richer +man by far than that son of James, that 'man of property.' And it +was sweet to give to Jo, for he loved his son. + +Neither young Jolyon nor his wife were in (young Jolyon indeed +was not back from the Botanical), but the little maid told him +that she expected the master at any moment: + +"He's always at 'ome to tea, sir, to play with the children." + +Old Jolyon said he would wait; and sat down patiently enough in +the faded, shabby drawing room, where, now that the summer +chintzes were removed, the old chairs and sofas revealed all +their threadbare deficiencies. He longed to send for the +children; to have them there beside him, their supple bodies +against his knees; to hear Jolly's: "Hallo, Gran!" and see his +rush; and feel Holly's soft little hand stealing up against his +cheek. But he would not. There was solemnity in what he had +come to do, and until it was over he would not play. He amused +himself by thinking how with two strokes of his pen he was going +to restore the look of caste so conspicuously absent from +everything in that little house; how he could fill these rooms, +or others in some larger mansion, with triumphs of art from Baple +and Pullbred's; how he could send little Jolly to Harrow and +Oxford (he no longer had faith in Eton and Cambridge, for his son +had been there); how he could procure little Holly the best +musical instruction, the child had a remarkable aptitude. + +As these visions crowded before him, causing emotion to swell his +heart, he rose, and stood at the window, looking down into the +little walled strip of garden, where the pear-tree, bare of +leaves before its time, stood with gaunt branches in the +slow-gathering mist of the autumn afternoon. The dog Balthasar, +his tail curled tightly over a piebald, furry back, was walking +at the farther end, sniffing at the plants, and at intervals +placing his leg for support against the wall. + +And old Jolyon mused. + +What pleasure was there left but to give? It was pleasant to +give, when you could find one who would be thankful for what you +gave--one of your own flesh and blood! There was no such +satisfaction to be had out of giving to those who did not belong +to you, to those who had no claim on you! Such giving as that +was a betrayal of the individualistic convictions and actions of +his life, of all his enterprise, his labour, and his moderation, +of the great and proud fact that, like tens of thousands of +Forsytes before him, tens of thousands in the present, tens of +thousands in the future, he had always made his own, and held his +own, in the world. + +And, while he stood there looking down on the smut-covered +foliage of the laurels, the blackstained grass-plot, the progress +of the dog Balthasar, all the suffering of the fifteen years +during which he had been baulked of legitimate enjoyment mingled +its gall with the sweetness of the approaching moment. + +Young Jolyon came at last, pleased with his work, and fresh from +long hours in the open air. On hearing that his father was in +the drawing room, he inquired hurriedly whether Mrs. Forsyte was +at home, and being informed that she was not, heaved a sigh of +relief. Then putting his painting materials carefully in the +little coat-closet out of sight, he went in. + +With characteristic decision old Jolyon came at once to the +point. "I've been altering my arrangements, Jo," he said. "You +can cut your coat a bit longer in the future--I'm settling a +thousand a year on you at once. June will have fifty thousand at +my death; and you the rest. That dog of yours is spoiling the +garden. I shouldn't keep a dog, if I were you!" + +The dog Balthasar, seated in the centre of the lawn, was +examining his tail. + +Young Jolyon looked at the animal, but saw him dimly, for his +eyes were misty. + +"Yours won't come short of a hundred thousand, my boy," said old +Jolyon; "I thought you'd better know. I haven't much longer to +live at my age. I shan't allude to it again. How's your wife? + +And--give her my love." + +Young Jolyon put his hand on his father's shoulder, and, as +neither spoke, the episode closed. + +Having seen his father into a hansom, young Jolyon came back to +the drawing-room and stood, where old Jolyon had stood, looking +down on the little garden. He tried to realize all that this +meant to him, and, Forsyte that he was, vistas of property were +opened out in his brain; the years of half rations through which +he had passed had not sapped his natural instincts. In extremely +practical form, he thought of travel, of his wife's costume, the +children's education, a pony for Jolly, a thousand things; but in +the midst of all he thought, too, of Bosinney and his mistress, +and the broken song of the thrush. Joy--tragedy! Which? Which? + +The old past--the poignant, suffering, passionate, wonderful +past, that no money could buy, that nothing could restore in all +its burning sweetness--had come back before him. + +When his wife came in he went straight up to her and took her in +his arms; and for a long time he stood without speaking, his eyes +closed, pressing her to him, while she looked at him with a +wondering, adoring, doubting look in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +VOYAGE INTO THE INFERNO + + +The morning after a certain night on which Soames at last +asserted his rights and acted like a man, he breakfasted alone. + +He breakfasted by gaslight, the fog of late November wrapping the +town as in some monstrous blanket till the trees of the Square +even were barely visible from the diningroom window. + +He ate steadily, but at times a sensation as though he could not +swallow attacked him. Had he been right to yield to his +overmastering hunger of the night before, and break down the +resistance which he had suffered now too long from this woman who +was his lawful and solemnly constituted helpmate? + +He was strangely haunted by the recollection of her face, from +before which, to soothe her, he had tried to pull her hands--of +her terrible smothered sobbing, the like of which he had never +heard, and still seemed to hear; and he was still haunted by the +odd, intolerable feeling of remorse and shame he had felt, as he +stood looking at her by the flame of the single candle, before +silently slinking away. + +And somehow, now that he had acted like this, he was surprised at +himself. + +Two nights before, at Winifred Dartie's, he had taken Mrs. +MacAnder into dinner. She had said to him, looking in his face +with her sharp, greenish eyes: "And so your wife is a great +friend of that Mr. Bosinney's?" + +Not deigning to ask what she meant, he had brooded over her +words. + +They had roused in him a fierce jealousy, which, with the +peculiar perversion of this instinct, had turned to fiercer +desire. + +Without the incentive of Mrs. MacAnder's words he might never +have done what he had done. Without their incentive and the +accident of finding his wife's door for once unlocked, which had +enabled him to steal upon her asleep. + +Slumber had removed his doubts, but the morning brought them +again. One thought comforted him: No one would know--it was not +the sort of thing that she would speak about. + +And, indeed, when the vehicle of his daily business life, which +needed so imperatively the grease of clear and practical thought, +started rolling once more with the reading of his letters, those +nightmare-like doubts began to assume less extravagant importance +at the back of his mind. The incident was really not of great +moment; women made a fuss about it in books; but in the cool +judgment of right-thinking men, of men of the world, of such as +he recollected often received praise in the Divorce Court, he had +but done his best to sustain the sanctity of marriage, to prevent +her from abandoning her duty, possibly, if she were still seeing +Bosinney, from.... + +No, he did not regret it. + +Now that the first step towards reconciliation had been taken, +the rest would be comparatively--comparatively.... + +He, rose and walked to the window. His nerve had been shaken. +The sound of smothered sobbing was in his ears again. He could +not get rid of it. + +He put on his fur coat, and went out into the fog; having to go +into the City, he took the underground railway from Sloane Square +station. + +In his corner of the first-class compartment filled with City men +the smothered sobbing still haunted him, so he opened the Times +with the rich crackle that drowns all lesser sounds, and, +barricaded behind it, set himself steadily to con the news. + +He read that a Recorder had charged a grand jury on the previous +day with a more than usually long list of offences. He read of +three murders, five manslaughters, seven arsons, and as many as +eleven rapes--a surprisingly high number--in addition to many +less conspicuous crimes, to be tried during a coming Sessions; +and from one piece of news he went on to another, keeping the +paper well before his face. + +And still, inseparable from his reading, was the memory of +Irene's tear-stained face, and the sounds from her broken heart. + +The day was a busy one, including, in addition to the ordinary +affairs of his practice, a visit to his brokers, Messrs. Grin +and Grinning, to give them instructions to sell his shares in the +New Colliery Co., Ltd., whose business he suspected, rather than +knew, was stagnating (this enterprise afterwards slowly declined, +and was ultimately sold for a song to an American syndicate); and +a long conference at Waterbuck, Q.C.'s chambers, attended by +Boulter, by Fiske, the junior counsel, and Waterbuck, Q.C., +himself. + +The case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was expected to be reached on +the morrow, before Mr. Justice Bentham. + +Mr. Justice Bentham, a man of common-sense rather than too great +legal knowledge, was considered to be about the best man they +could have to try the action. He was a 'strong' Judge. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., in pleasing conjunction with an almost rude +neglect of Boulter and Fiske paid to Soames a good deal of +attention, by instinct or the sounder evidence of rumour, feeling +him to be a man of property. + +He held with remarkable consistency to the opinion he had already +expressed in writing, that the issue would depend to a great +extent on the evidence given at the trial, and in a few well +directed remarks he advised Soames not to be too careful in +giving that evidence. "A little bluffness, Mr. Forsyte," he said, +"a little bluffness," and after he had spoken he laughed firmly, +closed his lips tight, and scratched his head just below where he +had pushed his wig back, for all the world like the gentleman- +farmer for whom he loved to be taken. He was considered perhaps +the leading man in breach of promise cases. + +Soames used the underground again in going home. + +The fog was worse than ever at Sloane Square station. Through +the still, thick blur, men groped in and out; women, very few, +grasped their reticules to their bosoms and handkerchiefs to +their mouths; crowned with the weird excrescence of the driver, +haloed by a vague glow of lamp-light that seemed to drown in +vapour before it reached the pavement, cabs loomed dimshaped ever +and again, and discharged citizens, bolting like rabbits to their +burrows. + +And these shadowy figures, wrapped each in his own little shroud +of fog, took no notice of each other. In the great warren, each +rabbit for himself, especially those clothed in the more +expensive fur, who, afraid of carriages on foggy days, are driven +underground. + +One figure, however, not far from Soames, waited at the station +door. + +Some buccaneer or lover, of whom each Forsyte thought: 'Poor +devil! looks as if he were having a bad time!' Their kind hearts +beat a stroke faster for that poor, waiting, anxious lover in the +fog; but they hurried by, well knowing that they had neither time +nor money to spare for any suffering but their own. + +Only a policeman, patrolling slowly and at intervals, took an +interest in that waiting figure, the brim of whose slouch hat +half hid a face reddened by the cold, all thin, and haggard, over +which a hand stole now and again to smooth away anxiety, or renew +the resolution that kept him waiting there. But the waiting +lover (if lover he were) was used to policemen's scrutiny, or too +absorbed in his anxiety, for he never flinched. A hardened case, +accustomed to long trysts, to anxiety, and fog, and cold, if only +his mistress came at last. Foolish lover! Fogs last until the +spring; there is also snow and rain, no comfort anywhere; gnawing +fear if you bring her out, gnawing fear if you bid her stay at +home! + +"Serve him right; he should arrange his affairs better!" + +So any respectable Forsyte. Yet, if that sounder citizen could +have listened at the waiting lover's heart, out there in the fog +and the cold, he would have said again: "Yes, poor devil he's +having a bad time!" + +Soames got into his cab, and, with the glass down, crept along +Sloane Street, and so along the Brompton Road, and home. He +reached his house at five. + +His wife was not in. She had gone out a quarter of an hour +before. Out at such a time of night, into this terrible fog! +What was the meaning of that? + +He sat by the dining-room fire, with the door open, disturbed to +the soul, trying to read the evening paper. A book was no good-- +in daily papers alone was any narcotic to such worry as his. +>From the customary events recorded in the journal he drew some +comfort. 'Suicide of an actress'--'Grave indisposition of a +Statesman' (that chronic sufferer)--'Divorce of an army officer' +--'Fire in a colliery'--he read them all. They helped him a +little--prescribed by the greatest of all doctors, our natural +taste. + +It was nearly seven when he heard her come in. + +The incident of the night before had long lost its importance +under stress of anxiety at her strange sortie into the fog. But +now that Irene was home, the memory of her broken-hearted sobbing +came back to him, and he felt nervous at the thought of facing +her. + +She was already on the stairs; her grey fur coat hung to her +knees, its high collar almost hid her face, she wore a thick +veil. + +She neither turned to look at him nor spoke. No ghost or +stranger could have passed more silently. + +Bilson came to lay dinner, and told him that Mrs. Forsyte was not +coming down; she was having the soup in her room. + +For once Soames did not 'change'; it was, perhaps, the first time +in his life that he had sat down to dinner with soiled cuffs, +and, not even noticing them, he brooded long over his wine. He +sent Bilson to light a fire in his picture-room, and presently +went up there himself. + +Turning on the gas, he heaved a deep sigh, as though amongst +these treasures, the backs of which confronted him in stacks, +around the little room, he had found at length his peace of mind. +He went straight up to the greatest treasure of them all, an +undoubted Turner, and, carrying it to the easel, turned its face +to the light. There had been a movement in Turners, but he had +not been able to make up his mind to part with it. He stood for +a long time, his pale, clean-shaven face poked forward above his +stand-up collar, looking at the picture as though he were adding +it up; a wistful expression came into his eyes; he found, +perhaps, that it came to too little. He took it down from the +easel to put it back against the wall; but, in crossing the room, +stopped, for he seemed to hear sobbing. + +It was nothing--only the sort of thing that had been bothering +him in the morning. And soon after, putting the high guard +before the blazing fire, he stole downstairs. + +Fresh for the morrow! was his thought. It was long before he +went to sleep.... + +It is now to George Forsyte that the mind must turn for light on +the events of that fog-engulfed afternoon. + +The wittiest and most sportsmanlike of the Forsytes had passed +the day reading a novel in the paternal mansion at Princes' +Gardens. Since a recent crisis in his financial affairs he had +been kept on parole by Roger, and compelled to reside 'at home.' + +Towards five o'clock he went out, and took train at South +Kensington Station (for everyone to-day went Underground). His +intention was to dine, and pass the evening playing billiards at +the Red Pottle--that unique hostel, neither club, hotel, nor good +gilt restaurant. + +He got out at Charing Cross, choosing it in preference to his +more usual St. James's Park, that he might reach Jermyn Street +by better lighted ways. + +On the platform his eyes--for in combination with a composed and +fashionable appearance, George had sharp eyes, and was always on +the look-out for fillips to his sardonic humour--his eyes were +attracted by a man, who, leaping from a first-class compartment, +staggered rather than walked towards the exit. + +'So ho, my bird!' said George to himself; 'why, it's "the +Buccaneer!"' and he put his big figure on the trail. Nothing +afforded him greater amusement than a drunken man. + +Bosinney, who wore a slouch hat, stopped in front of him, spun +around, and rushed back towards the carriage he had just left. +He was too late. A porter caught him by the coat; the train was +already moving on. + +George's practised glance caught sight of the face of a lady clad +in a grey fur coat at the carriage window. It was Mrs. Soames-- +and George felt that this was interesting! + +And now he followed Bosinney more closely than ever--up the +stairs, past the ticket collector into the street. In that +progress, however, his feelings underwent a change; no longer +merely curious and amused, he felt sorry for the poor fellow he +was shadowing. 'The Buccaneer' was not drunk, but seemed to be +acting under the stress of violent emotion; he was talking to +himself, and all that George could catch were the words "Oh, +God!" Nor did he appear to know what he was doing, or where +going; but stared, hesitated, moved like a man out of his mind; +and from being merely a joker in search of amusement, George felt +that he must see the poor chap through. + +He had 'taken the knock'--'taken the knock!' And he wondered what +on earth Mrs. Soames had been saying, what on earth she had been +telling him in the railway carriage. She had looked bad enough +herself! It made George sorry to think of her travelling on with +her trouble all alone. + +He followed close behind Bosinney's elbow--tall, burly figure, +saying nothing, dodging warily--and shadowed him out into the +fog. + +There was something here beyond a jest! He kept his head +admirably, in spite of some excitement, for in addition to +compassion, the instincts of the chase were roused within him. + +Bosinney walked right out into the thoroughfare--a vast muffled +blackness, where a man could not see six paces before him; where, +all around, voices or whistles mocked the sense of direction; and +sudden shapes came rolling slow upon them; and now and then a +light showed like a dim island in an infinite dark sea. + +And fast into this perilous gulf of night walked Bosinney, and +fast after him walked George. If the fellow meant to put his +'twopenny' under a 'bus, he would stop it if he could! Across +the street and back the hunted creature strode, not groping as +other men were groping in that gloom, but driven forward as +though the faithful George behind wielded a knout; and this chase +after a haunted man began to have for George the strangest +fascination. + +But it was now that the affair developed in a way which ever +afterwards caused it to remain green in his mind. Brought to a +stand-still in the fog, he heard words which threw a sudden light +on these proceedings. What Mrs. Soames had said to Bosinney in +the train was now no longer dark. George understood from those +mutterings that Soames had exercised his rights over an estranged +and unwilling wife in the greatest--the supreme act of property. + +His fancy wandered in the fields of this situation; it impressed +him; he guessed something of the anguish, the sexual confusion +and horror in Bosinney's heart. And he thought: 'Yes, it's a bit +thick! I don't wonder the poor fellow is halfcracked!' + +He had run his quarry to earth on a bench under one of the lions +in Trafalgar Square, a monster sphynx astray like themselves in +that gulf of darkness. Here, rigid and silent, sat Bosinney, and +George, in whose patience was a touch of strange brotherliness, +took his stand behind. He was not lacking in a certain delicacy- +-a sense of form--that did not permit him to intrude upon this +tragedy, and he waited, quiet as the lion above, his fur collar +hitched above his ears concealing the fleshy redness of his +cheeks, concealing all but his eyes with their sardonic, +compassionate stare. And men kept passing back from business on +the way to their clubs--men whose figures shrouded in cocoons of +fog came into view like spectres, and like spectres vanished. +Then even in his compassion George's Quilpish humour broke forth +in a sudden longing to pluck these spectres by the sleeve, and +say: + +"Hi, you Johnnies! You don't often see a show like this! Here's +a poor devil whose mistress has just been telling him a pretty +little story of her husband; walk up, walk up! He's taken the +knock, you see." + +In fancy he saw them gaping round the tortured lover; and grinned +as he thought of some respectable, newly-married spectre enabled +by the state of his own affections to catch an inkling of what +was going on within Bosinney; he fancied he could see his mouth +getting wider and wider, and the fog going down and down. For in +George was all that contempt of the of the married middle-class-- +peculiar to the wild and sportsmanlike spirits in its ranks. + +But he began to be bored. Waiting was not what he had bargained +for. + +'After all,' he thought, 'the poor chap will get over it; not the +first time such a thing has happened in this little city!' But +now his quarry again began muttering words of violent hate and +anger. And following a sudden impulse George touched him on the +shoulder. + +Bosinney spun round. + +"Who are you? What do you want?" + +George could have stood it well enough in the light of the gas +lamps, in the light of that everyday world of which he was so +hardy a connoisseur; but in this fog, where all was gloomy and + +unreal, where nothing had that matter-of-fact value associated by +Forsytes with earth, he was a victim to strange qualms, and as he +tried to stare back into the eyes of this maniac, he thought: + +'If I see a bobby, I'll hand him over; he's not fit to be at +large.' + +But waiting for no answer, Bosinney strode off into the fog, and +George followed, keeping perhaps a little further off, yet more +than ever set on tracking him down. + +'He can't go on long like this,' he thought. 'It's God's own +miracle he's not been run over already.' He brooded no more on +policemen, a sportsman's sacred fire alive again within him. + +Into a denser gloom than ever Bosinney held on at a furious pace; +but his pursuer perceived more method in his madness--he was +clearly making his way westwards. + +'He's really going for Soames!' thought George. The idea was +attractive. It would be a sporting end to such a chase. He had +always disliked his cousin. + +The shaft of a passing cab brushed against his shoulder and made +him leap aside. He did not intend to be killed for the Buccaneer, +or anyone. Yet, with hereditary tenacity, he stuck to the trail +through vapour that blotted out everything but the shadow of the +hunted man and the dim moon of the nearest lamp. + +Then suddenly, with the instinct of a town-stroller, George knew +himself to be in Piccadilly. Here he could find his way blindfold; +and freed from the strain of geographical uncertainty, his mind +returned to Bosinney's trouble. + +Down the long avenue of his man-about-town experience, bursting, +as it were, through a smirch of doubtful amours, there stalked to +him a memory of his youth. A memory, poignant still, that brought +the scent of hay, the gleam of moonlight, a summer magic, into +the reek and blackness of this London fog--the memory of a night +when in the darkest shadow of a lawn he had overheard from a +woman's lips that he was not her sole possessor. And for a moment +George walked no longer in black Piccadilly, but lay again, with +hell in his heart, and his face to the sweet-smelling, dewy grass, +in the long shadow of poplars that hid the moon. + +A longing seized him to throw his arm round the Buccaneer, and +say, "Come, old boy. Time cures all. Let's go and drink it off!" + +But a voice yelled at him, and he started back. A cab rolled out +of blackness, and into blackness disappeared. And suddenly +George perceived that he had lost Bosinney. He ran forward and +back, felt his heart clutched by a sickening fear, the dark fear +which lives in the wings of the fog. Perspiration started out on +his brow. He stood quite still, listening with all his might. + +"And then," as he confided to Dartie the same evening in the +course of a game of billiards at the Red Pottle, "I lost him." + +Dartie twirled complacently at his dark moustache. He had just +put together a neat break of twenty-three,--failing at a 'Jenny.' +"And who was she?" he asked. + +George looked slowly at the 'man of the world's' fattish, sallow +face, and a little grim smile lurked about the curves of his +cheeks and his heavy-lidded eyes. + +'No, no, my fine fellow,' he thought, 'I'm not going to tell +you.' For though he mixed with Dartie a good deal, he thought him +a bit of a cad. + +"Oh, some little love-lady or other," he said, and chalked his +cue. + +"A love-lady!" exclaimed Dartie--he used a more figurative +expression. "I made sure it was our friend Soa...." + +"Did you?" said George curtly. "Then damme you've made an +error." + +He missed his shot. He was careful not to allude to the subject +again till, towards eleven o'clock, having, in his poetic +phraseology, 'looked upon the drink when it was yellow,' he drew +aside the blind, and gazed out into the street. The murky +blackness of the fog was but faintly broken by the lamps of the +'Red Pottle,' and no shape of mortal man or thing was in sight. + +"I can't help thinking of that poor Buccaneer," he said. "He may +be wandering out there now in that fog. If he's not a corpse," +he added with strange dejection. + +"Corpse!" said Dartie, in whom the recollection of his defeat at +Richmond flared up. "He's all right. Ten to one if he wasn't +tight!" + +George turned on him, looking really formidable, with a sort of +savage gloom on his big face. + +"Dry up!" he said. "Don't I tell you he's 'taken the knock!"' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TRIAL + + +In the morning of his case, which was second in the list, Soames +was again obliged to start without seeing Irene, and it was just +as well, for he had not as yet made up his mind what attitude to +adopt towards her. + +He had been requested to be in court by half-past ten, to provide +against the event of the first action (a breach of promise) +collapsing, which however it did not, both sides showing a +courage that afforded Waterbuck, Q.C., an opportunity for +improving his already great reputation in this class of case. He +was opposed by Ram, the other celebrated breach of promise man. +It was a battle of giants. + +The court delivered judgment just before the luncheon interval. +The jury left the box for good, and Soames went out to get +something to eat. He met James standing at the little luncheon- +bar, like a pelican in the wilderness of the galleries, bent over +a sandwich with a glass of sherry before him. The spacious +emptiness of the great central hall, over which father and son +brooded as they stood together, was marred now and then for a +fleeting moment by barristers in wig and gown hurriedly bolting +across, by an occasional old lady or rusty-coated man, looking up +in a frightened way, and by two persons, bolder than their +generation, seated in an embrasure arguing. The sound of their +voices arose, together with a scent as of neglected wells, which, +mingling with the odour of the galleries, combined to form the +savour, like nothing but the emanation of a refined cheese, so +indissolubly connected with the administration of British +Justice. + +It was not long before James addressed his son. + +"When's your case coming on? I suppose it'll be on directly. I +shouldn't wonder if this Bosinney'd say anything; I should think +he'd have to. He'll go bankrupt if it goes against him." He took +a large bite at his sandwich and a mouthful of sherry. "Your +mother," he said, "wants you and Irene to come and dine +to-night." + +A chill smile played round Soames' lips; he looked back at his +father. Anyone who had seen the look, cold and furtive, thus +interchanged, might have been pardoned for not appreciating the +real understanding between them. James finished his sherry at a +draught. + +"How much?" he asked. + +On returning to the court Soames took at once his rightful seat +on the front bench beside his solicitor. He ascertained where +his father was seated with a glance so sidelong as to commit +nobody. + +James, sitting back with his hands clasped over the handle of his +umbrella, was brooding on the end of the bench immediately behind +counsel, whence he could get away at once when the case was over. +He considered Bosinney's conduct in every way outrageous, but he +did not wish to run up against him, feeling that the meeting +would be awkward. + +Next to the Divorce Court, this court was, perhaps, the favourite +emporium of justice, libel, breach of promise, and other +commercial actions being frequently decided there. Quite a +sprinkling of persons unconnected with the law occupied the back +benches, and the hat of a woman or two could be seen in the +gallery. + +The two rows of seats immediately in front of James were +gradually filled by barristers in wigs, who sat down to make +pencil notes, chat, and attend to their teeth; but his interest +was soon diverted from these lesser lights of justice by the +entrance of Waterbuck, Q.C., with the wings of his silk gown +rustling, and his red, capable face supported by two short, brown +whiskers. The famous Q.C. looked, as James freely admitted, the +very picture of a man who could heckle a witness. + +For all his experience, it so happened that he had never seen +Waterbuck, Q.C., before, and, like many Forsytes in the lower +branch of the profession, he had an extreme admiration for a good +cross-examiner. The long, lugubrious folds in his cheeks relaxed +somewhat after seeing him, especially as he now perceived that +Soames alone was represented by silk. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., had barely screwed round on his elbow to chat +with his Junior before Mr. Justice Bentham himself appeared--a +thin, rather hen-like man, with a little stoop, clean-shaven +under his snowy wig. Like all the rest of the court, Waterbuck +rose, and remained on his feet until the judge was seated. James +rose but slightly; he was already comfortable, and had no opinion +of Bentham, having sat next but one to him at dinner twice at the +Bumley Tomms'. Bumley Tomm was rather a poor thing, though he +had been so successful. James himself had given him his first +brief. He was excited, too, for he had just found out that +Bosinney was not in court. + +'Now, what's he mean by that?' he kept on thinking. + +The case having been called on, Waterbuck, Q.C., pushing back his +papers, hitched his gown on his shoulder, and, with a +semi-circular look around him, like a man who is going to bat, +arose and addressed the Court. + +The facts, he said, were not in dispute, and all that his +Lordship would be asked was to interpret the correspondence which +had taken place between his client and the defendant, an +architect, with reference to the decoration of a house. He +would, however, submit that this correspondence could only mean +one very plain thing. After briefly reciting the history of the +house at Robin Hill, which he described as a mansion, and the +actual facts of expenditure, he went on as follows: + +"My client, Mr. Soames Forsyte, is a gentleman, a man of +property, who would be the last to dispute any legitimate claim +that might be made against him, but he has met with such +treatment from his architect in the matter of this house, over +which he has, as your lordship has heard, already spent some +twelve--some twelve thousand pounds, a sum considerably in +advance of the amount he had originally contemplated, that as a +matter of principle--and this I cannot too strongly emphasize--as +a matter of principle, and in the interests of others, he has +felt himself compelled to bring this action. The point put +forward in defence by the architect I will suggest to your +lordship is not worthy of a moment's serious consideration." He +then read the correspondence. + +His client, "a man of recognised position," was prepared to go +into the box, and to swear that he never did authorize, that it +was never in his mind to authorize, the expenditure of any money +beyond the extreme limit of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +which he had clearly fixed; and not further to waste the time of +the court, he would at once call Mr. Forsyte. + +Soames then went into the box. His whole appearance was striking +in its composure. His face, just supercilious enough, pale and +clean-shaven, with a little line between the eyes, and compressed +lips; his dress in unostentatious order, one hand neatly gloved, +the other bare. He answered the questions put to him in a +somewhat low, but distinct voice. His evidence under cross- +examination savoured of taciturnity. + +Had he not used the expression, "a free hand"? No. + +"Come, come!" + +The expression he had used was 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence.' + +"Would you tell the Court that that was English?" + +"Yes!" + +"What do you say it means?" + +"What it says!" + +"Are you prepared to deny that it is a contradiction in terms?" + +"Yes." + +"You are not an Irishman?" + +"No." + +"Are you a well-educated man?" + +"Yes." + +"And yet you persist in that statement?" + +"Yes." + +Throughout this and much more cross-examination, which turned +again and again around the 'nice point,' James sat with his hand +behind his ear, his eyes fixed upon his son. + +He was proud of him! He could not but feel that in similar +circumstances he himself would have been tempted to enlarge his +replies, but his instinct told him that this taciturnity was the +very thing. He sighed with relief, however, when Soames, slowly +turning, and without any change of expression, descended from the +box. + +When it came to the turn of Bosinney's Counsel to address the +Judge, James redoubled his attention, and he searched the Court +again and again to see if Bosinney were not somewhere concealed. + +Young Chankery began nervously; he was placed by Bosinney's +absence in an awkward position. He therefore did his best to +turn that absence to account. + +He could not but fear--he said--that his client had met with an +accident. He had fully expected him there to give evidence; they +had sent round that morning both to Mr. Bosinney's office and to +his rooms (though he knew they were one and the same, he thought +it was as well not to say so), but it was not known where he was, +and this he considered to be ominous, knowing how anxious Mr. +Bosinney had been to give his evidence. He had not, however, +been instructed to apply for an adjournment, and in default of +such instruction he conceived it his duty to go on. The plea on +which he somewhat confidently relied, and which his client, had +he not unfortunately been prevented in some way from attending, +would have supported by his evidence, was that such an expression +as a 'free hand' could not be limited, fettered, and rendered +unmeaning, by any verbiage which might follow it. He would go +further and say that the correspondence showed that whatever he +might have said in his evidence, Mr. Forsyte had in fact never +contemplated repudiating liability on any of the work ordered or +executed by his architect. The defendant had certainly never +contemplated such a contingency, or, as was demonstrated by his +letters, he would never have proceeded with the work--a work of +extreme delicacy, carried out with great care and efficiency, to +meet and satisfy the fastidious taste of a connoisseur, a rich +man, a man of property. He felt strongly on this point, and +feeling strongly he used, perhaps, rather strong words when he +said that this action was of a most unjustifiable, unexpected, +indeed--unprecedented character. If his Lordship had had the +opportunity that he himself had made it his duty to take, to go +over this very fine house and see the great delicacy and beauty +of the decorations executed by his client--an artist in his most +honourable profession--he felt convinced that not for one moment +would his Lordship tolerate this, he would use no stronger word +than, daring attempt to evade legitimate responsibility. + +Taking the text of Soames' letters, he lightly touched on +'Boileau v. The Blasted Cement Company, Limited.' "It is +doubtful," he said, "what that authority has decided; in any case +I would submit that it is just as much in my favour as in my +friend's." He then argued the 'nice point' closely. With all +due deference he submitted that Mr. Forsyte's expression +nullified itself. His client not being a rich man, the matter +was a serious one for him; he was a very talented architect, +whose professional reputation was undoubtedly somewhat at stake. +He concluded with a perhaps too personal appeal to the Judge, as +a lover of the arts, to show himself the protector of artists, +from what was occasionally--he said occasionally--the too iron +hand of capital. "What," he said, "will be the position of the +artistic professions, if men of property like this Mr. Forsyte +refuse, and are allowed to refuse, to carry out the obligations +of the commissions which they have given." He would now call +his client, in case he should at the last moment have found +himself able to be present. + +The name Philip Baynes Bosinney was called three times by the +Ushers, and the sound of the calling echoed with strange +melancholy throughout the Court and Galleries. + +The crying of this name, to which no answer was returned, had +upon James a curious effect: it was like calling for your lost +dog about the streets. And the creepy feeling that it gave him, +of a man missing, grated on his sense of comfort and security-on +his cosiness. Though he could not have said why, it made him +feel uneasy. + +He looked now at the clock--a quarter to three! It would be all +over in a quarter of an hour. Where could the young fellow be? + +It was only when Mr. Justice Bentham delivered judgment that he +got over the turn he had received. + +Behind the wooden erection, by which he was fenced from more +ordinary mortals, the learned Judge leaned forward. The electric +light, just turned on above his head, fell on his face, and +mellowed it to an orange hue beneath the snowy crown of his wig; +the amplitude of his robes grew before the eye; his whole figure, +facing the comparative dusk of the Court, radiated like some +majestic and sacred body. He cleared his throat, took a sip of +water, broke the nib of a quill against the desk, and, folding +his bony hands before him, began. + +To James he suddenly loomed much larger than he had ever thought +Bentham would loom. It was the majesty of the law; and a person +endowed with a nature far less matter-of-fact than that of James +might have been excused for failing to pierce this halo, and +disinter therefrom the somewhat ordinary Forsyte, who walked and +talked in every-day life under the name of Sir Walter Bentham. + +He delivered judgment in the following words: + +"The facts in this case are not in dispute. On May 15 last the +defendant wrote to the plaintiff, requesting to be allowed to +withdraw from his professional position in regard to the +decoration of the plaintiff's house, unless he were given 'a free +hand.' The plaintiff, on May 17, wrote back as follows: 'In +giving you, in accordance with your request, this free hand, I +wish you to clearly understand that the total cost of the house +as handed over to me completely decorated, inclusive of your fee +(as arranged between us) must not exceed twelve thousand pounds.' +To this letter the defendant replied on May 18: 'If you think + +that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can bind myself to +the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken.' On May 19 the +plaintiff wrote as follows: 'I did not mean to say that if you +should exceed the sum named in my letter to you by ten or twenty +or even fifty pounds there would be any difficulty between us. +You have a free hand in the terms of this correspondence, and I +hope you will see your way to completing the decorations.' On +May 20 the defendant replied thus shortly: 'Very well.' + +"In completing these decorations, the defendant incurred +liabilities and expenses which brought the total cost of this +house up to the sum of twelve thousand four hundred pounds, all +of which expenditure has been defrayed by the plaintiff. This +action has been brought by the plaintiff to recover from the +defendant the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds expended by +him in excess of a sum of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +alleged by the plaintiff to have been fixed by this +correspondence as the maximum sum that the defendant had +authority to expend. + +"The question for me to decide is whether or no the defendant is +liable to refund to the plaintiff this sum. In my judgment he is +so liable. + +"What in effect the plaintiff has said is this 'I give you a free +hand to complete these decorations, provided that you keep within +a total cost to me of twelve thousand pounds. If you exceed that +sum by as much as fifty pounds, I will not hold you responsible; +beyond that point you are no agent of mine, and I shall repudiate +liability.' It is not quite clear to me whether, had the +plaintiff in fact repudiated liability under his agent's +contracts, he would, under all the circumstances, have been +successful in so doing; but he has not adopted this course. He +has accepted liability, and fallen back upon his rights against +the defendant under the terms of the latter's engagement. + +"In my judgment the plaintiff is entitled to recover this sum +from the defendant. + +"It has been sought, on behalf of the defendant, to show that no +limit of expenditure was fixed or intended to be fixed by this +correspondence. If this were so, I can find no reason for the +plaintiff's importation into the correspondence of the figures of +twelve thousand pounds and subsequently of fifty pounds. The +defendant's contention would render these figures meaningless. +It is manifest to me that by his letter of May 20 he assented to +a very clear proposition, by the terms of which he must be held +to be bound. + +"For these reasons there will be judgment for the plaintiff for +the amount claimed with costs." + +James sighed, and stooping, picked up his umbrella which had +fallen with a rattle at the words 'importation into this +correspondence.' + +Untangling his legs, he rapidly left the Court; without waiting +for his son, he snapped up a hansom cab (it was a clear, grey +afternoon) and drove straight to Timothy's where he found +Swithin; and to him, Mrs. Septimus Small, and Aunt Hester, he +recounted the whole proceedings, eating two muffins not +altogether in the intervals of speech. + +"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on +the right way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business +for that young Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," +and then after a long pause, during which he had stared +disquietly into the fire, he added + +"He wasn't there--now why?" + +There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, +with the ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back +drawing-room. The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined +against the black of his frock coat. He spoke in a grudging +voice. + +"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning +round, he walked out. + +It was Timothy. + +James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew +there was something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, +staring before him, as though he had seen a portent. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SOAMES BREAKS THE NEWS + + +In leaving the Court Soames did not go straight home. He felt +disinclined for the City, and drawn by need for sympathy in his +triumph, he, too, made his way, but slowly and on foot, to +Timothy's in the Bayswater Road. + +His father had just left; Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester, in +possession of the whole story, greeted him warmly. They were +sure he was hungry after all that evidence. Smither should toast +him some more muffins, his dear father had eaten them all. He +must put his legs up on the sofa; and he must have a glass of +prune brandy too. It was so strengthening. + +Swithin was still present, having lingered later than his wont, +for he felt in want of exercise. On hearing this suggestion, he +'pished.' A pretty pass young men were coming to! His own liver +was out of order, and he could not bear the thought of anyone +else drinking prune brandy. + +He went away almost immediately, saying to Soames: "And how's +your wife? You tell her from me that if she's dull, and likes to +come and dine with me quietly, I'll give her such a bottle of +champagne as she doesn't get every day." Staring down from his +height on Soames he contracted his thick, puffy, yellow hand as +though squeezing within it all this small fry, and throwing out +his chest he waddled slowly away. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester were left horrified. Swithin was so +droll! + +They themselves were longing to ask Soames how Irene would take +the result, yet knew that they must not; he would perhaps say +something of his own accord, to throw some light on this, the +present burning question in their lives, the question that from +necessity of silence tortured them almost beyond bearing; for +even Timothy had now been told, and the effect on his health was +little short of alarming. And what, too, would June do? This, +also, was a most exciting, if dangerous speculation! + +They had never forgotten old Jolyon's visit, since when he had +not once been to see them; they had never forgotten the feeling +it gave all who were present, that the family was no longer what +it had been--that the family was breaking up. + +But Soames gave them no help, sitting with his knees crossed, +talking of the Barbizon school of painters, whom he had just +discovered. These were the coming men, he said; he should not +wonder if a lot of money were made over them; he had his eye on +two pictures by a man called Corot, charming things; if he could +get them at a reasonable price he was going to buy them--they +would, he thought, fetch a big price some day. + +Interested as they could not but be, neither Mrs. Septimus Small +nor Aunt Hester could entirely acquiesce in being thus put off. + +It was interesting--most interesting--and then Soames was so +clever that they were sure he would do something with those +pictures if anybody could; but what was his plan now that he had +won his case; was he going to leave London at once, and live in +the country, or what was he going to do? + +Soames answered that he did not know, he thought they should be +moving soon. He rose and kissed his aunts. + +No sooner had Aunt Juley received this emblem of departure than a +change came over her, as though she were being visited by +dreadful courage; every little roll of flesh on her face seemed +trying to escape from an invisible, confining mask. + +She rose to the full extent of her more than medium height, and +said: "It has been on my mind a long time, dear, and if nobody +else will tell you, I have made up my mind that...." + +Aunt Hester interrupted her: "Mind, Julia, you do it...." she +gasped--"on your own responsibility!" + +Mrs. Small went on as though she had not heard: "I think you +ought to know, dear, that Mrs. MacAnder saw Irene walking in +Richmond Park with Mr. Bosinney." + +Aunt Hester, who had also risen, sank back in her chair, and +turned her face away. Really Juley was too--she should not do +such things when she--Aunt Hester, was in the room; and, +breathless with anticipation, she waited for what Soames would +answer. + +He had flushed the peculiar flush which always centred between +his eyes; lifting his hand, and, as it were, selecting a finger, +he bit a nail delicately; then, drawling it out between set lips, +he said: "Mrs. MacAnder is a cat!" + +Without waiting for any reply, he left the room. + +When he went into Timothy's he had made up his mind what course +to pursue on getting home. He would go up to Irene and say: + +"Well, I've won my case, and there's an end of it! I don't want +to be hard on Bosinney; I'll see if we can't come to some +arrangement; he shan't be pressed. And now let's turn over a +new leaf! We'll let the house, and get out of these fogs. We'll +go down to Robin Hill at once. I--I never meant to be rough with +you! Let's shake hands--and--" Perhaps she would let him kiss +her, and forget! + +When he came out of Timothy's his intentions were no longer so +simple. The smouldering jealousy and suspicion of months blazed +up within him. He would put an end to that sort of thing once +and for all; he would not have her drag his name in the dirt! If +she could not or would not love him, as was her duty and his +right--she should not play him tricks with anyone else! He would +tax her with it; threaten to divorce her! That would make her +behave; she would never face that. But--but--what if she did? +He was staggered; this had not occurred to him. + +What if she did? What if she made him a confession? How would +he stand then? He would have to bring a divorce! + +A divorce! Thus close, the word was paralyzing, so utterly at +variance with all the principles that had hitherto guided his +life. Its lack of compromise appalled him; he felt--like the +captain of a ship, going to the side of his vessel, and, with his +own hands throwing over the most precious of his bales. This +jettisoning of his property with his own hand seemed uncanny to +Soames. It would injure him in his profession: He would have to +get rid of the house at Robin Hill, on which he had spent so much +money, so much anticipation--and at a sacrifice. And she! She +would no longer belong to him, not even in name! She would pass +out of his life, and he--he should never see her again! + +He traversed in the cab the length of a street without getting +beyond the thought that he should never see her again! + +But perhaps there was nothing to confess, even now very likely +there was nothing to confess. Was it wise to push things so far? +Was it wise to put himself into a position where he might have to +eat his words? The result of this case would ruin Bosinney; a +ruined man was desperate, but--what could he do? He might go +abroad, ruined men always went abroad. What could they do--if +indeed it was 'they'--without money? It would be better to wait +and see how things turned out. If necessary, he could have her +watched. The agony of his jealousy (for all the world like the +crisis of an aching tooth) came on again; and he almost cried +out. But he must decide, fix on some course of action before he +got home. When the cab drew up at the door, he had decided +nothing. + +He entered, pale, his hands moist with perspiration, dreading to +meet her, burning to meet her, ignorant of what he was to say or +do. + +The maid Bilson was in the hall, and in answer to his question: +"Where is your mistress?" told him that Mrs. Forsyte had left the +house about noon, taking with her a trunk and bag. + +Snatching the sleeve of his fur coat away from her grasp, he +confronted her: + +"What?" he exclaimed; "what's that you said?" Suddenly +recollecting that he must not betray emotion, he added: "What +message did she leave?" and noticed with secret terror the +startled look of the maid's eyes. + +"Mrs. Forsyte left no message, sir." + +"No message; very well, thank you, that will do. I shall be +dining out." + +The maid went downstairs, leaving him still in his fur coat, idly +turning over the visiting cards in the porcelain bowl that stood +on the carved oak rug chest in the hall. + +Mr. and Mrs. Bareham Culcher. +Mrs. Septimus Small. +Mrs. Baynes. +Mr. Solomon Thornworthy. +Lady Bellis. +Miss Hermione Bellis. +Miss Winifred Bellis. +Miss Ella Bellis. + +Who the devil were all these people? He seemed to have forgotten +all familiar things. The words 'no message--a trunk, and a bag,' +played a hide-and-seek in his brain. It was incredible that she +had left no message, and, still in his fur coat, he ran upstairs +two steps at a time, as a young married man when he comes home +will run up to his wife's room. + +Everything was dainty, fresh, sweet-smelling; everything in +perfect order. On the great bed with its lilac silk quilt, was +the bag she had made and embroidered with her own hands to hold +her sleeping things; her slippers ready at the foot; the sheets +even turned over at the head as though expecting her. + +On the table stood the silver-mounted brushes and bottles from +her dressing bag, his own present. There must, then, be some +mistake. What bag had she taken? He went to the bell to summon +Bilson, but remembered in time that he must assume knowledge of +where Irene had gone, take it all as a matter of course, and +grope out the meaning for himself. + +He locked the doors, and tried to think, but felt his brain going +round; and suddenly tears forced themselves into his eyes. + +Hurriedly pulling off his coat, he looked at himself in the +mirror. + +He was too pale, a greyish tinge all over his face; he poured out +water, and began feverishly washing. + +Her silver-mounted brushes smelt faintly of the perfumed lotion +she used for her hair; and at this scent the burning sickness of +his jealousy seized him again. + +Struggling into his fur, he ran downstairs and out into the +street. + +He had not lost all command of himself, however, and as he went +down Sloane Street he framed a story for use, in case he should +not find her at Bosinney's. But if he should? His power of +decision again failed; he reached the house without knowing what +he should do if he did find her there. + +It was after office hours, and the street door was closed; the +woman who opened it could not say whether Mr. Bosinney were in or +no; she had not seen him that day, not for two or three days; she +did not attend to him now, nobody attended to him, he.... + +Soames interrupted her, he would go up and see for himself. He +went up with a dogged, white face. + +The top floor was unlighted, the door closed, no one answered his +ringing, he could hear no sound. He was obliged to descend, +shivering under his fur, a chill at his heart. Hailing a cab, he +told the man to drive to Park Lane. + +On the way he tried to recollect when he had last given her a +cheque; she could not have more than three or four pounds, but +there were her jewels; and with exquisite torture he remembered +how much money she could raise on these; enough to take them +abroad; enough for them to live on for months! He tried to +calculate; the cab stopped, and he got out with the calculation +unmade. + +The butler asked whether Mrs. Soames was in the cab, the master +had told him they were both expected to dinner. + +Soames answered: "No. Mrs. Forsyte has a cold." + +The butler was sorry. + +Soames thought he was looking at him inquisitively, and +remembering that he was not in dress clothes, asked: "Anybody +here to dinner, Warmson?" + +"Nobody but Mr. and Mrs. Dartie, sir." + +Again it seemed to Soames that the butler was looking curiously +at him. His composure gave way. + +"What are you looking at?" he said. "What's the matter with me, +eh?" + +The butler blushed, hung up the fur coat, murmured something that +sounded like: "Nothing, sir, I'm sure, sir," and stealthily +withdrew. + +Soames walked upstairs. Passing the drawing-room without a look, +he went straight up to his mother's and father's bedroom. + +James, standing sideways, the concave lines of his tall, lean +figure displayed to advantage in shirt-sleeves and evening +waistcoat, his head bent, the end of his white tie peeping askew +from underneath one white Dundreary whisker, his eyes peering +with intense concentration, his lips pouting, was hooking the top +hooks of his wife's bodice. Soames stopped; he felt half-choked, +whether because he had come upstairs too fast, or for some other +reason. He--he himself had never--never been asked to.... + +He heard his father's voice, as though there were a pin in his +mouth, saying: "Who's that? Who's there? What d'you want?" His +mother's: "Here, Felice, come and hook this; your master'll never +get done." + +He put his hand up to his throat, and said hoarsely: + +"It's I--Soames!" + +He noticed gratefully the affectionate surprise in Emily's: +"Well, my dear boy?" and James', as he dropped the hook: "What, +Soames! What's brought you up? Aren't you well?" + +He answered mechanically: "I'm all right," and looked at them, +and it seemed impossible to bring out his news. + +James, quick to take alarm, began: "You don't look well. I +expect you've taken a chill--it's liver, I shouldn't wonder. +Your mother'll give you...." + +But Emily broke in quietly: "Have you brought Irene?" + +Soames shook his head. + +"No," he stammered, "she--she's left me!" + +Emily deserted the mirror before which she was standing. Her +tall, full figure lost its majesty and became very human as she +came running over to Soames. + +"My dear boy! My dear boy!" + +She put her lips to his forehead, and stroked his hand. + +James, too, had turned full towards his son; his face looked +older. + +"Left you?" he said. "What d'you mean--left you? You never told +me she was going to leave you." + +Soames answered surlily: "How could I tell? What's to be done?" + +James began walking up and down; he looked strange and stork-like +without a coat. "What's to be done!" he muttered. "How should I +know what's to be done? What's the good of asking me? Nobody +tells me anything, and then they come and ask me what's to be +done; and I should like to know how I'm to tell them! Here's +your mother, there she stands; she doesn't say anything. What I +should say you've got to do is to follow her.." + +Soames smiled; his peculiar, supercilious smile had never before +looked pitiable. + +"I don't know where she's gone," he said. + +"Don't know where she's gone!" said James. "How d'you mean, +don't know where she's gone? Where d'you suppose she's gone? +She's gone after that young Bosinney, that's where she's gone. I +knew how it would be." + +Soames, in the long silence that followed, felt his mother +pressing his hand. And all that passed seemed to pass as though +his own power of thinking or doing had gone to sleep. + +His father's face, dusky red, twitching as if he were going to +cry, and words breaking out that seemed rent from him by some +spasm in his soul. + +"There'll be a scandal; I always said so." Then, no one saying +anything: "And there you stand, you and your mother!" + +And Emily's voice, calm, rather contemptuous: "Come, now, James! +Soames will do all that he can." + +And James, staring at the floor, a little brokenly: "Well, I +can't help you; I'm getting old. Don't you be in too great a +hurry, my boy." + +And his mother's voice again: "Soames will do all he can to get +her back. We won't talk of it. It'll all come right, I dare +say." + +And James: "Well, I can't see how it can come right. And if she +hasn't gone off with that young Bosinney, my advice to you is not +to listen to her, but to follow her and get her back." + +Once more Soames felt his mother stroking his hand, in token of +her approval, and as though repeating some form of sacred oath, +he muttered between his teeth: "I will!" + +All three went down to the drawing-room together. There, were +gathered the three girls and Dartie; had Irene been present, the +family circle would have been complete. + +James sank into his armchair, and except for a word of cold +greeting to Dartie, whom he both despised and dreaded, as a man +likely to be always in want of money, he said nothing till dinner +was announced. Soames, too, was silent; Emily alone, a woman of +cool courage, maintained a conversation with Winifred on trivial +subjects. She was never more composed in her manner and +conversation than that evening. + +A decision having been come to not to speak of Irene's flight, no +view was expressed by any other member of the family as to the +right course to be pursued; there can be little doubt, from the +general tone adopted in relation to events as they afterwards +turned out, that James's advice: "Don't you listen to her, +follow-her and get her back!" would, with here and there an +exception, have been regarded as sound, not only in Park Lane, +but amongst the Nicholases, the Rogers, and at Timothy's. Just +as it would surely have been endorsed by that wider body of +Forsytes all over London, who were merely excluded from judgment +by ignorance of the story. + +In spite then of Emily's efforts, the dinner was served by +Warmson and the footman almost in silence. Dartie was sulky, and +drank all he could get; the girls seldom talked to each other at +any time. James asked once where June was, and what she was +doing with herself in these days. No one could tell him. He +sank back into gloom. Only when Winifred recounted how little +Publius had given his bad penny to a beggar, did he brighten up. + +"Ah!" he said, "that's a clever little chap. I don't know +what'll become of him, if he goes on like this. An intelligent +little chap, I call him!" But it was only a flash. + +The courses succeeded one another solemnly, under the electric +light, which glared down onto the table, but barely reached the +principal ornament of the walls, a so-called 'Sea Piece by +Turner,' almost entirely composed of cordage and drowning men. + +Champagne was handed, and then a bottle of James' prehistoric +port, but as by the chill hand of some skeleton. + +At ten o'clock Soames left; twice in reply to questions, he had +said that Irene was not well; he felt he could no longer trust +himself. His mother kissed him with her large soft kiss, and he +pressed her hand, a flush of warmth in his cheeks. He walked +away in the cold wind, which whistled desolately round the +corners of the streets, under a sky of clear steel-blue, alive +with stars; he noticed neither their frosty greeting, nor the +crackle of the curled-up plane-leaves, nor the night-women +hurrying in their shabby furs, nor the pinched faces of vagabonds +at street corners. Winter was come! But Soames hastened home, +oblivious; his hands trembled as he took the late letters from +the gilt wire cage into which they had been thrust through the +slit in the door.' + +None from Irene! + +He went into the dining-room; the fire was bright there, his +chair drawn up to it, slippers ready, spirit case, and carven +cigarette box on the table; but after staring at it all for a +minute or two, he turned out the light and went upstairs. +There was a fire too in his dressing-room, but her room was +dark and cold. It was into this room that Soames went. + +He made a great illumination with candles, and for a long time +continued pacing up and down between the bed and the door. He +could not get used to the thought that she had really left him, +and as though still searching for some message, some reason, some +reading of all the mystery of his married life, he began opening +every recess and drawer. + +There were her dresses; he had always liked, indeed insisted, +that she should be well-dressed--she had taken very few; two or +three at most, and drawer after drawer; full of linen and silk +things, was untouched. + +Perhaps after all it was only a freak, and she had gone to the +seaside for a few days' change. If only that were so, and she +were really coming back, he would never again do as he had done +that fatal night before last, never again run that risk--though +it was her duty, her duty as a wife; though she did belong to +him--he would never again run that risk; she was evidently not +quite right in her head! + +He stooped over the drawer where she kept her jewels; it was not +locked, and came open as he pulled; the jewel box had the key in +it. This surprised him until he remembered that it was sure to +be empty. He opened it. + +It was far from empty. Divided, in little green velvet +compartments, were all the things he had given her, even her +watch, and stuck into the recess that contained--the watch was a +three-cornered note addressed 'Soames Forsyte,' in Irene's +handwriting: + +'I think I have taken nothing that you or your people have given +me.' And that was all. + +He looked at the clasps and bracelets of diamonds and pearls, at +the little flat gold watch with a great diamond set in sapphires, +at the chains and rings, each in its nest, and the tears rushed +up in his eyes and dropped upon them. + +Nothing that she could have done, nothing that she had done, +brought home to him like this the inner significance of her act. +For the moment, perhaps, he understood nearly all there was to +understand--understood that she loathed him, that she had loathed +him for years, that for all intents and purposes they were like +people living in different worlds, that there was no hope for +him, never had been; even, that she had suffered--that she was to +be pitied. + +In that moment of emotion he betrayed the Forsyte in him--forgot +himself, his interests, his property--was capable of almost +anything; was lifted into the pure ether of the selfless and +unpractical. + +Such moments pass quickly. + +And as though with the tears he had purged himself of weakness, +he got up, locked the box, and slowly, almost trembling, carried +it with him into the other room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JUNE'S VICTORY + + +June had waited for her chance, scanning the duller columns of +the journals, morning and evening with an assiduity which at +first puzzled old Jolyon; and when her chance came, she took it +with all the promptitude and resolute tenacity of her character. + +She will always remember best in her life that morning when at +last she saw amongst the reliable Cause List of the Times +newspaper, under the heading of Court XIII, Mr. Justice Bentham, +the case of Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +Like a gambler who stakes his last piece of money, she had +prepared to hazard her all upon this throw; it was not her nature +to contemplate defeat. How, unless with the instinct of a woman +in love, she knew that Bosinney's discomfiture in this action was +assured, cannot be told--on this assumption, however, she laid +her plans, as upon a certainty. + +Half past eleven found her at watch in the gallery of Court +XIII., and there she remained till the case of Forsyte v. +Bosinney was over. Bosinney's absence did not disquiet her; she +had felt instinctively that he would not defend himself. At the +end of the judgment she hastened down, and took a cab to his +rooms. + +She passed the open street-door and the offices on the three +lower floors without attracting notice; not till she reached the +top did her difficulties begin. + +Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind +whether she would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement +to let her in to await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently +outside the door, trusting that no one would, come up. She +decided on the latter course. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in freezing vigil on the landing, +before it occurred to her that Bosinney had been used to leave +the key of his rooms under the door-mat. She looked and found it +there. For some minutes she could not decide to make use of it; +at last she let herself in and left the door open that anyone who +came might see she was there on business. + +This was not the same June who had paid the trembling visit five +months ago; those months of suffering and restraint had made her +less sensitive; she had dwelt on this visit so long, with such +minuteness, that its terrors were discounted beforehand. She was +not there to fail this time, for if she failed no one could help +her. + +Like some mother beast on the watch over her young, her little +quick figure never stood still in that room, but wandered from +wall to wall, from window to door, fingering now one thing, now +another. There was dust everywhere, the room could not have been +cleaned for weeks, and June, quick to catch at anything that +should buoy up her hope, saw in it a sign that he had been +obliged, for economy's sake, to give up his servant. + +She looked into the bedroom; the bed was roughly made, as though +by the hand of man. Listening intently, she darted in, and +peered into his cupboards. A few shirts and collars, a pair of +muddy boots--the room was bare even of garments. + +She stole back to the sitting-room, and now she noticed the +absence of all the little things he had set store by. The clock +that had been his mother's, the field-glasses that had hung over +the sofa; two really valuable old prints of Harrow, where his +father had been at school, and last, not least, the piece of +Japanese pottery she herself had given him. All were gone; and +in spite of the rage roused within her championing soul at the +thought that the world should treat him thus, their disappearance +augured happily for the success of her plan. + +It was while looking at the spot where the piece of Japanese +pottery had stood that she felt a strange certainty of being +watched, and, turning, saw Irene in the open doorway. + +The two stood gazing at each other for a minute in silence; then +June walked forward and held out her hand. Irene did not take +it. + +When her hand was refused, June put it behind her. Her eyes grew +steady with anger; she waited for Irene to speak; and thus +waiting, took in, with who-knows-what rage of jealousy, +suspicion, and curiosity, every detail of her friend's face and +dress and figure. + +Irene was clothed in her long grey fur; the travelling cap on her +head left a wave of gold hair visible above her forehead. The +soft fullness of the coat made her face as small as a child's. + +Unlike June's cheeks, her cheeks had no colour in them, but were +ivory white and pinched as if with cold. Dark circles lay round +her eyes. In one hand she held a bunch of violets. + +She looked back at June, no smile on her lips; and with those +great dark eyes fastened on her, the girl, for all her startled +anger, felt something of the old spell. + +She spoke first, after all. + +"What have you come for?" But the feeling that she herself was +being asked the same question, made her add: "This horrible case. +I came to tell him--he has lost it." + +Irene did not speak, her eyes never moved from June's face, and +the girl cried: + +"Don't stand there as if you were made of stone!" + +Irene laughed: "I wish to God I were!" + +But June turned away: "Stop!" she cried, "don't tell me! I don't +want to hear! I don't want to hear what you've come for. I +don't want to hear!" And like some uneasy spirit, she began +swiftly walking to and fro. Suddenly she broke out: + +"I was here first. We can't both stay here together!" + +On Irene's face a smile wandered up, and died out like a flicker +of firelight. She did not move. And then it was that June +perceived under the softness arid immobility of this figure +something desperate and resolved; something not to be turned +away, something dangerous. She tore off her hat, and, putting +both hands to her brow, pressed back the bronze mass of her hair. + +"You have no right here!" she cried defiantly. + +Irene answered: "I have no right anywhere! + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have left Soames. You always wanted me to!" + +June put her hands over her ears. + +"Don't! I don't want to hear anything--I don't want to know +anything. It's impossible to fight with you! What makes you +stand like that? Why don't you go?" + +Irene's lips moved; she seemed to be saying: "Where should I go?" + +June turned to the window. She could see the face of a clock +down in the street. It was nearly four. At any moment he might +come! She looked back across her shoulder, and her face was +distorted with anger. + +But Irene had not moved; in her gloved hands she ceaselessly +turned and twisted the little bunch of violets. + +The tears of rage and disappointment rolled down June's cheeks. + +"How could you come?" she said. "You have been a false friend to +me!" + +Again Irene laughed. June saw that she had played a wrong card, +and broke down. + +"Why have you come?" she sobbed. "You've ruined my life, and now +you want to ruin his!" + +Irene's mouth quivered; her eyes met June's with a look so +mournful that the girl cried out in the midst of her sobbing, +"No, no!" + +But Irene's head bent till it touched her breast. She turned, +and went quickly out, hiding her lips with the little bunch of +violets. + +June ran to the door. She heard the footsteps going down and +down. She called out: "Come back, Irene! Come back!" + +The footsteps died away.... + +Bewildered and torn, the girl stood at the top of the stairs. +Why had Irene gone, leaving her mistress of the field? What did +it mean? Had she really given him up to her? Or had she...? +And she was the prey of a gnawing uncertainty.... Bosinney did +not come.... + +About six o'clock that afternoon old Jolyon returned from +Wistaria Avenue, where now almost every day he spent some hours, +and asked if his grand-daughter were upstairs. On being told +that she had just come in, he sent up to her room to request her +to come down and speak to him. + +He had made up his mind to tell her that he was reconciled with +her father. In future bygones must be bygones. He would no +longer live alone, or practically alone, in this great house; he +was going to give it up, and take one in the country for his son, +where they could all go and live together. If June did not like +this, she could have an allowance and live by herself. It +wouldn't make much difference to her, for it was a long time +since she had shown him any affection. + +But when June came down, her face was pinched and piteous; there +was a strained, pathetic look in her eyes. She snuggled up in +her old attitude on the arm of his chair, and what he said +compared but poorly with the clear, authoritative, injured +statement he had thought out with much care. His heart felt +sore, as the great heart of a mother-bird feels sore when its +youngling flies and bruises its wing. His words halted, as +though he were apologizing for having at last deviated from the +path of virtue, and succumbed, in defiance of sounder principles, +to his more natural instincts. + +He seemed nervous lest, in thus announcing his intentions, he +should be setting his granddaughter a bad example; and now that +he came to the point, his way of putting the suggestion that, if +she didn't like it, she could live by herself and lump it, was +delicate in the extreme.' + +"And if, by any chance, my darling," he said, "you found you +didn't get on--with them, why, I could make that all right. You +could have what you liked. We could find a little flat in London +where you could set up, and I could be running to continually. +But the children," he added, "are dear little things!" + +Then, in the midst of this grave, rather transparent, explanation +of changed policy, his eyes twinkled. "This'll astonish +Timothy's weak nerves. That precious young thing will have +something to say about this, or I'm a Dutchman!" + +June had not yet spoken. Perched thus on the arm of his chair, +with her head above him, her face was invisible. But presently +he felt her warm cheek against his own, and knew that, at all +events, there was nothing very alarming in her attitude towards +his news. He began to take courage. + +"You'll like your father," he said--"an amiable chap. Never was +much push about him, but easy to get on with. You'll find him +artistic and all that." + +And old Jolyon bethought him of the dozen or so water-colour +drawings all carefully locked up in his bedroom; for now that his +son was going to become a man of property he did not think them +quite such poor things as heretofore. + +"As to your--your stepmother," he said, using the word with some +little difficulty, "I call her a refined woman--a bit of a Mrs. +Gummidge, I shouldn't wonder--but very fond of Jo. And the +children," he repeated--indeed, this sentence ran like music +through all his solemn self-justification--"are sweet little +things!" + +If June had known, those words but reincarnated that tender love +for little children, for the young and weak, which in the past +had made him desert his son for her tiny self, and now, as the +cycle rolled, was taking him from her. + +But he began to get alarmed at her silence, and asked +impatiently: "Well, what do you say?" + +June slid down to his knee, and she in her turn began her tale. +She thought it would all go splendidly; she did not see any +difficulty, and she did not care a bit what people thought. + +Old Jolyon wriggled. H'm! then people would think! He had +thought that after all these years perhaps they wouldn't! Well, +he couldn't help it! Nevertheless, he could not approve of his +granddaughter's way of putting it--she ought to mind what people +thought! + +Yet he said nothing. His feelings were too mixed, too +inconsistent for expression. + +No--went on June he did not care; what business was it of theirs? +There was only one thing--and with her cheek pressing against his +knee, old Jolyon knew at once that this something was no trifle: +As he was going to buy a house in the country, would he not--to +please her--buy that splendid house of Soames' at Robin Hill? It +was finished, it was perfectly beautiful, and no one would live +in it now. They would all be so happy there. + +Old Jolyon was on the alert at once. Wasn't the 'man of +property' going to live in his new house, then? He never alluded +to Soames now but under this title. + +"No"--June said--"he was not; she knew that he was not!" + +How did she know? + +She could not tell him, but she knew. She knew nearly for +certain! It was most unlikely; circumstances had changed! +Irene's words still rang in her head: "I have left Soames. +Where should I go?" + +But she kept silence about that. + +If her grandfather would only buy it and settle that wretched +claim that ought never to have been made on Phil! It would be +the very best thing for everybody, and everything--everything +might come straight + +And June put her lips to his forehead, and pressed them close. + +But old Jolyon freed himself from her caress, his face wore the +judicial look which came upon it when he dealt with affairs. He +asked: What did she mean? There was something behind all this-- +had she been seeing Bosinney? + +June answered: "No; but I have been to his rooms." + +"Been to his rooms? Who took you there?" + +June faced him steadily. "I went alone. He has lost that case. +I don't care whether it was right or wrong. I want to help him; +and I will!" + +Old Jolyon asked again: "Have you seen him?" His glance seemed to +pierce right through the girl's eyes into her soul. + +Again June answered: "No; he was not there. I waited, but he did +not come." + +Old Jolyon made a movement of relief. She had risen and looked +down at him; so slight, and light, and young, but so fixed, and +so determined; and disturbed, vexed, as he was, he could not +frown away that fixed look. The feeling of being beaten, of the +reins having slipped, of being old and tired, mastered him. + +"Ah!" he said at last, "you'll get yourself into a mess one of +these days, I can see. You want your own way in everything." + +Visited by one of his strange bursts of philosophy, he added: +"Like that you were born; and like that you'll stay until you +die!" + +And he, who in his dealings with men of business, with Boards, +with Forsytes of all descriptions, with such as were not +Forsytes, had always had his own way, looked at his indomitable +grandchild sadly--for he felt in her that quality which above all +others he unconsciously admired. + +"Do you know what they say is going on?" he said slowly. + +June crimsoned. + +"Yes--no! I know--and I don't know--I don't care!" and she +stamped her foot. + +"I believe," said old Jolyon, dropping his eyes, "that you'd have +him if he were dead!' + +There was a long silence before he spoke again. + +"But as to buying this house--you don't know what you're talking +about!" + +June said that she did. She knew that he could get it if he +wanted. He would only have to give what it cost. + +"What it cost! You know nothing about it. I won't go to Soames- +--I'll have nothing more to do with that young man." + +"But you needn't; you can go to Uncle James. If you can't buy +the house, will you pay his lawsuit claim? I know he is terribly +hard up--I've seen it. You can stop it out of my money!" + +A twinkle came into old Jolyon's eyes. + +"Stop it out of your money! A pretty way + +And what will you do, pray, without your money?" + +But secretly, the idea of wresting the house from James and his +son had begun to take hold of him. He had heard on Forsyte +'Change much comment, much rather doubtful praise of this house. +It was 'too artistic,' but a fine place. To take from the 'man +of property' that on which he had set his heart, would be a +crowning triumph over James, practical proof that he was going to +make a man of property of Jo, to put him back in his proper +position, and there to keep him secure. Justice once for all on +those who had chosen to regard his son as a poor, penniless +outcast. + +He would see, he would see! It might be out of the question; he +was not going to pay a fancy price, but if it could be done, why, +perhaps he would do it! + +And still more secretly he knew that he could not refuse her. + +But he did not commit himself. He would think it over--he said +to June. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BOSINNEY'S DEPARTURE + + +Old Jolyon was not given to hasty decisions; it is probable that +he would have continued to think over the purchase of the house +at Robin Hill, had not June's face told him that he would have no +peace until he acted. + +At breakfast next morning she asked him what time she should +order the carriage. + +"Carriage!" he said, with some appearance of innocence; "what +for? I'm not going out!" + +She answered: "If you don't go early, you won't catch Uncle James +before he goes into the City." + +"James! what about your Uncle James?" + +"The house," she replied, in such a voice that he no longer +pretended ignorance. + +"I've not made up my mind," he said. + +"You must! You must! Oh! Gran--think of me!" + +Old Jolyon grumbled out: "Think of you--I'm always thinking of +you, but you don't think of yourself; you don't think what you're +letting yourself in for. Well, order the carriage at ten!" + +At a quarter past he was placing his umbrella in the stand at +Park Lane--he did not choose to relinquish his hat and coat; +telling Warmson that he wanted to see his master, he went, +without being announced, into the study, and sat down. + +James was still in the dining-room talking to Soames, who had +come round again before breakfast. On hearing who his visitor +was, he muttered nervously: "Now, what's be want, I wonder?" + +He then got up. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "don't you go doing anything in a +hurry. The first thing is to find out where she is--I should go +to Stainer's about it; they're the best men, if they can't find +her, nobody can." And suddenly moved to strange softness, he +muttered to himself, "Poor little thing, I can't tell what she +was thinking about!" and went out blowing his nose. + +Old Jolyon did not rise on seeing his brother, but held out his +hand, and exchanged with him the clasp of a Forsyte. + +James took another chair by the table, and leaned his head on his +hand. + +"Well," he said, "how are you? We don't see much of you +nowadays!" + +Old Jolyon paid no attention to the remark. + +"How's Emily?" he asked; and waiting for no reply, went on +"I've come to see you about this affair of young Bosinney's. I'm +told that new house of his is a white elephant." + +"I don't know anything about a white elephant," said James, "I +know he's lost his case, and I should say he'll go bankrupt." + +Old Jolyon was not slow to seize the opportunity this gave him. + +"I shouldn't wonder a bit!" he agreed; "and if he goes bankrupt, +the 'man of property'--that is, Soames'll be out of pocket. Now, +what I was thinking was this: If he's not going to live there...." + +Seeing both surprise and suspicion in James' eye, he quickly went +on: "I don't want to know anything; I suppose Irene's put her +foot down--it's not material to me. But I'm thinking of a house +in the country myself, not too far from London, and if it suited +me I don't say that I mightn't look at it, at a price." + +James listened to this statement with a strange mixture of doubt, +suspicion, and relief, merging into a dread of something behind, +and tinged with the remains of his old undoubted reliance upon +his elder brother's good faith and judgment. There was anxiety, +too, as to what old Jolyon could have heard and how he had heard +it; and a sort of hopefulness arising from the thought that if +June's connection with Bosinney were completely at an end, her +grandfather would hardly seem anxious to help the young fellow. +Altogether he was puzzled; as he did not like either to show +this, or to commit himself in any way, he said: + +"They tell me you're altering your Will in favour of your son." + +He had not been told this; he had merely added the fact of having +seen old Jolyon with his son and grandchildren to the fact that +he had taken his Will away from Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte. +The shot went home. + +"Who told you that?" asked old Jolyon. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said James; "I can't remember names--I +know somebody told me Soames spent a lot of money on this house; +he's not likely to part with it except at a good price." + +"Well," said old Jolyon, "if, he thinks I'm going to pay a fancy +price, he's mistaken. I've not got the money to throw away that +he seems to have. Let him try and sell it at a forced sale, and +see what he'll get. It's not every man's house, I hear!" + +James, who was secretly also of this opinion, answered: "It's a +gentleman's house. Soames is here now if you'd like to see him." + +"No," said old Jolyon, "I haven't got as far as that; and I'm not +likely to, I can see that very well if I'm met in this manner!" + +James was a little cowed; when it came to the actual figures of a +commercial transaction he was sure of himself, for then he was +dealing with facts, not with men; but preliminary negotiations +such as these made him nervous--he never knew quite how far he +could go. + +"Well," he said, "I know nothing about it. Soames, he tells me +nothing; I should think he'd entertain it--it's a question of +price." + +"Oh!" said old Jolyon, "don't let him make a favour of it!" He +placed his hat on his head in dudgeon. + +The door was opened and Soames came in. + +"There's a policeman out here," he said with his half smile, "for +Uncle Jolyon." + +Old Jolyon looked at him angrily, and James said: "A policeman? +I don't know anything about a policeman. But I suppose you know +something about him," he added to old Jolyon with a look of +suspicion: "I suppose you'd better see him!" + +In the hall an Inspector of Police stood stolidly regarding with +heavy-lidded pale-blue eyes the fine old English furniture picked +up by James at the famous Mavrojano sale in Portman Square. +"You'll find my brother in there," said James. + +The Inspector raised his fingers respectfully to his peaked cap, +and entered the study. + +James saw him go in with a strange sensation. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "I suppose we must wait and see what +he wants. Your uncle's been here about the house!" + +He returned with Soames into the dining-room, but could not rest. + +"Now what does he want?" he murmured again. + +"Who?" replied Soames: "the Inspector? They sent him round from +Stanhope Gate, that's all I know. That 'nonconformist' of Uncle +Jolyon's has been pilfering, I shouldn't wonder!" + +But in spite of his calmness, he too was ill at ease. + +At the end of ten minutes old Jolyon came in. He walked up to +the table, and stood there perfectly silent pulling at his long +white moustaches. James gazed up at him with opening mouth; he +had never seen his brother look like this. + +Old Jolyon raised his hand, and said slowly: + +"Young Bosinney has been run over in the fog and killed." + +Then standing above his brother and his nephew, and looking down +at him with his deep eyes: + +"There's--some--talk--of--suicide," he said. + +James' jaw dropped. "Suicide! What should he do that for?" + +Old Jolyon answered sternly: "God knows, if you and your son +don't!" + +But James did not reply. + +For all men of great age, even for all Forsytes, life has had +bitter experiences. The passer-by, who sees them wrapped in +cloaks of custom, wealth, and comfort, would never suspect that +such black shadows had fallen on their roads. To every man of +great age--to Sir Walter Bentham himself--the idea of suicide has +once at least been present in the ante-room of his soul; on the +threshold, waiting to enter, held out from the inmost chamber by +some chance reality, some vague fear, some painful hope. To +Forsytes that final renunciation of property is hard. Oh! it is +hard! Seldom--perhaps never--can they achieve, it; and yet, how +near have they not sometimes been! + +So even with James! Then in the medley of his thoughts, he broke +out: "Why I saw it in the paper yesterday: 'Run over in the fog!' +They didn't know his name!" He turned from one face to the other +in his confusion of soul; but instinctively all the time he was +rejecting that rumour of suicide. He dared not entertain this +thought, so against his interest, against the interest of his +son, of every Forsyte. He strove against it; and as his nature +ever unconsciously rejected that which it could not with safety +accept, so gradually he overcame this fear. It was an accident! +It must have been! + +Old Jolyon broke in on his reverie. + +"Death was instantaneous. He lay all day yesterday at the +hospital. There was nothing to tell them who he was. I am going +there now; you and your son had better come too." + +No one opposing this command he led the way from the room. + +The day was still and clear and bright, and driving over to Park +Lane from Stanhope Gate, old Jolyon had had the carriage open. +Sitting back on the padded cushions, finishing his cigar, he had +noticed with pleasure the keen crispness of the air, the bustle +of the cabs and people; the strange, almost Parisian, alacrity +that the first fine day will bring into London streets after a +spell of fog or rain. And he had felt so happy; he had not felt +like it for months. His confession to June was off his mind; he +had the prospect of his son's, above all, of his grandchildren's +company in the future--(he had appointed to meet young Jolyon at +the Hotch Potch that very manning to--discuss it again); and +there was the pleasurable excitement of a coming encounter, a +coming victory, over James and the 'man of property' in the +matter of the house. + +He had the carriage closed now; he had no heart to look on +gaiety; nor was it right that Forsytes should be seen driving +with an Inspector of Police. + +In that carriage the Inspector spoke again of the death: + +"It was not so very thick--Just there. The driver says the +gentleman must have had time to see what he was about, he seemed +to walk right into it. It appears that he was very hard up, we +found several pawn tickets at his rooms, his account at the bank +is overdrawn, and there's this case in to-day's papers;" his cold +blue eyes travelled from one to another of the three Forsytes in +the carriage. + +Old Jolyon watching from his corner saw his brother's face +change, and the brooding, worried, look deepen on it. At the +Inspector's words, indeed, all James' doubts and fears revived. +Hard-up--pawn-tickets--an overdrawn account! These words that +had all his life been a far-off nightmare to him, seemed to make +uncannily real that suspicion of suicide which must on no account +be entertained. He sought his son's eye; but lynx-eyed, +taciturn, immovable, Soames gave no answering look. And to old +Jolyon watching, divining the league of mutual defence between +them, there came an overmastering desire to have his own son at +his side, as though this visit to the dead man's body was a +battle in which otherwise he must single-handed meet those two. +And the thought of how to keep June's name out of the business +kept whirring in his brain. James had his son to support him! +Why should he not send for Jo? + +Taking out his card-case, he pencilled the following message: + +'Come round at once. I've sent the carriage for you.' + +On getting out he gave this card to his coachman, telling him to +drive--as fast as possible to the Hotch Potch Club, and if Mr. +Jolyon Forsyte were there to give him the card and bring him at +once. If not there yet, he was to wait till he came. + +He followed the others slowly up the steps, leaning on his +umbrella, and stood a moment to get his breath. The Inspector +said: "This is the mortuary, sir. But take your time." + +In the bare, white-walled room, empty of all but a streak of +sunshine smeared along the dustless floor, lay a form covered by +a sheet. With a huge steady hand the Inspector took the hem and +turned it back. A sightless face gazed up at them, and on either +side of that sightless defiant face the three Forsytes gazed +down; in each one of them the secret emotions, fears, and pity of +his own nature rose and fell like the rising, falling waves of +life, whose wish those white walls barred out now for ever from +Bosinney. And in each one of them the trend of his nature, the +odd essential spring, which moved him in fashions minutely, +unalterably different from those of every other human being, +forced him to a different attitude of thought. Far from the +others, yet inscrutably close, each stood thus, alone with death, +silent, his eyes lowered. + +The Inspector asked softly: + +"You identify the gentleman, sir?" + +Old Jolyon raised his head and nodded. He looked at his brother +opposite, at that long lean figure brooding over the dead man, +with face dusky red, and strained grey eyes; and at the figure of +Soames white and still by his father's side. And all that he had +felt against those two was gone like smoke in the long white +presence of Death. Whence comes it, how comes it--Death? Sudden +reverse of all that goes before; blind setting forth on a path +that leads to where? Dark quenching of the fire! The heavy, +brutal crushing--out that all men must go through, keeping their +eyes clear and brave unto the end! Small and of no import, +insects though they are! And across old Jolyon's face there +flitted a gleam, for Soames, murmuring to the Inspector, crept +noiselessly away. + +Then suddenly James raised his eyes. There was a queer appeal in +that suspicious troubled look: "I know I'm no match for you," it +seemed to say. And, hunting for handkerchief he wiped his brow; +then, bending sorrowful and lank over the dead man, he too turned +and hurried out. + +Old Jolyon stood, still as death, his eyes fixed on the body. +Who shall tell of what he was thinking? Of himself, when his +hair was brown like the hair of that young fellow dead before +him? Of himself, with his battle just beginning, the long, long +battle he had loved; the battle that was over for this young man +almost before it had begun? Of his grand-daughter, with her +broken hopes? Of that other woman? Of the strangeness, and the +pity of it? And the irony, inscrutable, and bitter of that end? +Justice! There was no justice for men, for they were ever in the +dark! + +Or perhaps in his philosophy he thought: Better to be out of, it +all! Better to have done with it, like this poor youth.... + +Some one touched him on the arm. + +A tear started up and wetted his eyelash. "Well," he said, "I'm +no good here. I'd better be going. You'll come to me as soon as +you can, Jo," and with his head bowed he went away. + +It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, +round whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes +breathless, and prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly. + +The forces underlying every tragedy--forces that take no denial, +working through cross currents to their ironical end, had met and +fused with a thunder-clap, flung out the victim, and flattened to +the ground all those that stood around. + +Or so at all events young Jolyon seemed to see them, lying around +Bosinney's body. + +He asked the Inspector to tell him what had happened, and the +latter, like a man who does not every day get such a chance, +again detailed such facts as were known. + +"There's more here, sir, however," he said, "than meets the eye. +I don't believe in suicide, nor in pure accident, myself. It's +more likely I think that he was suffering under great stress +of mind, and took no notice of things about him. Perhaps you can +throw some light on these." + +He took from his pocket a little packet and laid it on the table. +Carefully undoing it, he revealed a lady's handkerchief, pinned +through the folds with a pin of discoloured Venetian gold, the +stone of which had fallen from the socket. A scent of dried +violets rose to young Jolyon's nostrils. + +"Found in his breast pocket," said the Inspector; "the name has +been cut away!" + +Young Jolyon with difficulty answered: "I'm afraid I cannot help +you!" But vividly there rose before him the face he had seen +light up, so tremulous and glad, at Bosinney's coming! Of her he +thought more than of his own daughter, more than of them all--of +her with the dark, soft glance, the delicate passive face, +waiting for the dead man, waiting even at that moment, perhaps, +still and patient in the sunlight. + +He walked sorrowfully away from the hospital towards his father's +house, reflecting that this death would break up the Forsyte +family. The stroke had indeed slipped past their defences into +the very wood of their tree. They might flourish to all +appearance as before, preserving a brave show before the eyes of +London, but the trunk was dead, withered by the same flash that +had stricken down Bosinney. And now the saplings would take its +place, each one a new custodian of the sense of property. + +Good forest of Forsytes! thought young Jolyon--soundest timber +of our land! + +Concerning the cause of this death--his family would doubtless +reject with vigour the suspicion of suicide, which was so +compromising! They would take it as an accident, a stroke of +fate. In their hearts they would even feel it an intervention of +Providence, a retribution--had not Bosinney endangered their two +most priceless possessions, the pocket and the hearth? And they +would talk of 'that unfortunate accident of young Bosinney's,' +but perhaps they would not talk--silence might be better! + +As for himself, he regarded the bus-driver's account of the +accident as of very little value. For no one so madly in love +committed suicide for want of money; nor was Bosinney the sort of +fellow to set much store by a financial crisis. And so he too +rejected this theory of suicide, the dead man's face rose too +clearly before him. Gone in the heyday of his summer--and to +believe thus that an accident had cut Bosinney off in the full +sweep of his passion was more than ever pitiful to young Jolyon. + +Then came a vision of Soames' home as it now was, and must be +hereafter. The streak of lightning had flashed its clear uncanny +gleam on bare bones with grinning spaces between, the disguising +flesh was gone.... + +In the dining-room at Stanhope Gate old Jolyon was sitting alone +when his son came in. He looked very wan in his great armchair. +And his eyes travelling round the walls with their pictures of +still life, and the masterpiece 'Dutch fishing-boats at Sunset' +seemed as though passing their gaze over his life with its hopes, +its gains, its achievements. + +"Ah! Jo!" he said, "is that you? I've told poor little June. +But that's not all of it. Are you going to Soames'? She's +brought it on herself, I suppose; but somehow I can't bear to +think of her, shut up there--and all alone." And holding up his +thin, veined hand, he clenched it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IRENE'S RETURN + + +After leaving James and old Jolyon in the mortuary of the +hospital, Soames hurried aimlessly along the streets. + +The tragic event of Bosinney's death altered the complexion of +everything. There was no longer the same feeling that to lose a +minute would be fatal, nor would he now risk communicating the +fact of his wife's flight to anyone till the inquest was over. + +That morning he had risen early, before the postman came, had +taken the first-post letters from the box himself, and, though +there had been none from Irene, he had made an opportunity of +telling Bilson that her mistress was at the sea; he would +probably, he said, be going down himself from Saturday to Monday. +This had given him time to breathe, time to leave no stone +unturned to find her. + +But now, cut off from taking steps by Bosinney's death--that +strange death, to think of which was like putting a hot iron to +his heart, like lifting a great weight from it--he did not know +how to pass his day; and he wandered here and there through the +streets, looking at every face he met, devoured by a hundred +anxieties. + +And as he wandered, he thought of him who had finished his +wandering, his prowling, and would never haunt his house again. + +Already in the afternoon he passed posters announcing the +identity of the dead man, and bought the papers to see what they +said. He would stop their mouths if he could, and he went into +the City, and was closeted with Boulter for a long time. + +On his way home, passing the steps of Jobson's about half past +four, he met George Forsyte, who held out an evening paper to +Soames, saying: + +"Here! Have you seen this about the poor Buccaneer?" + +Soames answered stonily: "Yes." + +George stared at him. He had never liked Soames; he now held him +responsible for Bosinney's death. Soames had done for him--done +for him by that act of property that had sent the Buccaneer to +run amok that fatal afternoon. + +'The poor fellow,' he was thinking, 'was so cracked with +jealousy, so cracked for his vengeance, that he heard nothing of +the omnibus in that infernal fog.' + +Soames had done for him! And this judgment was in George's eyes. + +"They talk of suicide here," he said at last. "That cat won't +jump." + +Soames shook his head. "An accident," he muttered. + +Clenching his fist on the paper, George crammed it into his +pocket. He could not resist a parting shot. + +"H'mm! All flourishing at home? Any little Soameses yet?" + +With a face as white as the steps of Jobson's, and a lip raised +as if snarling, Soames brushed past him and was gone.... + +On reaching home, and entering the little lighted hall with his +latchkey, the first thing that caught his eye was his wife's +gold-mounted umbrella lying on the rug chest. Flinging off his +fur coat, he hurried to the drawing-room. + +The curtains were drawn for the night, a bright fire of +cedar-logs burned in the grate, and by its light he saw Irene +sitting in her usual corner on the sofa. He shut the door +softly, and went towards her. She did not move, and did not seem +to see him. + +"So you've come back?" he said. "Why are you sitting here in the +dark?" + +Then he caught sight of her face, so white and motionless that it +seemed as though the blood must have stopped flowing in her +veins; and her eyes, that looked enormous, like the great, wide, +startled brown eyes of an owl. + +Huddled in her grey fur against the sofa cushions, she had a +strange resemblance to a captive owl, bunched fir its soft +feathers against the wires of a cage. The supple erectness of +her figure was gone, as though she had been broken by cruel +exercise; as though there were no longer any reason for being +beautiful, and supple, and erect. + +"So you've come back," he repeated. + +She never looked up, and never spoke, the firelight playing over +her motionless figure. + +Suddenly she tried to rise, but he prevented her; it was then +that he understood. + +She had come back like an animal wounded to death, not knowing +where to turn, not knowing what she was doing. The sight of her +figure, huddled in the fur, was enough. + +He knew then for certain that Bosinney had been her lover; knew +that she had seen the report of his death--perhaps, like himself, +had bought a paper at the draughty corner of a street, and read +it. + +She had come back then of her own accord, to the cage she had +pined to be free of--and taking in all the tremendous +significance of this, he longed to cry: "Take your hated body, +that I love, out of my house! Take away that pitiful white face, +so cruel and soft--before I crush it. Get out of my sight; never +let me see you again!" + +And, at those unspoken words, he seemed to see her rise and move +away, like a woman in a terrible dream, from which she was +fighting to awake--rise and go out into the dark and cold, without +a thought of him, without so much as the knowledge of his +presence. + +Then he cried, contradicting what he had not yet spoken, "No; +stay there!" And turning away from her, he sat down in his +accustomed chair on the other side of the hearth. + +They sat in silence. + +And Soames thought: 'Why is all this? Why should I suffer so? +What have I done? It is not my fault!' + +Again he looked at her, huddled like a bird that is shot and +dying, whose poor breast you see panting as the air is taken from +it, whose poor eyes look at you who have shot it, with a slow, +soft, unseeing look, taking farewell of all that is good--of the +sun, and the air, and its mate. + +So they sat, by the firelight, in the silence, one on each side +of the hearth. + +And the fume of the burning cedar logs, that he loved so well, +seemed to grip Soames by the throat till he could bear it no +longer. And going out into the hall he flung the door wide, to +gulp down the cold air that came in; then without hat or overcoat +went out into the Square. + +Along the garden rails a half-starved cat came rubbing her way +towards him, and Soames thought: 'Suffering! when will it cease, +my suffering?' + +At a front door across the way was a man of his acquaintance +named Rutter, scraping his boots, with an air of 'I am master +here.' And Soames walked on. + +>From far in the clear air the bells of the church where he and +Irene had been married were pealing in 'practice' for the advent +of Christ, the chimes ringing out above the sound of traffic. He +felt a craving for strong drink, to lull him to indifference, or +rouse him to fury. If only he could burst out of himself, out of +this web that for the first time in his life he felt around him. +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Divorce her--turn her +out! She has forgotten you. Forget her!' + +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Let her go--she has +suffered enough!' + +If only he could surrender to the desire: 'Make a slave of her-- +she is in your power!' + +If only even he could surrender to the sudden vision: 'What does +it all matter?' Forget himself for a minute, forget that it +mattered what he did, forget that whatever he did he must +sacrifice something. + +If only he could act on an impulse! + +He could forget nothing; surrender to no thought, vision, or +desire; it was all too serious; too close around him, an +unbreakable cage. + +On the far side of the Square newspaper boys were calling their +evening wares, and the ghoulish cries mingled and jangled with +the sound of those church bells. + +Soames covered his ears. The thought flashed across him that but +for a chance, he himself, and not Bosinney, might be lying dead, +and she, instead of crouching there like a shot bird with those +dying eyes.... + +Something soft touched his legs, the cat was rubbing herself +against them. And a sob that shook him from head to foot burst +from Soames' chest. Then all was still again in the dark, where +the houses seemed to stare at him, each with a master and +mistress of its own, and a secret story of happiness or sorrow. + +And suddenly he saw that his own door was open, and black against +the light from the hall a man standing with his back turned. +Something slid too in his breast, and he stole up close behind. + +He could see his own fur coat flung across the carved oak chair; +the Persian rugs; the silver bowls, the rows of porcelain plates +arranged along the walls, and this unknown man who was standing +there. + +And sharply he asked: "What is it you want, sir?" + +The visitor turned. It was young Jolyon. + +"The door was open," he said. "Might I see your wife for a +minute, I have a message for her?" + +Soames gave him a strange, sidelong stare. + +"My wife can see no one," he muttered doggedly. + +Young Jolyon answered gently: "I shouldn't keep her a minute." + +Soames brushed by him and barred the way. + +"She can see no one," he said again. + +Young Jolyon's glance shot past him into the hall, and Soames +turned. There in the drawing-room doorway stood Irene, her eyes +were wild and eager, her lips were parted, her hands out- +stretched. In the sight of both men that light vanished from +her face; her hands dropped to her sides; she stood like stone. + +Soames spun round, and met his visitor's eyes, and at the look he +saw in them, a sound like a snarl escaped him. He drew his lips +back in the ghost of a smile. + +"This is my house," he said; "I manage my own affairs. I've told +you once--I tell you again; we are not at home." + +And in young Jolyon's face he slammed the door. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext Man of Property, by John Galsworthy + diff --git a/old/mnprp10.zip b/old/mnprp10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..65876d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mnprp10.zip diff --git a/old/mnprp11.txt b/old/mnprp11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0828698 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mnprp11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14612 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext of Man of Property, by John Galsworthy +#4 in our series by John Galsworthy +#1 in our series of The Forsyte Saga + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other +Project Gutenberg file. + +We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your +own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future +readers. 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Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +[Spelling conforms to the original: "s's" instead of our "z's"; +and "c's" where we would have "s's"; and "...our" as in colour +and flavour; many interesting double consonants; etc.] + + + + +FORSYTE SAGA + +I. THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +By John Galsworthy + + + +VOLUME I + + + +TO MY WIFE: + + I DEDICATE THE FORSYTE SAGA IN ITS ENTIRETY, + BELIEVING IT TO BE OF ALL MY WORKS THE LEAST + UNWORTHY OF ONE WITHOUT WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT, + SYMPATHY AND CRITICISM COULD NEVER HAVE + BECOME EVEN SUCH A WRITER AS I AM. + + + + +PREFACE: + +"The Forsyte Saga" was the title originally destined for that +part of it which is called "The Man of Property"; and to adopt it +for the collected chronicles of the Forsyte family has indulged +the Forsytean tenacity that is in all of us. The word Saga might +be objected to on the ground that it connotes the heroic and that +there is little heroism in these pages. But it is used with a +suitable irony; and, after all, this long tale, though it may +deal with folk in frock coats, furbelows, and a gilt-edged +period, is not devoid of the essential beat of conflict. +Discounting for the gigantic stature and blood-thirstiness of old +days, as they have come down to us in fairy-tale and legend, the +folk of the old Sagas were Forsytes, assuredly, in their +possessive instincts, and as little proof against the inroads of +beauty and passion as Swithin, Soames, or even Young Jolyon. And +if heroic figures, in days that never were, seem to startle out +from their surroundings in fashion unbecoming to a Forsyte of the +Victorian era, we may be sure that tribal instinct was even then +the prime force, and that "family" and the sense of home and +property counted as they do to this day, for all the recent +efforts to "talk them out." + +So many people have written and claimed that their families were +the originals of the Forsytes that one has been almost encouraged +to believe in the typicality of an imagined species. Manners +change and modes evolve, and "Timothy's on the Bayswater Road" +becomes a nest of the unbelievable in all except essentials; we +shall not look upon its like again, nor perhaps on such a one as +James or Old Jolyon. And yet the figures of Insurance Societies +and the utterances of Judges reassure us daily that our earthly +paradise is still a rich preserve, where the wild raiders, Beauty +and Passion, come stealing in, filching security from beneath our +noses. As surely as a dog will bark at a brass band, so will the +essential Soames in human nature ever rise up uneasily against +the dissolution which hovers round the folds of ownership. + +"Let the dead Past bury its dead" would be a better saying if the +Past ever died. The persistence of the Past is one of those +tragi-comic blessings which each new age denies, coming cocksure +on to the stage to mouth its claim to a perfect novelty. + +But no Age is so new as that! Human Nature, under its changing +pretensions and clothes, is and ever will be very much of a +Forsyte, and might, after all, be a much worse animal. + +Looking back on the Victorian era, whose ripeness, decline, and +'fall-of' is in some sort pictured in "The Forsyte Saga," we see +now that we have but jumped out of a frying-pan into a fire. It +would be difficult to substantiate a claim that the case of +England was better in 1913 than it was in 1886, when the Forsytes +assembled at Old Jolyon's to celebrate the engagement of June to +Philip Bosinney. And in 1920, when again the clan gathered to +bless the marriage of Fleur with Michael Mont, the state of +England is as surely too molten and bankrupt as in the eighties +it was too congealed and low-percented. If these chronicles had + +been a really scientific study of transition one would have dwelt +probably on such factors as the invention of bicycle, motor-car, +and flying-machine; the arrival of a cheap Press; the decline of +country life and increase of the towns; the birth of the Cinema. +Men are, in fact, quite unable to control their own inventions; +they at best develop adaptability to the new conditions those +inventions create. + +But this long tale is no scientific study of a period; it is +rather an intimate incarnation of the disturbance that Beauty +effects in the lives of men. + +The figure of Irene, never, as the reader may possibly have +observed, present, except through the senses of other characters, +is a concretion of disturbing Beauty impinging on a possessive +world. + +One has noticed that readers, as they wade on through the salt +waters of the Saga, are inclined more and more to pity Soames, +and to think that in doing so they are in revolt against the mood +of his creator. Far from it! He, too, pities Soames, the +tragedy of whose life is the very simple, uncontrollable tragedy +of being unlovable, without quite a thick enough skin to be +thoroughly unconscious of the fact. Not even Fleur loves Soames +as he feels he ought to be loved. But in pitying Soames, readers +incline, perhaps, to animus against Irene: After all, they think, +he wasn't a bad fellow, it wasn't his fault; she ought to have +forgiven him, and so on! + +And, taking sides, they lose perception of the simple truth, +which underlies the whole story, that where sex attraction is +utterly and definitely lacking in one partner to a union, no +amount of pity, or reason, or duty, or what not, can overcome a +repulsion implicit in Nature. Whether it ought to, or no, is +beside the point; because in fact it never does. And where Irene +seems hard and cruel, as in the Bois de Boulogne, or the Goupenor +Gallery, she is but wisely realistic--knowing that the least +concession is the inch which precedes the impossible, the +repulsive ell. + +A criticism one might pass on the last phase of the Saga is the +complaint that Irene and Jolyon those rebels against property-- +claim spiritual property in their son Jon. But it would be +hypercriticism, as the tale is told. No father and mother could +have let the boy marry Fleur without knowledge of the facts; and +the facts determine Jon, not the persuasion of his parents. +Moreover, Jolyon's persuasion is not on his own account, but on +Irene's, and Irene's persuasion becomes a reiterated: "Don't +think of me, think of yourself!" That Jon, knowing the facts, can +realise his mother's feelings, will hardly with justice be held +proof that she is, after all, a Forsyte. + +But though the impingement of Beauty and the claims of Freedom on +a possessive world are the main prepossessions of the Forsyte +Saga, it cannot be absolved from the charge of embalming the +upper-middle class. As the old Egyptians placed around their +mummies the necessaries of a future existence, so I have +endeavoured to lay beside the, figures of Aunts Ann and Juley and +Hester, of Timothy and Swithin, of Old Jolyon and James, and of +their sons, that which shall guarantee them a little life here- +after, a little balm in the hurried Gilead of a dissolving +"Progress." + +If the upper-middle class, with other classes, is destined to +"move on" into amorphism, here, pickled in these pages, it lies +under glass for strollers in the wide and ill-arranged museum of +Letters. Here it rests, preserved in its own juice: The Sense +of Property. + +1922. + + + + +THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +by JOHN GALSWORTHY + + + + +"........ You will answer +The slaves are ours ....." +-Merchant of Venice. + + + + +TO EDWARD GARNETT + + + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER I + +'AT HOME' AT OLD JOLYON'S + + +Those privileged to be present at a family festival of the +Forsytes have seen that charming and instructive sight--an upper +middle-class family in full plumage. But whosoever of these +favoured persons has possessed the gift of psychological analysis +(a talent without monetary value and properly ignored by the +Forsytes), has witnessed a spectacle, not only delightful in +itself, but illustrative of an obscure human problem. In plainer +words, he has gleaned from a gathering of this family--no branch +of which had a liking for the other, between no three members of +whom existed anything worthy of the name of sympathy--evidence of +that mysterious concrete tenacity which renders a family so +formidable a unit of society, so clear a reproduction of society +in miniature. He has been admitted to a vision of the dim roads +of social progress, has understood something of patriarchal life, +of the swarmings of savage hordes, of the rise and fall of +nations. He is like one who, having watched a tree grow from its +planting--a paragon of tenacity, insulation, and success, amidst +the deaths of a hundred other plants less fibrous, sappy, and +persistent--one day will see it flourishing with bland, full +foliage, in an almost repugnant prosperity, at the summit of its +efflorescence. + +On June 15, eighteen eighty-six, about four of the afternoon, the +observer who chanced to be present at the house of old Jolyon +Forsyte in Stanhope Gate, might have seen the highest +efflorescence of the Forsytes. + +This was the occasion of an 'at home' to celebrate the engagement +of Miss June Forsyte, old Jolyon's granddaughter, to Mr. Philip +Bosinney. In the bravery of light gloves, buff waistcoats, +feathers and frocks, the family were present, even Aunt Ann, who +now but seldom left the comer of her brother Timothy's green +drawing-room, where, under the aegis of a plume of dyed pampas +grass in a light blue vase, she sat all day reading and knitting, +surrounded by the effigies of three generations of Forsytes. +Even Aunt Ann was there; her inflexible back, and the dignity of +her calm old face personifying the rigid possessiveness of the +family idea. + +When a Forsyte was engaged, married, or born, the Forsytes were +present; when a Forsyte died--but no Forsyte had as yet died; +they did not die; death being contrary to their principles, they +took precautions against it, the instinctive precautions of +highly vitalized persons who resent encroachments on their +property. + +About the Forsytes mingling that day with the crowd of other +guests, there was a more than ordinarily groomed look, an alert, +inquisitive assurance, a brilliant respectability, as though they +were attired in defiance of something. The habitual sniff on the +face of Soames Forsyte had spread through their ranks; they were +on their guard. + +The subconscious offensiveness of their attitude has constituted +old Jolyon's 'home' the psychological moment of the family +history, made it the prelude of their drama. + +The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but +as a family; this resentment expressed itself in an added +perfection of raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an +exaggeration of family importance, and--the sniff. Danger--so +indispensable in bringing out the fundamental quality of any +society, group, or individual--was what the Forsytes scented; the +premonition of danger put a burnish on their armour. For the +first time, as a family, they appeared to have an instinct of +being in contact, with some strange and unsafe thing. + +Over against the piano a man of bulk and stature was wearing two +waistcoats on his wide chest, two waistcoats and a ruby pin, +instead of the single satin waistcoat and diamond pin of, more +usual occasions, and his shaven, square, old face, the colour of +pale leather, with pale eyes, had its most dignified look, above +his satin stock. This was Swithin Forsyte. Close to the window, +where he could get more than his fair share of fresh air, the +other twin, James--the fat and the lean of it, old Jolyon called +these brothers--like the bulky Swithin, over six feet in height, +but very lean, as though destined from his birth to strike a +balance and maintain an average, brooded over the scene with his +permanent stoop; his grey eyes had an air of fixed absorption in +some secret worry, broken at intervals by a rapid, shifting +scrutiny of surrounding facts; his cheeks, thinned by two +parallel folds, and a long, clean-shaven upper lip, were framed +within Dundreary whiskers. In his hands he turned and turned a +piece of china. Not far off, listening to a lady in brown, his +only son Soames, pale and well-shaved, dark-haired, rather bald, +had poked his chin up sideways, carrying his nose with that +aforesaid appearance of 'sniff,' as though despising an egg which +he knew he could not digest. Behind him his cousin, the tall +George, son of the fifth Forsyte, Roger, had a Quilpish look on +his fleshy face, pondering one of his sardonic jests. Something +inherent to the occasion had affected them all. + +Seated in a row close to one another were three ladies--Aunts +Ann, Hester (the two Forsyte maids), and Juley (short for Julia), +who not in first youth had so far forgotten herself as to marry +Septimus Small, a man of poor constitution. She had survived him +for many years. With her elder and younger sister she lived now +in the house of Timothy, her sixth and youngest brother, on the +Bayswater Road. Each of these ladies held fans in their hands, +and each with some touch of Colour, some emphatic feather or +brooch, testified to the solemnity of the opportunity. + +In the centre of the room, under the chandelier, as became a +host, stood the head of the family, old Jolyon himself. Eighty +years of age, with his fine, white hair, his dome-like forehead, +his little, dark grey eyes, and an immense white moustache, which +drooped and spread below the level of his strong jaw, he had a +patriarchal look, and in spite of lean cheeks and hollows at his +temples, seemed master of perennial youth. He held him self +extremely upright, and his shrewd, steady eyes had lost none of +their clear shining. Thus he gave an impression of superiority +to the doubts and dislikes of smaller men. Having had his own +way for innumerable years, he had earned a prescriptive right to +it. It would never have occurred to old Jolyon that it was +necessary to wear a look of doubt or of defiance. + +Between him and the four other brothers who were present, James, +Swithin, Nicholas, and Roger, there was much difference, much +similarity. In turn, each of these four brothers was very +different from the other, yet they, too, were alike. + +Through the varying features and expression of those five faces +could be marked a certain steadfastness of chin, underlying +surface distinctions, marking a racial stamp, too prehistoric to +trace, too remote and permanent to discuss--the very hall-mark +and guarantee of the family for tunes. + +Among the younger generation, in the tall, bull-like George, in +pallid strenuous Archibald, in young Nicholas with his sweet and +tentative obstinacy, in the grave and foppishly determined +Eustace, there was this same stamp--less meaningful perhaps, but +unmistakable--a sign of something ineradicable in the family +soul. At one time or another during the afternoon, all these +faces, so dissimilar and so alike, had worn an expression of +distrust, the object of which was undoubtedly the man whose +acquaintance they were thus assembled to make. Philip Bosinney +was known to be a young man without fortune, but Forsyte girls +had become engaged to such before, and had actually married them. +It was not altogether for this reason, therefore, that the minds +of the Forsytes misgave them. They could not have explained the +origin of a misgiving obscured by the mist of family gossip. A +story was undoubtedly told that he had paid his duty call to +Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester, in a soft grey hat--a soft grey +hat, not even a new one--a dusty thing with a shapeless crown. +"So, extraordinary, my dear--so odd," Aunt Hester, passing +through the little, dark hall (she was rather short-sighted), had +tried to 'shoo' it off a chair, taking it for a strange, +disreputable cat--Tommy had such disgraceful friends! She was +disturbed when it did not move. Like an artist for ever seeking +to discover the significant trifle which embodies the whole +character of a scene, or place, or person, so those unconscious +artists--the Forsytes had fastened by intuition on this hat; it +was their significant trifle, the detail in which was embedded +the meaning of the whole matter; for each had asked himself: +"Come, now, should I have paid that visit in that hat?" and each +had answered "No!" and some, with more imagination than others, +had added: "It would never have come into my head!" + +George, on hearing the story, grinned. The hat had obviously +been worn as a practical joke! He himself was a connoisseur of +such. "Very haughty!" he said, "the wild Buccaneer." + +And this mot, the 'Buccaneer,' was bandied from mouth to mouth, +till it became the favourite mode of alluding to Bosinney. + +Her aunts reproached June afterwards about the hat. + +"We don't think you ought to let him, dear!" they had said. + +June had answered in her imperious brisk way, like the little +embodiment of will she was: "Oh! what does it matter? Phil +never knows what he's got on!" + +No one had credited an answer so outrageous. A man not to know +what he had on? No, no! What indeed was this young man, who, in +becoming engaged to June, old Jolyon's acknowledged heiress, had +done so well for himself? He was an architect, not in itself a +sufficient reason for wearing such a hat. None of the Forsytes +happened to be architects, but one of them knew two architects +who would never have worn such a hat upon a call of ceremony in +the London season. + +Dangerous--ah, dangerous! June, of course, had not seen this, +but, though not yet nineteen, she was notorious. Had she not +said to Mrs. Soames--who was always so beautifully dressed--that +feathers were vulgar? Mrs. Soames had actually given up wearing +feathers, so dreadfully downright was dear June! + +These misgivings, this disapproval, and perfectly genuine +distrust, did not prevent the Forsytes from gathering to old +Jolyon's invitation. An 'At Home' at Stanhope Gate was a great +rarity; none had been held for twelve years, not indeed, since +old Mrs. Jolyon had died. + +Never had there been so full an assembly, for, mysteriously +united in spite of all their differences, they had taken arms +against a common peril. Like cattle when a dog comes into the +field, they stood head to head and shoulder to shoulder, prepared +to run upon and trample the invader to death. They had come, +too, no doubt, to get some notion of what sort of presents they +would ultimately be expected to give; for though the question of +wedding gifts was usually graduated in this way: 'What are you +givin? Nicholas is givin' spoons!'--so very much depended on the +bridegroom. If he were sleek, well-brushed, prosperous-looking, +it was more necessary to give him nice things; he would expect +them. In the end each gave exactly what was right and proper, by +a species of family adjustment arrived at as prices are arrived +at on the Stock Exchange--the exact niceties being regulated at +Timothy's commodious, red-brick residence in Bayswater, +overlooking the Park, where dwelt Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester. + +The uneasiness of the Forsyte family has been justified by the +simple mention of the hat. How impossible and wrong would it +have been for any family, with the regard for appearances which +should ever characterize, the great upper middle-class, to feel +otherwise than uneasy! + +The author of the uneasiness stood talking to June by the further +door; his curly hair had a rumpled appearance, as though he found +what was going on around him unusual. He had an air, too, of +having a joke all to himself. George, speaking aside to his +brother, Eustace, said: + +"Looks as if he might make a bolt of it--the dashing Buccaneer!" + +This 'very singular-looking man,' as Mrs. Small afterwards called +him, was of medium height and strong build, with a pale, brown +face, a dust-coloured moustache, very prominent cheek-bones, and +hollow checks. His forehead sloped back towards the crown of his +head, and bulged out in bumps over the eyes, like foreheads seen +in the Lion-house at the Zoo. He had sherry-coloured eyes, +disconcertingly inattentive at times. Old Jolyon's coachman, +after driving June and Bosinney to the theatre, had remarked to +the butler: + +"I dunno what to make of 'im. Looks to me for all the world like +an 'alf-tame leopard." And every now and then a Forsyte would +come up, sidle round, and take a look at him. + +June stood in front, fending off this idle curiosity--a little +bit of a thing, as somebody once said, 'all hair and spirit,' +with fearless blue eyes, a firm jaw, and a bright colour, whose +face and body seemed too slender for her crown of red-gold hair. + +A tall woman, with a beautiful figure, which some member of the +family had once compared to a heathen goddess, stood looking at +these two with a shadowy smile. + +Her hands, gloved in French grey, were crossed one over the +other, her grave, charming face held to one side, and the eyes of +all men near were fastened on it. Her figure swayed, so balanced +that the very air seemed to set it moving. There was warmth, but +little colour, in her cheeks; her large, dark eyes were soft. + +But it was at her lips--asking a question, giving an answer, with +that shadowy smile--that men looked; they were sensitive lips, +sensuous and sweet, and through them seemed to come warmth and +perfume like the warmth and perfume of a flower. + +The engaged couple thus scrutinized were unconscious of this +passive goddess. It was Bosinney who first noticed her, and +asked her name. + +June took her lover up to the woman with the beautiful figure. + +"Irene is my greatest chum," she said: "Please be good friends, +you two!" + +At the little lady's command they all three smiled; and while +they were smiling, Soames Forsyte, silently appearing from behind +the woman with the beautiful figure, who was his wife, said: + +"Ah! introduce me too!" + +He was seldom, indeed, far from Irene's side at public functions, +and even when separated by, the exigencies of social intercourse, +could be seen following her about with his eyes, in which were +strange expressions of watchfulness and longing. + +At the window his father, James, was still scrutinizing the marks +on the piece of china.. + +"I wonder at Jolyon's allowing this engagement," he said to Aunt +Ann. "They tell me there's no chance of their getting married +for years. This young Bosinney" (he made the word a dactyl in +opposition to general usage of a short o) "has got nothing. When +Winifred married Dartie, I made him bring every penny into +settlement--lucky thing, too--they'd ha' had nothing by this +time!" + +Aunt Ann looked up from her velvet chair. Grey curls banded her +forehead, curls that, unchanged for decades, had extinguished in +the family all sense of time. She made no reply, for she rarely +spoke, husbanding her aged voice; but to James, uneasy of +conscience, her look was as good as an answer. + +"Well," he said, "I couldn't help Irene's having no money. +Soames was in such a hurry; he got quite thin dancing attendance +on her." + +Putting the bowl pettishly down on the piano, he let his eyes +wander to the group by the door. + +"It's my opinion," he said unexpectedly, "that it's just as well +as it is." + +Aunt Ann did not ask him to explain this strange utterance. She +knew what he was thinking. If Irene had no money she would not +be so foolish as to do anything wrong; for they said--they said-- +she had been asking for a separate room; but, of course, Soames +had not.... + +James interrupted her reverie: + +"But where," he asked, "was Timothy? Hadn't he come with them?" + +Through Aunt Ann's compressed lips a tender smile forced its way: + +"No, he didn't think it wise, with so much of this diphtheria +about; and he so liable to take things." + +James answered: + +"Well, be takes good care of himself. I can't afford to take the +care of myself that he does." + +Nor was it easy to say which, of admiration, envy, or contempt, +was dominant in that remark. + +Timothy, indeed, was seldom seen. The baby of the family, a +publisher by profession, he had some years before, when business +was at full tide, scented out the stagnation which, indeed, had +not yet come, but which ultimately, as all agreed, was bound to +set in, and, selling his share in a firm engaged mainly in the +production of religious books, had invested the quite conspicuous +proceeds in three per cent. consols. By this act he had at once +assumed an isolated position, no other Forsyte being content with +less than four per cent. for his money; and this isolation had +slowly and surely undermined a spirit perhaps better than +commonly endowed with caution. He had become almost a myth--a +kind of incarnation of security haunting the background of the +Forsyte universe. He had never committed the imprudence of +marrying, or encumbering himself in any way with children. + +James resumed, tapping the piece of china: + +"This isn't real old Worcester. I s'pose Jolyon's told you +something about the young man. From all I can learn, he's got no +business, no income, and no connection worth speaking of; but +then, I know nothing--nobody tells me anything." + +Aunt Ann shook her head. Over her square-chinned, aquiline old +face a trembling passed; the spidery fingers of her hands pressed +against each other and interlaced, as though she were subtly +recharging her will. + +The eldest by some years of all the Forsytes, she held a peculiar +position amongst them. Opportunists and egotists one and all-- +though not, indeed, more so than their neighbours--they quailed +before her incorruptible figure, and, when opportunities were too +strong, what could they do but avoid her! + +Twisting his long, thin legs, James went on: + +"Jolyon, he will have his own way. He's got no children"--and +stopped, recollecting the continued existence of old Jolyon's +son, young Jolyon, June's father, who had made such a mess of it, +and done for himself by deserting his wife and child and running +away with that foreign governess. "Well," he resumed hastily, +"if he likes to do these things, I s'pose he can afford to. Now, +what's he going to give her? I s'pose he'll give her a thousand +a year; he's got nobody else to leave his money to." + +He stretched out his hand to meet that of a dapper, clean-shaven +man, with hardly a hair on his head, a long, broken nose, full +lips, and cold grey eyes under rectangular brows. + +"Well, Nick," he muttered, "how are you?" + +Nicholas Forsyte, with his bird-like rapidity and the look of a +preternaturally sage schoolboy (he had made a large fortune, +quite legitimately, out of the companies of which he was a +director), placed within that cold palm the tips of his still +colder fingers and hastily withdrew them. + +"I'm bad," he said, pouting--"been bad all the week; don't sleep +at night. The doctor can't tell why. He's a clever fellow, or I +shouldn't have him, but I get nothing out of him but bills." + +"Doctors!" said James, coming down sharp on his words: "I've had +all the doctors in London for one or another of us. There's no +satisfaction to be got out of them; they'll tell you anything. +There's Swithin, now. What good have they done him? There he +is; he's bigger than ever; he's enormous; they can't get his +weight down. Look at him!" + +Swithin Forsyte, tall, square, and broad, with a chest like a +pouter pigeon's in its plumage of bright waistcoats, came +strutting towards them. + +"Er--how are you?" he said in his dandified way, aspirating the +'h' strongly (this difficult letter was almost absolutely safe in +his keeping)--"how are you?" + +Each brother wore an air of aggravation as he looked at the other +two, knowing by experience that they would try to eclipse his +ailments. + +"We were just saying," said James, "that you don't get any +thinner." + +Swithin protruded his pale round eyes with the effort of hearing. + +"Thinner? I'm in good case," he said, leaning a little forward, +"not one of your thread-papers like you!" + +But, afraid of losing the expansion of his chest, he leaned back +again into a state of immobility, for he prized nothing so highly +as a distinguished appearance. + +Aunt Ann turned her old eyes from one to the other. Indulgent +and severe was her look. In turn the three brothers looked at +Ann. She was getting shaky. Wonderful woman! Eighty-six if a +day; might live another ten years, and had never been strong. +Swithin and James, the twins, were only seventy-five, Nicholas a +mere baby of seventy or so. All were strong, and the inference +was comforting. Of all forms of property their respective healths +naturally concerned them most. + +"I'm very well in myself," proceeded James, "but my nerves are +out of order. The least thing worries me to death. I shall have +to go to Bath." + +"Bath!" said Nicholas. "I've tried Harrogate. That's no good. +What I want is sea air. There's nothing like Yarmouth. Now, +when I go there I sleep...." + +"My liver's very bad," interrupted Swithin slowly. "Dreadful +pain here;" and he placed his hand on his right side. + +"Want of exercise," muttered James, his eyes on the china. He +quickly added: "I get a pain there, too." + +Swithin reddened, a resemblance to a turkey-cock coming upon his +old face. + +"Exercise!" he said. "I take plenty: I never use the lift at the +Club." + +"I didn't know," James hurried out. "I know nothing about +anybody; nobody tells me anything...." + +Swithin fixed him with a stare: + +"What do you do for a pain there?" + +James brightened. + +"I take a compound...." + +"How are you, uncle?" + +June stood before him, her resolute small face raised from her +little height to his great height, and her hand outheld. + +The brightness faded from James's visage. + +"How are you?" he said, brooding over her. "So you're going to +Wales to-morrow to visit your young man's aunts? You'll have a +lot of rain there. This isn't real old Worcester." He tapped the +bowl. "Now, that set I gave your mother when she married was the +genuine thing." + +June shook hands one by one with her three great-uncles, and +turned to Aunt Ann. A very sweet look had come into the old +lady's face, she kissed the girl's check with trembling fervour. + +"Well, my dear," she said, "and so you're going for, a whole +month!" + +The girl passed on, and Aunt Ann looked after her slim little +figure. The old lady's round, steel grey eyes, over which a film +like a bird's was beginning to come, followed her wistfully +amongst the bustling crowd, for people were beginning to +say good-bye; and her finger-tips, pressing and pressing against +each other, were busy again with the recharging of her will +against that inevitable ultimate departure of her own. + +'Yes,' she thought, 'everybody's been most kind; quite a lot of +people come to congratulate her. She ought to be very happy.' +Amongst the throng of people by the door, the well-dressed throng +drawn from the families of lawyers and doctors, from the Stock +Exchange, and all the innumerable avocations of the upper-middle +class--there were only some twenty percent of Forsytes; but to +Aunt Ann they seemed all Forsytes--and certainly there was not +much difference--she saw only her own flesh and blood. It was +her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never perhaps +known any other. All their little secrets, illnesses, +engagements, and marriages, how they were getting on, and whether +they were making money--all this was her property, her delight, +her life; beyond this only a vague, shadowy mist of--facts and +persons of no real significance. This it was that she would have +to lay down when it came to her turn to die; this which gave to +her that importance, that secret self-importance, without which +none of us can bear to live; and to this she clung wistfully, +with a greed that grew each day! If life were slipping away from +her, this she would retain to the end. + +She thought of June's father, young Jolyon, who had run away with +that foreign girl. And what a sad blow to his father and to them +all. Such a promising young fellow! A sad blow, though there +had been no public scandal, most fortunately, Jo's wife seeking +for no divorce! A long time ago! And when June's mother died, +six years ago, Jo had married that woman, and they had two +children now, so she had heard. Still, he had forfeited his +right to be there, had cheated her of the complete fulfilment of +her family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of seeing +and kissing him of whom she had been so proud, such a promising +young fellow! The thought rankled with the bitterness of a +long-inflicted injury in her tenacious old heart. A little water +stood in her eyes. With a handkerchief of the finest lawn she +wiped them stealthily. + +"Well, Aunt Ann?" said a voice behind. + +Soames Forsyte, flat-shouldered, clean-shaven, flat-cheeked, +flat-waisted, yet with something round and secret about his whole +appearance, looked downwards and aslant at Aunt Ann, as though +trying to see through the side of his own nose. + +"And what do you think of the engagement?" he asked. + +Aunt Ann's eyes rested on him proudly; of all the nephews since +young Jolyon's departure from the family nest, he was now her +favourite, for she recognised in him a sure trustee of the family +soul that must so soon slip beyond her keeping. + +"Very nice for the young man," she said; "and he's a good-looking +young fellow; but I doubt if he's quite the right lover for dear +June." + +Soames touched the edge of a gold-lacquered lustre. + +"She'll tame him," he said, stealthily wetting his finger and +rubbing it on the knobby bulbs. "That's genuine old lacquer; you +can't get it nowadays. It'd do well in a sale at Jobson's." He +spoke with relish, as though he felt that he was cheering up his +old aunt. It was seldom he was so confidential. "I wouldn't +mind having it myself," he added; "you can always get your price +for old lacquer." + +"You're so clever with all those things," said Aunt Ann. "And +how is dear Irene?" + +Soames's smile died. + +"Pretty well," he said. "Complains she can't sleep; she sleeps a +great deal better than I do," and he looked at his wife, who was +talking to Bosinney by the door. + +Aunt Ann sighed. + +"Perhaps," she said, "it will be just as well for her not to see +so much of June. She's such a decided character, dear June!" + +Soames flushed; his flushes passed rapidly over his flat cheeks +and centered between his eyes, where they remained, the stamp of +disturbing thoughts. + +"I don't know what she sees in that little flibbertigibbet," he +burst out, but noticing that they were no longer alone, he turned +and again began examining the lustre. + +"They tell me Jolyon's bought another house," said his father's +voice close by; "he must have a lot of money--he must have more +money than he knows what to do with! Montpellier Square, they +say; close to Soames! They never told me, Irene never tells me +anything!" + +"Capital position, not two minutes from me," said the voice of +Swithin, "and from my rooms I can drive to the Club in eight." + +The position of their houses was of vital importance to the +Forsytes, nor was this remarkable, since the whole spirit of +their success was embodied therein. + +Their father, of farming stock, had come from Dorsetshire near +the beginning of the century. + +'Superior Dosset Forsyte, as he was called by his intimates, had +been a stonemason by trade, and risen to the position of a +master-builder. + +Towards the end of his life he moved to London, where, building +on until he died, he was buried at Highgate. He left over thirty +thousand pounds between his ten children. Old Jolyon alluded to +him, if at all, as 'A hard, thick sort of man; not much +refinement about him.' The second generation of Forsytes felt +indeed that, he was not greatly to their credit. The only +aristocratic trait they could find in his character was a habit +of drinking Madeira. + +Aunt Hester, an authority on family history, described him thus: +"I don't recollect that he ever did anything; at least, not in my +time. He was er--an owner of houses, my dear. His hair about +your Uncle Swithin's colour; rather a square build. Tall? No-- +not very tall" (he had been five feet, five, with a mottled +face); "a fresh-coloured man. I remember he used to drink +Madeira; but ask your Aunt Ann. What was his father? He--er-- +had to do with the land down in Dorsetshire, by the sea." + +James once went down to see for himself what sort of place this +was that they had come from. He found two old farms, with a cart +track rutted into the pink earth, leading down to a mill by the +beach; a little grey church with a buttressed outer wall, and a +smaller and greyer chapel. The stream which worked the mill came +bubbling down in a dozen rivulets, and pigs were hunting round +that estuary. A haze hovered over the prospect. Down this +hollow, with their feet deep in the mud and their faces towards +the sea, it appeared that the primeval Forsytes had been content +to walk Sunday after Sunday for hundreds of years. + +Whether or no James had cherished hopes of an inheritance, or of +something rather distinguished to be found down there, he came +back to town in a poor way, and went about with a pathetic +attempt at making the best of a bad job. + +"There's very little to be had out of that," he said; "regular +country little place, old as the hills...." + +Its age was felt to be a comfort. Old Jolyon, in whom a +desperate honesty welled up at times, would allude to his +ancestors as: "Yeomen--I suppose very small beer." Yet he would +repeat the word 'yeomen' as if it afforded him consolation. + +They had all done so well for themselves, these Forsytes, that +they were all what is called 'of a certain position.' They had +shares in all sorts of things, not as yet--with the exception of +Timothy--in consols, for they had no dread in life like that of +3 per cent. for their money. They collected pictures, too, and +were supporters of such charitable institutions as might be +beneficial to their sick domestics. From their father, the +builder, they inherited a talent for bricks and mortar. +Originally, perhaps, members of some primitive sect, they were +now in the natural course of things members of the Church of +England, and caused their wives and children to attend with some +regularity the more fashionable churches of the Metropolis. To +have doubted their Christianity would have caused them both pain +and surprise. Some of them paid for pews, thus expressing in the +most practical form their sympathy with the teachings of Christ. + +Their residences, placed at stated intervals round the park, +watched like sentinels, lest the fair heart of this London, where +their desires were fixed, should slip from their clutches, and +leave them lower in their own estimations. + +There was old Jolyon in Stanhope Place; the Jameses in Park Lane; +Swithin in the lonely glory of orange and blue chambers in Hyde +Park Mansions--he had never married, not he--the Soamses in their +nest off Knightsbridge; the Rogers in Prince's Gardens (Roger was +that remarkable Forsyte who had conceived and carried out the +notion of bringing up his four sons to a new profession. + +"Collect house property, nothing like it," he would say; "I never +did anything else"). + +The Haymans again--Mrs. Hayman was the one married Forsyte +sister--in a house high up on Campden Hill, shaped like a +giraffe, and so tall that it gave the observer a crick in the +neck; the Nicholases in Ladbroke Grove, a spacious abode and a +great bargain; and last, but not least, Timothy's on the +Bayswater Road, where Ann, and Juley, and Hester, lived under his +protection. + +But all this time James was musing, and now he inquired of his +host and brother what he had given for that house in Montpellier +Square. He himself had had his eye on a house there for the last +two years, but they wanted such a price. + +Old Jolyon recounted the details of his purchase. + +"Twenty-two years to run?" repeated James; "The very house I was +after--you've given too much for it!" + +Old Jolyon frowned. + +"It's not that I want it," said James hastily; it wouldn't suit +my purpose at that price. Soames knows the house, well--he'll +tell you it's too dear--his opinion's worth having." + +"I don't," said old Jolyon, "care a fig for his opinion." + +"Well," murmured James, "you will have your own way--it's a good +opinion. Good-bye! We're going to drive down to Hurlingham. +They tell me June's going to Wales. You'll be lonely tomorrow. +What'll you do with yourself? You'd better come and dine with +us!" + +Old Jolyon refused. He went down to the front door and saw them +into their barouche, and twinkled at them, having already +forgotten his spleen--Mrs. James facing the horses, tall and +majestic with auburn hair; on her left, Irene--the two husbands, +father and son, sitting forward, as though they expected +something, opposite their wives. Bobbing and bounding upon the +spring cushions, silent, swaying to each motion of their chariot, +old Jolyon watched them drive away under the sunlight. + +During the drive the silence was broken by Mrs. James. + +"Did you ever see such a collection of rumty-too people?" + +Soames, glancing at her beneath his eyelids, nodded, and he saw +Irene steal at him one of her unfathomable looks. It is likely +enough that each branch of the Forsyte family made that remark as +they drove away from old Jolyon's 'At Home!' + +Amongst the last of the departing guests the fourth and fifth +brothers, Nicholas and Roger, walked away together, directing +their steps alongside Hyde Park towards the Praed Street Station +of the Underground. Like all other Forsytes of a certain age +they kept carriages of their own, and never took cabs if by any +means they could avoid it. + +The day was bright, the trees of the Park in the full beauty of +mid-June foliage; the brothers did not seem to notice phenomena, +which contributed, nevertheless, to the jauntiness of promenade +and conversation. + +"Yes," said Roger, "she's a good-lookin' woman, that wife of +Soames's. I'm told they don't get on." + +This brother had a high forehead, and the freshest colour of any +of the Forsytes; his light grey eyes measured the street frontage +of the houses by the way, and now and then he would level his, +umbrella and take a 'lunar,' as he expressed it, of the varying +heights. + +"She'd no money," replied Nicholas. + +He himself had married a good deal of money, of which, it being +then the golden age before the Married Women's Property Act, he +had mercifully been enabled to make a successful use. + +"What was her father?" + +"Heron was his name, a Professor, so they tell me." + +Roger shook his head. + +"There's no money in that," he said. + +"They say her mother's father was cement." + +Roger's face brightened. + +"But he went bankrupt," went on Nicholas. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Roger, "Soames will have trouble with her; you +mark my words, he'll have trouble--she's got a foreign look." + +Nicholas licked his lips. + +"She's a pretty woman," and he waved aside a crossing-sweeper. + +"How did he get hold of her?" asked Roger presently. "She must +cost him a pretty penny in dress!" + +"Ann tells me," replied Nicholas," he was half-cracked about her. +She refused him five times. James, he's nervous about it, I can +see." + +"Ah!" said Roger again; "I'm sorry for James; he had trouble with +Dartie." His pleasant colour was heightened by exercise, he swung +his umbrella to the level of his eye more frequently than ever. +Nicholas's face also wore a pleasant look. + +"Too pale for me," he said, "but her figures capital!" + +Roger made no reply. + +"I call her distinguished-looking," he said at last--it was the +highest praise in the Forsyte vocabulary. "That young Bosinney +will never do any good for himself. They say at Burkitt's he's +one of these artistic chaps--got an idea of improving English +architecture; there's no money in that! I should like to hear +what Timothy would say to it." + +They entered the station. + +"What class are you going? I go second." + +"No second for me," said Nicholas;--"you never know what you may +catch." + +He took a first-class ticket to Notting Hill Gate; Roger a second +to South Kensington. The train coming in a minute later, the two +brothers parted and entered their respective compartments. Each +felt aggrieved that the other had not modified his habits to +secure his society a little longer; but as Roger voiced it in his +thoughts: +'Always a stubborn beggar, Nick!' + +And as Nicholas expressed it to himself: + +'Cantankerous chap Roger--always was!' + +There was little sentimentality about the Forsytes. In that +great London, which they had conquered and become merged in, what +time had they to be sentimental? + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OLD JOLYON GOES TO THE OPERA + + +At five o'clock the following day old Jolyon sat alone, a cigar +between his lips, and on a table by his side a cup of tea. He +was tired, and before he had finished his cigar he fell asleep. +A fly settled on his hair, his breathing sounded heavy in the +drowsy silence, his upper lip under the white moustache puffed in +and out. From between the fingers of his veined and wrinkled +hand the 'cigar, dropping on the empty hearth, burned itself out. + +The gloomy little, study, with windows of stained glass to +exclude the view, was full of dark green velvet and +heavily-carved mahogany--a suite of which old Jolyon was wont to +say: 'Shouldn't wonder if it made a big price some day!' + +It was pleasant to think that in the after life he could get more +for things than he had given. + +In the rich brown atmosphere peculiar to back rooms in the +mansion of a Forsyte, the Rembrandtesque effect of his great +head, with its white hair, against the cushion of his high-backed +seat, was spoiled by the moustache, which imparted a somewhat +military look to his face. An old clock that had been with him +since before his marriage forty years ago kept with its ticking a +jealous record of the seconds slipping away forever from its old +master. + +He had never cared for this room, hardly going into it from one +year's end to another, except to take cigars from the Japanese +cabinet in the corner, and the room now had its revenge. + +His temples, curving like thatches over the hollows beneath, his +cheek-bones and chin, all were sharpened in his sleep, and there +had come upon his face the confession that he was an old man. + +He woke. June had gone! James had said he would be lonely. +James had always been a poor thing. He recollected with +satisfaction that he had bought that house over James's head. + +Serve him right for sticking at the price; the only thing the +fellow thought of was money. Had he given too much, though? It +wanted a lot of doing to--He dared say he would want all his +money before he had done with this affair of June's. He ought +never to have allowed the engagement. She had met this Bosinney +At the house of Baynes, Baynes and Bildeboy, the architects. He +believed that Baynes, whom he knew--a bit of an old woman--was +the young man's uncle by marriage. After that she'd been always +running after him; and when she took a thing into her head there +was no stopping her. She was continually taking up with 'lame +ducks' of one sort or another. This fellow had no money, but she +must needs become engaged to him--a harumscarum, unpractical +chap, who would get himself into no end of difficulties. + +She had come to him one day in her slap-dash way and told him; +and, as if it were any consolation, she had added: + +"He's so splendid; he's often lived on cocoa for a week!" + +"And he wants you to live on cocoa too?" + +"Oh no; he is getting into the swim now." + +Old Jolyon had taken his cigar from under his white moustaches, +stained by coffee at the edge, and looked at her, that little +slip of a thing who had got such a grip of his heart. He knew +more about 'swims' than his granddaughter. But she, having +clasped her hands on his knees, rubbed her chin against him, +making a sound like a purring cat. And, knocking the ash off his +cigar, he had exploded in nervous desperation: + +"You're all alike: you won't be satisfied till you've got what +you want. If you must come to grief, you must; I wash my hands +of it." + +So, he had washed his hands of it, making the condition that they +should not marry until Bosinney had at least four hundred a year. + +"I shan't be able to give you very much," he had said, a formula +to which June was not unaccustomed." Perhaps this What's-his- +name will provide the cocoa." + +He had hardly seen anything of her since it began. A bad +business! He had no notion of giving her a lot of money to +enable a fellow he knew nothing about to live on in idleness. +He had seen that sort of thing before; no good ever came of it. +Worst of all, he had no hope of shaking her resolution; she was +as obstinate as a mule, always had been from a child. He didn't +see where it was to end. They must cut their coat according to +their cloth. He would not give way till he saw young Bosinney +with an income of his own. That June would have trouble with the +fellow--was as plain as a pikestaff; he had no more idea of money +than a cow. As to this rushing down to Wales to visit the young +man's aunts, he fully expected they were old cats. + +And, motionless, old Jolyon stared at the wall; but for his open +eyes, he might have been asleep.... The idea of supposing that +young cub Soames could give him advice! He had always been a +cub, with his nose in the air! He would be setting up as a man +of property next, with a place in the country! A man of +property! H'mph! Like his father, he was always nosing out +bargains, a cold-blooded young beggar! + +He rose, and, going to the cabinet, began methodically stocking +his, cigar-case from a bundle fresh in. They were not bad at the +price, but you couldn't get a good cigar, nowadays, nothing to +hold a candle to those old Superfinos of Hanson and Bridger's. +That was a cigar! + +The thought, like some stealing perfume, carried him back to +those wonderful nights at Richmond when after dinner he sat +smoking on the terrace of the Crown and Sceptre with Nicholas +Treffry and Traquair and Jack Herring and Anthony Thornworthy. +How good his cigars were then! Poor old Nick!--dead, and Jack +Herringdead, and Traquair--dead of that wife of his, and +Thornworthy--awfully shaky (no wonder, with his appetite). + +Of all the company of those days he himself alone seemed left, +except Swithin, of course, and he so outrageously big there was +no doing anything with him. + +Difficult to believe it was so long ago; he felt young still! Of +all his thoughts, as he stood there counting his cigars, this was +the most poignant, the most bitter. With his white head and his +loneliness he had remained young and green at heart. And those +Sunday afternoons on Hampstead Heath, when young Jolyon and he +went for a stretch along the Spaniard's Road to Highgate, to +Child's Hill, and back over the Heath again to dine at Jack +Straw's Castle--how delicious his cigars were then! And such +weather! There was no weather now. + +When June was a toddler of five, and every other Sunday he took +her to the Zoo, away from the society of those two good women, +her mother and her grandmother, and at the top of the bear den +baited his umbrella with buns for her favourite bears, how sweet +his cigars were then! + +Cigars! He had not even succeeded in out-living his palate--the +famous palate that in the fifties men swore by, and speaking of +him, said: "Forsyte=s the best palate in London!" The palate that +in a sense had made his fortune--the fortune of the celebrated +tea men, Forsyte and Treffry, whose tea, like no other man's tea, +had a romantic aroma, the charm of a quite singular genuineness. +About the house of Forsyte and Treffry in the City had clung an +air of enterprise and mystery, of special dealings in special +ships, at special ports, with special Orientals. + +He had worked at that business! Men did work in those days! +these young pups hardly knew the meaning of the word. He had +gone into every detail, known everything that went on, sometimes +sat up all night over it. And he had always chosen his agents +himself, prided himself on it. His eye for men, he used to say, +had been the secret of his success, and the exercise of this +masterful power of selection had been the only part of it all +that he had really liked. Not a career for a man of his ability. +Even now, when the business had been turned into a Limited +Liability Company, and was declining (he had got out of his +shares long ago), he felt a sharp chagrin in thinking of that +time. How much better he might have done! He would have +succeeded splendidly at the Bar! He had even thought of standing +for Parliament. How often had not Nicholas Treffry said to him: + +"You could do anything, Jo, if you weren't so d-damned careful of +yourself!" Dear old Nick! Such a good fellow, but a racketty +chap! The notorious Treffry! He had never taken any care of +himself. So he was dead. Old Jolyon counted his cigars with a +steady hand, and it came into his mind to wonder if perhaps he +had been too careful of himself. + +He put the cigar-case in the breast of his coat, buttoned it in, +and walked up the long flights to his bedroom, leaning on one +foot and the other, and helping himself by the bannister. The +house was too big. After June was married, if she ever did marry +this fellow, as he supposed she would, he would let it and go +into rooms. What was the use of keeping half a dozen servants +eating their heads off? + +The butler came to the ring of his bell--a large man with a +beard, a soft tread, and a peculiar capacity for silence. Old +Jolyon told him to put his dress clothes out; he was going to +dine at the Club. + +How long had the carriage been back from taking Miss June to the +station? Since two? Then let him come round at half-past six! + +The Club which old Jolyon entered on the stroke of seven was one +of those political institutions of the upper middle class which +have seen better days. In spite of being talked about, perhaps +in consequence of being talked about, it betrayed a disappointing +vitality. People had grown tired of saying that the 'Disunion' +was on its last legs. Old Jolyon would say it, too, yet +disregarded the fact in a manner truly irritating to +well-constituted Clubmen. + +"Why do you keep your name on?" Swithin often asked him with +profound vexation. "Why don't you join the 'Polyglot? You can't +get a wine like our Heidsieck under twenty shillin' a bottle +anywhere in London;" and, dropping his voice, he added: "There's +only five hundred dozen left. I drink it every night of my +life." + +"I'll think of it," old Jolyon would answer; but when he did think +of it there was always the question of fifty guineas entrance +fee, and it would take him four or five years to get in. He +continued to think of it. + +He was too old to be a Liberal, had long ceased to believe in the +political doctrines of his Club, had even been known to allude to +them as 'wretched stuff,' and it afforded him pleasure to +continue a member in the teeth of principles so opposed to his +own. He had always had a contempt for the place, having joined +it many years ago when they refused to have him at the 'Hotch +Potch' owing to his being 'in trade.' As if he were not as good +as any of them! He naturally despised the Club that did take +him. The members were a poor lot, many of them in the City-- +stockbrokers, solicitors, auctioneers--what not! Like most men +of strong character but not too much originality, old Jolyon set +small store by the class to which he belonged. Faithfully he +followed their customs, social and otherwise, and secretly he +thought them 'a common lot.' + +Years and philosophy, of which he had his share, had dimmed the +recollection of his defeat at the 'Hotch Potch'; and now in his +thoughts it was enshrined as the Queen of Clubs. He would have +been a member all these years himself, but, owing to the slipshod +way his proposer, Jack Herring, had gone to work, they had not +known what they were doing in keeping him out. Why! they had +taken his son Jo at once, and he believed the boy was still a +member; he had received a letter dated from there eight years +ago. + +He had not been near the 'Disunion' for months, and the house had +undergone the piebald decoration which people bestow on old +houses and old ships when anxious to sell them. + +'Beastly colour, the smoking-room!' he thought. 'The dining-room +is good!' + +Its gloomy chocolate, picked out with light green, took his +fancy. + +He ordered dinner, and sat down in the very corner, at the very +table perhaps I (things did not progress much at the 'Disunion,' +a Club of almost Radical principles) at which he and young Jolyon +used to sit twenty-five years ago, when he was taking the latter +to Drury Lane, during his holidays. + +The boy had--loved the theatre, and old Jolyon recalled how he +used to sit opposite, concealing his excitement under a careful +but transparent nonchalance. + +He ordered himself, too, the very dinner the boy had always +chosen-soup, whitebait, cutlets, and a tart. Ah! if he were +only opposite now! + +The two had not met for fourteen years. And not for the first +time during those fourteen years old Jolyon wondered whether he +had been a little to blame in the matter of his son. An +unfortunate love-affair with that precious flirt Danae Thorn- +worthy (now Danae Pellew), Anthony Thornworthy's daughter, had +thrown him on the rebound into the arms of June's mother. He +ought perhaps to have put a spoke in the wheel of their marriage; +they were too young; but after that experience of Jo's +susceptibility he had been only too anxious to see him married. +And in four years the crash had come! To have approved his son's +conduct in that crash was, of course, impossible; reason and +training--that combination of potent factors which stood for his +principles--told him of this impossibility, and his heart cried +out. The grim remorselessness of that business had no pity for +hearts. There was June, the atom with flaming hair, who had +climbed all over him, twined and twisted herself about him--about +his heart that was made to be the plaything and beloved resort of +tiny, helpless things. With characteristic insight he saw he +must part with one or with the other; no half-measures could +serve in such a situation. In that lay its tragedy. And the +tiny, helpless thing prevailed. He would not run with the hare +and hunt with the hounds, and so to his son he said good-bye. + +That good-bye had lasted until now. + +He had proposed to continue a reduced allowance to young Jolyon, +but this had been refused, and perhaps that refusal had hurt him +more than anything, for with it had gone the last outlet of his +penned-in affection; and there had come such tangible and solid +proof of rupture as only a transaction in property, a bestowal or +refusal of such, could supply. + +His dinner tasted flat. His pint of champagne was dry and bitter +stuff, not like the Veuve Clicquots of old days. + +Over his cup of coffee, he bethought him that he would go to the +opera. In the Times, therefore--he had a distrust of other +papers--he read the announcement for the evening. It was +'Fidelio.' + +Mercifully not one of those new-fangled German pantomimes by that +fellow Wagner. + +Putting on his ancient opera hat, which, with its brim flattened +by use, and huge capacity, looked like an emblem of greater days, +and, pulling out an old pair of very thin lavender kid gloves +smelling strongly of Russia leather, from habitual proximity to +the cigar-case in the pocket of his overcoat, he stepped into a +hansom. + +The cab rattled gaily along the streets, and old Jolyon was +struck by their unwonted animation. + +'The hotels must be doing a tremendous business,' he thought. A +few years ago there had been none of these big hotels. He made +a satisfactory reflection on some property he had in the +neighbourhood. It must be going up in value by leaps and bounds! +What traffic! + +But from that he began indulging in one of those strange +impersonal speculations, so uncharacteristic of a Forsyte, +wherein lay, in part, the secret of his supremacy amongst them. +What atoms men were, and what a lot of them! And what would +become of them all? + +He stumbled as he got out of the cab, gave the man his exact +fare, walked up to the ticket office to take his stall, and stood +there with his purse in his hand--he always carried his money in +a purse, never having approved of that habit of carrying it +loosely in the pockets, as so many young men did nowadays. The +official leaned out, like an old dog from a kennel. + +"Why," he said in a surprised voice, "it's Mr. Jolyon Forsyte! +So it is! Haven't seen you, sir, for years. Dear me! Times +aren't what they were. Why! you and your brother, and that +auctioneer--Mr. Traquair, and Mr. Nicholas Treffry--you used to +have six or seven stalls here regular every season. And how are +you, sir? We don't get younger!" + +The colour in old Jolyon's eyes deepened; he paid his guinea. +They had not forgotten him. He marched in, to the sounds of the +overture, like an old war-horse to battle. + +Folding his opera hat, he sat down, drew out his lavender gloves +in the old way, and took up his glasses for a long look round the +house. Dropping them at last on his folded hat, he fixed his +eyes on the curtain. More poignantly than ever he felt that it +was all over and done with him. Where were all the women, the +pretty women, the house used to be so full of? Where was that +old feeling in the heart as he waited for one of those great +singers? Where that sensation of the intoxication of life and +of his own power to enjoy it all? + +The greatest opera-goer of his day! There was no opera now! +That fellow Wagner had ruined everything; no melody left, nor any +voices to sing it. Ah! the wonderful singers! Gone! He sat +watching the old scenes acted, a numb feeling at his heart. + +From the curl of silver over his ear to the pose of his foot in +its elastic-sided patent boot, there was nothing clumsy or weak +about old Jolyon. He was as upright--very nearly--as in those +old times when he came every night; his sight was as good--almost +as good. But what a feeling of weariness and disillusion! + +He had been in the habit all his life of enjoying things, even +imperfect things--and there had been many imperfect things--he +had enjoyed them all with moderation, so as to keep himself +young. But now he was deserted by his power of enjoyment, by his +philosophy, and left with this dreadful feeling that it was all +done with. Not even the Prisoners' Chorus, nor Florian's Song, +had the power to dispel the gloom of his loneliness. + +If Jo, were only with him! The boy must be forty by now. He had +wasted fourteen years out of the life of his only son. And Jo +was no longer a social pariah. He was married. Old Jolyon had +been unable to refrain from marking his appreciation of the +action by enclosing his son a cheque for L500. The cheque had +been returned in a letter from the 'Hotch Potch,' couched in +these words. + + +'MY DEAREST FATHER, + +'Your generous gift was welcome as a sign that you might think +worse of me. I return it, but should you think fit to invest it +for the benefit of the little chap (we call him Jolly), who bears +our Christian and, by courtesy, our surname, I shall be very +glad. + +'I hope with all my heart that your health is as good as ever. + +'Your loving son, + + 'Jo.' + + +The letter was like the boy. He had always been an amiable chap. +Old Jolyon had sent this reply: + + +'MY DEAR JO, + +'The sum (L500) stands in my books for the benefit of your boy, +under the name of Jolyon Forsyte, and will be duly-credited with +interest at 5 per cent. I hope that you are doing well. My +health remains good at present. + +'With love, I am, +'Your affectionate Father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +And every, year on the 1st of January he had added a hundred and +the interest. The sum was mounting up--next New Year's Day it +would be fifteen hundred and odd pounds! And it is difficult to +say how much satisfaction he had got out of that yearly +transaction. But the correspondence had ended. + +In spite of his love for his son, in spite of an instinct, partly +constitutional, partly the result, as in thousands of his class, +of the continual handling and watching of affairs, prompting him +to judge conduct by results rather than by principle, there was +at the bottom of his heart a sort of uneasiness. His son ought, +under the circumstances, to have gone to the dogs; that law was +laid down in all the novels, sermons, and plays he had ever read, +heard, or witnessed. + +After receiving the cheque back there seemed to him to be +something wrong somewhere. Why had his son, not gone to--the +dogs? But, then, who could tell? + +He had heard, of course--in fact, he had made it his business +to find out--that Jo lived in St. John's Wood, that he had a +little house in Wistaria Avenue with a garden, and took his wife +about with, him into society--a queer sort of society, no doubt-- +and that they had two children--the little chap they called Jolly +(considering the circumstances the name struck him as cynical, +and old Jolyon both feared and disliked cynicism), and a girl +called Holly, born since the marriage. Who could tell what his +son's circumstances really were? He had capitalized the income +he had inherited from his mother's father and joined Lloyd's as +an underwriter; he painted pictures, too--water-colours. Old +Jolyon knew this, for he had surreptitiously bought them from +time to time, after chancing to see his son's name signed at the +bottom of a representation of the river Thames in a dealer's +window. He thought them bad, and did not hang them because of +the signature; he kept them locked up in a drawer. + +In the great opera-house a terrible yearning came on him to see +his son. He remembered the days when he had been wont to slide +him, in a brown holland suit, to and fro under the arch of his +legs; the times when he ran beside the boy's pony, teaching him +to ride; the day he first took him to school. He had been a +loving, lovable little chap! After he went to Eton he had +acquired, perhaps, a little too much of that desirable manner +which old Jolyon knew was only to be obtained at such places and +at great expense; but he had always been companionable. Always a +companion, even after Cambridge--a little far off, perhaps, owing +to the advantages he had received. Old Jolyon's feeling towards +our public schools and 'Varsities never wavered, and he retained +touchingly his attitude of admiration and mistrust towards a +system appropriate to the highest in the land, of which he had +not himself been privileged to partake.... Now that June had +gone and left, or as good as left him, it would have been a +comfort to see his son again. Guilty of this treason to his +family, his principles, his class, old Jolyon fixed his eyes on +the singer. A poor thing--a wretched poor thing! And the +Florian a perfect stick! + +It was over. They were easily pleased nowadays! + +In the crowded street he snapped up a cab under the very nose of +a stout and much younger gentleman, who had already assumed it to +be his own. His route lay through Pall Mall, and at the corner, +instead of going through the Green Park, the cabman turned to +drive up St. James's Street. Old Jolyon put his hand through +the trap (he could not bear being taken out of his way); in +turning, however, he found himself opposite the 'Hotch Potch, ' +and the yearning that had been secretly with him the whole +evening prevailed. He called to the driver to stop. He would go +in and ask if Jo still belonged there. + +He went in. The hall looked exactly as it did when he used to +dine there with Jack Herring, and they had the best cook in +London; and he looked round with the shrewd, straight glance that +had caused him all his life to be better served than most men. + +"Mr. Jolyon Forsyte still a member here?" + +"Yes, sir; in the Club now, sir. What name?" + +Old Jolyon was taken aback. + +"His father," he said. + +And having spoken, he took his stand, back to the fireplace. + +Young Jolyon, on the point of leaving the Club, had put on his +hat, and was in the act of crossing the hall, as the porter met +him. He was no longer young, with hair going grey, and face--a +narrower replica of his father's, with the same large drooping +moustache--decidedly worn. He turned pale. This meeting was +terrible after all those years, for nothing in the world was so +terrible as a scene. They met and crossed hands without a word. +Then, with a quaver in his voice, the father said: + +"How are you, my boy?" + +The son answered: + +"How are you, Dad?" + +Old Jolyon's hand trembled in its thin lavender glove. + +"If you're going my way," he said, "I can give you a lift." + +And as though in the habit of taking each other home every night +they went out and stepped into the cab. + +To old Jolyon it seemed that his son had grown. 'More of a man +altogether,' was his comment. Over the natural amiability of +that son's face had come a rather sardonic mask, as though he had +found in the circumstances of his life the necessity for armour. +The features were certainly those of a Forsyte, but the expression +was more the introspective look of a student or philosopher. +He had no doubt been obliged to look into himself a good deal in +the course of those fifteen years. + +To young Jolyon the first sight of his father was undoubtedly a +shock--he looked so worn and old. But in the cab he seemed +hardly to have changed, still having the calm look so well +remembered, still being upright and, keen-eyed. + +"You look well, Dad." + +"Middling," old Jolyon answered. + +He was the prey of an anxiety that he found he must put into +words. Having got his son back like this, he felt he must know +what was his financial position. + +"Jo," he said, "I should like to hear what sort of water you're +in. I suppose you're in debt?" + +He put it this way that his son might find it easier to confess. + +Young Jolyon answered in his ironical voice: + +"No! I'm not in debt!" + +Old Jolyon saw that he was angry, and touched his hand. He had +run a risk. It was worth it, however, and Jo had never been +sulky with him. They drove on, without speaking again, to +Stanhope Gate. Old Jolyon invited him in, but young Jolyon shook +his head. + +"June's not here," said his father hastily: "went of to-day on a +visit. I suppose you know that she's engaged to be married?" + +"Already?" murmured young Jolyon'. + +Old Jolyon stepped out, and, in paying the cab fare, for the +first time in his life gave the driver a sovereign in mistake for +a shilling. + +Placing the coin in his mouth, the cabman whipped his horse +secretly on the underneath and hurried away. + +Old Jolyon turned the key softly in the lock, pushed open the +door, and beckoned. His son saw him gravely hanging up his coat, +with an expression on his face like that of a boy who intends to +steal cherries. + +The door of the dining-room was open, the gas turned low; a +spirit-urn hissed on a tea-tray, and close to it a cynical +looking cat had fallen asleep on the dining-table. Old Jolyon +'shoo'd' her off at once. The incident was a relief to his +feelings; he rattled his opera hat behind the animal. + +"She's got fleas," he said, following her out of the room. +Through the door in the hall leading to the basement he called +"Hssst!" several times, as though assisting the cat's departure, +till by some strange coincidence the butler appeared below. + +"You can go to bed, Parfitt," said old Jolyon. "I will lock up +and put out." + +When he again entered the dining-room the cat unfortunately +preceded him, with her tail in the air, proclaiming that she had +seen through this manouevre for suppressing the butler from the +first.... + +A fatality had dogged old Jolyon's domestic stratagems all his +life. + +Young Jolyon could not help smiling. He was very well versed in +irony, and everything that evening seemed to him ironical. The +episode of the cat; the announcement of his own daughter's +engagement. So he had no more part or parcel in her than he had +in the Puss! And the poetical justice of this appealed to him. + +"What is June like now?" he asked. + +"She's a little thing," returned old Jolyon; they say she's like +me, but that's their folly. She's more like your mother--the +same eyes and hair." + +"Ah! and she is pretty?" + +Old Jolyon was too much of a Forsyte to praise anything freely; +especially anything for which he had a genuine admiration. + +"Not bad looking--a regular Forsyte chin. It'll be lonely here +when she's gone, Jo." + +The look on his face again gave young Jolyon the shock he had +felt on first seeing his father. + +"What will you do with yourself, Dad? I suppose she's wrapped up +in him?" + +"Do with myself?" repeated old Jolyon with an angry break in his +voice. "It'll be miserable work living here alone. I don't know +how it's to end. I wish to goodness...." He checked himself, and +added: "The question is, what had I better do with this house?" + +Young Jolyon looked round the room. It was peculiarly vast and +dreary, decorated with the enormous pictures of still life that +he remembered as a boy--sleeping dogs with their noses resting on +bunches of carrots, together with onions and grapes lying side by +side in mild surprise. The house was a white elephant, but he +could not conceive of his father living in a smaller place; and +all the more did it all seem ironical. + +In his great chair with the book-rest sat old Jolyon, the +figurehead of his family and class and creed, with his white head +and dome-like forehead, the representative of moderation, and +order, and love of property. As lonely an old man as there was +in London. + +There he sat in the gloomy comfort of the room, a puppet in the +power of great forces that cared nothing for family or class or +creed, but moved, machine-like, with dread processes to +inscrutable ends. This was how it struck young Jolyon, who had +the impersonal eye. + +The poor old Dad! So this was the end, the purpose to which he +had lived with such magnificent moderation! To be lonely, and +grow older and older, yearning for a soul to speak to! + +In his turn old Jolyon looked back at his son. He wanted to talk +about many things that he had been unable to talk about all these +years. It had been impossible to seriously confide in June his +conviction that property in the Soho quarter would go up in +value; his uneasiness about that tremendous silence of Pippin, +the superintendent of the New Colliery Company, of which he had +so long been chairman; his disgust at the steady fall in American +Golgothas, or even to discuss how, by some sort of settlement, he +could best avoid the payment of those death duties which would +follow his decease. Under the influence, however, of a cup of +tea, which he seemed to stir indefinitely, he began to speak at +last. A new vista of life was thus opened up, a promised land of +talk, where he could find a harbour against the waves of +anticipation and regret; where he could soothe his soul with the +opium of devising how to round off his property and make eternal +the only part of him that was to remain alive. + +Young Jolyon was a good listener; it was his great quality. He +kept his eyes fixed on his father's face, putting a question now +and then. + +The clock struck one before old Jolyon had finished, and at the +sound of its striking his principles came back. He took out his +watch with a look of surprise: + +"I must go to bed, Jo," he said. + +Young Jolyon rose and held out his hand to help his father up. +The old face looked worn and hollow again; the eyes were steadily +averted. + +"Good-bye, my boy; take care of yourself." + +A moment passed, and young Jolyon, turning on his, heel, marched +out at the door. He could hardly see; his smile quavered. Never +in all the fifteen years since he had first found out that life +was no simple business, had he found it so singularly +complicated. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +DINNER AT SWITHIN'S + + +In Swithin's orange and light-blue dining-room, facing the Park, +the round table was laid for twelve. + +A cut-glass chandelier filled with lighted candles hung like a +giant stalactite above its centre, radiating over large +gilt-framed mirrors, slabs of marble on the tops of side-tables, +and heavy gold chairs with crewel worked seats. Everything +betokened that love of beauty so deeply implanted in each family +which has had its own way to make into Society, out of the more +vulgar heart of Nature. Swithin had indeed an impatience of +simplicity, a love of ormolu, which had always stamped him +amongst his associates as a man of great, if somewhat luxurious +taste; and out of the knowledge that no one could possibly enter +his rooms without perceiving him to be a man of wealth, he had +derived a solid and prolonged happiness such as perhaps no other +circumstance in life had afforded him. + +Since his retirement from land agency, a profession deplorable in +his estimation, especially as to its auctioneering department, he +had abandoned himself to naturally aristocratic tastes. + +The perfect luxury of his latter days had embedded him like a fly +in sugar; and his mind, where very little took place from morning +till night, was the junction of two curiously opposite emotions, +a lingering and sturdy satisfaction that he had made his own way +and his own fortune, and a sense that a man of his distinction +should never have been allowed to soil his mind with work. + +He stood at the sideboard in a white waistcoat with large gold +and onyx buttons, watching his valet screw the necks of three +champagne bottles deeper into ice-pails. Between the points of +his stand-up collar, which--though it hurt him to move--he would +on no account have had altered, the pale flesh of his under chin +remained immovable. His eyes roved from bottle to bottle. He +was debating, and he argued like this: Jolyon drinks a glass, +perhaps two, he's so careful of himself. James, he can't take +his wine nowadays. Nicholas--Fanny and he would swill water he +shouldn't wonder! Soames didn't count; these young nephews-- +Soames was thirty-one--couldn't drink! But Bosinney? + +Encountering in the name of this stranger something outside the +range of his philosophy, Swithin paused. A misgiving arose +within him! It was impossible to tell! June was only a girl, in +love too! Emily (Mrs. James) liked a good glass of champagne. +It was too dry for Juley, poor old soul, she had no palate. As +to Hatty Chessman! The thought of this old friend caused a cloud +of thought to obscure the perfect glassiness of his eyes: He +shouldn't wonder if she drank half a bottle! + +But in thinking of his remaining guest, an expression like that +of a cat who is just going to purr stole over his old face: Mrs. +Soames! She mightn't take much, but she would appreciate what +she drank; it was a pleasure to give her good wine! A pretty +woman--and sympathetic to him! + +The thought of her was like champagne itself! A pleasure to give +a good wine to a young woman who looked so well, who knew how to +dress, with charming manners, quite distinguished--a pleasure to +entertain her. Between the points of his collar he gave his head +the first small, painful oscillation of the evening. + +"Adolf!" he said. "Put in another bottle." + +He himself might drink a good deal, for, thanks to that +prescription of Blight's, he found himself extremely well, and he +had been careful to take no lunch. He had not felt so well for +weeks. Puffing out his lower lip, he gave his last instructions: + +"Adolf, the least touch of the West India when you come to the +ham." + +Passing into the anteroom, he sat down on the edge of a chair, +with his knees apart; and his tall, bulky form was wrapped at +once in an expectant, strange, primeval immobility. He was ready +to rise at a moment's notice. He had not given a dinner-party +for months. This dinner in honour of June's engagement had +seemed a bore at first (among Forsytes the custom of solemnizing +engagements by feasts was religiously observed), but the labours +of sending invitations and ordering the repast over, he felt +pleasantly stimulated. + +And thus sitting, a watch in his hand, fat, and smooth, and +golden, like a flattened globe of butter, he thought of nothing. + +A long man, with side whiskers, who had once been in Swithin's +service, but was now a greengrocer, entered and proclaimed: + +"Mrs. Chessman, Mrs. Septimus Small!" + +Two ladies advanced. The one in front, habited entirely in red, +had large, settled patches of the same colour in her cheeks, and +a hard, dashing eye. She walked at Swithin, holding out a hand +cased in a long, primrose-coloured glove: + +"Well! Swithin," she said, "I haven't seen you for ages. How are +you? Why, my dear boy, how stout you're getting!" + +The fixity of Swithin's eye alone betrayed emotion. A dumb and +grumbling anger swelled his bosom. It was vulgar to be stout, to +talk of being stout; he had a chest, nothing more. Turning to +his sister, he grasped her hand, and said in a tone of command: + +"Well, Juley." + +Mrs. Septimus Small was the tallest of the four sisters; her +good, round old face had gone a little sour; an innumerable pout +clung all over it, as if it had been encased in an iron wire mask +up to that evening, which, being suddenly removed, left little +rolls of mutinous flesh all over her countenance. Even her eyes +were pouting. It was thus that she recorded her permanent +resentment at the loss of Septimus Small. + +She had quite a reputation for saying the wrong thing, and, +tenacious like all her breed, she would hold to it when she had +said it, and add to it another wrong thing, and so on. With the +decease of her husband the family tenacity, the family +matter-of-factness, had gone sterile within her. A great talker, +when allowed, she would converse without the faintest animation +for hours together, relating, with epic monotony, the innumerable +occasions on which Fortune had misused her; nor did she ever +perceive that her hearers sympathized with Fortune, for her +heart was kind. + +Having sat, poor soul, long by the bedside of Small (a man of +poor constitution), she had acquired, the habit, and there were +countless subsequent occasions when she had sat immense periods +of time to amuse sick people, children, and other helpless +persons, and she could never divest herself of the feeling that +the world was the most ungrateful place anybody could live in. +Sunday after Sunday she sat at the feet of that extremely witty +preacher, the Rev. Thomas Scoles, who exercised a great +influence over her; but she succeeded in convincing everybody +that even this was a misfortune. She had passed into a proverb +in the family, and when anybody was observed to be peculiarly +distressing, he was known as a regular 'Juley.' The habit of her +mind would have killed anybody but a Forsyte at forty; but she +was seventy-two, and had never looked better. And one felt that +there were capacities for enjoyment about her which might yet +come out. She owned three canaries, the cat Tommy, and half a +parrot--in common with her sister Hester;--and these poor +creatures (kept carefully out of Timothy's way--he was nervous +about animals), unlike human beings, recognising that she could +not help being blighted, attached themselves to her passionately. + +She was sombrely magnificent this evening in black bombazine, +with a mauve front cut in a shy triangle, and crowned with a +black velvet ribbon round the base of her thin throat; black and +mauve for evening wear was esteemed very chaste by nearly every +Forsyte. + +Pouting at Swithin, she said: + +"Ann has been asking for you. You haven't been near us for an +age!" + +Swithin put his thumbs within the armholes of his waistcoat, and +replied: + +"Ann's getting very shaky; she ought to have a doctor!" + +"Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Forsyte!" + +Nicholas Forsyte, cocking his rectangular eyebrows, wore a smile. +He had succeeded during the day in bringing to fruition a scheme +for the employment of a tribe from Upper India in the gold-mines +of Ceylon. A pet plan, carried at last in the teeth of great +difficulties--he was justly pleased. It would double the output +of his mines, and, as he had often forcibly argued, all +experience tended to show that a man must die; and whether he +died of a miserable old age in his own country, or prematurely of +damp in the bottom of a foreign mine, was surely of little +consequence, provided that by a change in his mode of life he +benefited the British Empire. + +His ability was undoubted. Raising his broken nose towards his +listener, he would add: + +"For want of a few hundred of these fellows we haven't paid a +dividend for years, and look at the price of the shares. I can't +get ten shillings for them." + +He had been at Yarmouth, too, and had come back feeling that he +had added at least ten years to his own life. He grasped +Swithin's hand, exclaiming in a jocular voice: + +"Well, so here we are again!" + +Mrs. Nicholas, an effete woman, smiled a smile of frightened +jollity behind his back. + +"Mr. and Mrs. James Forsyte! Mr. and Mrs. Soames Forsyte!" + +Swithin drew his heels together, his deportment ever admirable. + +"Well, James, well Emily! How are you, Soames? How do you do?" + +His hand enclosed Irene's, and his eyes swelled. She was a +pretty woman--a little too pale, but her figure, her eyes, her +teeth! Too good for that chap Soames! + +The gods had given Irene dark brown eyes and golden hair, that +strange combination, provocative of men's glances, which is said +to be the mark of a weak character. And the full, soft pallor of +her neck and shoulders, above a gold-coloured frock, gave to her +personality an alluring strangeness. + +Soames stood behind, his eyes fastened on his wife's neck. The +hands of Swithin's watch, which he still held open in his hand, +had left eight behind; it was half an hour beyond his +dinner-time--he had had no lunch--and a strange primeval +impatience surged up within him. + +"It's not like Jolyon to be late!" he said to Irene, with +uncontrollable vexation. "I suppose it'll be June keeping him!" + +"People in love are always late," she answered. + +Swithin stared at her; a dusky orange dyed his cheeks. + +"They've no business to be. Some fashionable nonsense!" + +And behind this outburst the inarticulate violence of primitive +generations seemed to mutter and grumble. + +"Tell me what you think of my new star, Uncle Swithin," said +Irene softly. + +Among the lace in the bosom of her dress was shining a +five-pointed star, made of eleven diamonds. Swithin looked at +the star. He had a pretty taste in stones; no question could +have been more sympathetically devised to distract his attention. + +"Who gave you that?" he asked. + +"Soames." + +There was no change in her face, but Swithin's pale eyes bulged +as though he might suddenly have been afflicted with insight. + +"I dare say you're dull at home," he said. "Any day you like to +come and dine with me, I'll give you as good a bottle of wine as +you'll get in London." + +"Miss June Forsyte--Mr. Jolyon Forsyte!... Mr. Boswainey!..." + +Swithin moved his arm, and said in a rumbling voice: + +"Dinner, now--dinner!" + +He took in Irene, on the ground that he had not entertained her +since she was a bride. June was the portion of Bosinney, who was +placed between Irene and his fiancee. On the other side of June +was James with Mrs. Nicholas, then old Jolyon with Mrs. James, +Nicholas with Hatty Chessman, Soames with Mrs. Small, completing, +the circle to Swithin again. + +Family dinners of the Forsytes observe certain traditions. There +are, for instance, no hors d'oeuvre. The reason for this is +unknown. Theory among the younger members traces it to the +disgraceful price of oysters; it is more probably due to a desire +to come to the point, to a good practical sense deciding at once +that hors d'oeuvre are but poor things. The Jameses alone, +unable to withstand a custom almost universal in Park Lane, are +now and then unfaithful. + +A silent, almost morose, inattention to each other succeeds to +the subsidence into their seats, lasting till well into the first +entree, but interspersed with remarks such as, "Tom's bad again; +I can't tell what's the matter with him!" "I suppose Ann doesn't +come down in the mornings?"--"What's the name of your doctor, +Fanny?" "Stubbs?" "He's a quack!"--"Winifred? She's got too many +children. Four, isn't it? She's as thin as a lath!"--"What +d'you give for this sherry, Swithin? Too dry for me!" + +With the second glass of champagne, a kind of hum makes itself +heard, which, when divested of casual, accessories and resolved +into its primal element, is found to be James telling a story, +and this goes on for a long time, encroaching sometimes even upon +what must universally be recognised as the crowning point of a +Forsyte feast--'the saddle of mutton.' + +No Forsyte has given a dinner without providing a saddle of +mutton. There is something in its succulent solidity which makes +it suitable to people 'of a certain position.' It is nourishing +and tasty; the sort of thing a man remembers eating. It has a +past and a future, like a deposit paid into a bank; and it is +something that can be argued about. + +Each branch of the family tenaciously held to a particular +locality--old Jolyon swearing by Dartmoor, James by Welsh, +Swithin by Southdown, Nicholas maintaining that people might +sneer, but there was nothing like New Zealand! As for Roger, the +'original' of the brothers, he had been obliged to invent a +locality of his own, and with an ingenuity worthy of a man who +had devised a new profession for his sons, he had discovered a +shop where they sold German; on being remonstrated with, he had +proved his point by producing a butcher's bill, which showed that +he paid more than any of the others. It was on this occasion +that old Jolyon, turning to June, had said in one of his bursts +of philosophy: + +"You may depend upon it, they're a cranky lot, the Forsytes--and +you'll find it out, as you grow older!" + +Timothy alone held apart, for though he ate saddle of mutton +heartily, he was, he said, afraid of it. + +To anyone interested psychologically in Forsytes, this great +saddle-of-mutton trait is of prime importance; not only does it +illustrate their tenacity, both collectively and as individuals, +but it marks them as belonging in fibre and instincts to that +great class which believes in nourishment and flavour, and yields +to no sentimental craving for beauty. + +Younger members of the family indeed would have done without a +joint altogether, preferring guinea-fowl, or lobster salad-- +something which appealed to the imagination, and had less +nourishment--but these were females; or, if not, had been +corrupted by their wives, or by mothers, who having been forced +to eat saddle of mutton throughout their married lives, had +passed a secret hostility towards it into the fibre of their +sons. + +The great saddle-of-mutton controversy at an end, a Tewkesbury +ham commenced, together with the least touch of West Indian-- +Swithin was so long over this course that he caused a block in +the progress of the dinner. To devote himself to it with better +heart, he paused in his conversation. + +From his seat by Mrs. Septimus Small Soames was watching. He had +a reason of his own connected with a pet building scheme, for +observing Bosinney. The architect might do for his purpose; he +looked clever, as he sat leaning back in his chair, moodily +making little ramparts with bread-crumbs. Soames noted his dress +clothes to be well cut, but too small, as though made many years +ago. + +He saw him turn to Irene and say something and her face sparkle +as he often saw it sparkle at other people--never at himself. He +tried to catch what they were saying, but Aunt Juley was +speaking. + +Hadn't that always seemed very extraordinary to Soames? Only +last Sunday dear Mr. Scole, had been so witty in his sermon, so +sarcastic, "For what," he had said, "shall it profit a mar if he +gain his own soul, but lose all his property?" That, he had +said, was the motto of the middle-class; now, what had he meant +by that? Of course, it might be what middle-class people +believed--she didn't know; what did Soames think? + +He answered abstractedly: "How should I know? Scoles is a +humbug, though, isn't he?" For Bosinney was looking round the +table, as if pointing out the peculiarities of the guests, and +Soames wondered what he was saying. By her smile Irene was +evidently agreeing with his remarks. She seemed always to agree +with other people. + +Her eyes were turned on himself; Soames dropped his glance at +once. The smile had died off her lips. + +A humbug? But what did Soames mean? If Mr. Scoles was a humbug, +a clergyman--then anybody might be--it was frightful! + +"Well, and so they are!" said Soames. + +During Aunt Juley's momentary and horrified silence he caught +some words of Irene's that sounded like: 'Abandon hope, all ye +who enter here!' + +But Swithin had finished his ham. + +"Where do you go for your mushrooms?" he was saying to Irene in a +voice like a courtier's; "you ought to go to Smileybob's he'll +give 'em you fresh. These little men, they won't take the +trouble!" + +Irene turned to answer him, and Soames saw Bosinney watching her +and smiling to himself. A curious smile the fellow had. A +half-simple arrangement, like a child who smiles when he is +pleased. As for George's nickname--'The Buccaneer'--he did not +think much of that. And, seeing Bosinney turn to June, Soames +smiled too, but sardonically--he did not like June, who was not +looking too pleased. + +This was not surprising, for she had just held the following +conversation with James: + +"I stayed on the river on my way home, Uncle James, and saw a +beautiful site for a house." + +James, a slow and thorough eater, stopped the process of +mastication. + +"Eh?" he said. "Now, where was that?" + +"Close to Pangbourne." + +James placed a piece of ham in his mouth, and June waited. + +"I suppose you wouldn't know whether the land about there was +freehold?" he asked at last. "You wouldn't know anything about +the price of land about there?" + +"Yes," said June; "I made inquiries." Her little resolute face +under its copper crown was suspiciously eager and aglow. + +James regarded her with the air of an inquisitor. + +"What? You're not thinking of buying land!" he ejaculated, +dropping his fork. + +June was greatly encouraged by his interest. It had long been +her pet plan that her uncles should benefit themselves and +Bosinney by building country-houses. + +"Of course not," she said. "I thought it would be such a +splendid place for--you or--someone to build a country-house!" + +James looked at her sideways, and placed a second piece of ham in +his mouth.... + +"Land ought to be very dear about there," he said. + +What June had taken for personal interest was only the impersonal +excitement of every Forsyte who hears of something eligible in +danger of passing into other hands. But she refused to see the +disappearance of her chance, and continued to press her point. + +"You ought to go into the country, Uncle James. I wish I had a +lot of money, I wouldn't live another day in London." + +James was stirred to the depths of his long thin figure; he had +no idea his niece held such downright views. + +"Why don't you go into the country?" repeated June; "it would do +you a lot of good." + +"Why?" began James in a fluster. "Buying land--what good d'you +suppose I can do buying land, building houses?--I couldn't get +four per cent. for my money!" + +"What does that matter? You'd get fresh air." + +"Fresh air!" exclaimed James; "what should I do with fresh air," + +"I should have thought anybody liked to have fresh air," said +June scornfully. + +James wiped his napkin all over his mouth. + +"You don't know the value of money," he said, avoiding her eye. + +"No! and I hope I never shall!" and, biting her lip with +inexpressible mortification, poor June was silent. + +Why were her own relations so rich, and Phil never knew where the +money was coming from for to-morrow's tobacco. Why couldn't they +do something for him? But they were so selfish. Why couldn't +they build country-houses? She had all that naive dogmatism +which is so pathetic, and sometimes achieves such great results. +Bosinney, to whom she turned in her, discomfiture, was talking to +Irene, and a chill fell on June's spirit. Her eyes grew steady +with anger, like old Jolyon's when his will was crossed. + +James, too, was much disturbed. He felt as though someone had +threatened his right to invest his money at five per cent. +Jolyon had spoiled her. None of his girls would have said such a +thing. James had always been exceedingly liberal to his +children, and the consciousness of this made him feel it all the +more deeply. He trifled moodily with his strawberries, then, +deluging them with cream, he ate them quickly; they, at all +events, should not escape him. + +No wonder he was upset. Engaged for fifty-four years (he had +been admitted a solicitor on the earliest day sanctioned by the +law) in arranging mortgages, preserving investments at a dead +level of high and safe interest, conducting negotiations on the +principle of securing the utmost possible out of other people +compatible with safety to his clients and himself, in +calculations as to the exact pecuniary possibilities of all the +relations of life, he had come at last to think purely in terms +of money. Money was now his light, his medium for seeing, that +without which he was really unable to see, really not cognisant +of phenomena; and to have this thing, "I hope I shall never know +the value of money!" said to his face, saddened and exasperated +him. He knew it to be nonsense, or it would have frightened him. +What was the world coming to! Suddenly recollecting the story of +young Jolyon, however,(he felt a little comforted, for what could +you expect with a father like that!) This turned his thoughts +into a channel still less pleasant. What was all this talk about +Soames and Irene? + +As in all self-respecting families, an emporium had been +established where family secrets were bartered, and family stock +priced. It was known on Forsyte 'Change that Irene regretted her +marriage. Her regret was disapproved of. She ought to have +known her own mind; no dependable woman made these mistakes. + +James reflected sourly that they had a nice house (rather small) +in an excellent position, no children, and no money troubles. +Soames was reserved about his affairs, but he must be getting a +very warm man. He had a capital income from the business--for +Soames, like his father, was a member of that well-known firm of +solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte--and had always been very +careful. He had done quite unusually well with some mortgages he +had taken up, too--a little timely foreclosure--most lucky hits! + +There was no reason why Irene should not be happy, yet they said +she'd been asking for a separate room. He knew where that ended. +It wasn't as if Soames drank, + +James looked at his daughter-in-law. That unseen glance of his +was cold and dubious. Appeal and fear were in it, and a sense of +personal grievance. Why should he be worried like this? It was +very likely all nonsense; women were funny things! They +exaggerated so, you didn't know what to believe; and then, nobody +told him anything, he had to find out everything for himself. +Again he looked furtively at Irene, and across from her to +Soames. The latter, listening to Aunt Juley, was looking up, +under his brows in the direction of Bosinney. + +'He's fond of her, I know,' thought James. 'Look at the way he's +always giving her things.' + +And the extraordinary unreasonableness of her disaffection struck +him with increased force. + +It was a pity, too, she was a taking little thing, and he, James, +would be really quite fond of her if she'd only let him. She had +taken up lately with June; that was doing her no good, that was +certainly doing her no good. She was getting to have opinions of +her own. He didn't know what she wanted with anything of the +sort. She'd a good home, and everything she could wish for. He +felt that her friends ought to be chosen for her. To go on like +this was dangerous. + +June, indeed, with her habit of championing the unfortunate, had +dragged from Irene a confession, and, in return, had preached the +necessity of facing the evil, by separation, if need be. But in +the face of these exhortations, Irene had kept a brooding silence, +as though she found terrible the thought of this struggle carried +through in cold blood. He would never give her up, she had said +to June. + +"Who cares?" June cried; "let him do what he likes--you've only +to stick to it!" And she had not scrupled to say something of +this sort at Timothy's; James, when he heard of it, had felt a +natural indignation and horror. + +What if Irene were to take it into her head to--he could hardly +frame the thought--to leave Soames? But he felt this thought so +unbearable that he at once put it away; the shady visions it +conjured up, the sound of family tongues buzzing in his ears, the +horror of the conspicuous happening so close to him, to one of +his own children! Luckily, she had no money--a beggarly fifty +pound a year! And he thought of the deceased Heron, who had had +nothing to leave her, with contempt. Brooding over his glass, +his long legs twisted under the table, he quite omitted to rise +when the ladies left the room. He would have to speak to Soames- +-would have to put him on his guard; they could not go on like +this, now that such a contingency had occurred to him. And he +noticed with sour disfavour that June had left her wine-glasses +full of wine. + +'That little, thing's at the bottom of it all,' he mused; +'Irene'd never have thought of it herself.' James was a man of +imagination. + +The voice of Swithin roused him from his reverie. + +"I gave four hundred pounds for it," he was saying. "Of course +it's a regular work of art." + +"Four hundred! H'm! that's a lot of money!" chimed in Nicholas. + +The object alluded to was an elaborate group of statuary in +Italian marble, which, placed upon a lofty stand (also of +marble), diffused an atmosphere of culture throughout the room. +The subsidiary figures, of which there were six, female, nude, +and of highly ornate workmanship, were all pointing towards the +central figure, also nude, and female, who was pointing at +herself; and all this gave the observer a very pleasant sense of +her extreme value. Aunt Juley, nearly opposite, had had the +greatest difficulty in not looking, at it all the evening. + +Old Jolyon spoke; it was he who had started the discussion. + +"Four hundred fiddlesticks! Don't tell me you gave four hundred +for that?" + +Between the points of his collar Swithin's chin made the second +painful oscillatory movement of the evening. + +"Four-hundred-pounds, of English money; not a farthing less. I +don't regret it. It's not common English--it's genuine modern +Italian!" + +Soames raised the comer of his lip in a smile, and looked across +at Bosinney. The architect was grinning behind the fumes of his +cigarette. Now, indeed, he looked more like a buccaneer. + +"There's a lot of work about it," remarked James hastily, who was +really moved by the size of the group. "It'd sell well at +Jobson's." + +"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it, "went on Swithin," asked +me five hundred--I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked +half-starved, poor dey-vil! + +"Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, +these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live. Now, there's +young Flageoletti, that Fanny and the girls are always hav'in' +in, to play the fiddle; if he makes a hundred a year it's as much +as ever he does!" + +James shook his head. "Ah!" he said, "I don't know how they +live!" + +Old Jolyon had risen, and, cigar in mouth, went to inspect the +group at close quarters. + +"Wouldn't have given two for it!" he pronounced at last. + +Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance at each other +anxiously; and, on the other side of Swithin, Bosinney, still +shrouded in smoke. + +'I wonder what he thinks of it?' thought Soames, who knew well +enough that this group was hopelessly vieux jeu; hopelessly of +the last generation. There was no longer any sale at Jobson's +for such works of art. + +Swithin's answer came at last. "You never knew anything about a +statue. You've got your pictures, and that's all!" + +Old Jolyon walked back to his seat, puffing his cigar. It was +not likely that he was going to be drawn into an argument with an +obstinate beggar like Swithin, pig-headed as a mule, who had +never known a statue from a---straw hat. + +"Stucco!" was all he said. + +It had long been physically impossible for Swithin to start; his +fist came down on the table. + +"Stucco! I should like to see anything you've got in your house +half as good!" + +And behind his speech seemed to sound again that rumbling +violence of primitive generations. + +It was James who saved the situation. + +"Now, what do you say, Mr. Bosinney? You're an architect; you +ought to know all about statues and things!" + +Every eye was turned upon Bosinney; all waited with a strange, +suspicious look for his answer. + +And Soames, speaking for the first time, 'asked: + +"Yes, Bosinney, what do you say?" + +Bosinney replied coolly: + +"The work is a remarkable one." + +His words were addressed to Swithin, his eyes smiled slyly at old +Jolyon; only Soames remained unsatisfied. + +"Remarkable for what?" + +"For its naivete" + +The answer was followed by an impressive silence; Swithin alone +was not sure whether a compliment was intended. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PROJECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +Soames Forsyte walked out of his green-painted front door three +days after the dinner at Swithin's, and looking back from across +the Square, confirmed his impression that the house wanted +painting. + +He had left his wife sitting on the sofa in the drawing-room, her +hands crossed in her lap, manifestly waiting for him to go out. +This was not unusual. It happened, in fact, every day. + +He could not understand what she found wrong with him. It was +not as if he drank! Did he run into debt, or gamble, or swear; +was he violent; were his friends rackety; did he stay out at +night? On the contrary. + +The profound, subdued aversion which he felt in his wife was a +mystery to him, and a source of the most terrible irritation. +That she had made a mistake, and did not love him, had tried to +love him and could not love him, was obviously no reason. + +He that could imagine so outlandish a cause for his wife's not +getting on with him was certainly no Forsyte. + +Soames was forced, therefore, to set the blame entirely down to +his wife. He had never met a woman so capable of inspiring +affection. They could not go anywhere without his seeing how all +the men were attracted by her; their looks, manners, voices, +betrayed it; her behaviour under this attention had been beyond +reproach. That she was one of those women--not too common in the +Anglo-Saxon race--born to be loved and to love, who when not +loving are not living, had certainly never even occurred to him. +Her power of attraction, he regarded as part of her value as his +property; but it made him, indeed, suspect that she could give as +well as receive; and she gave him nothing! 'Then why did she +marry me?' was his continual thought. He had, forgotten his +courtship; that year and a half when he had besieged and lain in +wait for her, devising schemes for her entertainment, giving her +presents, proposing to her periodically, and keeping her other +admirers away with his perpetual presence. He had forgotten the +day when, adroitly taking advantage of an acute phase of her +dislike to her home surroundings, he crowned his labours with +success. If he remembered anything, it was the dainty +capriciousness with which the gold-haired, dark-eyed girl had +treated him. He certainly did not remember the look on her face- +-strange, passive, appealing--when suddenly one day she had +yielded, and said that she would marry him. + +It had been one of those real devoted wooings which books and +people praise, when the lover is at length rewarded for hammering +the iron till it is malleable, and all must be happy ever after +as the wedding bells. + +Soames walked eastwards, mousing doggedly along on the shady +side. + +The house wanted doing, up, unless he decided to move into the +country, and build. + +For the hundredth time that month he turned over this problem. +There was no use in rushing into things! He was very comfortably +off, with an increasing income getting on for three thousand a +year; but his invested capital was not perhaps so large as his +father believed--James had a tendency to expect that his children +should be better off than they were. 'I can manage eight +thousand easily enough,' he thought, 'without calling in either + +Robertson's or Nicholl's.' + +He had stopped to look in at a picture shop, for Soames was an +'amateur' of pictures, and had a little-room in No. 62, +Montpellier Square, full of canvases, stacked against the wall, +which he had no room to hang. He brought them home with him on +his way back from the City, generally after dark, and would enter +this room on Sunday afternoons, to spend hours turning the +pictures to the light, examining the marks on their backs, and +occasionally making notes. + +They were nearly all landscapes with figures in the foreground, a +sign of some mysterious revolt against London, its tall houses, +its interminable streets, where his life and the lives of his +breed and class were passed. Every now and then he would take +one or two pictures away with him in a cab, and stop at Jobson's +on his way into the City. + +He rarely showed them to anyone; Irene, whose opinion he secretly +respected and perhaps for that reason never solicited, had only +been into the room on rare occasions, in discharge of some wifely +duty. She was not asked to look at the pictures, and she never +did. To Soames this was another grievance. He hated that pride +of hers, and secretly dreaded it. + +In the plate-glass window of the picture shop his image stood and +looked at him. + +His sleek hair under the brim of the tall hat had a sheen like +the hat itself; his cheeks, pale and flat, the line of his +clean-shaven lips, his firm chin with its greyish shaven tinge, +and the buttoned strictness of his black cut-away coat, conveyed +an appearance of reserve and secrecy, of imperturbable, enforced +composure; but his eyes, cold,--grey, strained--looking, with a +line in the brow between them, examined him wistfully, as if they +knew of a secret weakness. + +He noted the subjects of the pictures, the names of the painters, +made a calculation of their values, but without the satisfaction +he usually derived from this inward appraisement, and walked on. + +No. 62 would do well enough for another year, if he decided to +build! The times were good for building, money had not been so +dear for years; and the site he had seen at Robin Hill, when he +had gone down there in the spring to inspect the Nicholl +mortgage--what could be better! Within twelve miles of Hyde Park +Corner, the value of the land certain to go up, would always +fetch more than he gave for it; so that a house, if built in +really good style, was a first-class investment. + +The notion of being the one member of his family with a country +house weighed but little with him; for to a true Forsyte, +sentiment, even the sentiment of social position, was a luxury +only to be indulged in after his appetite for more material +pleasure had been satisfied. + +To get Irene out of London, away from opportunities of going +about and seeing people, away from her friends and those who put +ideas into her head! That was the thing! She was too thick with +June! June disliked him. He returned the sentiment. They were +of the same blood. + +It would be everything to get Irene out of town. The house would +please her she would enjoy messing about with the decoration, she +was very artistic! + +The house must be in good style, something that would always be +certain to command a price, something unique, like that last +house of Parkes, which had a tower; but Parkes had himself said +that his architect was ruinous. You never knew where you were +with those fellows; if they had a name they ran you into no end +of expense and were conceited into the bargain. + +And a common architect was no good--the memory of Parkes' tower +precluded the employment of a common architect: + +This was why he had thought of Bosinney. Since the dinner at +Swithin's he had made enquiries, the result of which had been +meagre, but encouraging: "One of the new school." + +"Clever?" + +"As clever as you like--a bit--a bit up in the air!" + +He had not been able to discover what houses Bosinney had built, +nor what his charges were. The impression he gathered was that +he would be able to make his own terms. The more he reflected on +the idea, the more he liked it. It would be keeping the thing in +the family, with Forsytes almost an instinct; and he would be +able to get 'favoured-nation,' if not nominal terms--only fair, +considering the chance to Bosinney of displaying his talents, for +this house must be no common edifice. + +Soames reflected complacently on the work it would be sure to +bring the young man; for, like every Forsyte, he could be a +thorough optimist when there was anything to be had out of it. + +Bosinney's office was in Sloane Street, close at, hand, so that +he would be able to keep his eye continually on the plans. + +Again, Irene would not be to likely to object to leave London if +her greatest friend's lover were given the job. June's marriage +might depend on it. Irene could not decently stand in the way of +June's marriage; she would never do that, he knew her too well. +And June would be pleased; of this he saw the advantage. + +Bosinney looked clever, but he had also--and--it was one of his +great attractions--an air as if he did not quite know on which +side his bread were buttered; he should be easy to deal with in +money matters. Soames made this reflection in no defrauding +spirit; it was the natural attitude of his mind--of the mind of +any good business man--of all those thousands of good business +men through whom he was threading his way up Ludgate Hill. + +Thus he fulfilled the inscrutable laws of his great class--of +human nature itself--when he reflected, with a sense of comfort, +that Bosinney would be easy to deal with in money matters. + +While he elbowed his way on, his eyes, which he usually kept +fixed on the ground before his feet, were attracted upwards by +the dome of St. Paul's. It had a peculiar fascination for him, +that old dome, and not once, but twice or three times a week, +would he halt in his daily pilgrimage to enter beneath and stop +in the side aisles for five or ten minutes, scrutinizing the +names and epitaphs on the monuments. The attraction for him of +this great church was inexplicable, unless it enabled him to +concentrate his thoughts on the business of the day. If any +affair of particular moment, or demanding peculiar acuteness, was +weighing on his mind, he invariably went in, to wander with +mouse-like attention from epitaph to epitaph. Then retiring in +the same noiseless way, he would hold steadily on up Cheapside, a +thought more of dogged purpose in his gait, as though he had seen +something which he had made up his mind to buy. + +He went in this morning, but, instead of stealing from monument +to monument, turned his eyes upwards to the columns and spacings +of the walls, and remained motionless. + +His uplifted face, with the awed and wistful look which faces +take on themselves in church, was whitened to a chalky hue in the +vast building. His gloved hands were clasped in front over the +handle of his umbrella. He lifted them. Some sacred inspiration +perhaps had come to him. + +'Yes,' he thought, 'I must have room to hang my pictures. + +That evening, on his return from the City, he called at +Bosinney's office. He found the architect in his shirt-sleeves, +smoking a pipe, and ruling off lines on a plan. Soames refused a +drink, and came at once to the point. + +"If you've nothing better to do on Sunday, come down with me to +Robin Hill, and give me your opinion on a building site." + +"Are you going to build?" + +"Perhaps," said Soames; "but don't speak of it. I just want your +opinion." + +"Quite so," said the architect. + +Soames peered about the room. + +"You're rather high up here," he remarked. + +Any information he could gather about the nature and scope of +Bosinney's business would be all to the good. + +"It does well enough for me so far," answered the architect. +"You're accustomed to the swells." + +He knocked out his pipe, but replaced it empty between his teeth; +it assisted him perhaps to carry on the conversation. Soames +noted a hollow in each cheek, made as it were by suction. + +"What do you pay for an office like this?" said he. + +"Fifty too much," replied Bosinney. + +This answer impressed Soames favourably. + +"I suppose it is dear," he said. "I'll call for you--on Sunday +about eleven." + +The following Sunday therefore he called for Bosinney in a +hansom, and drove him to the station. On arriving at Robin Hill, +they found no cab, and started to walk the mile and a half to the +site. + +It was the 1st of August--a perfect day, with a burning sun and +cloudless sky--and in the straight, narrow road leading up the +hill their feet kicked up a yellow dust. + +"Gravel soil," remarked Soames, and sideways he glanced at the +coat Bosinney wore. Into the side-pockets of this coat were +thrust bundles of papers, and under one arm was carried a queer- +looking stick. Soames noted these and other peculiarities. + +No one but a clever man, or, indeed, a buccaneer, would have +taken such liberties with his appearance; and though these +eccentricities were revolting to Soames, he derived a certain +satisfaction from them, as evidence of qualities by which he must +inevitably profit. If the fellow could build houses, what did +his clothes matter? + +"I told you," he said, "that I want this house to be a surprise, +so don't say anything about it. I never talk of my affairs until +they're carried through." + +Bosinney nodded. + +"Let women into your plans," pursued Soames, "and you never know +where it'll end." + +"Ah!" Said Bosinney, "women are the devil!" + +This feeling had long been at the--bottom of Soames's heart; he +had never, however, put it into words. + +"Oh!" he Muttered, "so you're beginning to...." He stopped, but +added, with an uncontrollable burst of spite: "June's got a +temper of her own--always had." + +"A temper's not a bad thing in an angel." + +Soames had never called Irene an angel. He could not so have +violated his best instincts, letting other people into the secret +of her value, and giving himself away. He made no reply. + +They had struck into a half-made road across a warren. A +cart-track led at right-angles to a gravel pit, beyond which the +chimneys of a cottage rose amongst a clump of trees at the border +of a thick wood. Tussocks of feathery grass covered the rough +surface of the ground, and out of these the larks soared into the +hate of sunshine. On the far horizon, over a countless +succession of fields and hedges, rose a line of downs. + +Soames led till they had crossed to the far side, and there he +stopped. It was the chosen site; but now that he was about to +divulge the spot to another he had become uneasy. + +"The agent lives in that cottage," he said; "he'll give us some +lunch--we'd better have lunch before we go into this matter." + +He again took the lead to the cottage, where the agent, a tall +man named Oliver, with a heavy face and grizzled beard, welcomed +them. During lunch, which Soames hardly touched, he kept looking +at Bosinney, and once or twice passed his silk handkerchief +stealthily over his forehead. The meal came to an end at last, +and Bosinney rose. + +"I dare say you've got business to talk over," he said; "I'll +just go and nose about a bit." Without waiting for a reply he +strolled out. + +Soames was solicitor to this estate, and he spent nearly an hour +in the agent's company, looking at ground-plans and discussing +the Nicholl and other mortgages; it was as it were by an +afterthought that he brought up the question of the building +site. + +"Your people," he said, "ought to come down in their price to me, +considering that I shall be the first to build." + +Oliver shook his head. + +The site you've fixed on, Sir, he said, "is the cheapest we've +got. Sites at the top of the slope are dearer by a good bit." + +"Mind," said Soames," I've not decided; it's quite possible I +shan't build at all. The ground rent's very high." + +"Well, Mr. Forsyte, I shall be sorry if you go off, and I think +you'll make a mistake, Sir. There's not a bit of land near +London with such a view as this, nor one that's cheaper, all +things considered; we've only to advertise, to get a mob of +people after it." + +They looked at each other. Their faces said very plainly: 'I +respect you as a man of business; and you can't expect me to +believe a word you say.' + +Well, repeated Soames, "I haven't made up my mind; the thing will +very likely go off!" With these words, taking up his umbrella, +he put his chilly hand into the agent's, withdrew it without the +faintest pressure, and went out into the sun. + +He walked slowly back towards the site in deep thought. His +instinct told him that what the agent had said was true. A cheap +site. And the beauty of it was, that he knew the agent did not +really think it cheap; so that his own intuitive knowledge was a +victory over the agent's. + +'Cheap or not, I mean to have it,' he thought. + +The larks sprang up in front of his feet, the air was full of +butterflies, a sweet fragrance rose from the wild grasses. The +sappy scent of the bracken stole forth from the wood, where, +hidden in the depths, pigeons were cooing, and from afar on the +warm breeze, came the rhythmic chiming of church bells. + +Soames walked with his eyes on the ground, his lips opening and +closing as though in anticipation of a delicious morsel. But +when he arrived at the site, Bosinney was nowhere to be seen. +After waiting some little time, he crossed the warren in the +direction of the slope. He would have shouted, but dreaded the +sound of his voice. + +The warren was as lonely as a prairie, its silence only broken by +the rustle of rabbits bolting to their holes, and the song of the +larks. + +Soames, the pioneer-leader of the great Forsyte army advancing to +the civilization of this wilderness, felt his spirit daunted by +the loneliness, by the invisible singing, and the hot, sweet air. +He had begun to retrace his steps when he at last caught sight of +Bosinney. + +The architect was sprawling under a large oak tree, whose trunk, +with a huge spread of bough and foliage, ragged with age, stood +on the verge of the rise. + +Soames had to touch him on the shoulder before he looked up. + +"Hallo! Forsyte," he said, "I've found the very place for your +house! Look here!" + +Soames stood and looked, then he said, coldly: + +"You may be very clever, but this site will cost me half as much +again." + +"Hang the cost, man. Look at the view!" + +Almost from their feet stretched ripe corn, dipping to a small +dark copse beyond. A plain of fields and hedges spread to the +distant grey-bluedowns. In a silver streak to the right could be +seen the line of the river. + +The sky was so blue, and the sun so bright, that an eternal +summer seemed to reign over this prospect. Thistledown floated +round them, enraptured by the serenity, of the ether. The heat +danced over the corn, and, pervading all, was a soft, insensible +hum, like the murmur of bright minutes holding revel between +earth and heaven. + +Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his +breast. To live here in sight of all this, to be able to point +it out to his friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks +flushed. The warmth, the radiance, the glow, were sinking into +his senses as, four years before, Irene's beauty had sunk into +his senses and made him long for her. He stole a glance at +Bosinney, whose eyes, the eyes of the coachman's 'half-tame +leopard,' seemed running wild over the landscape. The sunlight +had caught the promontories of the fellow's face, the bumpy +cheekbones, the point of his chin, the vertical ridges above his +brow; and Soames watched this rugged, enthusiastic, careless face +with an unpleasant feeling. + +A long, soft ripple of wind flowed over the corn, and brought a +puff of warm air into their faces. + +"I could build you a teaser here," said Bosinney, breaking the +silence at last. + +"I dare say," replied Soames, drily. "You haven't got to pay for +it." + +"For about eight thousand I could build you a palace." + +Soames had become very pale--a struggle was going on within him. +He dropped his eyes, and said stubbornly: + +"I can't afford it." + +And slowly, with his mousing walk, he led the way back to the +first site. + +They spent some time there going into particulars of the +projected house, and then Soames returned to the agent's cottage. + +He came out in about half an hour, and, joining Bosinney, +started for the station. + +"Well," he said, hardly opening his lips, "I've taken that site +of yours, after all." + +And again he was silent, confusedly debating how it was that this +fellow, whom by habit he despised, should have overborne his own +decision. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A FORSYTE MENAGE + + +Like the enlightened thousands of his class and generation in +this great city of London, who no longer believe in red velvet +chairs, and know that groups of modern Italian marble are 'vieux +jeu,' Soames Forsyte inhabited a house which did what it could. +It owned a copper door knocker of individual design, windows +which had been altered to open outwards, hanging flower boxes +filled with fuchsias, and at the back (a great feature) a little +court tiled with jade-green tiles, and surrounded by pink +hydrangeas in peacock-blue tubs. Here, under a parchment- +coloured Japanese sunshade covering the whole end, inhabitants +or visitors could be screened from the eyes of the curious +while they drank tea and examined at their leisure the latest +of Soames's little silver boxes.. + +The inner decoration favoured the First Empire and William +Morris. For its size, the house was commodious; there were +countless nooks resembling birds' nests, and little things made +of silver were deposited like eggs. + +In this general perfection two kinds of fastidiousness were at +war. There lived here a mistress who would have dwelt daintily +on a desert island; a master whose daintiness was, as it were, an +investment, cultivated by the owner for his advancement, in +accordance with the laws of competition. This competitive +daintiness had caused Soames in his Marlborough days to be the +first boy into white waistcoats in summer, and corduroy +waistcoats in winter, had prevented him from ever appearing in, +public with his tie climbing up his collar, and induced him to +dust his patent leather boots before a great multitude assembled +on Speech Day to hear him recite Moliere. + +Skin-like immaculateness had grown over Soames, as over many +Londoners; impossible to conceive of him with a hair out of +place, a tie deviating one-eighth of an inch from the +perpendicular, a collar unglossed! He would not have gone +without a bath for worlds--it was the fashion to take baths; and +how bitter was his scorn of people who omitted them! + +But Irene could be imagined, like some nymph, bathing in wayside +streams, for the joy of the freshness and of seeing her own fair +body. + +In this conflict throughout the house the woman had gone to the +wall. As in the struggle between Saxon and Celt still going on +within the nation, the more impressionable and receptive +temperament had had forced on it a conventional superstructure. + +Thus the house had acquired a close resemblance to hundreds of +other houses with the same high aspirations, having become: 'That +very charming little house of the Soames Forsytes, quite +individual, my dear--really elegant.' + +For Soames Forsyte--read James Peabody, Thomas Atkins, or +Emmanuel Spagnoletti, the name in fact of any upper-middle class +Englishman in London with any pretensions to taste; and though +the decoration be different, the phrase is just. + +On the evening of August 8, a week after the expedition to Robin +Hill, in the dining-room of this house--'quite individual, my +dear--really elegant'--Soames and Irene were seated at dinner. A +hot dinner on Sundays was a little distinguishing elegance common +to this house and many others. Early in married life Soames had +laid down the rule: 'The servants must give us hot dinner on +Sundays--they've nothing to do but play the concertina.' + +The custom had produced no revolution. For--to Soames a rather +deplorable sign--servants were devoted to Irene, who, in defiance +of all safe tradition, appeared to recognise their right to a +share in the weaknesses of human nature. + +The happy pair were seated, not opposite each other, but +rectangularly, at the handsome rosewood table; they dined without +a cloth--a distinguishing elegance--and so far had not spoken a +word. + +Soames liked to talk during dinner about business, or what he had +been buying, and so long as he talked Irene's silence did not +distress him. This evening he had found it impossible to talk. +The decision to build had been weighing on his mind all the week, +and he had made up his mind to tell her. + +His nervousness about this disclosure irritated him profoundly; +she had no business to make him feel like that--a wife and a +husband being one person. She had not looked at him once since +they sat down; and he wondered what on earth she had been +thinking about all the time. It was hard, when a man worked as +he did, making money for her--yes, and with an ache in his heart- +-that she should sit there, looking--looking as if she saw the +walls of the room closing in. It was enough to make a man get up +and leave the table. + +The light from the rose-shaded lamp fell on her neck and arms-- +Soames liked her to dine in a low dress, it gave him an +inexpressible feeling of superiority to the majority of his +acquaintance, whose wives were contented with their best high +frocks or with tea-gowns, when they dined at home. Under that +rosy light her amber-coloured hair and fair skin made strange +contrast with her dark brown eyes. + +Could a man own anything prettier than this dining-table with its +deep tints, the starry, soft-petalled roses, the ruby-coloured +glass, and quaint silver furnishing; could a man own anything +prettier than the woman who sat at it? Gratitude was no virtue +among Forsytes, who, competitive, and full of common-sense, had +no occasion for it; and Soames only experienced a sense of +exasperation amounting to pain, that he did not own her as it was +his right, to own her, that he could not, as by stretching out +his hand to that rose, pluck her and sniff the very secrets of +her heart. + +Out of his other property, out of all the things he had +collected, his silver, his pictures, his houses, his investments, +he got a secret and intimate feeling; out of her he got none. + +In this house of his there was writing on every wall. His +business-like temperament protested against a mysterious warning +that she was not made for him. He had married this woman, +conquered her, made her his own, and it seemed to him contrary to +the most fundamental of all laws, the law of possession, that he +could do no more than own her body--if indeed he could do that, +which he was beginning to doubt. If any one had asked him if he +wanted to own her soul, the question would have seemed to him +both ridiculous and sentimental. But he did so want, and the +writing said he never would. + +She was ever silent, passive, gracefully averse; as though +terrified lest by word, motion, or sign she might lead him to +believe that she was fond of him; and he asked himself: Must I +always go on like this? + +Like most novel readers of his generation (and Soames was a great +novel reader), literature coloured his view of life; and he had +imbibed the belief that it was only a question of time. + +In the end the husband always gained the affection of his wife. +Even in those cases--a class of book he was not very fond of-- +which ended in tragedy, the wife always died with poignant +regrets on her lips, or if it were the husband who died-- +unpleasant thought--threw herself on his body in an agony of +remorse. + +He often took Irene to the theatre, instinctively choosing the +modern Society Plays with the modern Society conjugal problem, so +fortunately different from any conjugal problem in real life. He +found that they too always ended in the same way, even when there +was a lover in the case. While he was watching the play Soames +often sympathized with the lover; but before he reached home +again, driving with Irene in a hansom, he saw that this would not +do, and he was glad the play had ended as it had. There was one +class of husband that had just then come into fashion, the +strong, rather rough, but extremely sound man, who was peculiarly +successful at the end of the play; with this person Soames was +really not in sympathy, and had it not been for his own position, +would have expressed his disgust with the fellow. But he was so +conscious of how vital to himself was the necessity for being a +successful, even a 'strong,' husband, that be never spoke of a +distaste born perhaps by the perverse processes of Nature out of +a secret fund of brutality in himself. + +But Irene's silence this evening was exceptional. He had never +before seen such an expression on her face. And since it is +always the unusual which alarms, Soames was alarmed. He ate his +savoury, and hurried the maid as she swept off the crumbs with +the silver sweeper. When she had left the room, he filled his. +glass with wine and said: + +"Anybody been here this afternoon?" + +"June." + +"What did she want?" It was an axiom with the Forsytes that +people did not go anywhere unless they wanted something. "Came +to talk about her lover, I suppose?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"It looks to me," continued Soames, "as if she were sweeter on him +than he is on her. She's always following him about." + +Irene's eyes made him feel uncomfortable. + +"You've no business to say such a thing!" she exclaimed. + +"Why not? Anybody can see it." + +"They cannot. And if they could, it's disgraceful to say so." + +Soames's composure gave way. + +"You're a pretty wife!" he said. But secretly he wondered at the +heat of her reply; it was unlike her. "You're cracked about +June! I can tell you one thing: now that she has the Buccaneer +in tow, she doesn't care twopence about you, and, you'll find it +out. But you won't see so much of her in future; we're going to +live in the country." + +He had been glad to get his news out under cover of this burst of +irritation. He had expected a cry of dismay; the silence with +which his pronouncement was received alarmed him. + +"You don't seem interested," he was obliged to add. + +"I knew it already." + +He looked at her sharply. + +"Who told you?" + +"June." + +"How did she know?" + +Irene did not answer. Baffled and uncomfortable, he said: + +"It's a fine thing for Bosinney, it'll be the making of him. I +suppose she's told you all about it?" + +"Yes." + +There was another pause, and then Soames said: + +"I suppose you don't want to, go?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"Well, I can't tell what you want. You never seem contented +here." + +"Have my wishes anything to do with it?" + +She took the vase of roses and left the room. Soames remained +seated. Was it for this that he had signed that contract? Was +it for this that he was going to spend some, ten thousand pounds? +Bosinney's phrase came back to him: "Women are the devil!" + +But presently he grew calmer. It might have, been worse. She +might have flared up. He had expected something more than this. +It was lucky, after all, that June had broken the ice for him. +She must have wormed it out of Bosinney; he might have known she +would. + +He lighted his cigarette. After all, Irene had not made a scene! +She would come round--that was the best of her; she was cold, but +not sulky. And, puffing the cigarette smoke at a lady-bird on +the shining table, he plunged into a reverie about the house. It +was no good worrying; he would go and make it up presently. She +would be sitting out there in the dark, under the Japanese +sunshade, knitting. A beautiful, warm night.... + +In truth, June had come in that afternoon with shining eyes, and +the words: "Soames is a brick! It's splendid for Phil--the very +thing for him!" + +Irene's face remaining dark and puzzled, she went on: + +"Your new house at Robin Hill, of course. What? Don't you +know?" + +Irene did not know. + +"Oh! then, I suppose I oughtn't to have told you!" Looking +impatiently at her friend, she cried: "You look as if you didn't +care. Don't you see, it's what I've' been praying for--the very +chance he's been wanting all this time. Now you'll see what he +can do;" and thereupon she poured out the whole story. + +Since her own engagement she had not seemed much interested in +her friend's position; the hours she spent with Irene were given +to confidences of her own; and at times, for all her affectionate +pity, it was impossible to keep out of her smile a trace of +compassionate contempt for the woman who had made such a mistake +in her life--such a vast, ridiculous mistake. + +"He's to have all the decorations as well--a free hand. It's +perfect--"June broke into laughter, her little figure quivered +gleefully; she raised her hand, and struck a blow at a muslin +curtain. "Do you, know I even asked Uncle James...." But, with a +sudden dislike to mentioning that incident, she stopped; and +presently, finding her friend so unresponsive, went away. She +looked back from the pavement, and Irene was still standing in +the doorway. In response to her farewell wave, Irene put her +hand to her brow, and, turning slowly, shut the door.... + +Soames went to the drawing-room presently, and peered at her +through the window. + +Out in the shadow of the Japanese sunshade she was sitting very +still, the lace on her white shoulders stirring with the soft +rise and fall of her bosom. + +But about this silent creature sitting there so motionless, in +the dark, there seemed a warmth, a hidden fervour of feeling, as +if the whole of her being had been stirred, and some change were +taking place in its very depths. + +He stole back to the dining-room unnoticed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JAMES AT LARGE + + +It was not long before Soames's determination to build went the +round of the family, and created the flutter that any decision +connected with property should make among Forsytes. + +It was not his fault, for he had been determined that no one +should know. June, in the fulness of her heart had told Mrs. +Small, giving her leave only to tell Aunt Ann--she thought it +would cheer her, the poor old sweet! for Aunt Ann had kept her +room now for many days. + +Mrs. Small told Aunt Ann at once, who, smiling as she lay back on +her pillows, said in her distinct, trembling old voice: + +"It's very nice for dear June; but I hope they will be careful-- +it's rather dangerous!" + +When she was left alone again, a frown, like a cloud presaging a +rainy morrow, crossed her face. + +While she was lying there so many days the process of recharging +her will went on all the time; it spread to her face, too, and +tightening movements were always in action at the corners of her +lips. + +The maid Smither, who had been in her service since girlhood, and +was spoken of as "Smither--a good girl--but so slow!"--the maid +Smither performed every morning with extreme punctiliousness the +crowning ceremony of that ancient toilet. Taking from the +recesses of their, pure white band-box those flat, grey curls, +the insignia of personal dignity, she placed them securely in her +mistress's hands, and turned her back. + +And every day Aunts Juley and Hester were required to come and +report on Timothy; what news there was of Nicholas; whether dear +June had succeeded in getting Jolyon to shorten the engagement, +now that Mr. Bosinney was building Soames a house; whether young +Roger's wife was really--expecting; how the operation on Archie +had succeeded; and what Swithin. had done about that empty house +in Wigmore Street, where the tenant had lost all his money and +treated him so badly; above all, about Soames; was Irene still-- +still asking for a separate room? And every morning Smither was +told: "I shall be coming down this afternoon, Smither, about two +o'clock. I shall want your arm, after all these days in bed!" + +After telling Aunt Ann, Mrs. Small had spoken of the house in the +strictest confidence to Mrs. Nicholas, who in her turn had asked +Winifred Dartie for confirmation, supposing, of course, that, +being Soames's sister, she would know all about it. Through her +it had in due course come round to the ears of James. He had been +a good deal agitated. + +"Nobody," he said, "told him anything." And, rather than go +direct to Soames himself, of whose taciturnity he was afraid, he +took his umbrella and went round to Timothy's. + +He found Mrs. Septimus and Hester (who had been told--she was so +safe, she found it tiring to talk) ready, and indeed eager, to +discuss the news. It was very good of dear Soames, they thought, +to employ Mr. Bosinney, but rather risky. What had George named +him? 'The Buccaneer' How droll! But George was always droll! +However, it would be all in the family they supposed they must +really look upon Mr. Bosinney as belonging to the family, though +it seemed strange. + +James here broke in: + +"Nobody knows anything about him. I don't see what Soames wants +with a young man like that. I shouldn't be surprised if Irene +had put her oar in. I shall speak to...." + +"Soames," interposed Aunt Juley, "told Mr. Bosinney that he +didn't wish it mentioned. He wouldn't like it to be talked +about, I'm sure, and if Timothy knew he would be very vexed, +I...." + +James put his hand behind his ear: + +"What?" he said. "I'm getting very deaf. I suppose I don't hear +people. Emily's got a bad toe. We shan't be able to start for +Wales till the end of the month. There' s always something!" +And, having got what he wanted, he took his hat and went away. + +It was a fine afternoon, and he walked across the Park towards +Soames's, where he intended to dine, for Emily's toe kept her in +bed, and Rachel and Cicely were on a visit to the country. He +took the slanting path from the Bayswater side of the Row to the +Knightsbridge Gate, across a pasture of short, burnt grass, +dotted with blackened sheep, strewn with seated couples and +strange waifs; lying prone on their faces, like corpses on a +field over which the wave of battle has rolled. + +He walked rapidly, his head bent, looking neither to right nor, +left. The appearance of this park, the centre of his own +battle-field, where he had all his life been fighting, excited no +thought or speculation in his, mind. These corpses flung down, +there, from out the press and turmoil of the struggle, these +pairs of lovers sitting cheek by jowl for an hour of idle Elysium +snatched from the monotony of their treadmill, awakened no +fancies in his mind; he had outlived that kind of imagination; +his nose, like the nose of a sheep, was fastened to the pastures +on which he browsed. + +One of his tenants had lately shown a disposition to be +behind-hand in his rent, and it had become a grave question +whether he had not better turn him out at once, and so run the +risk of not re-letting before Christmas. Swithin had just been +let in very badly, but it had served him right--he had held on +too long. + +He pondered this as he walked steadily, holding his umbrella +carefully by the wood, just below the crook of the handle, so as +to keep the ferule off the ground, and not fray the silk in the +middle. And, with his thin, high shoulders stooped, his long +legs moving with swift mechanical precision, this passage through +the Park, where the sun shone with a clear flame on so much +idleness--on so many human evidences of the remorseless battle of +Property, raging beyond its ring--was like the flight of some +land bird across the sea. + +He felt a--touch on the arm as he came out at, Albert Gate. + +It was Soames, who, crossing from the shady side of Piccadilly, +where he had been walking home from the office, had suddenly +appeared alongside. + +"Your mother's in bed," said James; "I was, just coming to you, +but I suppose I shall be in the way." + +The outward relations between James and his son were marked by a +lack of sentiment peculiarly Forsytean, but for all that the two +were by no means unattached. Perhaps they regarded one another +as an investment; certainly they were solicitous of each other's +welfare, glad of each other's company. They had never exchanged +two words upon the more intimate problems of life, or revealed in +each other's presence the existence of any deep feeling. + +Something beyond the power of word-analysis bound them together, +something hidden deep in the fibre of nations and families--for +blood, they say, is thicker than water--and neither of them was a +cold-blooded man. Indeed, in James love of his children was now +the prime motive of his existence. To have creatures who were +parts of himself, to whom he might transmit the money he saved, +was at the root of his saving; and, at seventy-five, what was +left that could give him pleasure, but--saving? The kernel of +life was in this saving for his children. + +Than James Forsyte, notwithstanding all his 'Jonah-isms,' there +was no saner man (if the leading symptom of sanity, as we are +told, is self-preservation, though without doubt Timothy went too +far) in all this London, of which he owned so much, and loved +with such a dumb love, as the centre of his opportunities. He +had the marvellous instinctive sanity of the middle class. In +him--more than in Jolyon, with his masterful will and his moments +of tenderness and philosophy--more than in Swithin, the martyr to +crankiness--Nicholas, the sufferer from ability--and Roger, the +victim of enterprise--beat the true pulse of compromise; of all +the brothers he was least remarkable in mind and person, and for +that reason more likely to live for ever. + +To James, more than to any of the others, was "the family" +significant and dear. There had always been something primitive +and cosy in his attitude towards life; he loved the family +hearth, he loved gossip, and he loved grumbling. All his +decisions were formed of a cream which he skimmed off the family +mind; and, through that family, off the minds of thousands of +other families of similar fibre. Year after year, week after +week, he went to Timothy's, and in his brother's front +drawing-room--his legs twisted, his long white whiskers framing +his clean-shaven mouth would sit watching the family pot simmer, +the cream rising to the top; and he would go away sheltered, +refreshed, comforted, with an indefinable sense of comfort. + +Beneath the adamant of his self-preserving instinct there was +much real softness in James; a visit to Timothy's was like an +hour spent in the lap of a mother; and the deep craving he +himself had for the protection of the family wing reacted in turn +on his feelings towards his own children; it was a nightmare to +him to think of them. exposed to the treatment of the world, in +money, health, or reputation. When his old friend John Street's +son volunteered for special service, he shook his head +querulously, and wondered what John Street was about to allow it; +and when young Street was assagaied, he took it so much to heart +that he made a point of calling everywhere with the special +object of saying: He knew how it would be--he'd no patience with +them! + +When his son-in-law Dartie had that financial crisis, due to +speculation in Oil Shares, James made himself ill worrying over +it; the knell of all prosperity seemed to have sounded. It took +him three months and a visit to Baden-Baden to get better; there +was something terrible in the idea that but for his, James's, +money, Dartie's name might have appeared in the Bankruptcy List. + +Composed of a physiological mixture so sound that if he had an +earache he thought he was dying, he regarded the occasional +ailments of his wife and children as in the nature of personal +grievances, special interventions of Providence for the purpose +of destroying his peace of mind; but he did not believe at all in +the ailments of people outside his own immediate family, +affirming them in every case to be due to neglected liver. + +His universal comment was: "What can they expect? I have it +myself, if I'm not careful!" + +When he went to Soames's that evening he felt that life was hard +on him: There was Emily with a bad toe, and Rachel gadding about +in the country; he got no sympathy from anybody; and Ann, she was +ill--he did not believe she would last through the summer; he had +called there three times now without her being able to see him! +And this idea of Soames's, building a house, that would have to +be looked into. As to the trouble with Irene, he didn't know +what was to come of that--anything might come of it! + +He entered 62, Montpellier Square with the fullest intentions of +being miserable. It was already half-past seven, and Irene, +dressed for dinner, was seated in the drawing-room. She was +wearing her gold-coloured frock--for, having been displayed at a +dinner-party, a soiree, and a dance, it was now to be worn at +home--and she had adorned the bosom with a cascade of lace, on +which James's eyes riveted themselves at once. + +"Where do you get your things?" he said in an aggravated voice. +"I never see Rachel and Cicely looking half so well. That +rose-point, now--that's not real!" + +Irene came close, to prove to him that he was in error. + +And, in spite of himself, James felt the influence of her +deference, of the faint seductive perfume exhaling from her. No +self-respecting Forsyte surrendered at a blow; so he merely said: +He didn't know--he expected she was spending a pretty penny on +dress. + +The gong sounded, and, putting her white arm within his, Irene +took him into the dining-room. She seated him in Soames's usual +place, round the corner on her left. The light fell softly +there, so that he would not be worried by the gradual dying of +the day; and she began to talk to him about himself. + +Presently, over James came a change, like the mellowing that +steals upon a fruit in the, sun; a sense of being caressed, and +praised, and petted, and all without the bestowal of a single +caress or word of praise. He felt that what he was eating was +agreeing with him; he could not get that feeling at home; he did +not know when he had enjoyed a glass of champagne so much, and, +on inquiring the brand and price, was surprised to find that it +was one of which he had a large stock himself, but could never +drink; he instantly formed the resolution to let his wine +merchant know that he had been swindled. + +Looking up from his food, he remarked: + +"You've a lot of nice things about the place. Now, what did you +give for that sugar-sifter? Shouldn't wonder if it was worth +money!" + +He was particularly pleased with the appearance of a picture, on +the wall opposite, which he himself had given them: + +"I'd no idea it was so good!" he said. + +They rose to go into the drawing-room, and James followed Irene +closely. + +"That's what I call a capital little dinner," he murmured, +breathing pleasantly down on her shoulder; "nothing heavy--and +not too Frenchified. But I can't get it at home. I pay my cook +sixty pounds a year, but she can't give me a dinner like that!" + +He had as yet made no allusion to the building of the house, nor +did he when Soames, pleading the excuse of business, betook +himself to the room at the top, where he kept his pictures. + +James was left alone with his daughter-in-law. The glow of the +wine, and of an excellent liqueur, was still within him. He felt +quite warm towards her. She was really a taking little thing; +she listened to you, and seemed to understand what you were +saying; and, while talking, he kept examining her figure, from +her bronze-coloured shoes to the waved gold of her hair. She was +leaning back in an Empire chair, her shoulders poised against the +top--her body, flexibly straight and unsupported from the hips, +swaying when she moved, as though giving to the arms of a lover. +Her lips were smiling, her eyes half-closed. + +It may have been a recognition of danger in the very charm of her +attitude, or a twang of digestion, that caused a sudden dumbness +to fall on James. He did not remember ever having, been quite +alone with Irene before. And, as he looked at her, an odd +feeling crept over him, as though he had come across something +strange and foreign. + +Now what was she thinking about--sitting back like that? + +Thus when he spoke it was in a sharper voice, as if he had been +awakened from a pleasant dream. + +"What d'you do with yourself all day?" he said. "You never come +round to Park Lane!" + +She seemed to be making very lame excuses, and James did not look +at her. He did not want to believe that she was really avoiding +them--it would mean too much. + +"I expect the fact is, you haven't time," he said; "You're always +about with June. I expect you're useful to her with her young +man, chaperoning, and one thing and another. They tell me she's +never at home now; your Uncle Jolyon he doesn't like it, I fancy, +being left so much alone as he is. They tell me she's always +hanging about for this young Bosinney; I suppose he comes here +every day. Now, what do you think of him? D'you think he knows +his own mind? He seems to me a poor thing. I should say the +grey mare was the better horse!" + +The colour deepened in Irene's face; and James watched her +suspiciously. + +"Perhaps you don't quite understand Mr. Bosinney," she said. + +"Don't understand him!" James humied out: "Why not?--you can see +he's one of these artistic chaps. They say he's clever--they all +think they're clever. You know more about him than I do," he +added; and again his suspicious glance rested on her. + +"He is designing a house for Soames," she said softly, evidently +trying to smooth things over. + +"That brings me to what I was going to say," continued James; "I +don't know what Soames wants with a young man like that; why +doesn't he go to a first-rate man?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Bosinney is first-rate!" + +James rose, and took a turn with bent head. + +"That's it'," he said, "you young people, you all stick together; +you all think you know best!" + +Halting his tall, lank figure before her, he raised a finger, and +levelled it at her bosom, as though bringing an indictment +against her beauty: + +"All I can say is, these artistic people, or whatever they call +themselves, they're as unreliable as they can be; and my advice +to you is, don't you have too much to do with him!" + +Irene smiled; and in the curve of her lips was a strange +provocation. She seemed to have lost her deference. Her breast +rose and fell as though with secret anger; she drew her hands +inwards from their rest on the arms of her chair until the tips +of her fingers met, and her dark eyes looked unfathomably at +James. + +The latter gloomily scrutinized the floor. + +"I tell you my opinion," he said, "it's a pity you haven't got a +child to think about, and occupy you!" + +A brooding look came instantly on Irene's face, and even James +became conscious of the rigidity that took possession of her +whole figure beneath the softness of its silk and lace clothing. + +He was frightened by the effect he had produced, and like most +men with but little courage, he sought at once to justify himself +by bullying. + +"You don't seem to care about going about. Why don't you drive +down to Hurlingham with us? And go to the theatre now and then. +At your time of life you ought to take an interest in things. +You're a young woman!" + +The brooding look darkened on her face; he grew nervous. + +"Well, I know nothing about it," he said; "nobody tells me +anything. Soames ought to be able to take care of himself. If +he can't take care of himself he mustn't look to me--that's all." + +Biting the corner of his forefinger he stole a cold, sharp look +at his daughter-in-law. + +He encountered her eyes fixed on his own, so dark and deep, that +he stopped, and broke into a gentle perspiration. + +"Well, I must be going," he said after a short pause, and a +minute later rose, with a slight appearance of surprise, as +though he had expected to be asked to stop. Giving his hand to +Irene, he allowed himself to be conducted to the door, and let +out into the street. He would not have a cab, he would walk, +Irene was to say good-night to Soames for him, and if she wanted +a little gaiety, well, he would drive her down to Richmond any +day. + +He walked home, and going upstairs, woke Emily out of the first +sleep she had had for four and twenty hours, to tell her that it +was his impression things were in a bad way at Soames's; on this +theme he descanted for half an hour, until at last, saying that +he would not sleep a wink, he turned on his side and instantly +began to snore. + +In Montpellier Square Soames, who had come from the picture room, +stood invisible at the top of the stairs, watching Irene sort the +letters brought by the last post. She turned back into the +drawing-room; but in a minute came out, and stood as if +listening. Then she came stealing up the stairs, with a kitten +in her arms. He could see her face bent over the little beast, +which was purring against her neck. Why couldn't she look at him +like that? + +Suddenly she saw him, and her face changed. + +"Any letters for me?" he said. + +"Three." + +He stood aside, and without another word she passed on into the +bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OLD JOLYON'S PECCADILLO + + +Old Jolyon came out of Lord's cricket ground that same afternoon +with the intention of going home. He had not reached Hamilton +Terrace before he changed his mind, and hailing a cab, gave the +driver an address in Wistaria Avenue. He had taken a resolution. + +June had hardly been at home at all that week; she had given him +nothing of her company for a long time past, not, in fact, since +she had become engaged to Bosinney. He never asked her for her +company. It was not his habit to ask people for things! She had +just that one idea now--Bosinney and his affairs--and she left +him stranded in his great house, with a parcel of servants, and +not a soul to speak to from morning to night. His Club was +closed for cleaning; his Boards in recess; there was nothing, +therefore, to take him into the City. June had wanted him to go +away; she would not go herself, because Bosinney was in London. + +But where was he to go by himself? He could not go abroad alone; +the sea upset his liver; he hated hotels. Roger went to a +hydropathic--he was--not going to begin that at his time of life, +those new-fangled places we're all humbug! + +With such formulas he clothed to himself the desolation of his +spirit; the lines down his face deepening, his eyes day by day +looking forth with the melancholy which sat so strangely on a +face wont to be strong and serene. + +And so that afternoon he took this journey through St. John's +Wood, in the golden-light that sprinkled the rounded green bushes +of the acacia's before the little houses, in the summer sunshine +that seemed holding a revel over the little gardens; and he +looked about him with interest; for this was a district which no +Forsyte entered without open disapproval and secret curiosity. + +His cab stopped in front of a small house of that peculiar buff +colour which implies a long immunity from paint. It had an outer +gate, and a rustic approach. + +He stepped out, his bearing extremely composed; his massive head, +with its drooping moustache and wings of white hair, very +upright, under an excessively large top hat; his glance firm, a +little angry. He had been driven into this! + +"Mrs. Jolyon Forsyte at home?" + +"Oh, yes sir!--what name shall I say, if you please, sir?" + +Old Jolyon could not help twinkling at the little maid as he gave +his name. She seemed to him such a funny little toad! + +And he followed her through the dark hall, into a small double, +drawing-room, where the furniture was covered in chintz, and the +little maid placed him in a chair. + +"They're all in the garden, sir; if you'll kindly take a seat, +I'll tell them." + +Old Jolyon sat down in the chintz-covered chair, and looked +around him. The whole place seemed to him, as he would have +expressed it, pokey; there was a certain--he could not tell +exactly what--air of shabbiness, or rather of making two ends +meet, about everything. As far as he could see, not a single +piece of furniture was worth a five-pound note. The walls, +distempered rather a long time ago, were decorated with +water-colour sketches; across the ceiling meandered a long crack. + +These little houses were all old, second-rate concerns; he should +hope the rent was under a hundred a year; it hurt him more than +he could have said, to think of a Forsyte--his own son living in +such a place. + +The little maid came back. Would he please to go down into the +garden? + +Old Jolyon marched out through the French windows. In descending +the steps he noticed that they wanted painting. + +Young Jolyon, his wife, his two children, and his dog Balthasar, +were all out there under a pear-tree. + +This walk towards them was the most courageous act of old +Jolyon's life; but no muscle of his face moved, no nervous +gesture betrayed him. He kept his deep-set eyes steadily on the +enemy. + +In those two minutes he demonstrated to perfection all that +unconscious soundness, balance, and vitality of fibre that made, +of him and so many others of his class the core of the nation. +In the unostentatious conduct of their own affairs, to the +neglect of everything else, they typified the essential +individualism, born in the Briton from the natural isolation of +his country's life. + +The dog Balthasar sniffed round the edges of his trousers; this +friendly and cynical mongrel offspring of a liaison between a +Russian poodle and a fox-terrier--had a nose for the unusual. + +The strange greetings over, old Jolyon seated himself in a wicker +chair, and his two grandchildren, one on each side of his knees, +looked at him silently, never having seen so old a man. + +They were unlike, as though recognising the difference set +between them by the circumstances of their births. Jolly, the +child of sin, pudgy-faced, with his tow-coloured hair brushed off +his forehead, and a dimple in his chin, had an air of stubborn +amiability, and the eyes of a Forsyte; little Holly, the child of +wedlock, was a dark-skinned, solemn soul, with her mother's, grey +and wistful eyes. + +The dog Balthasar, having walked round the three small flower- +beds, to show his extreme contempt for things at large, had also +taken a seat in front of old Jolyon, and, oscillating a tail +curled by Nature tightly over his back, was staring up with +eyes that did not blink. + +Even in the garden, that sense of things being pokey haunted old +Jolyon; the wicker chair creaked under his weight; the +garden-beds looked 'daverdy'; on the far side, under the smut- +stained wall, cats had made a path. + +While he and his grandchildren thus regarded each other with the +peculiar scrutiny, curious yet trustful, that passes between the +very young and the very old, young Jolyon watched his wife. + +The colour had deepened in her thin, oval face, with its straight +brows, and large, grey eyes. Her hair, brushed in fine, high +curves back from her forehead, was going grey, like his own, and +this greyness made the sudden vivid colour in her cheeks +painfully pathetic. + +The look on her face, such as he had never seen there before, +such as she had always hidden from him, was full of secret +resentments, and longings, and fears. Her eyes, under their +twitching brows, stared painfully. And she was silent. + +Jolly alone sustained the conversation; he had many possessions, +and was anxious that his unknown friend with extremely large +moustaches, and hands all covered with blue veins, who sat with +legs crossed like his own father (a habit he was himself trying +to acquire), should know it; but being a Forsyte, though not yet +quite eight years old, he made no mention of the thing at the +moment dearest to his heart--a camp of soldiers in a shop-window, +which his father had promised to buy. No doubt it seemed to him +too precious; a tempting of Providence to mention it yet. + +And the sunlight played through the leaves on that little party +of the three generations grouped tranquilly under the pear-tree, +which had long borne no fruit. + +Old Jolyon's furrowed face was reddening patchily, as old men's +faces redden in the sun. He took one of Jolly's hands in his +own; the boy climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized +by this sight, crept up to them; the sound of the dog Balthasar's +scratching arose rhythmically. + +Suddenly young Mrs. Jolyon got up and hurried indoors. A minute +later her husband muttered an excuse, and followed. Old Jolyon +was left alone with his grandchildren. + +And Nature with her quaint irony began working in him one of her +strange revolutions, following her cyclic laws into the depths of +his heart. And that tenderness for little children, that passion +for the beginnings of life which had once made him forsake his +son and follow June, now worked in him to forsake June and follow +these littler things. Youth, like a flame, burned ever in his +breast, and to youth he turned, to the round little limbs, so +reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so +unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the +shrill, chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and +the feel of small bodies against his legs, to all that was young +and young, and once more young. And his eyes grew soft, his +voice, and thin-veined hands soft, and soft his heart within him. +And to those small creatures he became at once a place of +pleasure, a place where they were secure, and could talk and +laugh and play; till, like sunshine, there radiated from old +Jolyon's wicker chair the perfect gaiety of three hearts. + +But with young Jolyon following to his wife's room it was +different. + +He found her seated on a chair before her dressing-glass, with +her hands before her face. + +Her shoulders were shaking with sobs. This passion of hers for +suffering was mysterious to him. He had been through a hundred +of these moods; how he had survived them he never knew, for he +could never believe they were moods, and that the last hour of +his partnership had not struck. + +In the night she would be sure to throw her o arms round, his +neck and say: "Oh! Jo, how I make you suffer!" as she had done a +hundred times before. + +He reached out his hand, and, unseen, slipped his razor-case into +his pocket. +'I cannot stay here,' he thought, 'I must go down!' Without a +word he left the room, and went back to the lawn. + +Old Jolyon had little Holly on his knee; she had taken possession +of his watch; Jolly, very red in the face, was trying to show +that he could stand on his head. The dog Balthasar, as close as +he might be to the tea-table, had fixed his eyes on the cake. + +Young Jolyon felt a malicious desire to cut their enjoyment +short. + +What business had his father to come and upset his wife like +this? It was a shock, after all these years! He ought to have +known; he ought to have given them warning; but when did a +Forsyte ever imagine that his conduct could upset anybody! And +in his thoughts he did old Jolyon wrong. + +He spoke sharply to the children, and told them to go in to their +tea. Greatly surprised, for they had never heard their father +speak sharply before, they went off, hand in hand, little Holly +looking back over her shoulder. + +Young Jolyon poured out the tea. + +"My wife's not the thing today," he said, but he knew well enough +that his father had penetrated the cause of that sudden +withdrawal, and almost hated the old man for sitting there so +calmly. + +"You've got a nice little house here," said old Jolyon with a +shrewd look; "I suppose you've taken a lease of it!" + +Young Jolyon nodded. + +"I don't like the neighbourhood," said old Jolyon; "a ramshackle +lot." + +Young Jolyon replied: "Yes, we're a ramshackle lot."' + +The silence was now only broken by the sound of the dog +Balthasar's scratching. + +Old Jolyon said simply: "I suppose I oughtn't to have come here, +Jo; but I get so lonely!" + +At these words young Jolyon got up and put his hand on his +father's shoulder. + +In the next house someone was playing over and over again: 'La +Donna mobile' on an untuned piano; and the little garden had +fallen into shade, the sun now only reached the wall at the end, +whereon basked a crouching cat, her yellow eyes turned sleepily +down on the dog Balthasar. There was a drowsy hum of very +distant traffic; the creepered trellis round the garden shut out +everything but sky, and house, and pear-tree, with its top +branches still gilded by the sun. + +For some time they sat there, talking but little. Then old +Jolyon rose to go, and not a word was said about his coming +again. + +He walked away very sadly. What a poor miserable place; and he +thought of the great, empty house in Stanhope Gate, fit residence +for a Forsyte, with its huge billiard-room and drawing-room that +no one entered from one week's end to another. + +That woman, whose face he had rather liked, was too thin-skinned +by half; she gave Jo a bad time he knew! And those sweet +children! Ah! what a piece of awful folly! + +He walked towards the Edgware Road, between rows of little +houses, all suggesting to him (erroneously no doubt, but the +prejudices of a Forsyte are sacred) shady histories of some sort +or kind. + +Society, forsooth, the chattering hags and jackanapes--had set +themselves up to pass judgment on his flesh and blood! A parcel +of old women! He stumped his umbrella on the ground, as though +to drive it into the heart of that unfortunate body, which had +dared to ostracize his son and his son's son, in whom he could +have lived again! + +He stumped his umbrella fiercely; yet he himself had followed +Society's behaviour for fifteen years--had only today been false +to it! + +He thought of June, and her dead mother, and the whole story, +with all his old bitterness. A wretched business! + +He was a long time reaching Stanhope Gate, for, with native +perversity, being extremely tired, he walked the whole way. + +After washing his hands in the lavatory downstairs, he went to +the dining-room to wait for dinner, the only room he used when +June was out--it was less lonely so. The evening paper had not +yet come; he had finished the Times, there was therefore nothing +to do. + +The room faced the backwater of traffic, and was very silent. He +disliked dogs, but a dog even would have been company. His gaze, +travelling round the walls, rested on a 'picture entitled: 'Group +of Dutch fishing boats at sunset; the chef d'oeuvre of his +collection. It gave him no pleasure. He closed his eyes. He +was lonely! He oughtn't to complain, he knew, but he couldn't +help it: He was a poor thing--had always been a poor thing--no +pluck! Such was his thought. + +The butler came to lay the table for dinner, and seeing his +master apparently asleep, exercised extreme caution in his +movements. This bearded man also wore a moustache, which had +given rise to grave doubts in the minds of many members--of the +family--, especially those who, like Soames, had been to public +schools, and were accustomed to niceness in such matters. Could +he really be considered a butler? Playful spirits alluded to him +as: 'Uncle Jolyon's Nonconformist'; George, the acknowledged wag, +had named him: 'Sankey.' + +He moved to and fro between the great polished sideboard and the +great polished table inimitably sleek and soft. + +Old Jolyon watched him, feigning sleep. The fellow was a sneak-- +he had always thought so--who cared about nothing but rattling +through his work, and getting out to his betting or his woman or +goodness knew what! A slug! Fat too! And didn't care a pin +about his master! + +But then against his will, came one of those moments of +philosophy which made old Jolyon different from other Forsytes: + +After all why should the man care? He wasn't paid to care, and +why expect it? In this world people couldn't look for affection +unless they paid for it. It might be different in the next--he +didn't know--couldn't tell! And again he shut his eyes. + +Relentless and stealthy, the butler pursued his labours, taking +things from the various compartments of the sideboard. His back +seemed always turned to old Jolyon; thus, he robbed his +operations of the unseemliness of being carried on in his +master's presence; now and then he furtively breathed on the +silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather. He +appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, +which he carried carefully and rather high, letting his heard +droop over them protectingly. When he had finished, he stood for +over a minute watching his master, and in his greenish eyes there +was a look of contempt: + +After all, this master of his was an old buffer, who hadn't much +left in him! + +Soft as a tom-cat, he crossed the room to press the bell. His +orders were 'dinner at seven.' What if his master were asleep; he +would soon have him out of that; there was the night to sleep in! +He had himself to think of, for he was due at his Club at +half-past eight! + +In answer to the ring, appeared a page boy with a silver soup +tureen. The butler took it from his hands and placed it on the. +table, then, standing by the open door, as though about to usher +company into the room, he said in a solemn voice: + +"Dinner is on the table, sir!" + +Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the +table to eat his dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +PLANS OF THE HOUSE + + +Forsytes, as is generally admitted, have shells, like that +extremely useful little animal which is made into Turkish +delight, in other words, they are never seen, or if seen would +not be recognised, without habitats, composed of circumstance, +property, acquaintances, and wives, which seem to move along with +them in their passage through a world composed of thousands of +other Forsytes with their habitats. Without a habitat a Forsyte +is inconceivable--he would be like a novel without a plot, which +is well-known to be an anomaly. + +To Forsyte eyes Bosinney appeared to have no habitat, he seemed +one of those rare and unfortunate men who go through life +surrounded by circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives +that do not belong to them. + +His rooms in Sloane Street, on the top floor, outside which, on a +plate, was his name, 'Philip Baynes Bosinney, Architect,' were +not those of a Forsyte.--He had no sitting-room apart from his +office, but a large recess had been screened off to conceal the +necessaries of life--a couch, an easy chair, his pipes, spirit +case, novels and slippers. The business part of the room had the +usual furniture; an open cupboard with pigeon-holes, a round oak +table, a folding wash-stand, some hard chairs, a standing desk of +large dimensions covered with drawings and designs. June had +twice been to tea there under the chaperonage of his aunt. + +He was believed to have a bedroom at the back. + +As far as the family had been able to ascertain his income, it +consisted of two consulting appointments at twenty pounds a year, +together with an odd fee once in a way, and--more worthy item--a +private annuity under his father's will of one hundred and fifty +pounds a year. + +What had transpired concerning that father was not so reassuring. +It appeared that he had been a Lincolnshire country doctor of +Cornish extraction, striking appearance, and Byronic tendencies-- +a well-known figure, in fact, in his county. Bosinney's uncle by +marriage, Baynes, of Baynes and Bildeboy, a Forsyte in instincts +if not in name, had but little that was worthy to relate of his +brother-in-law. + +"An odd fellow!' he would say: 'always spoke of his three eldest +boys as 'good creatures, but so dull'; they're all doing +capitally in the Indian Civil! Philip was the only one he liked. +I've heard him talk in the queerest way; he once said to me: 'My +dear fellow, never let your poor wife know what you're thinking +of! But I didn't follow his advice; not I! An eccentric man! +He would say to Phil: 'Whether you live like a gentleman or not, +my boy, be sure you die like one! and he had himself embalmed in +a frock coat suit, with a satin cravat and a diamond pin. Oh, +quite an original, I can assure you I" + +Of Bosinney himself Baynes would speak warmly, with a certain +compassion: "He's got a streak of his father's Byronism. Why, +look at the way he threw up his chances when he left my office; +going off like that for six months with a knapsack, and all for +what?--to study foreign architecture--foreign! What could he +expect? And there he is--a clever young fellow--doesn't make his +hundred a year! Now this engagement is the best thing that could +have happened--keep him steady; he's one of those that go to bed +all day and stay up all night, simply because they've no method; +but no vice about him--not an ounce of vice. Old Forsyte's a +rich man!" + +Mr. Baynes made himself extremely pleasant to June, who +frequently visited his house in Lowndes Square at this period. + +"This house of your cousin's--what a capital man of business--is +the very thing for Philip," he would say to her; "you mustn't +expect to see too much of him just now, my dear young lady. The +good cause--the good cause! The young man must make his way. +When I was his age I was at work day and night. My dear wife +used to say to me, 'Bobby, don't work too hard, think of your +health'; but I never spared myself!" + +June had complained that her lover found no time to come to +Stanhope Gate. + +The first time he came again they had not been together a quarter +of an hour before, by one of those coincidences of which she was +a mistress, Mrs. Septimus Small arrived. Thereon Bosinney rose +and hid himself, according to previous arrangement, in the little +study, to wait for her departure. + +"My dear," said Aunt Juley, "how thin he is! I've often noticed +it with engaged people; but you mustn't let it get worse. +There's Barlow's extract of veal; it did your Uncle Swithin a lot +of good." + +June, her little figure erect before the hearth, her small face +quivering grimly, for she regarded her aunt's untimely visit in +the light of a personal injury, replied with scorn: + +"It's because he's busy; people who can do anything worth doing +are never fat!" + +Aunt Juley pouted; she herself had always been thin, but the only +pleasure she derived from the fact was the opportunity of longing +to be stouter. + +I don't think," she said mournfully, "that you ought to let them +call him 'The Buccaneer'; people might think it odd, now that +he's going to build a house for Soames. I do hope he will be +careful; it's so important for him. Soames has such good taste!" + +"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for +his taste, or any of the family's!" + +Mrs. Small was taken aback. + +"Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And +Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't +think so!" + +"H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!" + +Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: + +"And how will dear Irene like living in the country?" + +June gazed at her intently, with a look in her eyes as if her +conscience had suddenly leaped up into them; it passed; and an +even more intent look took its place, as if she had stared that +conscience out of countenance. She replied imperiously: + +"Of course she'll like it; why shouldn't she?" + +Mrs. Small grew nervous. + +"I didn't know," she said; "I thought she mightn't like to leave +her friends. Your Uncle James says she doesn't take enough +interest in life. We think--I mean Timothy thinks--she ought to +go out more. I expect you'll miss her very much!" + +June clasped her hands behind her neck. + +"I do wish, "she cried, "Uncle Timothy wouldn't talk about what +doesn't concern him!" + +Aunt Juley rose to the full height of her tall figure. + +"He never talks about what doesn't concern him," she said. + +June was instantly compunctious; she ran to her aunt and kissed +her. + +"I'm very sorry, auntie; but I wish they'd let Irene alone." + +Aunt Juley, unable to think of anything further on the subject +that would be suitable, was silent; she prepared for departure, +hooking her black silk cape across her chest, and, taking up her +green reticule: + +"And how is your dear grandfather?" she asked in the hall, "I +expect he's very lonely now that all your time is taken up with +Mr. Bosinney." + +She bent and kissed her niece hungrily, and with little, mincing +steps passed away. + +The tears sprang up in June's eyes; running into the little +study, where Bosinney was sitting at the table drawing birds on +the back of an envelope, she sank down, by his side and cried: + +"Oh, Phil! it's all so horrid!" Her heart was as warm as the +colour of her hair. + +On the following Sunday morning, while Soames was shaving, a +message was brought him to the effect that Mr. Bosinney was +below, and would be glad to see him. Opening the door into his +wife's room, he said: + +"Bosinney's downstairs. Just go and entertain him while I finish +shaving. I'll be down in a minute. It's about the plans, I +expect." + +Irene looked at him, without reply, put the finishing touch to +her dress and went downstairs. He could not make her out about +this house. She had said nothing against it, and, as far as +Bosinney was concerned, seemed friendly enough. + +From the window of his dressing-room he could see them talking +together in the little court below. He hurried on with his +shaving, cutting his chin twice. He heard them laugh, and +thought to himself: "Well, they get on all right, anyway!" + +As he expected, Bosinney had come round to fetch, him to look at +the plans. + +He took his hat and went over. + +The plans were spread on the oak table in the architect's room; +and pale, imperturbable, inquiring, Soames bent over them for a +long time without speaking. + +He said at last in a puzzled voice: + +"It's an odd sort of house!" + +A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle +round a covered-in court. This court, encircled by a gallery on +the upper floor, was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight +columns running up from the ground. + +It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house. + +"There's a lot of room cut to waste," pursued Soames. + +Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the +expression on his face. + +"The principle of this house," said the architect, "was that you +should have room to breathe--like a gentleman!" + +Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent +of the distinction he should acquire; and replied: + +"Oh! yes; I see." + +The peculiar look came into Bosinney's face which marked all, his +enthusiasms. + +"I've tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of +its own. If you don't like it, you'd better say so. It's +certainly the last thing to be considered--who wants self-respect +in a house, when you can squeeze in an extra lavatory?" He put +his finger suddenly down on the left division of the centre +oblong: "You can swing a cat here. This is for your pictures, +divided from this court by curtains; draw them back and you'll +have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six. This double-faced +stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, one +way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; You've +a southeast light from that, a north light from the court. The +rest of your pictures you can hang round the gallery upstairs, or +in the other rooms." "In architecture," he went on--and though +looking at Soames he did not seem to see him, which gave Soames +an unpleasant feeling--"as in life, you'll get no self-respect +without regularity. Fellows tell you that's old fashioned. It +appears to be peculiar any way; it never occurs to us to embody +the main principle of life in our buildings; we load our houses +with decoration, gimcracks, corners, anything to distract the +eye. On the contrary the eye should rest; get your effects with +a few strong lines. The whole thing is regularity there's no +self-respect without it." + +Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinney's +tie, which was far from being in the perpendicular; he was +unshaven too, and his dress not remarkable for order. +Architecture appeared to have exhausted his regularity. + +"Won't it look like a barrack?" he inquired. + +He did not at once receive a reply. + +"I can see what it is," said Bosinney, "you want one of Little- +master's houses--one of the pretty and commodious sort, where the +servants will live in garrets, and the front door be sunk so that +you may come up again. By all means try Littlemaster, you'll +find him a capital fellow, I've known him all my life!" + +Soames was alarmed. He had really been struck by the plans, and +the concealment of his satisfaction had been merely instinctive. +It was difficult for him to pay a compliment. He despised people +who were lavish with their praises. + +He found himself now in the embarrassing position of one who must +pay a compliment or run the risk of losing a good thing. +Bosinney was just the fellow who might tear up the plans and +refuse to act for him; a kind of grown-up child! + +This grown-up childishness, to which he felt so superior, +exercised a peculiar and almost mesmeric effect on Soames, for he +had never felt anything like it in himself. + +"Well," he stammered at last, "it's--it's, certainly original." + +He had such a private distrust and even dislike of the word-- +'original' that he felt he had not really given himself away by +this remark. + +Bosinney seemed pleased. It was the sort of thing that would +please a fellow like that! And his success encouraged Soames. + +"It's--a big place," he said. + +"Space, air, light," he heard Bosinney murmur, "you can't live +like a gentleman in one of Littlemaster's--he builds for +manufacturers." + +Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a +gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed +with manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general +principles revived. What the deuce was the good of talking about +regularity and self-respect? It looked to him as if the house +would be cold. + +"Irene can't stand the cold!" he said. + +"Ah!" said Bosinney sarcastically. "Your wife? She doesn't like +the cold? I'll see to that; she shan't be cold. Look here!" he +pointed, to four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the +court. "I've given you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you +can get them with very good designs." + +Soames looked suspiciously at these marks. + +"It's all very well, all this," he said, "but what's it going to +cost?" + +The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket: + +"The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as +I thought you wouldn't stand that, I've compromised for a facing. +It ought to have a copper roof, but I've made it green slate. As +it is, including metal work, it'll cost you eight thousand five +hundred." + +"Eight thousand five hundred?" said Soames. "Why, I gave you an +outside limit of eight!" + +"Can't be done for a penny less," replied Bosinney coolly. + +"You must take it or leave it!" + +It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have +been made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to +throw the whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew +it--there was completeness about it, and dignity; the servants' +apartments were excellent too. He would gain credit by living in +a house like that--with such individual features, yet perfectly. +well-arranged. + +He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his +bedroom to shave and dress. + +The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames +watching him out of the corner of his eye. + +The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow--so he thought-- +when he was properly got up. + +Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in. + +She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June. + +"No, no," said Soames, "we've still got business to talk over!" + +At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to +eat. He was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, +and left him to spend the afternoon with Irene, while he stole +off to his pictures, after his Sunday habit. At tea-time he came +down to the drawing-room, and found them talking, as he expressed +it, nineteen to the dozen. + +Unobserved in the doorway, he congratulated himself that things +were taking the right turn. It was lucky she and Bosinney got +on; she seemed to be falling into line with the idea of the new +house. + +Quiet meditation among his pictures had decided him to spring the +five hundred if necessary; but he hoped that the afternoon might +have softened Bosinney's estimates. It was so purely a matter +which Bosinney could remedy if he liked; there must be a dozen +ways in which he could cheapen the production of a house without +spoiling the effect. + +He awaited, therefore, his opportunity till Irene was handing the +architect his first cup of tea. A chink of sunshine through the +lace of the blinds warmed her cheek, shone in the gold of her +hair, and in her soft eyes. Possibly the same gleam deepened +Bosinney's colour, gave the rather startled look to his face. + +Soames hated sunshine, and he at once got up, to draw the blind. +Then he took his own cup of tea from his wife, and said, more +coldly than he had intended: + +"Can't you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? +There must be a lot of little things you could alter." + +Bosinney drank off his tea at a gulp, put down his cup, and +answered: + +"Not one!" + +Soames saw that his suggestion had touched some unintelligible +point of personal vanity. + +"Well," he agreed, with sulky resignation; "you must have it your +own way, I suppose." + +A few minutes later Bosinney rose to go, and Soames rose too, to +see him off the premises. The architect seemed in absurdly high +spirits. After watching him walk away at a swinging pace, Soames +returned moodily to the drawing-room, where Irene was putting +away the music, and, moved by an uncontrollable spasm of +curiosity, he asked: + +"Well, what do you think of 'The Buccaneer'?" + +He looked at the carpet while waiting for her answer, and he had +to wait some time. + +"I don't know," she said at last. + +"Do you think he's good-looking?" + +Irene smiled. And it seemed to Soames that she was mocking him. + +"Yes," she answered; "very." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DEATH OF AUNT ANN + + +There came a morning at the end of September when Aunt Ann was +unable to take from Smither's hands the insignia of personal +dignity. After one look at the old face, the doctor, hurriedly +sent for, announced that Miss Forsyte had passed away in her +sleep. + +Aunts Juley and Hester were overwhelmed by the shock. They had +never imagined such an ending. Indeed, it is doubtful whether +they had ever realized that an ending was bound to come. +Secretly they felt it unreasonable of Ann to have left them like +this without a word, without even a struggle. It was unlike her. + +Perhaps what really affected them so profoundly was the thought +that a Forsyte should have let go her grasp on life. If one, +then why not all! + +It was a full hour before they could make up their minds to tell +Timothy. If only it could be kept from him! If only it could be +broken to him by degrees! + +And long they stood outside his door whispering together. And +when it was over they whispered together again. + +He would feel it more, they were afraid, as time went on. Still, +he had taken it better than could have been expected. He would +keep his bed, of course! + +They separated, crying quietly. + +Aunt Juley stayed in her room, prostrated by the blow. Her face, +discoloured by tears, was divided into compartments by the little +ridges of pouting flesh which had swollen with emotion. It was +impossible to conceive of life without Ann, who had lived with +her for seventy-three years, broken only by the short interregnum +of her married life, which seemed now so unreal. At fixed +intervals she went to her drawer, and took from beneath the +lavender bags a fresh pocket-handkerchief. Her warm heart could +not bear the thought that Ann was lying there so cold. + +Aunt Hester, the silent, the patient, that backwater of the +family energy, sat in the drawing-room, where the blinds were +drawn; and she, too, had wept at first, but quietly, without +visible effect. Her guiding principle, the conservation of +energy, did not abandon her in sorrow. She sat, slim, +motionless, studying the grate, her hands idle in the lap of her +black silk dress. They would want to rouse her into doing +something, no doubt. As if there were any good in that! Doing +something would not bring back Ann! Why worry her? + +Five o'clock brought three of the brothers, Jolyon and James and +Swithin; Nicholas was at Yarmouth, and Roger had a bad attack of +gout. Mrs. Hayman had been by herself earlier in the day, and, +after seeing Ann, had gone away, leaving a message for Timothy-- +which was kept from him--that she ought to have been told sooner. +In fact, there was a feeling amongst them all that they ought to +have been told sooner, as though they had missed something; and +James said: + +"I knew how it'd be; I told you she wouldn't last through the +summer." + +Aunt Hester made no reply; it was nearly October, but what was +the good of arguing; some people were never satisfied. + +She sent up to tell her sister that the brothers were there. +Mrs. Small came down at once. She had bathed her face, which was +still swollen, and though she looked severely at Swithin's +trousers, for they were of light blue--he had come straight from +the club, where the news had reached him she wore a more cheerful +expression than usual, the instinct for doing the wrong thing +being even now too strong for her. + +Presently all five went up to look at the body. Under the pure +white sheet a quilted counter-pane had been placed, for now, more +than ever, Aunt Ann had need of warmth; and, the pillows removed, +her spine and head rested flat, with the semblance of their +life-long inflexibility; the coif banding the top of her brow was +drawn on either side to the level of the ears, and between it and +the sheet her face, almost as white, was turned with closed eyes +to the faces of her brothers and sisters. In its extraordinary +peace the face was stronger than ever, nearly all bone now under +the scarce-wrinkled parchment of skin--square jaw and chin, +cheekbones, forehead with hollow temples, chiselled nose--the +fortress of an unconquerable spirit that had yielded to death, +and in its upward sightlessness seemed trying to regain that +spirit, to regain the guardianship it had just laid down. + +Swithin took but one look at the face, and left the room; the +sight, he said afterwards, made him very queer. He went +downstairs shaking the whole house, and, seizing his hat, +clambered into his brougham, without giving any directions to the +coachman. He was driven home, and all the evening sat in his +chair without moving. + +He could take nothing for dinner but a partridge, with an +imperial pint of champagne.... + +Old Jolyon stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands folded in +front of him. He alone of those in the room remembered the death +of his mother, and though he looked at Ann, it was of that he was +thinking. Ann was an old woman, but death had come to her at +last--death came to all! His face did not move, his gaze seemed +travelling from very far. + +Aunt Hester stood beside him. She did not cry now, tears were +exhausted--her nature refused to permit a further escape of +force; she twisted her hands, looking not at Ann, but from side +to side, seeking some way of escaping the effort of realization. + +Of all the brothers and sisters James manifested the most +emotion. Tears rolled down the parallel furrows of his thin +face; where he should go now to tell his troubles he did not +know; Juley was no good, Hester worse than useless! He felt +Ann's death more than he had ever thought he should; this would +upset him for weeks! + +Presently Aunt Hester stole out, and Aunt Juley began moving +about, doing 'what was necessary,' so that twice she knocked +against something. Old Jolyon, roused from his reverie, that +reverie of the long, long past, looked sternly at her, and went +away. James alone was left by the bedside; glancing stealthily +round, to see that he was not observed, he twisted his long body +down, placed a kiss on the dead forehead, then he, too, hastily +left the room. Encountering Smither in the hall, he began to ask +her about the funeral, and, finding that she knew nothing, +complained bitterly that, if they didn't take care, everything +would go wrong. She had better send for Mr. Soames--he knew all +about that sort of thing; her master was very much upset, he +supposed--he would want looking after; as for her mistresses, +they were no good--they had no gumption! They would be ill too, +he shouldn't wonder. She had better send for the doctor; it was +best to take things in time. He didn't think his sister Ann had +had the best opinion; if she'd had Blank she would have been +alive now. Smither might send to Park Lane any time she wanted +advice. Of course, his carriage was at their service for the +funeral. He supposed she hadn't such a thing as a glass of +claret and a biscuit--he had had no lunch! + +The days before the funeral passed quietly. It had long been +known, of course, that Aunt Ann had left her little property to +Timothy. There was, therefore, no reason for the slightest +agitation. Soames, who was sole executor, took charge of all +arrangements, and in due course sent out the following invitation +to every male member of the family: + + +To........... + +Your presence is requested at the funeral of Miss Ann Forsyte, in +Highgate Cemetery, at noon of Oct. 1st. Carriages will meet at +"The Bower," Bayswater Road, at 10.45. No flowers by request. + +'R.S.V.P.' + + +The morning came, cold, with a high, grey, London sky, and at +half-past ten the first carriage, that of James, drove up. It +contained James and his son-in-law Dartie, a fine man, with a +square chest, buttoned very tightly into a frock coat, and a +sallow, fattish face adorned with dark, well-curled moustaches, +and that incorrigible commencement of whisker which, eluding the +strictest attempts at shaving, seems the mark of something deeply +ingrained in the personality of the shaver, being especially +noticeable in men who speculate. + +Soames, in his capacity of executor, received the guests, for +Timothy still kept his bed; he would get up after the funeral; +and Aunts Juley and Hester would not be coming down till all was +over, when it was understood there would be lunch for anyone who +cared to come back. The next to arrive was Roger, still limping +from the gout, and encircled by three of his sons--young Roger, +Eustace, and Thomas. George, the remaining son, arrived almost +immediately afterwards in a hansom, and paused in the hall to ask +Soames how he found undertaking pay. + +They disliked each other. + +Then came two Haymans--Giles and Jesse perfectly silent, and very +well dressed, with special creases down their evening trousers. +Then old Jolyon alone. Next, Nicholas, with a healthy colour in +his face, and a carefully veiled sprightliness in every movement +of his head and body. One of his sons followed him, meek and +subdued. Swithin Forsyte, and Bosinney arrived at the same +moment,--and stood--bowing precedence to each other,--but on the +door opening they tried to enter together; they renewed their +apologies in the hall, and, Swithin, settling his stock, which +had become disarranged in the struggle, very slowly mounted the +stairs. The other Hayman; two married sons of Nicholas, together +with Tweetyman, Spender, and Warry, the husbands of married +Forsyte and Hayman daughters. The company was then complete, +twenty-one in all, not a male member of the family being absent +but Timothy and young Jolyon. + +Entering the scarlet and green drawing-room, whose apparel made +so vivid a setting for their unaccustomed costumes, each tried +nervously to find a seat, desirous of hiding the emphatic +blackness of his trousers. There seemed a sort of indecency in +that blackness and in the colour of their gloves--a sort of +exaggeration of the feelings; and many cast shocked looks of +secret envy at 'the Buccaneer,' who had no gloves, and was +wearing grey trousers. A subdued hum of conversation rose, no +one speaking of the departed, but each asking after the other, as +though thereby casting an indirect libation to this event, which +they had come to honour. + +And presently James said: + +"Well, I think we ought to be starting." + +They went downstairs, and, two and two, as they had been told off +in strict precedence, mounted the carriages. + +The hearse started at a foot's pace; the carriages moved slowly +after. In the first went old Jolyon with Nicholas; in the +second, the twins, Swithin and James; in the third, Roger and +young Roger; Soames, young Nicholas, George, and Bosinney +followed in the fourth. Each of the other carriages, eight in +all, held three or four of the family; behind them came the +doctor's brougham; then, at a decent interval, cabs containing +family clerks and servants; and at the very end, one containing +nobody at all, but bringing the total cortege up to the number of +thirteen. + +So long as the procession kept to the highway of the Bayswater +Road, it retained the foot's-pace, but, turning into less +important thorough-fares, it soon broke into a trot, and so +proceeded, with intervals of walking in the more fashionable +streets, until it arrived. In the first carriage old Jolyon and +Nicholas were talking of their wills. In the second the twins, +after a single attempt, had lapsed into complete silence; both +were rather deaf, and the exertion of making themselves heard was +too great. Only once James broke this silence: + +"I shall have to be looking about for some ground somewhere. +What arrangements have you made, Swithin?" + +And Swithin, fixing him with a dreadful stare, answered: + +"Don't talk to me about such things!" + +In the third carriage a disjointed conversation was carried on in +the intervals of looking out to see how far they had got, George +remarking, "Well, it was really time that the poor old lady +went." He didn't believe in people living beyond seventy, Young +Nicholas replied mildly that the rule didn't seem to apply to the +Forsytes. George said he himself intended to commit suicide at +sixty. Young Nicholas, smiling and stroking A long chin, didn't +think his father would like that theory; he had made a lot of +money since he was sixty. Well, seventy was the outside limit; +it was then time, George said, for them to go and leave their +money to their children. Soames, hitherto silent, here joined +in; he had not forgotten the remark about the 'undertaking,' and, +lifting his eyelids almost imperceptibly, said it was all very +well for people who never made money to talk. He himself +intended to live as long as he could. This was a hit at George, +who was notoriously hard up. Bosinney muttered abstractedly +"Hear, hear!" and, George yawning, the conversation dropped. + +Upon arriving, the coffin was borne into the chapel, and, two by +two, the mourners filed in behind it. This guard of men, all +attached to the dead by the bond of kinship, was an impressive +and singular sight in the great city of London, with its +overwhelming diversity of life, its innumerable vocations, +pleasures, duties, its terrible hardness, its terrible call to +individualism. + +The family had gathered to triumph over all this, to give a show +of tenacious unity, to illustrate gloriously that law of property +underlying the growth of their tree, by which it had thriven and +spread, trunk and branches, the sap flowing through all, the full +growth reached at the appointed time. The spirit of the old +woman lying in her last sleep had called them to this +demonstration. It was her final appeal to that unity which had +been their strength--it was her final triumph that she had died +while the tree was yet whole. + +She was spared the watching of the branches jut out beyond the +point of balance. She could not look into the hearts of her +followers. The same law that had worked in her, bringing her up +from a tall, straight-backed slip of a girl to, a woman strong +and grown, from a woman grown to a woman old, angular, feeble, +almost witchlike, with individuality all sharpened and sharpened, +as all rounding from the world's contact fell off from her--that +same law would work, was: working, in the family she had watched +like a mother. + +She had seen it young, and growing, she had, seen it strong and +grown, and before her old eyes had time or strength to see any +more, she died. She would have tried, and who knows but she +might have kept it young and strong, with her old fingers, her +trembling kisses--a little longer; alas! not even Aunt Ann could +fight with Nature. + +'Pride comes before a fall!' In accordance with this, the +greatest of Nature's ironies, the Forsyte family had gathered for +a last proud pageant before they fell. Their faces to right and +left, in single lines, were turned for the most part impassively +toward the ground, guardians of their thoughts; but here and +there, one looking upward, with a line between his brows, +searched to see some sight on the chapel walls too much for, him, +to be listening to something that appalled. And the, responses, +low-muttered, in voices through which rose the same tone, the +same unseizable family ring, sounded weird, as though murmured in +hurried duplication by a single person. + +The service in the chapel over, the mourners filed up again to +guard the body to the tomb. The vault stood open, and, round it, +men in black were waiting. + +From that high and sacred field, where thousands of the upper +middle class lay in their last sleep, the eyes of the Forsytes +travelled down across the flocks of graves. There--spreading to +the distance, lay London, with no sun over it, mourning the loss +of its daughter, mourning with this family, so dear, the loss of +her who was mother and guardian. A hundred thousand spires and +houses, blurred in the great grey web of property, lay there like +prostrate worshippers before the grave of this, the oldest +Forsyte of them all. + +A few words, a sprinkle of earth, the thrusting of the coffin +home, and Aunt Ann had passed to her last rest. + +Round the vault, trustees of that passing, the five brothers +stood, with white heads bowed; they would see that Ann was +comfortable where she was. going. Her little property must stay +behind, but otherwise, all that could be should be done.... + +Then, severally, each stood aside, and putting on his hat, turned +back to inspect the new inscription on the marble of the family +vault: + + +SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ANN FORSYTE, +THE DAUGHTER OF THE ABOVE JOLYON +AND ANN FORSYTE, WHO DEPARTED +THIS LIFE THE 27TH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, +1886, AGED EIGHTY-SEVEN YEARS AND FOUR DAYS + + +Soon perhaps, someone else would be wanting an inscription. It +was strange and intolerable, for they had not thought somehow, +that Forsytes could die. And one and all they had a longing to +get away from this painfulness, this ceremony which had reminded +them of things they could not bear to think about--to get away +quickly and go about their business and forget. + +It was cold, too; the wind, like some slow, disintegrating force, +blowing up the hill over the graves, struck them with its chilly +breath; they began to split into groups, and as quickly as +possible to fill the waiting carriages. + +Swithin said he should go back to lunch at Timothy's, and he +offered to take anybody with him in his brougham. It was +considered a doubtful privilege to drive with Swithin in his +brougham, which was not a large one; nobody accepted, and he went +off alone. James and Roger followed immediately after; they also +would drop in to lunch. The others gradually melted away, Old +Jolyon taking three nephews to fill up his carriage; he had a +want of those young faces. + +Soames, who had to arrange some details in the cemetery office, +walked away with Bosinney. He had much to talk over with him, +and, having finished his business, they strolled to Hampstead, +lunched together at the Spaniard's Inn, and spent a long time in +going into practical details connected with the building of the +house; they then proceeded to the tram-line, and came as far as +the Marble Arch, where Bosinney went off to Stanhope Gate to see +June. + +Soames felt in excellent spirits when he arrived home, and +confided to Irene at dinner that he had had a good talk with +Bosinney, who really seemed a sensible fellow; they had had a +capital walk too, which had done his liver good--he had been +short of exercise for a long time--and altogether a very +satisfactory day. If only it hadn't been for poor Aunt Ann, he +would have taken her to the theatre; as it was, they must make +the best of an evening at home. + +"The Buccaneer asked after you more than once," he said +suddenly. And moved by some inexplicable desire to assert his +proprietorship, he rose from his chair and planted a kiss on +his wife's shoulder. + + + + + +PART II + + +CHAPTER I + +PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE + + +The winter had been an open one. Things in the trade were slack; +and as Soames had reflected before making up his mind, it had +been a good time for building. The shell of the house at Robin +Hill was thus completed by the end of April. + +Now that there was something to be seen for his money, he had +been coming down once, twice, even three times a week, and would +mouse about among the debris for hours, careful never to soil his +clothes, moving silently through the unfinished brickwork of +doorways, or circling round the columns in the central court. + +And he would stand before them for minutes' together, as though +peering into the real quality of their substance + +On April 30 he had an appointment with Bosinney to go over the +accounts, and five minutes before the proper time he entered the +tent which the architect had pitched for himself close to the old +oak tree. + +The Accounts were already prepared on a folding table, and with +a nod Soames sat down to study them. It was some time before he +raised his head. + +"I can't make them out," he said at last; "they come to nearly +seven hundred more than they ought" + +After a glance at Bosinney's face he went on quickly: + +"If you only make a firm stand against these builder chaps you'll +get them down. They stick you with everything if you don't look +sharp.... Take ten per cent. off all round. I shan't mind it's +coming out a hundred or so over the mark!" + +Bosinney shook his head: + +I've taken off every farthing I can! + +Soames pushed back the table with a movement of anger, which sent +the account sheets fluttering to the ground. + +"Then all I can say is," he flustered out, "you've made a pretty +mess of it!" + +"I've told you a dozen times," Bosinney answered sharply, "that +there'd be extras. I've pointed them out to you over and over +again!" + +"I know that," growled Soames: "I shouldn't have objected to a ten +pound note here and there. How was I to know that by 'extras' +you meant seven hundred pounds?" + +The qualities of both men had contributed to this notinconsider- +able discrepancy. On the one hand, the architect's devotion +to his idea, to the image of a house which he had created and +believed in--had made him nervous of being stopped, or forced +to the use of makeshifts; on the other, Soames' not less true +and wholehearted devotion to the very best article that could be +obtained for the money, had rendered him averse to believing that +things worth thirteen shillings could not be bought with twelve. + +I wish I'd never undertaken your house," said Bosinney suddenly. +"You come down here worrying me out of my life. You want double +the value for your money anybody else would, and now that you've +got a house that for its size is not to be beaten in the county, +you don't want to pay for it. If you're anxious to be off your +bargain, I daresay I can find the balance above the estimates +myself, but I'm d----d if I do another stroke of work for you! + +Soames regained his composure. Knowing that Bosinney had no +capital, he regarded this as a wild suggestion. He saw, too, +that he would be kept indefinitely out of this house on which he +had set his heart, and just at the crucial point when the +architect's personal care made all the difference. In the +meantime there was Irene to be thought of! She had been very +queer lately. He really believed it was only because she had +taken to Bosinney that she tolerated the idea of the house at +all. It would not do to make an open breach with her. + +"You needn't get into a rage," he said. "If I'm willing to put +up with it, I suppose you needn't cry out. All I meant was that +when you tell me a thing is going to cost so much, I like to-- +well, in fact, I--like to know where I am." + +"Look here!" said Bosinney, and Soames was both annoyed and +surprised by the shrewdness of his glance. "You've got my +services dirt cheap. For the kind of work I've put into this +house, and the amount of time I've given to it, you'd have had to +pay Littlemaster or some other fool four times as much. What you +want, in fact, is a first-rate man for a fourth-rate fee, and +that's exactly what you've got!" + +Soames saw that he really meant what he said, and, angry though +he was, the consequences of a row rose before him too vividly. +He saw his house unfinished, his wife rebellious, himself a +laughingstock. + +"Let's go over it," he said sulkily, "and see how the money's +gone." + +"Very well," assented Bosinney. "But we'll hurry up, if you +don't mind. I have to get back in time to take June to the +theatre." + +Soames cast a stealthy look at him, and said: "Coming to our +place, I suppose to meet her?" He was always coming to their +place! + +There had been rain the night before-a spring rain, and the earth +smelt of sap and wild grasses. The warm, soft breeze swung the +leaves and the golden buds of the old oak tree, and in the +sunshine the blackbirds were whistling their hearts out. + +It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable +yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand +motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his +arms to embrace he knows not what. The earth gave forth a +fainting warmth, stealing up through the chilly garment in which +winter had wrapped her. It was her long caress of invitation, to +draw men down to lie within her arms, to roll their bodies on +her, and put their lips to her breast. + +On just such a day as this Soames had got from Irene the promise +he had asked her for so often. Seated on the fallen trunk of a +tree, he had promised for the twentieth time that if their +marriage were not a success, she should be as free as if she had +never married him! + +"Do you swear it?" she had said. A few days back she had +reminded him of that oath. He had answered: "Nonsense! I +couldn't have sworn any such thing!" By some awkward fatality he +remembered it now. What queer things men would swear for the +sake of women! He would have sworn it at any time to gain her! +He would swear it now, if thereby he could touch her--but nobody +could touch her, she was cold-hearted! + +And memories crowded on him with the fresh, sweet savour of the +spring wind-memories of his courtship. + +In the spring of the year 1881 he was visiting his old school- +fellow and client, George Liversedge, of Branksome, who, with +the view of developing his pine-woods in the neighbourhood of +Bournemouth, had placed the formation of the company necessary +to the scheme in Soames's hands. Mrs. Liversedge, with a sense +of the fitness of things, had given a musical tea in his honour. +Later in the course of this function, which Soames, no musician, +had regarded as an unmitigated bore, his eye had been caught by +the face of a girl dressed in mourning, standing by herself. The +lines of her tall, as yet rather thin figure, showed through the +wispy, clinging stuff of her black dress, her black-gloved hands +were crossed in front of her, her lips slightly parted, and her +large, dark eyes wandered from face to face. Her hair, done low +on her neck, seemed to gleam above her black collar like coils of +shining metal. And as Soames stood looking at her, the sensation +that most men have felt at one time or another went stealing +through him--a peculiar satisfaction of the senses, a peculiar +certainty, which novelists and old ladies call love at first +sight. Still stealthily watching her, he at once made his way to +his hostess, and stood doggedly waiting for the music to cease. + +"Who is that girl with yellow hair and dark eyes?" he asked. + +"That--oh! Irene Heron. Her father, Professor Heron, died this +year. She lives with her stepmother. She's a nice girl, a +pretty girl, but no money!" + +"Introduce me, please," said Soames. + +It was very little that he found to say, nor did he find her +responsive to that little. But he went away with the resolution +to see her again. He effected his object by chance, meeting her +on the pier with her stepmother, who had the habit of walking +there from twelve to one of a forenoon. Soames made this lady's +acquaintance with alacrity, nor was it long before he perceived +in her the ally he was looking for. His keen scent for the +commercial side of family life soon told him that Irene cost her +stepmother more than the fifty pounds a year she brought her; it +also told him that Mrs. Heron, a woman yet in the prime of life, +desired to be married again. The strange ripening beauty of her +stepdaughter stood in the way of this desirable consummation. +And Soames, in his stealthy tenacity, laid his plans. + +He left Bournemouth without having given, himself away, but in a +month's time came back, and this time he spoke, not to the girl, +but to her stepmother. He had made up his mind, he said; he +would wait any time. And he had long to wait, watching Irene +bloom, the lines of her young figure softening, the stronger +blood deepening the gleam of her eyes, and warming her face to a +creamy glow; and at each visit he proposed to her, and when that +visit was at an end, took her refusal away with him, back to +London, sore at heart, but steadfast and silent as the grave. He +tried to come at the secret springs of her resistance; only once +had he a gleam of light. It was at one of those assembly dances, +which afford the only outlet to the passions of the population of +seaside watering-places. He was sitting with her in an +embrasure, his senses tingling with the contact of the waltz. +She had looked at him over her, slowly waving fan; and he had +lost his head. Seizing that moving wrist, he pressed his lips to +the flesh of her arm. And she had shuddered--to this day he had +not forgotten that shudder--nor the look so passionately averse +she had given him. + +A year after that she had yielded. What had made her yield he +could never make out; and from Mrs. Heron, a woman of some +diplomatic talent, he learnt nothing. Once after they were +married he asked her, "What made you refuse me so often?" She had +answered by a strange silence. An enigma to him from the day +that he first saw her, she was an enigma to him still.... + +Bosinney was waiting for him at the door; and on his rugged, +good-looking, face was a queer, yearning, yet happy look, as +though he too saw a promise of bliss in the spring sky, sniffed a +coming happiness in the spring air. Soames looked at him waiting +there. What was the matter with the fellow that he looked so +happy? What was he waiting for with that smile on his lips and +in his eyes? Soames could not see that for which Bosinney was +waiting as he stood there drinking in the flower-scented wind. +And once more he felt baffled in the presence of this man whom by +habit he despised. He hastened on to the house. + +"The only colour for those tiles," he heard Bosinney say,--"is +ruby with a grey tint in the stuff, to give a transparent effect. +I should like Irene's opinion. I'm ordering the purple leather +curtains for the doorway of this court; and if you distemper the +drawing-room ivory cream over paper, you'll get an illusive look. +You want to aim all through the decorations at what I call +charm." + +Soames said: "You mean that my wife has charm!" + +Bosinney evaded the question. + +"You should have a clump of iris plants in the centre of that +court." + +Soames smiled superciliously. + +"I'll look into Beech's some time," he said, "and see what's +appropriate!" + +They, found little else to say to each other, but on the way to +the Station Soames asked: + +"I suppose you find Irene very artistic." + +"Yes." The abrupt answer was as distinct a snub as saying: "If +you want to discuss her you can do it with someone else!" + +And the slow, sulky anger Soames had felt all the afternoon +burned the brighter within him. + +Neither spoke again till they were close to the Station, then +Soames asked: + +"When do you expect to have finished?" + +"By the end of June, if you really wish me to decorate as well." + +Soames nodded. "But you quite understand," he said, "that the +house is costing me a lot beyond what I contemplated. I may as +well tell you that I should have thrown it up, only I'm not in +the habit of giving up what I've set my mind on." + +Bosinney made no reply. And Soames gave him askance a look of +dogged dislike--for in spite of his fastidious air and that +supercilious, dandified taciturnity, Soames, with his set lips +and squared chin, was not unlike a bulldog.... + +When, at seven o'clock that evening, June arrived at 62, +Montpellier Square, the maid Bilson told her that Mr. Bosinney +was in the drawing-room; the mistress--she said--was dressing, +and would be down in a minute. She would tell her that Miss June +was here. + +June stopped her at once. + +"All right, Bilson," she said, "I'll just go in. You, needn't +hurry Mrs. Soames." + +She took off her cloak, and Bilson, with an understanding look, +did not even open the drawing-room door for her, but ran +downstairs. + +June paused for a moment to look at herself in the, little +old-fashioned silver mirror above the oaken rug chest--a slim, +imperious young figure, with a small resolute face, in a white +frock, cut moon-shaped at the base of a neck too slender for her +crown of twisted red-gold hair. + +She opened the drawing-room door softly, meaning to take him by +surprise. The room was filled with a sweet hot scent of +flowering azaleas. + +She took a long breath of the perfume, and heard Bosinney's +voice, not in the room, but quite close, saying. + +"Ah! there were such heaps of things I wanted to talk about, and +now we shan't have time!" + +Irene's voice answered: "Why not at dinner?" + +"How can one talk...." + +June's first thought was to go away, but instead she crossed to +the long window opening on the little court. It was from there +that the scent of the azaleas came, and, standing with their +backs to her, their faces buried in the goldenpink blossoms, +stood her lover and Irene. + +Silent but unashamed, with flaming cheeks and angry eyes, the +girl watched. + +"Come on Sunday by yourself--We can go over the house together." + +June saw Irene look up at him through her screen of blossoms. It +was not the look of a coquette, but--far worse to the watching +girl--of a woman fearful lest that look should say too much. + +"I've promised to go for a drive with Uncle...." + +"The big one! Make him bring you; it's only ten miles--the very +thing for his horses." + +"Poor old Uncle Swithin!" + +A wave of the azalea scent drifted into June's face; she felt +sick and dizzy. + +"Do! ah! do!" + +"But why?" + +"I must see you there--I thought you'd like to help me...." + +The answer seemed to the girl to come softly with a tremble from +amongst the blossoms: "So I do!" + +And she stepped into the open space of the window. + +"How stuffy it is here!" she said; "I can't bear this scent!" + +Her eyes, so angry and direct, swept both their faces. + +"Were you talking about the house? I haven't seen it yet, you +know--shall we all go on Sunday?"' + +From Irene's face the colour had flown. + +"I am going for a drive that day with Uncle Swithin," she +answered. + +"Uncle Swithin! What does he matter? You can throw him over!" + +"I am not in the habit of throwing people over!" + +There was a sound of footsteps and June saw Soames standing just +behind her. + +"Well! if you are all ready," said Irene, looking from one to +the other with a strange smile, "dinner is too!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JUNE'S TREAT + + +Dinner began in silence; the women facing one another, and the +men. + +In silence the soup, was finished--excellent, if a little thick; +and fish was brought. In silence it was handed. + +Bosinney ventured: "It's the first spring day." + +Irene echoed softly: Yes--the first spring day. + +"Spring!" said June: "there isn't a breath of air!" No one +replied. + +The fish was taken away, a fine fresh sole from Dover. And +Bilson brought champagne, a bottle swathed around the neck with +white.... + +Soames said: "You'll find it dry." + +Cutlets were handed, each pink-frilled about the legs. They were +refused by June, and silence fell. + +Soames said: "You'd better take a cutlet, June; there's nothing +coming." + +But June again refused, so they were borne away. And then Irene +asked: "Phil, have you heard my blackbird?" + +Bosinney answered: "Rather--he's got a hunting-song. As I came +round I heard him in the Square." + +"He's such a darling!" + +"Salad, sir?" Spring chicken was removed. + +But Soames was speaking: "The asparagus is very poor. Bosinney, +glass of sherry with your sweet? June, you're drinking nothing!" + +June said: "You know I never do. Wine's such horrid stuff!" + +An apple charlotte came upon a silver dish, And smilingly Irene +said: "The azaleas are so wonderful this year!" + +To this Bosinney murmured: "Wonderful! The scent's +extraordinary!" + +June said: "How can you like the scent? Sugar, please, Bilson." + +Sugar was handed her, and Soames remarked: "This charlottes +good!" + +The charlotte was removed. Long silence followed. Irene, +beckoning, said: "Take out the azalea, Bilson. Miss June can't +bear the scent." + +"No; let it stay," said June. + +Olives from France, with Russian caviare, were placed on little +plates. And Soames remarked: "Why can't we have the Spanish?" +But no one answered. + +The olives were removed. Lifting her tumbler June demanded: +"Give me some water, please." Water was given her. A silver tray +was brought, with German plums. There was a lengthy pause. In +perfect harmony all were eating them. + +Bosinney counted up the stones: "This year--next year--some time." + +Irene finished softly: "Never! There was such a glorious sunset. +The sky's all ruby still--so beautiful!" + +He answered: "Underneath the dark." + +Their eyes had met, and June cried scornfully: "A London sunset!" + +Egyptian cigarettes were handed in a silver box. Soames, taking +one, remarked: "What time's your play begin?" + +No one replied, and Turkish coffee followed in enamelled cups. + +Irene, smiling quietly, said: "If only...." + +"Only what?" said June. + +"If only it could always be the spring!" + +Brandy was handed; it was pale and old. + +Soames said: "Bosinney, better take some brandy." + +Bosinney took a glass; they all arose. + +"You want a cab?" asked Soames. + +June answered: "No! My cloaks Please, Bilson." Her cloak was +brought. + +Irene, from the window, murmured: "Such a lovely night! The +stars are coming out!" + +Soames added: "Well, I hope you'll both enjoy yourselves." + +From the door June answered: "Thanks. Come, Phil." + +Bosinney cried: "I'm coming." + +Soames smiled a sneering smile, and said: "I wish you luck!" + +And at the door Irene watched them go. + +Bosinney called: "Good night!" + +"Good night!" she answered softly.... + +June made her lover take her on the top of a 'bus, saying she +wanted air, and there sat silent, with her face to the breeze. + +The driver turned once or twice, with the intention of venturing +a remark, but thought better of it. They were a lively couple! +The spring had got into his blood, too; he felt the need for +letting steam escape, and clucked his tongue, flourishing his +whip, wheeling his horses, and even they, poor things, had +smelled the spring, and for a brief half-hour spurned the +pavement with happy hoofs. + +The whole town was alive; the boughs, curled upward with their +decking of young leaves, awaited some gift the breeze could +bring. New-lighted lamps were gaining mastery, and the faces of +the crowd showed pale under that glare, while on high the great +white clouds slid swiftly, softly, over the purple sky. + +Men in, evening dress had thrown back overcoats, stepping +jauntily up the steps of Clubs; working folk loitered; and women- +-those women who at that time of night are solitary--solitary and +moving eastward in a stream--swung slowly along, with expectation +in their gait, dreaming of good wine and a good supper, or--for +an unwonted minute, of kisses given for love. + +Those countless figures, going their ways under the lamps and the +moving-sky, had one and all received some restless blessing from +the stir of spring. And one and all, like those clubmen with +their opened coats, had shed something of caste, and creed, and +custom, and by the cock of their hats, the pace of their walk, +their laughter, or their silence, revealed their common kinship +under the passionate heavens. + +Bosinney and June entered the theatre in silence, and mounted to +their seats in the upper boxes. The piece had just begun, and +the half-darkened house, with its rows of creatures peering all +one way, resembled a great garden of flowers turning their faces +to the sun. + +June had never before been in the upper boxes. From the age of +fifteen she had habitually accompanied her grandfather to the +stalls, and not common stalls, but the best seats in the house, +towards the centre of the third row, booked by old Jolyon, at +Grogan and Boyne's, on his way home from the City, long before +the day; carried in his overcoat pocket, together with his +cigarcase and his old kid gloves, and handed to June to keep till +the appointed night. And in those stalls--an erect old figure +with a serene white head, a little figure, strenuous and eager, +with a red-gold head--they would sit through every kind of play, +and on the way home old Jolyon would say of the principal actor: +"Oh, he's a poor stick! You should have seen little Bobson!" + +She had looked forward to this evening with keen delight; it was +stolen, chaperone-less, undreamed of at Stanhope Gate, where she +was supposed to be at Soames'. She had expected reward for her +subterfuge, planned for her lover's sake; she had expected it to +break up the thick, chilly cloud, and make the relations between +them which of late had been so puzzling, so tormenting--sunny and +simple again as they had been before the winter. She had come +with the intention of saying something definite; and she looked +at the stage with a furrow between her brows, seeing nothing, her +hands squeezed together in her lap. A swarm of jealous +suspicions stung and stung her. + +If Bosinney was conscious of her trouble he made no sign. + +The curtain dropped. The first act had come to an end. + +"It's awfully hot here!" said the girl; "I should like to go +out." + +She was very white, and she knew--for with her nerves thus +sharpened she saw everything--that he was both uneasy and +compunctious. + +At the back of the theatre an open balcony hung over the street; +she took possession of this, and stood leaning there without a +word, waiting for him to begin. + +At last she could bear it no longer. + +"I want to say something to you, Phil," she said. + +"Yes?" + +The defensive tone of his voice brought the colour flying to her +cheek, the words flying to her lips: "You don't give me a chance +to be nice to you; you haven't for ages now!" + +Bosinney stared down at the street. He made no answer.... + +June cried passionately: "You know I want to do everything for +you--that I want to be everything to you...." + +A hum rose from the--street, and, piercing it with a sharp +'ping,' the bell sounded for the raising of the curtain, June did +not stir. A desperate struggle was going on within her. Should +she put everything to the proof? Should she challenge directly +that influence, that attraction which was driving him away from +her? It was her nature to challenge, and she said: "Phil, take +me to see the house on Sunday!" + +With a smile quivering and breaking on her lips, and trying, how +hard, not to show that she was watching, she searched his face, +saw it waver and hesitate, saw a troubled line come between his +brows, the blood rush into his face. He answered: "Not Sunday, +dear; some other day!" + +"Why not Sunday? I shouldn't be in the way on Sunday." + +He made an evident effort, and said: I have an engagement." + +"You are going to take...." + +His eyes grew angry; he shrugged his shoulders, and answered: "An +engagement that will prevent my taking you to see the house!" + +June bit her lip till the blood came, and walked back to her seat +without another word, but she could not help the tears of rage +rolling down her face. The house had been mercifully darkened +for a crisis, and no one could see her trouble. + +Yet in this world of Forsytes let no man think himself immune +from observation. + +In the third row behind, Euphemia, Nicholas's youngest daughter, +with her married-sister, Mrs. Tweetyman, were watching. + +They reported at Timothy's, how they had seen June and her fiance +at the theatre. + +"In the stalls?" "No, not in the...." "Oh! in the dress +circle, of course. That seemed to be quite fashionable nowadays +with young people!" + +Well--not exactly. In the.... Anyway, that engagement wouldn't +last long. They had never seen anyone look so thunder and +lightningy as that little June! With tears of enjoyment in their +eyes, they related how she had kicked a man's hat as she returned +to her seat in the middle of an act, and how the man had looked. +Euphemia had a noted, silent laugh, terminating most disappoint- +ingly in squeaks; and when Mrs. Small, holding up her hands, said: +"My dear! Kicked a ha-at?" she let out such anumber of these that +she had to be recovered with smelling-salts. As she went away +she said to Mrs. Tweetyman: + +"Kicked a--ha-at! Oh! I shall die." + +For 'that little June' this evening, that was to have been 'her +treat,' was the most miserable she had ever spent. God knows she +tried to stifle her pride, her suspicion, her jealousy! + +She parted from Bosinney at old Jolyon's door without breaking +down; the feeling that her lover must be conquered was strong +enough to sustain her till his retiring footsteps brought home +the true extent of her wretchedness. + +The noiseless 'Sankey' let her in. She would have slipped up to +her own room, but old Jolyon, who had heard her entrance, was in +the dining-room doorway. + +"Come in and have your milk," he said. "It's been kept hot for +you. You're very late. Where have you been?" + +June stood at the fireplace, with a foot on the fender and an arm +on the mantelpiece, as her grandfather had done when he came in +that night of the opera. She was too near a breakdown, to care +what she told him. + +"We dined at Soames's." + +"H'm! the man of property! His wife there and Bosinney?" + +"Yes." + +Old Jolyon's glance was fixed on her with the penetrating gaze +from which it was difficult to hide; but she was not looking at +him, and when she turned her face, he dropped his scrutiny at +once. He had seen enough, and too much. He bent down to lift +the cup of milk for her from the hearth, and, turning away, +grumbled: "You oughtn't to stay out so late; it makes you fit for +nothing." + +He was invisible now behind his paper, which he turned with a +vicious crackle; but when June came up to kiss him, he said: +"Good-night, my darling," in a tone so tremulous and unexpected, +that it was all the girl could do to get out of the room without +breaking into the fit of sobbing which lasted her well on into +the night. + +When the door was closed, old Jolyon dropped his paper, and +stared long and anxiously in front of him. + +'The beggar!' he thought. 'I always knew she'd have trouble with +him!' + +Uneasy doubts and suspicions, the more poignant that he felt +himself powerless to check or control the march of events, came +crowding upon him. + +Was the fellow going to jilt her? He longed to go and say to +him: "Look here, you sir! Are you going to jilt my grand- +daughter?" But how could he? Knowing little or nothing, he +was yet certain, with his unerring astuteness, that there was +something going on. He suspected Bosinney of being too much at +Montpellier Square. + +'This fellow,' he thought, 'may not be a scamp; his face is not a +bad one, but he's a queer fish. I don't know what to make of +him. I shall never know what to make of him! They tell me he +works like a nigger, but I see no good coming of it. He's +unpractical, he has no method. When he comes here, he sits as +glum as a monkey. If I ask him what wine he'll have, he says: +"Thanks, any wine." If I offer him a cigar, he smokes it as if it +were a twopenny German thing. I never see him looking at June as +he ought to look at her; and yet, he's not after her money. If +she were to make a sign, he'd be off his bargain to-morrow. But +she won't--not she! She'll stick to him! She's as obstinate as +fate--Sh'ell never let go!' + +Sighing deeply, he turned the paper; in its columns, perchance he +might find consolation. + +And upstairs in her room June sat at her open window, where the +spring wind came, after its revel across the Park, to cool her +hot cheeks and burn her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DRIVE WITH SWITHIN + + +Two lines of a certain song in a certain famous old school's +songbook run as follows: + +'How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la! +How he carolled and he sang, like a bird!....' + +Swithin did not exactly carol and sing like a bird, but he felt +almost like endeavouring to hum a tune, as he stepped out of Hyde +Park Mansions, and contemplated his horses drawn up before the +door. + +The afternoon was as balmy as a day in June, and to complete the +simile of the old song, he had put on a blue frock-coat, +dispensing with an overcoat, after sending Adolf down three times +to make sure that there was not the least suspicion of east in +the wind; and the frock-coat was buttoned so tightly around his +personable form, that, if the buttons did not shine, they might +pardonably have done so. Majestic on the pavement he fitted on a +pair of dog-skin gloves; with his large bell-shaped top hat, and +his great stature and bulk he looked too primeval for a Forsyte. +His thick white hair, on which Adolf had bestowed a touch of +pomatum, exhaled the fragrance of opoponax and cigars--the +celebrated Swithin brand, for which he paid one hundred and, +forty shillings the hundred, and of which old Jolyon had unkindly +said, he wouldn't smoke them as a gift; they wanted the stomach +of a horse! + +"Adolf!" + +"Sare!" + +"The new plaid rug!" + +He would never teach that fellow to look smart; and Mrs. Soames +he felt sure, had an eye! + +"The phaeton hood down; I am going--to--drive--a--lady!" + +A pretty woman would want to show off her frock; and well--he was +going to drive a lady! It was like a new beginning to the good +old days. + +Ages since he had driven a woman! The last time, if he +remembered, it had been Juley; the poor old soul had been as +nervous as a cat the whole time, and so put him out of patience +that, as he dropped her in the Bayswater Road, he had said: "Well +I'm d---d if I ever drive you again!" And he never had, not he! + +Going up to his horses' heads, he examined their bits; not that +he knew anything about bits--he didn't pay his coachman sixty +pounds a year to do his work for him, that had never been his +principle. Indeed, his reputation as a horsey man rested mainly +on the fact that once, on Derby Day, he had been welshed by some +thimble-riggers. But someone at the Club, after seeing him drive +his greys up to the door--he always drove grey horses, you got +more style for the money, some thought--had called him 'Four- +in-hand Forsyte.' The name having reached his ears through that +fellow Nicholas Treffry, old Jolyon's dead partner, the great +driving man notorious for more carriage accidents than any man in +the kingdom--Swithin had ever after conceived it right to act up +to it. The name had taken his fancy, not because he had ever +driven four-in-hand, or was ever likely to, but because of +something distinguished in the sound. Four-in-hand Forsyte! Not +bad! Born too soon, Swithin had missed his vocation. Coming +upon London twenty years later, he could not have failed to have +become a stockbroker, but at the time when he was obliged to +select, this great profession had not as yet became the chief +glory of the upper-middle class. He had literally been forced +into land agency. + +Once in the driving seat, with the reins handed to him, and +blinking over his pale old cheeks in the full sunlight, he took a +slow look round--Adolf was already up behind; the cockaded groom +at the horses' heads stood ready to let go; everything was +prepared for the signal, and Swithin gave it. The equipage +dashed forward, and before you could say Jack Robinson, with a +rattle and flourish drew up at Soames' door. + +Irene came out at once, and stepped in--he afterward described it +at Timothy's--"as light as--er--Taglioni, no fuss about it, no +wanting this or wanting that;" and above all, Swithin dwelt on +this, staring at Mrs. Septimus in a way that disconcerted her a +good deal, "no silly nervousness!" To Aunt Hester he portrayed +Irene's hat. "Not one of your great flopping things, sprawling +about, and catching the dust, that women are so fond of nowadays, +but a neat little--"he made a circular motion of his hand, "white +veil--capital taste." + +"What was it made of?" inquired Aunt Hester, who manifested a +languid but permanent excitement at any mention of dress. + +"Made of?" returned Swithin; "now how should I know?" + +He sank into silence so profound that Aunt Hester began to be +afraid he had fallen into a trance. She did not try to rouse him +herself, it not being her custom. + +'I wish somebody would come,' she thought; 'I don't like the look +of him!' + +But suddenly Swithin returned to life. "Made of" he wheezed out +slowly, "what should it be made of?" + +They had not gone four miles before Swithin received the +impression that Irene liked driving with him. Her face was so +soft behind that white veil, and her dark eyes shone so in the +spring light, and whenever he spoke she raised them to him and +smiled. + +On Saturday morning Soames had found her at her writing-table +with a note written to Swithin, putting him off. Why did she +want to put him off? he asked. She might put her own people off +when she liked, he would not have her putting off his people! + +She had looked at him intently, had torn up the note, and said: +"Very well!" + +And then she began writing another. He took a casual glance +presently, and saw that it was addressed to Bosinney. + +"What are you writing to him about?" he asked. + +Irene, looking at him again with that intent look, said quietly: +"Something he wanted me to do for him!" + +"Humph!" said Soames,--"Commissions!" + +"You'll have your work cut out if you begin that sort of thing!" +He said no more. + +Swithin opened his eyes at the mention of Robin Hill; it was a +long way for his horses, and he always dined at half-past seven, +before the rush at the Club began; the new chef took more trouble +with an early dinner--a lazy rascal! + +He would like to have a look at the house, however. A house +appealed to any Forsyte, and especially to one who had been an +auctioneer. After all he said the distance was nothing. When he +was a younger man he had had rooms at Richmond for many years, +kept his carriage and pair there, and drove them up and down to +business every day of his life. + +Four-in-hand Forsyte they called him! His T-cart, his horses had +been known from Hyde Park Corner to the Star and Garter. The +Duke of Z.... wanted to get hold of them, would have given him +double the money, but he had kept them; know a good thing when +you have it, eh? A look of solemn pride came portentously on his +shaven square old face, he rolled his head in his stand-up +collar, like a turkey-cock preening himself. + +She was really--a charming woman! He enlarged upon her frock +afterwards to Aunt Juley, who held up her hands at his way of +putting it. + +Fitted her like a skin--tight as a drum; that was how he liked +'em, all of a piece, none of your daverdy, scarecrow women! He +gazed at Mrs. Septimus Small, who took after James--long and +thin. + +"There's style about her," he went on, "fit for a king! And +she's so quiet with it too!" + +"She seems to have made quite a conquest of you, any way," +drawled Aunt Hester from her corner. + +Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him. + +"What's that?" he said. "I know a--pretty--woman when I see one, +and all I can say is, I don't see the young man about that's fit +for her; but perhaps--you--do, come, perhaps--you-do!" + +"Oh?" murmured Aunt Hester, "ask Juley!" + +Long before they reached Robin Hill, however, the unaccustomed +airing had made him terribly sleepy; he drove with his eyes +closed, a life-time of deportment alone keeping his tall and +bulky form from falling askew. + +Bosinney, who was watching, came out to meet them, and all three +entered the house together; Swithin in front making play with a +stout gold-mounted Malacca cane, put into his hand by Adolf, for +his knees were feeling the effects of their long stay in the same +position. He had assumed his fur coat, to guard against the +draughts of the unfinished house. + +The staircase--he said--was handsome! the baronial style! They +would want some statuary about! He came to a standstill between +the columns of the doorway into the inner court, and held out his +cane inquiringly. + +What was this to be--this vestibule, or whatever they called it? +But gazing at the skylight, inspiration came to him. + +"Ah! the billiard-room!" + +When told it was to be a tiled court with plants in the centre, +he turned to Irene: + +"Waste this on plants? You take my advice and have a billiard +table here!" + +Irene smiled. She had lifted her veil, banding it like a nun's +coif across her forehead, and the smile of her dark eyes below +this seemed to Swithin more charming than ever. He nodded. She +would take his advice he saw. + +He had little to say of the drawing or dining-rooms, which he +described as 'spacious"; but fell into such raptures as he +permitted to a man of his dignity, in the wine-cellar, to which +he descended by stone steps, Bosinney going first with a light. + +"You'll have room here," he said, "for six or seven hundred. +dozen--a very pooty little cellar!" + +Bosinney having expressed the wish to show them the house from +the copse below, Swithin came to a stop. + +"There's a fine view from here," he remarked; "you haven't such a +thing as a chair?" + +A chair was brought him from Bosinney's tent. + +"You go down," he said blandly; "you two! I'll sit here and look +at the view." + +He sat down by the oak tree, in the sun; square and upright, with +one hand stretched out, resting on the nob of his cane, the other +planted on his knee; his fur coat thrown open, his hat, roofing +with its flat top the pale square of his face; his stare, very +blank, fixed on the landscape. + +He nodded to them as they went, off down through the fields. He +was, indeed, not sorry to be left thus for a quiet moment of +reflection. The air was balmy, not too much heat in the sun; the +prospect a fine one, a remarka.... His head fell a little to one +side; he jerked it up and thought: Odd! He--ah! They were +waving to him from the bottom! He put up his hand, and moved it +more than once. They were active--the prospect was remar.... +His head fell to the left, he jerked it up at once; it fell to +the right. It remained there; he was asleep. + +And asleep, a sentinel on the--top of the rise, he appeared to +rule over this prospect--remarkable--like some image blocked out +by the special artist, of primeval Forsytes in pagan days, to +record the domination of mind over matter! + +And all the unnumbered generations of his yeoman ancestors, wont +of a Sunday to stand akimbo surveying their little plots of land, +their grey unmoving eyes hiding their instinct with its hidden +roots of violence, their instinct for possession to the exclusion +of all the world--all these unnumbered generations seemed to sit +there with him on the top of the rise. + +But from him, thus slumbering, his jealous Forsyte spirit +travelled far, into God-knows-what jungle of fancies; with those +two young people, to see what they were doing down there in the +copse--in the copse where the spring was running riot with the +scent of sap and bursting buds, the song of birds innumerable, a +carpet of bluebells and sweet growing things, and the sun caught +like gold in the tops of the trees; to see what they were doing, +walking along there so close together on the path that was too +narrow; walking along there so close that they were always +touching; to watch Irene's eyes, like dark thieves, stealing the +heart out of the spring. And a great unseen chaperon, his spirit +was there, stopping with them to look at the little furry corpse +of a mole, not dead an hour, with his mushroom--and silver coat +untouched by the rain or dew; watching over Irene's bent head, +and the soft look of her pitying eyes; and over that young man's +head, gazing at her so hard, so strangely. Walking on with them, +too, across the open space where a wood-cutter had been at work, +where the bluebells were trampled down, and a trunk had swayed +and staggered down from its gashed stump. Climbing it with them, +over, and on to the very edge of the copse, whence there +stretched an undiscovered country, from far away in which came +the sounds, 'Cuckoo-cuckoo!' + +Silent, standing with them there, and uneasy at their silence! +Very queer, very strange! + +Then back again, as though guilty, through the wood--back to the +cutting, still silent, amongst the songs of birds that never +ceased, and the wild scent--hum! what was it--like that herb +they put in--back to the log across the path.... + +And then unseen, uneasy, flapping above them, trying to make +noises, his Forsyte spirit watched her balanced on the log, her +pretty figure swaying, smiling down at that young man gazing up +with such strange, shining eyes, slipping now--a--ah! falling, +o--oh! sliding--down his breast; her soft, warm body clutched, +her head bent back from his lips; his kiss; her recoil; his cry: +"You must know--I love you!" Must know--indeed, a pretty...? +Love! Hah! + +Swithin awoke; virtue had gone out of him. He had a taste in his +mouth. Where was he? + +Damme! He had been asleep! + +He had dreamed something about a new soup, with a taste of mint +in it. + +Those young people--where had they got to? His left leg had pins +and needles. + +"Adolf!" The rascal was not there; the rascal was asleep +somewhere. + +He stood up, tall, square, bulky in his fur, looking anxiously +down over the fields, and presently he saw them coming. + +Irene was in front; that young fellow--what had they nicknamed +him--'The Buccaneer?' looked precious hangdog there behind her; +had got a flea in his ear, he shouldn't wonder. Serve him right, +taking her down all that way to look at the house! The proper +place to look at a house from was the lawn. + +They saw him. He extended his arm, and moved it spasmodically to +encourage them. But they had stopped. What were they standing +there for, talking--talking? They came on again. She had been, +giving him a rub, he had not the least doubt of it, and no +wonder, over a house like that--a great ugly thing, not the sort +of house be was accustomed to. + +He looked intently at their faces, with his pale, immovable +stare. That young man looked very queer! + +"You'll never make anything of this!" he said tartly, pointing at +the mansion;--"too newfangled!" + +Bosinney gazed at him as though he had not heard; and Swithin +afterwards described him to, Aunt Hester as "an extravagant sort +of fellow very odd way of looking at you--a bumpy beggar!" + +What gave rise to this sudden piece of psychology he did not +state; possibly Bosinney's, prominent forehead and cheekbones and +chin, or something hungry in his face, which quarrelled with +Swithin's conception of the calm satiety that should characterize +the perfect gentleman. + +He brightened up at the mention of tea. He had a contempt for +tea--his brother Jolyon had been in tea; made a lot of money by +it--but he was so thirsty, and had such a taste in his mouth, +that he was prepared to drink anything. He longed to inform +Irene of the taste in his mouth--she was so sympathetic--but it +would not be a, distinguished thing to do; he rolled his tongue +round, and faintly smacked it against his palate. + +In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like +moustaches over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of +a pint-bottle of champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at +Bosinney, said: "Why, you're quite a Monte Cristo!" This +celebrated novel--one of the half-dozen he had read--had produced +an extraordinary impression on his mind. + +Taking his glass from the table, he held it away from him to +scrutinize the colour; thirsty as he was, it was not likely that +he was going to drink trash! Then, placing it to his lips, he +took a sip. + +"A very nice wine," he said at last, passing it before his nose; +"not the equal of my Heidsieck!" + +It was at this moment that the idea came to him which he +afterwards imparted at Timothy's in this nutshell: "I shouldn't +wonder a bit if that architect chap were sweet upon Mrs. Soames!" + +And from this moment his pale, round eyes never ceased to bulge +with the interest of his discovery. + +"The fellow," he said to Mrs. Septimus, "follows her about with +his eyes like a dog--the bumpy beggar! I don't wonder at it-- +she's a very charming woman, and, I should say, the pink of +discretion!" A vague consciousness of, perfume caging about +Irene, like that from a flower with half-closed petals and a +passionate heart, moved him to the creation of this image. "But +I wasn't sure of it," he said, "till I saw him pick up her +handkerchief." + +Mrs. Small's eyes boiled with excitement. + +"And did he give it her back?" she asked. + +"Give it back?" said Swithin: "I saw him slobber on it when he +thought I wasn't looking!" + +Mrs. Small gasped--too interested to speak. + +"But she gave him no encouragement," went on Swithin; he stopped, +and stared for a minute or two in the way that alarmed Aunt +Hester so--he had suddenly recollected that, as they were +starting back in the-phaeton, she had given Bosinney her hand a +second time, and let it stay there too.... He had touched his +horses smartly with the whip, anxious to get her all to himself. +But she had looked back, and she had not answered his first +question; neither had he been able to see her face--she had kept +it hanging down. + +There is somewhere a picture, which Swithin has not seen, of a +man sitting on a rock, and by him, immersed in the still, green +water, a sea-nymph lying on her back, with her hand on her naked +breast. She has a half-smile on her face--a smile of hopeless +surrender and of secret joy. + +Seated by Swithin's side, Irene may have been smiling like that. + +When, warmed by champagne, he had her all to himself, he +unbosomed himself of his wrongs; of his smothered resentment +against the new chef at the club; his worry over the house in +Wigmore Street, where the rascally tenant had gone bankrupt +through helping his brother-in-law as if charity did not begin at +home; of his deafness, too, and that pain he sometimes got in his +right side. She listened, her eyes swimming under their lids. +He thought she was thinking deeply of his troubles, and pitied +himself terribly. Yet in his fur coat, with frogs across the +breast, his top hat aslant, driving this beautiful woman, he had +never felt more distinguished. + +A coster, however, taking his girl for a Sunday airing, seemed to +have the same impression about himself. This person had flogged +his donkey into a gallop alongside, and sat, upright as a +waxwork, in his shallopy chariot, his chin settled pompously on a +red handkerchief, like Swithin's on his full cravat; while his +girl, with the ends of a fly-blown boa floating out behind, aped +a woman of fashion. Her swain moved a stick with a ragged bit of +string dangling from the end, reproducing with strange fidelity +the circular flourish of Swithin's whip, and rolled his head at +his lady with a leer that had a weird likeness to Swithin's +primeval stare. + +Though for a time unconscious of the lowly ruffian's presence, +Swithin presently took it into his head that he was being guyed. +He laid his whip-lash across the mares flank. The two chariots, +however, by some unfortunate fatality continued abreast. +Swithin's yellow, puffy face grew red; he raised his whip to lash +the costermonger, but was saved from so far forgetting his +dignity by a special intervention of Providence. A carriage +driving out through a gate forced phaeton and donkey-cart into +proximity; the wheels grated, the lighter vehicle skidded, and +was overturned. + +Swithin did not look round. On no account would he have pulled +up to help the ruffian. Serve him right if he had broken his +neck! + +But he could not if he would. The greys had taken alarm. The +phaeton swung from side to side, and people raised frightened +faces as they went dashing past. Swithin's great arms, stretched +at full length, tugged at the reins. His cheeks were puffed, his +lips compressed, his swollen face was of a dull, angry red. + +Irene had her hand on the rail, and at every lurch she gripped it +tightly. Swithin heard her ask: + +"Are we going to have an accident, Uncle Swithin?" + +He gasped out between his pants: "It's nothing; a--little fresh!" + +"I've never been in an accident." + +"Don't you move!" He took a look at--her. She was smiling, +perfectly calm. "Sit still," he repeated. "Never fear, I'll get +you home!" + +And in the midst of all his terrible efforts, he was surprised to +hear her answer in a voice not like her own: + +"I don't care if I never get home!" + +The carriage giving a terrific lurch, Swithin's exclamation was +jerked back into his throat. The horses, winded by the rise of a +hill, now steadied to a trot, and finally stopped of their own +accord. + +"When"--Swithin described it at Timothy's--"I pulled 'em up, +there she was as cool as myself. God bless my soul! she behaved +as if she didn't care whether she broke her neck or not! What +was it she said: 'I don't care if I never get home?" Leaning over +the handle of his cane, he wheezed out, to Mrs. Small's terror: +"And I'm not altogether surprised, with a finickin' feller like +young Soames for a husband!" + +It did not occur to him to wonder what Bosinney had done after +they had left him there alone; whether he had gone wandering +about like the dog to which Swithin had compared him; wandering +down to that copse where the spring was still in riot, the cuckoo +still calling from afar; gone down there with her handkerchief +pressed to lips, its fragrance mingling with the scent of mint +and thyme. Gone down there with such a wild, exquisite pain in +his heart that he could have cried out among the trees. Or what, +indeed, the fellow had done. In fact, till he came to Timothy's, +Swithin had forgotten all about him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JAMES GOES TO SEE FOR HIMSELF + + +Those ignorant of Forsyte 'Change would not, perhaps, foresee all +the stir made by Irene's visit to the house. + +After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his +memorable drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, +the merest touch of malice, and a real desire to do good, was +passed on to June. + +"And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; +"that about not going home. What did she mean?" + +It was a strange recital for the girl. She heard it flushing +painfully, and, suddenly, with a curt handshake, took her +departure. + +"Almost rude!" Mrs. Small said to Aunt Hester, when June was +gone. + +The proper construction was put on her reception of the news. +She was upset. Something was therefore very wrong. Odd! She +and Irene had been such friends! + +It all tallied too well with whispers and hints that had been +going about for some time past. Recollections of Euphemia's +account of the visit to the theatre--Mr. Bosinney always at +Soames's? Oh, indeed! Yes, of course, he would be about the +house! Nothing open. Only upon the greatest, the most important +provocation was it necessary to say anything open on Forsyte +'Change. This machine was too nicely adjusted; a hint, the +merest trifling expression of regret or doubt, sufficed to set +the family soul so sympathetic--vibrating. No one desired that +harm should come of these vibrations--far from it; they were set +in motion with the best intentions, with the feeling, that each +member of the family had a stake in the family soul. + +And much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip; it would +frequently result in visits of condolence being made, in +accordance with the customs of Society, thereby conferring a real +benefit upon the sufferers, and affording consolation to the +sound, who felt pleasantly that someone at all events was +suffering from that from which they themselves were not +suffering. In fact, it was simply a desire to keep things +well-aired, the desire which animates the Public Press, that +brought James, for instance, into communication with Mrs. +Septimus, Mrs. Septimus, with the little Nicholases, the little +Nicholases with who-knows-whom, and so on. That great class to +which they had risen, and now belonged, demanded a certain +candour, a still more certain reticence. This combination +guaranteed their membership. + +Many of the younger Forsytes felt, very naturally, and would +openly declare, that they did not want their affairs pried into; +but so powerful was the invisible, magnetic current of family +gossip, that for the life of them they could not help knowing all +about everything. It was felt to be hopeless. + +One of them (young Roger) had made an heroic attempt to free the +rising generation, by speaking of Timothy as an 'old cat.' The +effort had justly recoiled upon himself; the words, coming round +in the most delicate way to Aunt Juley's ears, were repeated by +her in a shocked voice to Mrs. Roger, whence they returned again +to young Roger. + +And, after all, it was only the wrong-doers who suffered; as, for +instance, George, when he lost all that money playing billiards; +or young Roger himself, when he was so dreadfully near to +marrying the girl to whom, it was whispered, he was already +married by the laws of Nature; or again Irene, who was thought, +rather than said, to be in danger. + +All this was not only pleasant but salutary. And it made so many +hours go lightly at Timothy's in the Bayswater Road; so many +hours that must otherwise have been sterile and heavy to those +three who lived there; and Timothy's was but one of hundreds of +such homes in this City of London--the homes of neutral persons +of the secure classes, who are out of the battle themselves, and +must find their reason for existing, in the battles of others. + +But for the sweetness of family gossip, it must indeed have been +lonely there. Rumours and tales, reports, surmises--were they +not the children of the house, as dear and precious as the +prattling babes the brother and sisters had missed in their own +journey? To talk about them, was as near as they could get to +the possession of all those children and grandchildren, after +whom their soft hearts yearned. For though it is doubtful +whether Timothy's heart yearned, it is indubitable that at the +arrival of each fresh Forsyte child he was quite upset. + +Useless for young Roger to say, "Old cat!" for Euphemia to hold up +her hands and cry: "Oh! those three!" and break into her silent +laugh with the squeak at the end. Useless, and not too kind. + +The situation which at this stage might seem, and especially to +Forsyte eyes, strange--not to say 'impossible'--was, in view of +certain facts, not so strange after all. Some things had been +lost sight of. And first, in the security bred of many harmless +marriages, it had been forgotten that Love is no hot-house +flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour +of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a +wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within +the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms +outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and +colour are always, wild! And further--the facts and figures of +their own lives being against the perception of this truth--it +was not generally recognised by Forsytes that, where, this wild +plant springs, men and women are but moths around the pale, +flame-like blossom. + +It was long since young Jolyon's escapade--there was danger of a +tradition again arising that people in their position never cross +the hedge to pluck that flower; that one could reckon on having +love, like measles, once in due season, and getting over it +comfortably for all time--as with measles, on a soothing mixture +of butter and honey--in the arms of wedlock. + +Of all those whom this strange rumour about Bosinney and Mrs. +Soames reached, James was the most affected. He had long +forgotten how he had hovered, lanky and pale, in side whiskers of +chestnut hue, round Emily, in the days of his own courtship. He +had long forgotten the small house in the purlieus of Mayfair, +where he had spent the early days of his married life, or rather, +he had long forgotten the early days, not the small house,--a +Forsyte never forgot a house--he had afterwards sold it at a +clear profit of four hundred pounds. + +He had long, forgotten those days, with their hopes and fears and +doubts about the prudence of the match (for Emily, though pretty, +had nothing, and he himself at that time was making a bare +thousand a year), and that strange, irresistible attraction which +had drawn him on, till he felt he must die if he could not marry +the girl with the fair hair, looped so neatly back, the fair arms +emerging from a skin-tight bodice, the fair form decorously +shielded by a cage of really stupendous circumference. + +James had passed through the fire, but he had passed also through +the river of years which washes out the fire; he had experienced +the saddest experience of all--forgetfulness of what it was like +to be in love. + +Forgotten! Forgotten so long, that he had forgotten even that he +had forgotten. + +And now this rumour had come upon him, this rumour about his +son's wife; very vague, a shadow dodging among the palpable, +straightforward appearances of things, unreal, unintelligible as +a ghost, but carrying with it, like a ghost, inexplicable terror. + +He tried to bring it home to his mind, but it was no more use +than trying to apply to himself one of those tragedies he read of +daily in his evening paper. He simply could not. There could be +nothing in it. It was all their nonsense. She didn't get on +with Soames as well as she might, but she was a good little +thing--a good little thing! + +Like the not inconsiderable majority of men, James relished a +nice little bit of scandal, and would say, in a matter-of-fact +tone, licking his lips, "Yes, yes--she and young Dyson; they tell +me they're living at Monte Carlo!" + +But the significance of an affair of this sort--of its past, its +present, or its future--had never struck him. What it meant, +what torture and raptures had gone to its construction, what +slow, overmastering fate had lurked within the facts, very naked, +sometimes sordid, but generally spicy, presented to his gaze. He +was not in the habit of blaming, praising, drawing deductions, or +generalizing at all about such things; he simply listened rather +greedily, and repeated what he was told, finding considerable +benefit from the practice, as from the consumption of a sherry +and bitters before a meal. + +Now, however, that such a thing--or rather the rumour, the breath +of it--had come near him personally, he felt as in a fog, which +filled his mouth full of a bad, thick flavour, and made it +difficult to draw breath. + +A scandal! A possible scandal! + +To repeat this word to himself thus was the only way in which he +could focus or make it thinkable. He had forgotten the +sensations necessary for understanding the progress, fate, or +meaning of any such business; he simply could no longer grasp the +possibilities of people running any risk for the sake of passion. + +Amongst all those persons of his acquaintance, who went into the +City day after day and did their business there, whatever it was, +and in their leisure moments bought shares, and houses, and ate +dinners, and played games, as he was told, it would have seemed +to him ridiculous to suppose that there were any who would run +risks for the sake of anything so recondite, so figurative, as +passion. + +Passion! He seemed, indeed, to have heard of it, and rules such +as 'A young man and a young woman ought never to be trusted +together' were fixed in his mind as the parallels of latitude are +fixed on a map (for all Forsytes, when it comes to 'bed-rock' +matters of fact, have quite a fine taste in realism); but as to +anything else--well, he could only appreciate it at all through +the catch-word 'scandal.' + +Ah! but there was no truth in it--could not be. He was not +afraid; she was really a good little thing. But there it was +when you got a thing like that into your mind. And James was of +a nervous temperament--one of those men whom things will not +leave alone, who suffer tortures from anticipation and +indecision. For fear of letting something slip that he might +otherwise secure, he was physically unable to make up his mind +until absolutely certain that, by not making it up, he would +suffer loss. + +In life, however, there were many occasions when the business of +making up his mind did not even rest with himself, and this was +one of them. + +What could he do? Talk it over with Soames? That would only +make matters worse. And, after all, there was nothing in it, he +felt sure. + +It was all that house. He had mistrusted the idea from the +first. What did Soames want to go into the country for? And, if +he must go spending a lot of money building himself a house, why +not have a first-rate man, instead of this young Bosinney, whom +nobody knew anything about? He had told them, how it would be. +And he had heard that the house was costing Soames a pretty penny +beyond what he had reckoned on spending. + +This fact, more than any other, brought home to James the real +danger of the situation. It was always like this with these +'artistic' chaps; a sensible man should have nothing to say to +them. He had warned Irene, too. And see what had come of it! + +And it suddenly sprang into James's mind that he ought to go and +see for himself. In the midst of that fog of uneasiness in which +his mind was enveloped the notion that he could go and look at +the house afforded him inexplicable satisfaction. It may have +been simply the decision to do something--more possibly the fact +that he was going to look at a house--that gave him relief. +He felt that in staring at an edifice of bricks and mortar, of +wood and stone, built by the suspected man himself, he would be +looking into the heart of that rumour about Irene. + +Without saying a word, therefore, to anyone, he took a hansom to +the station and proceeded by train to Robin Hill; thence--there +being no 'flies,' in accordance with the custom of the +neighbourhood--he found himself obliged to walk. + +He started slowly up the hill, his angular knees and high +shoulders bent complainingly, his eyes fixed on his feet, yet, +neat for all that, in his high hat and his frock-coat, on which +was the speckless gloss imparted by perfect superintendence. +Emily saw to that; that is, she did not, of course, see to it-- +people of good position not seeing to each other's buttons, and +Emily was of good position--but she saw that the butler saw to +it. + +He had to ask his way three times; on each occasion he repeated +the directions given him, got the man to repeat them, then +repeated them a second time, for he was naturally of a talkative +disposition, and one could not be too careful in a new +neighbourhood. + +He kept assuring them that it was a new house he was looking for; +it was only, however, when he was shown the roof through the +trees that he could feel really satisfied that he had not been +directed entirely wrong. + +A heavy sky seemed to cover the world with the grey whiteness of +a whitewashed ceiling. There was no freshness or fragrance in +the air. On such a day even British workmen scarcely cared to do +more then they were obliged, and moved about their business +without the drone of talk which whiles away the pangs of labour. + +Through spaces of the unfinished house, shirt-sleeved figures +worked slowly, and sounds arose--spasmodic knockings, the +scraping of metal, the sawing of wood, with the rumble of +wheelbarrows along boards; now and again the foreman's dog, +tethered by a string to an oaken beam, whimpered feebly, with a +sound like the singing of a kettle. + +The fresh-fitted window-panes, daubed each with a white patch in +the centre, stared out at James like the eyes of a blind dog. + +And the building chorus went on, strident and mirthless under the +grey-white sky. But the thrushes, hunting amongst the fresh- +turned earth for worms, were silent quite. + +James picked his way among the heaps of gravel--the drive was +being laid--till he came opposite the porch. Here he stopped and +raised his eyes. There was but little to see from this point of +view, and that little he took in at once; but he stayed in this +position many minutes, and who shall know of what he thought. + +His china-blue eyes under white eyebrows that jutted out in +little horns, never stirred; the long upper lip of his wide +mouth, between the fine white whiskers, twitched once or twice; +it was easy to see from that anxious rapt expression, whence +Soames derived the handicapped look which sometimes came upon his +face. James might have been saying to himself: 'I don't know-- +life's a tough job.' + +In this position Bosinney surprised him. + +James brought his eyes down from whatever bird's-nest they had +been looking for in the sky to Bosinney's face, on which was a +kind of humorous scorn. + +"How do you do, Mr. Forsyte? Come down to see for yourself?" + +It was exactly what James, as we know, had come for, and he was +made correspondingly uneasy. He held out his hand, however, +saying: + +"How are you?" without looking at Bosinney. + +The latter made way for him with an ironical smile. + +James scented something suspicious in this courtesy. "I should +like to walk round the outside first," he said, "and see what +you've been doing!" + +A flagged terrace of rounded stones with a list of two or three +inches to port had been laid round the south-east and south-west +sides of the house, and ran with a bevelled edge into mould, +which was in preparation for being turfed; along this terrace +James led the way. + +"Now what did this cost?" he asked, when he saw the terrace +extending round the corner. + +"What should you think?" inquired Bosinney. + +"How should I know?" replied James somewhat nonplussed; "two or +three hundred, I dare say!" + +"The exact sum!" + +James gave him a sharp look, but the architect appeared +unconscious, and he put the answer down to mishearing. + +On arriving at the garden entrance, he stopped to look at the +view. + +"That ought to come down," he said, pointing to the oak-tree. + +"You think so? You think that with the tree there you don't get +enough view for your money." + +Again James eyed him suspiciously--this young man had a peculiar +way of putting things: "Well!" he said, with a perplexed, +nervous, emphasis, "I don't see what you want with a tree." + +"It shall come down to-morrow," said Bosinney. + +James was alarmed. "Oh," he said, "don't go saying I said it was +to come down! I know nothing about it!" + +"No?" + +James went on in a fluster: "Why, what should I know about it? +It's nothing to do with me! You do it on your own +responsibility." + +"You'll allow me to mention your name?" + +James grew more and more alarmed: "I don't know what you want +mentioning my name for," he muttered; "you'd better leave the +tree alone. It's not your tree!" + +He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped his brow. They entered +the house. Like Swithin, James was impressed by the inner +court-yard. + +You must have spent a douce of a lot of money here," he said, +after staring at the columns and gallery for some time. "Now, +what did it cost to put up those columns?" + +"I can't tell you off-hand," thoughtfully answered Bosinney, "but +I know it was a deuce of a lot!" + +"I should think so," said James. "I should...." He caught the +architect's eye, and broke off. And now, whenever he came to +anything of which he desired to know the cost, he stifled that +curiosity. + +Bosinney appeared determined that he should see everything, and +had not James been of too 'noticing=a nature, he would +certainly have found himself going round the house a second time. +He seemed so anxious to be asked questions, too, that James felt +he must be on his guard. He began to suffer from his exertions, +for, though wiry enough for a man of his long build, he was +seventy-five years old. + +He grew discouraged; he seemed no nearer to anything, had not +obtained from his inspection any of the knowledge he had vaguely +hoped for. He had merely increased his dislike and mistrust of +this young man, who had tired him out with his politeness, and in +whose manner he now certainly detected mockery. + +The fellow was sharper than he had thought, and better-looking +than he had hoped. He had a--a 'don't care' appearance that +James, to whom risk was the most intolerable thing in life, did +not appreciate; a peculiar smile, too, coming when least +expected; and very queer eyes. He reminded James, as he said +afterwards, of a hungry cat. This was as near as he could get, +in conversation with Emily, to a description of the peculiar +exasperation, velvetiness, and mockery, of which Bosinney's +manner had been composed. + +At last, having seen all that was to be seen, he came out again +at the door where he had gone in; and now, feeling that he was +wasting time and strength and money, all for nothing, he took the +courage of a Forsyte in both hands, and, looking sharply at +Bosinney, said: + +"I dare say you see a good deal of my daughter-in-law; now, what +does she think of the house? But she hasn't seen it, I suppose?" + +This he said, knowing all about Irene's visit not, of course, +that there was anything in the visit, except that extraordinary +remark she had made about 'not caring to get home'--and the story +of how June had taken the news! + +He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give +Bosinney a chance, as he said to himself. + +The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with +uncomfortable steadiness on James. + +"She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of, +it." + +Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from +letting the matter drop. + +"Oh!" he said, "she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I +suppose?" + +Bosinney smilingly replied: "Oh, no!" + +"What, did she come down alone?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then--who brought her?" + +"I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought +her." + +To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared +incomprehensible. + +"Why!" he stammered, "you know that...." but he stopped, suddenly +perceiving his danger. + +"Well," he said, "if you don't want to tell me I suppose you +won't! Nobody tells me anything." + +Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question. + +"By the by," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to +be any more of you coming down? I should like to be on the +spot!" + +"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I +don't know of any more. Good-bye?" + +Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of +it with Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, +walked away along the terrace. + +Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney +following him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to +himself, 'like a great cat.' He paid no attention when the young +fellow raised his hat. + +Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still +more. Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, +and disheartened, he made his way back to the station. + +The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps +for his behaviour to the old man. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND + + +James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, +having occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter +connected with a drainage scheme which was being forced by the +sanitary authorities on his, brother, he mentioned it there. + +It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal +could be made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though +what it was going to cost Soames before it was done with he +didn't know. + +Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come +round to borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and +Paregoric', which was having such a vogue--chimed in. + +"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were +having a nice little chat in the Groceries." + +It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really +made a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been +hurrying to the silk department of the Church and Commercial +Stores--that Institution than which, with its admirable system, +admitting only guaranteed persons on a basis of payment before +delivery, no emporium can be more highly recommended to Forsytes- +-to match a piece of prunella silk for her mother, who was +waiting in the carriage outside. + +Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted +by the back view of a very beautiful, figure. It was so +charmingly proportioned, so balanced, and so well clothed, that +Euphemia's instinctive propriety was at once alarmed; such +figures, she knew, by intuition rather than experience, were +rarely connected with virtue--certainly never in her mind, for +her own back was somewhat difficult to fit. + +Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming +from the Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the +lady with the unknown back. + +It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was +undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing +herself rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for +she was impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her +hands, and at the busy time of the morning, she was quite +unintentionally an interested observer of their little interview. + +Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in +her cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though +attractive (she thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, +and Georges name for him, 'The Buccaneer--about which there was +something romantic--quite charming). He seemed to be pleading. +Indeed, they talked so earnestly--or, rather, he talked so +earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not say much--that they caused, +inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One nice old General, +going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of the way, +and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually +took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man! + +But it was Mrs. Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never +once looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she +looked after him. And, oh, that look! + +On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not +too much to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering +softness, for all the world as though the woman wanted to +drag him back, and unsay something she had been saying. + +Ah, well, she had had no time to go deeply into the matter just +then, with that prunella silk on her hands; but she was 'very +intriguee--very! She had just nodded to Mrs. Soames, to show her +that she had seen; and, as she confided, in talking it over +afterwards, to her chum Francie (Roger's daughter), "Didn't she +look caught out just? ...." + +James, most averse at the first blush to accepting any news +confirmatory of his own poignant suspicions, took her up at once. + +"Oh" he said, "they'd be after wall-papers no doubt." + +Euphemia smiled. "In the Groceries?" she said softly; and, +taking 'Passion and Paregoric' from the table, added: "And so +you'll lend me this, dear Auntie? Good-bye!" and went away. + +James left almost immediately after; he was late as it was. + +When he reached the office of Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte, he +found Soames, sitting in his revolving, chair, drawing up a +defence. The latter greeted his father with a curt good-morning, +and, taking an envelope from his pocket, said: + +"It may interest you to look through this." + +James read as follows: + + +309D, SLOANE STREET, +May 15. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'The construction of your house being now completed, my duties as +architect have come to an end. If I am to go on with the +business of decoration, which at your request I undertook, I +should like you to clearly understand that I must have a free +hand. + +'You never come down without suggesting something that goes +counter to my scheme. I have here three letters from you, each +of which recommends an article I should never dream of putting +in. I had your father here yesterday afternoon, who made further +valuable suggestions. + +'Please make up your mind, therefore, whether you want me to +decorate for you, or to retire which on the whole I should prefer +to do. + +'But understand that, if I decorate, I decorate alone, without +interference of any sort. + +If I do the thing, I will do it thoroughly, but I must have a +free hand. + +'Yours truly, + +'PHILIP BOSINNEY.' + + +The exact and immediate cause of this letter cannot, of course, +be told, though it is not improbable that Bosinney may have been +moved by some sudden revolt against his position towards Soames-- +that eternal position of Art towards Property--which is so +admirably summed up, on the back of the most indispensable of +modern appliances, in a sentence comparable to the very finest in +Tacitus: + + +THOS. T. SORROW, Inventor. +BERT M. PADLAND, Proprietor. + + +"What are you going to say to him?" James asked. + +Soames did not even turn his head. "I haven't made up my mind," +he said, and went on with his defence. + +A client of his, having put some buildings on a piece of ground +that did not belong to him, had been suddenly and most irritat- +ingly warned to take them off again. After carefully going into +the facts, however, Soames had seen his way to advise that his +client had what was known as a title by possession, and that, +though undoubtedly the ground did not belong to him, he was +entitled to keep it, and had better do so; and he was now +following up this advice by taking steps to--as the sailors say-- +'make it so.' + +He had a distinct reputation for sound advice; people saying of +him: "Go to young Forsyte--a long-headed fellow!" and he prized +this reputation highly. + +His natural taciturnity was in his favour; nothing could be more +calculated to give people, especially people with property +(Soames had no other clients), the impression that he was a safe +man. And he was safe. Tradition, habit, education, inherited +aptitude, native caution, all joined to form a solid professional +honesty, superior to temptation--from the very fact that it was +built on an innate avoidance of risk. How could he fall, when +his soul abhorred circumstances which render a fall possible--a +man cannot fall off the floor! + +And those countless Forsytes, who, in the course of innumerable +transactions concerned with property of all sorts (from wives to +water rights), had occasion for the services of a safe man, +found it both reposeful and profitable to confide in Soames. +That slight superciliousness of his, combined with an air of +mousing amongst precedents, was in his favour too--a man would +not be supercilious unless he knew! + +He was really at the head of the business, for though James still +came nearly every day to, see for himself, he did little now but +sit in his chair, twist his legs, slightly confuse things already +decided, and presently go away again, and the other partner, +Bustard, was a poor thing, who did a great deal of work, but +whose opinion was never taken. + +So Soames went steadily on with his defence. Yet it would be +idle to say that his mind was at ease. He was suffering from a +sense of impending trouble, that had haunted him for some time +past. He tried to think it physical--a condition of his liver-- +but knew that it was not. + +He looked at his watch. In a quarter of an hour he was due at +the General Meeting of the New Colliery Company--one of Uncle +Jolyon's concerns; he should see Uncle Jolyon there, and say +something to him about Bosinney--he had not made up his mind +what, but something--in any case he should not answer this letter +until he had seen Uncle Jolyon. He got up and methodically put +away the draft of his defence. Going into a dark little +cupboard, he turned up the light, washed his hands with a piece +of brown Windsor soap, and dried them on a roller towel. Then he +brushed his hair, paying strict attention to the parting, turned +down the light, took his hat, and saying he would be back at +half-past two, stepped into the Poultry. + +It was not far to the Offices of the New Colliery Company in +Ironmonger Lane, where, and not at the Cannon Street Hotel, in +accordance with the more ambitious practice of other companies, +the General Meeting was always held. Old Jolyon had from the +first set his face against the Press. What business--he said-- +had the Public with his concerns! + +Soames arrived on the stroke of time, and took his seat alongside +the Board, who, in a row, each Director behind his own ink-pot, +faced their Shareholders. + +In the centre of this row old Jolyon, conspicuous in his black, +tightly-buttoned frock-coat and his white moustaches, was leaning +back with finger tips crossed on a copy of the Directors' report +and accounts. + +On his right hand, always a little larger than life, sat the +Secretary, 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings; an all-too-sad sadness +beaming in his fine eyes; his iron-grey beard, in mourning like +the rest of him, giving the feeling of an all-too-black tie +behind it. + +The occasion indeed was a melancholy one, only six weeks having +elapsed since that telegram had come from Scorrier, the mining +expert, on a private mission to the Mines, informing them that +Pippin, their Superintendent, had committed suicide in +endeavouring, after his extraordinary two years' silence, to +write a letter to his Board. That letter was on the table now; +it would be read to the Shareholders, who would of course be put +into possession of all the facts. + +Hemmings had often said to Soames, standing with his coat-tails +divided before the fireplace: + +"What our Shareholders don't know about our affairs isn't worth +knowing. You may take that from me, Mr. Soames." + +On one occasion, old Jolyon being present, Soames recollected a +little unpleasantness. His uncle had looked up sharply and said: +"Don't talk nonsense, Hemmings! You mean that what they do know +isn't worth knowing!" Old Jolyon detested humbug. + +Hemmings, angry-eyed, and wearing a smile like that of a trained +poodle, had replied in an outburst of artificial applause: "Come, +now, that's good, sir--that's very good. Your uncle will have +his joke!" + +The next time he had seen Soames: he had taken the opportunity of +saying to him: "The chairman's getting very old!--I can't get him +to understand things; and he's so wilful--but what can you +expect, with a chin like his?" + +Soames had nodded. + +Everyone knew that Uncle Jolyon's chin was a caution. He was +looking worried to-day, in spite of his General Meeting look; he +(Soames) should certainly speak to him about Bosinney. + +Beyond old Jolyon on the left was little Mr. Booker, and he, too, +wore his General Meeting look, as though searching for some +particularly tender shareholder. And next him was the deaf +director, with a frown; and beyond the deaf director, again, was +old Mr. Bleedham, very bland, and having an air of conscious +virtue--as well he might, knowing that the brown-paper parcel he +always brought to the Board-room was concealed behind his hat +(one of that old-fashioned class, of flat-brimmed top-hats which +go with very large bow ties, clean-shaven lips, fresh cheeks, and +neat little, white whiskers). + +Soames always attended the General Meeting; it was considered +better that he should do so, in case 'anything should arise!' He +glanced round with his close, supercilious air at the walls of +the room, where hung plans of the mine and harbour, together with +a large photograph of a shaft leading to a working which had +proved quite remarkably unprofitable. This photograph--a witness +to the eternal irony underlying commercial enterprise till +retained its position on the--wall, an effigy of the directors' +pet, but dead, lamb. + +And now old Jolyon rose, to present the report and accounts. + +Veiling under a Jove-like serenity that perpetual antagonism +deep-seated in the bosom of a director towards his shareholders, +he faced them calmly. Soames faced them too. He knew most of +them by sight. There was old Scrubsole, a tar man, who always +came, as Hemmings would say, 'to make himself nasty,' a +cantankerous-looking old fellow with a red face, a jowl, and an +enormous low-crowned hat reposing on his knee. And the Rev. Mr. +Boms, who always proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman, in +which he invariably expressed the hope that the Board would not +forget to elevate their employees, using the word with a double +e, as being more vigorous and Anglo-Saxon (he had the strong +Imperialistic tendencies of his cloth). It was his salutary +custom to buttonhole a director afterwards, and ask him whether +he thought the coming year would be good or bad; and, according +to the trend of the answer, to buy or sell three shares within +the ensuing fortnight. + +And there was that military man, Major O'Bally, who could not +help speaking, if only to second the re-election of the auditor, +and who sometimes caused serious consternation by taking toasts-- +proposals rather--out of the hands of persons who had been +flattered with little slips of paper, entrusting the said +proposals to their care. + +These made up the lot, together with four or five strong, silent +shareholders, with whom Soames could sympathize--men of business, +who liked to keep an eye on their affairs for themselves, without +being fussy--good, solid men, who came to the City every day and +went back in the evening to good, solid wives. + +Good, solid wives! There was something in that thought which +roused the nameless uneasiness in Soames again. + +What should he say to his uncle? What answer should he make to +this letter? + +. . . . "If any shareholder has any question to put, I shall +be glad to answer it." A soft thump. Old Jolyon had let the +report and accounts fall, and stood twisting his tortoise-shell +glasses between thumb and forefinger. + +The ghost of a smile appeared on Soames' face. They had better +hurry up with their questions! He well knew his uncle's method +(the ideal one) of at once saying: "I propose, then, that the +report and accounts be adopted!" Never let them get their wind-- +shareholders were notoriously wasteful of time! + +A tall, white-bearded man, with a gaunt, dissatisfied face, +arose: + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman, in raising a question on +this figure of L5000 in the accounts. 'To the widow and +family"' (he looked sourly round), "'of our late superintendent,' +who so--er--ill-advisedly (I say--ill-advisedly) committed +suicide, at a time when his services were of the utmost value to +this Company. You have stated that the agreement which he has so +unfortunately cut short with his own hand was for a period of +five years, of which one only had expired--I--" + +Old Jolyon made a gesture of impatience. + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman--I ask whether this amount +paid, or proposed to be paid, by the Board to the er--deceased-- +is for services which might have been rendered to the Company-- +had he not committed suicide?" + +"It is in recognition of past services, which we all know--you as +well as any of us--to have been of vital value." + +"Then, sir, all I have to say is, that the services being past, +the amount is too much." + +The shareholder sat down. + +Old Jolyon waited a second and said: "I now propose that the +report and--" + +The shareholder rose again: "May I ask if the Board realizes +that it is not their money which--I don't hesitate to say that if +it were their money...." + +A second shareholder, with a round, dogged face, whom Soames +recognised as the late superintendent's brother-in-law, got up +and said warmly: "In my opinion, sir, the sum is not enough!" + +The Rev. Mr. Boms now rose to his feet. "If I may venture to +express myself," he said, "I should say that the fact of the--er- +-deceased having committed suicide should weigh very heavily-- +very heavily with our worthy chairman. I have no doubt it has +weighed with him, for--I say this for myself and I think for +everyone present (hear, hear)--he enjoys our confidence in a high +degree. We all desire, I should hope, to be charitable. But I +feel sure" (he-looked severely at the late superintendent's +brother-in-law) "that he will in some way, by some written +expression, or better perhaps by reducing the amount, record our +grave disapproval that so promising and valuable a life should +have been thus impiously removed from a sphere where both its own +interests and--if I may say so--our interests so imperatively +demanded its continuance. We should not--nay, we may not-- +countenance so grave a dereliction of all duty, both human and +divine." + +The reverend gentleman resumed his seat. The late super- +intendent's brother-in-law again rose: "What I have said I +stick to," he said; "the amount is not enough!" + +The first shareholder struck in: "I challenge the legality of the +payment. In my opinion this payment is not legal. The Company's +solicitor is present; I believe I am in order in asking him the +question." + +All eyes were now turned upon Soames. Something had arisen! + +He stood up, close-lipped and cold; his nerves inwardly +fluttered, his attention tweaked away at last from contemplation +of that cloud looming on the horizon of his mind. + +"The point," he said in a low, thin voice, "is by no means clear. +As there is no possibility of future consideration being +received, it is doubtful whether the payment is strictly legal. +If it is desired, the opinion of the court could be taken." + +The superintendent's brother-in-law frowned, and said in a +meaning tone: "We have no doubt the opinion of the court could be +taken. May I ask the name of the gentleman who has given us that +striking piece of information? Mr. Soames Forsyte? Indeed!" He +looked from Soames to old Jolyon in a pointed manner. + +A flush coloured Soames' pale cheeks, but his superciliousness +did not waver. Old Jolyon fixed his eyes on the speaker. + +"If," he said, "the late superintendents brother-in-law has +nothing more to say, I propose that the report and accounts...." + +At this moment, however, there rose one of those five silent, +stolid shareholders, who had excited Soames' sympathy. He said: + +"I deprecate the proposal altogether. We are expected to give +charity to this man's wife and children, who, you tell us, were +dependent on him. They may have been; I do not care whether they +were or not. I object to the whole thing on principle. It is +high time a stand was made against this sentimental human- +itarianism. The country is eaten up with it. I object to +my money being paid to these people of whom I know nothing, who +have done nothing to earn it. I object in toto; it is not +business. I now move that the report and accounts be put back, +and amended by striking out the grant altogether." + +Old Jolyon had remained standing while the strong, silent man was +speaking. The speech awoke an echo in all hearts, voicing, as it +did, the worship of strong men, the movement against generosity, +which had at that time already commenced among the saner members +of the community. + +The words 'it is not business' had moved even the Board; +privately everyone felt that indeed it was not. But they knew +also the chairman's domineering temper and tenacity. He, too, at +heart must feel that it was not business; but he was committed to +his own proposition. Would he go back upon it? It was thought +to be unlikely. + +All waited with interest. Old Jolyon held up his hand; +dark-rimmed glasses depending between his finger and thumb +quivered slightly with a suggestion of menace. + +He addressed the strong, silent shareholder. + +"Knowing, as you do, the efforts of our late superintendent upon +the occasion of the explosion at the mines, do you seriously wish +me to put that amendment, sir?" + +"I do." + +Old Jolyon put the amendment. + +"Does anyone second this?" he asked, looking calmly round. + +And it was then that Soames, looking at his uncle, felt the power +of will that was in that old man. No one stirred. Looking +straight into the eyes of the strong, silent shareholder, old +Jolyon said: + +"I now move, 'That the report and accounts for the year 1886 be +received and adopted.' You second that? Those in favour signify +the same in the usual way. Contrary--no. Carried. The next +business, gentlemen...." + +Soames smiled. Certainly Uncle Jolyon had a way with him! + +But now his attention relapsed upon Bosinney. + +Odd how that fellow haunted his thoughts, even in business hours. + +Irene's visit to the house--but there was nothing in that, except +that she might have told him; but then, again, she never did tell +him anything. She was more silent, more touchy, every day. He +wished to God the house were finished, and they were in it, away +from London. Town did not suit her; her nerves were not strong +enough. That nonsense of the separate room had cropped up again! + +The meeting was breaking up now. Underneath the photograph of +the lost shaft Hemmings was buttonholed by the Rev. Mr. Boms. +Little Mr. Booker, his bristling eyebrows wreathed in angry +smiles, was having a parting turn-up with old Scrubsole. The two +hated each other like poison. There was some matter of a +tar-contract between them, little Mr. Booker having secured it +from the Board for a nephew of his, over old Scrubsole's head. +Soames had heard that from Hemmings, who liked a gossip, more +especially about his directors, except, indeed, old Jolyon, of +whom he was afraid. + +Soames awaited his opportunity. The last shareholder was +vanishing through the door, when he approached his uncle, who was +putting on his hat. + +"Can I speak to you for a minute, Uncle Jolyon?" + +It is uncertain what Soames expected to get out of this +interview. + +Apart from that somewhat mysterious awe in which Forsytes: in +general held old Jolyon, due to his philosophic twist, or +perhaps--as Hemmings would doubtless have said--to his chin, +there was, and always had been, a subtle antagonism between the +younger man and the old. It had lurked under their dry manner of +greeting, under their non-committal allusions to each other, and +arose perhaps from old Jolyon's perception of the quiet tenacity +('obstinacy,' he rather naturally called it) of the young man, of +a secret doubt whether he could get his own way with him. + +Both these Forsytes, wide asunder as the poles in many respects, +possessed in their different ways--to a greater degree than the +rest of the family--that essential quality of tenacious and +prudent insight into 'affairs,' which is the highwater mark of +their great class. Either of them, with a little luck and +opportunity, was equal to a lofty career; either of them would +have made a good financier, a great contractor, a statesman, +though old Jolyon, in certain of his moods when under the +influence of a cigar or of Nature--would have been capable of, +not perhaps despising, but certainly of questioning, his own high +position, while Soames, who never smoked cigars, would not. + +Then, too, in old Jolyon's mind there was always the secret ache, +that the son of James--of James, whom he had always thought such +a poor thing, should be pursuing the paths of success, while his +own son...! + +And last, not least--for he was no more outside the radiation of +family gossip than any other Forsyte he had now heard the +sinister, indefinite, but none the less disturbing rumour about +Bosinney, and his pride was wounded to the quick. + +Characteristically, his irritation turned not against Irene but +against Soames. The idea that his nephew's wife (why couldn't +the fellow take better care of her--Oh! quaint injustice! as +though Soames could possibly take more care!)--should be drawing +to herself June's lover, was intolerably humiliating. And seeing +the danger, he did not, like James, hide it away in sheer +nervousness, but owned with the dispassion of his broader +outlook, that it was not unlikely; there was something very +attractive about Irene! + +He had a presentiment on the subject, of Soames' communication as +they left the Board Room together, and went out into the noise +and hurry of Cheapside. They walked together a good minute +without speaking, Soames with his mousing, mincing step, and old +Jolyon upright and using his umbrella languidly as a +walking-stick. + +They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon's +way to a second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street. + +Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: "I've had this +letter from Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I'd let +you know. I've spent a lot more than I intended on this house, +and I want the position to be clear." + +Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: "What he +says is clear enough," he said. + +"He talks about 'a free hand,"' replied Soames. + +Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and +antagonism towards this young fellow, whose affairs were +beginning to intrude upon his own, burst from him. + +"Well, if you don't trust him, why do you employ him?" + +Soames stole a sideway look: "It's much too late to go into +that," he said, "I only want it to be quite understood that if I +give him a free hand, he doesn't let me in. I thought if you +were to speak to him, it would carry more weight!" + +"No," said old Jolyon abruptly; "I'll have nothing to do with +it!" + +The words of both uncle and nephew gave the impression of +unspoken meanings, far more important, behind. And the look they +interchanged was like a revelation of this consciousness. + +"Well," said Soames; "I thought, for June's sake, I'd tell you, +that's all; I thought You'd better know I shan't stand any +nonsense!" + +"What is that to me?" old Jolyon took him up. + +"Oh! I don't know," said Soames, and flurried by that sharp look +he was unable to say more. "Don't say I didn't tell you," he +added sulkily, recovering his composure. + +"Tell me!" said old Jolyon; "I don't know what you mean. You +come worrying me about a thing like this. I don't want to hear +about your affairs; you must manage them yourself!" + +"Very well," said Soames immovably, "I will!" + +"Good-morning, then," said old Jolyon, and they parted. + +Soames retraced his steps, and going into a celebrated eating- +house, asked for a plate of smoked salmon and a glass of +Chablis; he seldom ate much in the middle of the day, and +generally ate standing, finding the position beneficial to his +liver, which was very sound, but to which he desired to put down +all his troubles. + +When he had finished he went slowly back to his office, with bent +head, taking no notice of the swarming thousands on the +pavements, who in their turn took no notice of him. + +The evening post carried the following reply to Bosinney: + + +'FORSYTE, BUSTARD AND FORSYTE, +'Commissioners for Oaths, +'92001, BRANCH LANE, POULTRY, E.C., + +'May 17, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I have, received your letter, the terms of which not a little +surprise me. I was under the impression that you had, and have +had all along, a "free hand"; for I do not recollect that any +suggestions I have been so unfortunate as to make, have met with +your approval. In giving you, in accordance with your request, +this "free hand," I wish you to clearly understand that the total +cost of the house as handed over to me completely decorated, +inclusive of your fee (as arranged between us), must not exceed +twelve thousand pounds--L12,000. This gives you an ample margin, +and, as you know, is far more than I originally contemplated. + +'I am, +'Yours truly, + + 'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +On the following day he received a note from Bosinney: + + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY, +'Architect, +'309D, SLOANE STREET, S.W., +'May 18. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'If you think that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can +bind myself to the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken. I +can see that you are tired of the arrangement, and of me, and I +had better, therefore, resign. + +'Yours faithfully, + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY.' + + +Soames pondered long and painfully over his answer, and late at +night in the dining-room, when Irene had gone to bed, he composed +the following: + + +'62, MONTPELLIER SQUARE, S.W., +'May 19, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I think that in both our interests it would be extremely +undesirable that matters should be so left at this stage. I did +not mean to say that if you should exceed the sum named in my +letter to you by ten or twenty or even fifty pounds, there would +be any difficulty between us. This being so, I should like you +to reconsider your answer. You have a "free hand" in the terms +of this correspondence, and I hope you will see your way to +completing the decorations, in the matter of which I know it is +difficult to be absolutely exact. + +'Yours truly, + +'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +Bosinney's answer, which came in the course of the next day, was: + + +'May 20. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'Very well. + +'PH. BOSINNEY.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OLD JOLYON AT THE ZOO + + +Old Jolyon disposed of his second Meeting--an ordinary Board-- +summarily. He was so dictatorial that his fellow directors were +left in cabal over the increasing domineeringness of old Forsyte, +which they were far from intending to stand much longer, they +said. + +He went out by Undergound to Portland Road Station, whence he +took a cab and drove to the Zoo. + +He had an assignation there, one of those assignations that had +lately been growing more frequent, to which his increasing +uneasiness about June and the 'change in her,' as he expressed +it, was driving him. + +She buried herself away, and was growing thin; if he spoke to her +he got no answer, or had his head snapped off, or she looked as +if she would burst into tears. She was as changed as she could +be, all through this Bosinney. As for telling him about +anything, not a bit of it! + +And he would sit for long spells brooding, his paper unread +before him, a cigar extinct between his lips. She had been such +a companion to him ever since she was three years old! And he +loved her so! + +Forces regardless of family or class or custom were beating down +his guard; impending events over which he had no control threw +their shadows on his head. The irritation of one accustomed to +have his way was, roused against he knew not what. + +Chafing at the slowness of his cab, he reached the Zoo door; but, +with his sunny instinct for seizing the good of each moment, he +forgot his vexation as he walked towards the tryst. + +From the stone terrace above the bear-pit his son and his two +grandchildren came hastening down when they saw old Jolyon +coming, and led him away towards the lion-house. They supported +him on either side, holding one to each of his hands,--whilst +Jolly, perverse like his father, carried his grandfather's +umbrella in such a way as to catch people's legs with the crutch +of the handle. + +Young Jolyon followed. + +It was as good as a play to see his father with the children, but +such a play as brings smiles with tears behind. An old man and +two small children walking together can be seen at any hour of +the day; but the sight of old Jolyon, with Jolly and Holly seemed +to young Jolyon a special peep-show of the things that lie at the +bottom of our hearts. The complete surrender of that erect old +figure to those little figures on either hand was too poignantly +tender, and, being a man of an habitual reflex action, young +Jolyon swore softly under his breath. The show affected him in a +way unbecoming to a Forsyte, who is nothing if not undemonstrative. + +Thus they reached the lion-house. + +There had been a morning fete at the Botanical Gardens, and a +large number of Forsy...'--that is, of well-dressed people who +kept carriages had brought them on to the Zoo, so as to have +more, if possible, for their money, before going back to Rutland +Gate or Bryanston Square. + +"Let's go on to the Zoo," they had said to each other; "it'll be +great fun!" It was a shilling day; and there would not be all +those horrid common people. + +In front of the long line of cages they were collected in rows, +watching the tawny, ravenous beasts behind the bars await their +only pleasure of the four-and-twenty hours. The hungrier the +beast, the greater the fascination. But whether because the +spectators envied his appetite, or, more humanely, because it +was so soon to be satisfied, young Jolyon could not tell. +Remarks kept falling on his ears: "That's a nasty-looking brute, +that tiger!" "Oh, what a love! Look at his little mouth!" +"Yes, he's rather nice! Don't go too near, mother." + +And frequently, with little pats, one or another would clap their +hands to their pockets behind and look round, as though expecting +young Jolyon or some disinterested-looking person to relieve them +of the contents. + +A well-fed man in a white waistcoat said slowly through his +teeth: "It's all greed; they can't be hungry. Why, they take no +exercise." At these words a tiger snatched a piece of bleeding +liver, and the fat man laughed. His wife, in a Paris model frock +and gold nose-nippers, reproved him: "How can you laugh, Harry? +Such a horrid sight!" + +Young Jolyon frowned. + +The circumstances of his life, though he had ceased to take a too +personal view of them, had left him subject to an intermittent +contempt; and the class to which he had belonged--the carriage +class--especially excited his sarcasm. + +To shut up a lion or tiger in confinement was surely a horrible +barbarity. But no cultivated person would admit this. + +The idea of its being barbarous to confine wild animals had +probably never even occurred to his father for instance; he +belonged to the old school, who considered it at once humanizing +and educational to confine baboons and panthers, holding the +view, no doubt, that in course of time they might induce these +creatures not so unreasonably to die of misery and heart- +sickness. against the bars of their cages, and put the society +to the expense of getting others! In his eyes, as in the eyes +of all Forsytes, the pleasure of seeing these beautiful +creatures in a state of captivity far outweighed the +inconvenience of imprisonment to beasts whom God had so +improvidently placed in a state of freedom! It was for the +animals good, removing them at once from the countless dangers +of open air and exercise, and enabling them to exercise their +functions in the guaranteed seclusion of a private compartment! +Indeed, it was doubtful what wild animals were made for but to be +shut up in cages! + +But as young Jolyon had in his constitution the elements of +impartiality, he reflected that to stigmatize as barbarity that +which was merely lack of imagination must be wrong; for none who +held these views had been placed in a similar position to the +animals they caged, and could not, therefore, be expected to +enter into their sensations. It was not until they were leaving +the gardens--Jolly and Holly in a state of blissful delirium-- +that old Jolyon found an opportunity of speaking to his son on +the matter next his heart. "I don't know what to make of it," he +said; "if she's to go on as she's going on now, I can't tell +what's to come. I wanted her to see the doctor, but she won't. +She's not a bit like me. She's your mother all over. Obstinate +as a mule! If she doesn't want to do a thing, she won't, and +there's an end of it!" + +Young Jolyon smiled; his eyes had wandered to his father's chin. +'A pair of you,' he thought, but he said nothing. + +"And then," went on old Jolyon, "there's this Bosinney. I +should like to punch the fellow's head, but I can't, I suppose, +though--I don't see why you shouldn't," he added doubtfully. + +"What has he done? Far better that it should come to an end, if +they don't hit it off!" + +Old Jolyon looked at his son. Now they had actually come to +discuss a subject connected with the relations between the sexes +he felt distrustful. Jo would be sure to hold some loose view or +other. + +"Well, I don't know what you think," he said; "I dare say your +sympathy's with him--shouldn't be surprised; but I think he's +behaving precious badly, and if he comes my way I shall tell him +so." He dropped the subject. + +It was impossible to discuss with his son the true nature and +meaning of Bosinney's defection. Had not his son done the very +same thing (worse, if possible) fifteen years ago? There seemed +no end to the consequences of that piece of folly. + +Young Jolyon also was silent; he had quickly penetrated his +father's thought, for, dethroned from the high seat of an obvious +and uncomplicated view of things, he had become both perceptive +and subtle. + +The attitude he had adopted towards sexual matters fifteen years +before, however, was too different from his father's. There was +no bridging the gulf. + +He said coolly: "I suppose he's fallen in love with some other +woman?" + +Old Jolyon gave him a dubious look: "I can't tell," he said; +"they say so!" + +"Then, it's probably true," remarked young Jolyon unexpectedly; +"and I suppose they've told you who she is?" + +"Yes," said old Jolyon, "Soames's wife!" + +Young Jolyon did not whistle: The circumstances of his own life +had rendered him incapable of whistling on such a subject, but he +looked at his father, while the ghost of a smile hovered over his +face. + +If old Jolyon saw, he took no notice. + +"She and June were bosom friends!" he muttered. + +"Poor little June!" said young Jolyon softly. He thought of his +daughter still as a babe of three. + +Old Jolyon came to a sudden halt. + +"I don't believe a word of it," he said, "it's some old woman's +tale. Get me a cab, Jo, I'm tired to death!" + +They stood at a corner to see if an empty cab would come along, +while carriage after carriage drove past, bearing Forsytes of all +descriptions from the Zoo. The harness, the liveries, the gloss +on the horses' coats, shone and glittered in the May sunlight, +and each equipage, landau, sociable, barouche, Victoria, or +brougham, seemed to roll out proudly from its wheels: + + +'I and my horses and my men you know,' +Indeed the whole turn-out have cost a pot. +But we were worth it every penny. Look +At Master and at Missis now, the dawgs! +Ease with security--ah! that's the ticket! + + +And such, as everyone knows, is fit accompaniment for a +perambulating Forsyte. + +Amongst these carriages was a barouche coming at a greater pace +than the others, drawn by a pair of bright bay horses. It swung +on its high springs, and the four people who filled it seemed +rocked as in a cradle. + +This chariot attracted young Jolyon's attention; and suddenly, on +the back seat, he recognised his Uncle James, unmistakable in +spite of the increased whiteness of his whiskers; opposite, their +backs defended by sunshades, Rachel Forsyte and her elder but +married sister, Winifred Dartie, in irreproachable toilettes, had +posed their heads haughtily, like two of the birds they had been +seeing at the Zoo; while by James' side reclined Dartie, in a +brand-new frock-coat buttoned tight and square, with a large +expanse of carefully shot linen protruding below each wristband. + +An extra, if subdued, sparkle, an added touch of the best gloss +or varnish characterized this vehicle, and seemed to distinguish +it from all the others, as though by some happy extravagance-- +like that which marks out the real 'work of art' from the +ordinary 'picture'--it were designated as the typical car, the +very throne of Forsytedom. + +Old Jolyon did not see them pass; he was petting poor Holly who +was tired, but those in the carriage had taken in the little +group; the ladies' heads tilted suddenly, there was a spasmodic +screening movement of parasols; James' face protruded naively, +like the head of a long bird, his mouth slowly opening. The +shield-like rounds of the parasols grew smaller and smaller, and +vanished. + +Young Jolyon saw that he had been recognised, even by Winifred, +who could not have been more than fifteen when he had forfeited +the right to be considered a Forsyte. + +There was not much change in them! He remembered the exact look +of their turn-out all that time ago: Horses, men, carriage--all +different now, no doubt--but of the precise stamp of fifteen +years before; the same neat display, the same nicely calculated +arrogance ease with security! The swing exact, the pose of the +sunshades exact, exact the spirit of the whole thing. + +And in the sunlight, defended by the haughty shields of parasols, +carriage after carriage went by. + +"Uncle James has just passed, with his female folk," said young +Jolyon. + +His father looked black. "Did your uncle see us? Yes? Hmph! +What's he want, coming down into these parts?" + +An empty cab drove up at this moment, and old Jolyon stopped it. + +"I shall see you again before long, my boy!" he said. "Don't you +go paying any attention to what I've been saying about young +Bosinney--I don't believe a word of it!" + +Kissing the children, who tried to detain him, he stepped in and +was borne away. + +Young Jolyon, who had taken Holly up in his arms, stood +motionless at the corner, looking after the cab. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AFTERNOON AT TIMOTHY'S + + +If old Jolyon, as he got into his cab, had said: 'I won't believe +a word of it!' he would more truthfully have expressed his +sentiments. + +The notion that James and his womankind had seen him in the +company of his son had awakened in him not only the impatience he +always felt when crossed, but that secret hostility natural +between brothers, the roots of which--little nursery rivalries-- +sometimes toughen and deepen as life goes on, and, all hidden, +support a plant capable of producing in season the bitterest +fruits. + +Hitherto there had been between these six brothers no more +unfriendly feeling than that caused by the secret and natural +doubt that the others might be richer than themselves; a feeling +increased to the pitch of curiosity by the approach of death-- +that end of all handicaps--and the great 'closeness' of their man +of business, who, with some sagacity, would profess to Nicholas +ignorance of James' income, to James ignorance of old Jolyon's, +to Jolyon ignorance of Roger's, to Roger ignorance of Swithin's, +while to Swithin he would say most irritatingly that Nicholas +must be a rich man. Timothy alone was exempt, being in +gilt-edged securities. + +But now, between two of them at least, had arisen a very +different sense of injury. From the moment when James had the +impertinence to pry into his affairs--as he put it--old Jolyon no +longer chose to credit this story about Bosinney. His grand- +daughter slighted through a member of 'that fellow's' family! +He made up his mind that Bosinney was maligned. There must be +some other reason for his defection. + +June had flown out at him, or something; she was as touchy as she +could be! + +He would, however, let Timothy have a bit of his mind, and see if +he would go on dropping hints! And he would not let the grass +grow under his feet either, he would go there at once, and take +very good care that he didn't have to go again on the same +errand. + +He saw James' carriage blocking the pavement in front of 'The +Bower.' So they had got there before him--cackling about having +seen him, he dared say! And further on, Swithin's greys were +turning their noses towards the noses of James' bays, as though +in conclave over the family, while their coachmen were in +conclave above. + +Old Jolyon, depositing his hat on the chair in the narrow hall, +where that hat of Bosinney's had so long ago been mistaken for a +cat, passed his thin hand grimly over his face with its great +drooping white moustaches, as though to remove all traces of +expression, and made his way upstairs. + +He found the front drawing-room full. It was full enough at the +best of times--without visitors--without any one in it--for +Timothy and his sisters, following the tradition of their +generation, considered that a room was not quite 'nice' unless it +was 'properly' furnished. It held, therefore, eleven chairs, a +sofa, three tables, two cabinets, innumerable knicknacks, and +part of a large grand piano. And now, occupied by Mrs. Small, +Aunt Hester, by Swithin, James, Rachel, Winifred, Euphemia, who +had come in again to return 'Passion and Paregoric' which she had +read at lunch, and her chum Frances, Roger's daughter (the +musical Forsyte, the one who composed songs), there was only one +chair left unoccupied, except, of course, the two that nobody +ever sat on--and the only standing room was occupied by the cat, +on whom old Jolyon promptly stepped. + +In these days it was by no means unusual for Timothy to have so +many visitors. The family had always, one and all, had a real +respect for Aunt Ann, and now that she was gone, they were coming +far more frequently to The Bower, and staying longer. + +Swithin had been the first to arrive, and seated torpid in a red +satin chair with a gilt back, he gave every appearance of lasting +the others out. And symbolizing Bosinney's name 'the big one,' +with his great stature and bulk, his thick white hair, his puffy +immovable shaven face, he looked more primeval than ever in the +highly upholstered room. + +His conversation, as usual of late, had turned at once upon +Irene, and he had lost no time in giving Aunts Juley and Hester +his opinion with regard to this rumour he heard was going about. +No--as he said--she might want a bit of flirtation--a pretty +woman must have her fling; but more than that he did not believe. +Nothing open; she had too much good sense, too much proper +appreciation of what was due to her position, and to the family! +No sc..., he was going to say 'scandal' but the very idea was so +preposterous that he waved his hand as though to say--'but let +that pass!' + +Granted that Swithin took a bachelor's view of the situation-- +still what indeed was not due to that family in which so many had +done so well for themselves, had attained a certain position? If +he had heard in dark, pessimistic moments the words 'yeomen' and +'very small beer' used in connection with his origin, did he +believe them? + +No! he cherished, hugging it pathetically to his bosom, the +secret theory that there was something distinguished somewhere in +his ancestry. + +"Must be," he once said to young Jolyon, before the latter went +to the bad. "Look at us, we've got on! There must be good blood +in us somewhere." + +He had been fond of young Jolyon: the boy had been in a good set +at College, had, known that old ruffian Sir Charles Fiste's +sons--a pretty rascal one of them had turned out, too; and there +was style about him--it was a thousand pities he had run off with +that half-foreign governess! If he must go off like that why +couldn't he have chosen someone who would have done them credit! +And what was he now?--an underwriter at Lloyd's; they said he +even painted pictures--pictures! Damme! he might have ended as +Sir Jolyon Forsyte, Bart., with a seat in Parliament, and a place +in the country! + +It was Swithin who, following the impulse which sooner or later +urges thereto some member of every great family, went to the +Heralds' Office, where they assured him that he was undoubtedly +of the same family as the well-known Forsites with an 'i,' whose +arms were 'three dexter buckles on a sable ground gules,' hoping +no doubt to get him to take them up. + +Swithin, however, did not do this, but having ascertained that +the crest was a 'pheasant proper,' and the motto 'For Forsite,' +he had the pheasant proper placed upon his carriage and the +buttons of his coachman, and both crest and motto on his +writing-paper. The arms he hugged to himself, partly because, +not having paid for them, he thought it would look ostentatious +to put them on his carriage, and he hated ostentation, and partly +because he, like any practical man all over the country, had a +secret dislike and contempt for things he could not understand he +found it hard, as anyone might, to swallow 'three dexter buckles +on a sable ground gules.' + +He never forgot, however, their having told him that if he paid +for them he would be entitled to use them, and it strengthened +his conviction that he was a gentleman. Imperceptibly the rest +of the family absorbed the 'pheasant proper,' and some, more +serious than others, adopted the motto; old Jolyon, however, +refused to use the latter, saying that it was humbug meaning +nothing, so far as he could see. + +Among the older generation it was perhaps known at bottom from +what great historical event they derived their crest; and if +pressed on the subject, sooner than tell a lie--they did not like +telling lies, having an impression that only Frenchmen and +Russians told them--they would confess hurriedly that Swithin had +got hold of it somehow. + +Among the younger generation the matter was wrapped in a +discretion proper. They did not want to hurt the feelings of +their elders, nor to feel ridiculous themselves; they simply used +the crest.... + +"No," said Swithin, "he had had an opportunity of seeing for +himself, and what he should say was, that there was nothing in +her manner to that young Buccaneer or Bosinney or whatever his +name was, different from her manner to himself; in fact, he +should rather say...." But here the entrance of Frances +and Euphemia put an unfortunate stop to the conversation, for +this was not a subject which could be discussed before young +people. + +And though Swithin was somewhat upset at being stopped like this +on the point of saying something important, he soon recovered his +affability. He was rather fond of Frances--Francie, as she was +called in the family. She was so smart, and they told him she +made a pretty little pot of pin-money by her songs; he called it +very clever of her. + +He rather prided himself indeed on a liberal attitude towards +women, not seeing any reason why they shouldn't paint pictures, +or write tunes, or books even, for the matter of that, especially +if they could turn a useful penny by it; not at all--kept them +out of mischief. It was not as if they were men! + +'Little Francie,' as she was usually called with good-natured +contempt, was an important personage, if only as a standing +illustration of the attitude of Forsytes towards the Arts. She +was not really 'little,' but rather tall, with dark hair for a +Forsyte, which, together with a grey eye, gave her what was +called 'a Celtic appearance.' She wrote songs with titles like +'Breathing Sighs,' or 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die,' with a +refrain like an anthem: + + +'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die; +Kiss me-kiss me, Mother, ah! +Kiss, ah! kiss me e-ere I- +Kiss me, Mother, ere I d-d-die!' + + +She wrote the words to them herself, and other poems. In lighter +moments she wrote waltzes, one of which, the 'Kensington Coil,' +was almost national to Kensington, having a sweet dip in it. + +It was very original. Then there were her 'Songs for Little +People,' at once educational and witty, especially 'Gran'ma's +Porgie,' and that ditty, almost prophetically imbued with the +coming Imperial spirit, entitled 'Black him in his little eye.' + +Any publisher would take these, and reviews like 'High Living,' +and the 'Ladies' Genteel Guide' went into raptures over: 'Another +of Miss Francie Forsyte's spirited ditties, sparkling and +pathetic. We ourselves were moved to tears and laughter. Miss +Forsyte should go far.' + +With the true instinct of her breed, Francie had made a point of +knowing the right people--people who would write about her, and +talk about her, and people in Society, too--keeping a mental +register of just where to exert her fascinations, and an eye on +that steady scale of rising prices, which in her mind's eye +represented the future. In this way she caused herself to be +universally respected. + +Once, at a time when her emotions were whipped by an attachment-- +for the tenor of Roger's life, with its whole-hearted collection +of house property, had induced in his only daughter a tendency +towards passion--she turned to great and sincere work, choosing +the sonata form, for the violin. This was the only one of her +productions that troubled the Forsytes. They felt at once that +it would not sell. + +Roger, who liked having a clever daughter well enough, and often +alluded to the amount of pocket-money she made for herself, was +upset by this violin sonata. + +"Rubbish like that!" he called it. Francie had borrowed young +Flageoletti from Euphemia, to play it in the drawing-room at +Prince's Gardens. + +As a matter of fact Roger was right. It was rubbish, but-- +annoying! the sort of rubbish that wouldn't sell. As every +Forsyte knows, rubbish that sells is not rubbish at all--far from +it. + +And yet, in spite of the sound common sense which fixed the worth +of art at what it would fetch, some of the Forsytes--Aunt +Hester, for instance, who had always been musical--could not help +regretting that Francie's music was not 'classical'; the same +with her poems. But then, as Aunt Hester said, they didn't see +any poetry nowadays, all the poems were 'little light things.' + +There was nobody who could write a poem like 'Paradise Lost,' or +'Childe Harold'; either of which made you feel that you really +had read something. Still, it was nice for Francie to have +something to occupy her; while other girls were spending money +shopping she was making it! + +And both Aunt Hester and Aunt Juley were always ready to listen +to the latest story of how Francie had got her price increased. + +They listened now, together with Swithin, who sat pretending not +to, for these young people talked so fast and mumbled so, he +never could catch what they said. + +"And I can't think," said Mrs. Septimus, "how you do it. I +should never have the audacity!" + +Francie smiled lightly. "I'd much rather deal with a man than a +woman. Women are so sharp!" + +"My dear," cried Mrs. Small, "I'm sure we're not." + +Euphemia went off into her silent laugh, and, ending with the +squeak, said, as though being strangled: "Oh, you'll kill me some +day, auntie." + +Swithin saw no necessity to laugh; he detested people laughing +when he himself perceived no joke. Indeed, he detested Euphemia +altogether, to whom he always alluded as 'Nick's daughter, what's +she called--the pale one?' He had just missed being her god- +father--indeed, would have been, had he not taken a firm stand +against her outlandish name. He hated becoming a godfather. +Swithin then said to Francie with dignity: "It's a fine day-- +er--for the time of year." But Euphemia, who knew perfectly well +that he had refused to be her godfather, turned to Aunt Hester, +and began telling her how she had seen Irene--Mrs. Soames--at the +Church and Commercial Stores. + +"And Soames was with her?" said Aunt Hester, to whom Mrs. Small +had as yet had no opportunity of relating the incident. + +"Soames with her? Of course not!" + +"But was she all alone in London?" + +"Oh, no; there was Mr. Bosinney with her. She was perfectly +dressed." + +But Swithin, hearing the name Irene, looked severely at Euphemia, +who, it is true, never did look well in a dress, whatever she may +have done on other occasions, and said: + +"Dressed like a lady, I've no doubt. It's a pleasure to see +her." + +At this moment James and his daughters were announced. Dartie, +feeling badly in want of a drink, had pleaded an appointment with +his dentist, and, being put down at the Marble Arch, had got into +a hansom, and was already seated in the window of his club in +Piccadilly. + +His wife, he told his cronies, had wanted to take him to pay some +calls. It was not in his line--not exactly. Haw! + +Hailing the waiter, he sent him out to the hall to see what had +won the 4.30 race. He was dog-tired, he said, and that was a +fact; had been drivin' about with his wife to 'shows' all the +afternoon. Had put his foot down at last. A fellow must live +his own life. + +At this moment, glancing out of the bay window--for he loved this +seat whence he could see everybody pass--his eye unfortunately, +or perhaps fortunately, chanced to light on the figure of Soames, +who was mousing across the road from the Green Park-side, with +the evident intention of coming in, for he, too, belonged to 'The +Iseeum.' + +Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered +something about 'that 4.30 race,' and swiftly withdrew to the +card-room, where Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation +and a dim light, he lived his own life till half past seven, by +which hour he knew Soames must certainly have left the club. + +It would not do, as he kept repeating to himself whenever he felt +the impulse to join the gossips in the bay-window getting too +strong for him--it absolutely would not do, with finances as low +as his, and the 'old man' (James) rusty ever since that business +over the oil shares, which was no fault of his, to risk a row +with Winifred. + +If Soames were to see him in the club it would be sure to come +round to her that he wasn't at the dentist's at all. He never +knew a family where things 'came round' so. Uneasily, amongst +the green baize card-tables, a frown on his olive coloured face, +his check trousers crossed, and patent-leather boots shining +through the gloom, he sat biting his forefinger, and wondering +where the deuce he was to get the money if Erotic failed to win +the Lancashire Cup. + +His thoughts turned gloomily to the Forsytes. What a set they +were! There was no getting anything out of them--at least, it +was a matter of extreme difficulty. They were so d---d +particular about money matters; not a sportsman amongst the lot, +unless it were George. That fellow Soames, for instance, would +have a ft if you tried to borrow a tenner from him, or, if he +didn't have a fit, he looked at you with his cursed supercilious +smile, as if you were a lost soul because you were in want of +money. + +And that wife of his (Dartie's mouth watered involuntarily), he +had tried to be on good terms with her, as one naturally would +with any pretty sister-in-law, but he would be cursed if the (he +mentally used a coarse word)--would have anything to say to him-- +she looked at him, indeed, as if he were dirt--and yet she could +go far enough, he wouldn't mind betting. He knew women; they +weren't made with soft eyes and figures like that for nothing, as +that fellow Soames would jolly soon find out, if there were +anything in what he had heard about this Buccaneer Johnny. + +Rising from his chair, Dartie took a turn across the room, ending +in front of the looking-glass over the marble chimney-piece; and +there he stood for a long time contemplating in the glass the +reflection of his face. It had that look, peculiar to some men, +of having been steeped in linseed oil, with its waxed dark +moustaches and the little distinguished commencements of side +whiskers; and concernedly he felt the promise of a pimple on the +side of his slightly curved and fattish nose. + +In the meantime old Jolyon had found the remaining chair in +Timothy's commodious drawing-room. His advent had obviously put +a stop to the conversation, decided awkwardness having set in. +Aunt Juley, with her well-known kindheartedness, hastened to set +people at their ease again. + +"Yes, Jolyon," she said, "we were just saying that you haven't +been here for a long time; but we mustn't be surprised. You're +busy, of course? James was just saying what a busy time of +year...." + +"Was he?" said old Jolyon, looking hard at James. "It wouldn't +be half so busy if everybody minded their own business." + +James, brooding in a small chair from which his knees ran uphill, +shifted his feet uneasily, and put one of them down on the cat, +which had unwisely taken refuge from old Jolyon beside him. + +"Here, you've got a cat here," he said in an injured voice, +withdrawing his foot nervously as he felt it squeezing into the +soft, furry body. + +"Several," said old Jolyon, looking at one face and another; "I +trod on one just now." + +A silence followed. + +Then Mrs. Small, twisting her fingers and gazing round with +'pathetic calm, asked: "And how is dear June?" + +A twinkle of humour shot through the sternness of old Jolyon's +eyes. Extraordinary old woman, Juley! No one quite like her for +saying the wrong thing! + +"Bad!" he said; "London don't agree with her--too many people +about, too much clatter and chatter by half." He laid emphasis on +the words, and again looked James in the face. + +Nobody spoke. + +A feeling of its being too dangerous to take a step in any +direction, or hazard any remark, had fallen on them all. +Something of the sense of the impending, that comes over the +spectator of a Greek tragedy, had entered that upholstered room, +filled with those white-haired, frockcoated old men, and +fashionably attired women, who were all of the same blood, +between all of whom existed an unseizable resemblance. + +Not that they were conscious of it--the visits of such fateful, +bitter spirits are only felt. + +Then Swithin rose. He would not sit there, feeling like that--he +was not to be put down by anyone! And, manoeuvring round the +room with added pomp, he shook hands with each separately. + +"You tell Timothy from me," he said, "that he coddles himself too +much!" Then, turning to Francie, whom he considered 'smart,' he +added: "You come with me for a drive one of these days." But this +conjured up the vision of that other eventful drive which had +been so much talked about, and he stood quite still for a second, +with glassy eyes, as though waiting to catch up with the +significance of what he himself had said; then, suddenly +recollecting that he didn't care a damn, he turned to old Jolyon: +"Well, good-bye, Jolyon! You shouldn't go about without an +overcoat; you'll be getting sciatica or something!" And, kicking +the cat slightly with the pointed tip of his patent leather boot, +he took his huge form away. + +When he had gone everyone looked secretly at the others, to see +how they had taken the mention of the word 'drive'--the word +which had become famous, and acquired an overwhelming importance, +as the only official--so to speak--news in connection with the +vague and sinister rumour clinging to the family tongue. + +Euphemia, yielding to an impulse, said with a short laugh: "I'm +glad Uncle Swithin doesn't ask me to go for drives." + +Mrs. Small, to reassure her and smooth over any little +awkwardness the subject might have, replied: "My dear, he likes +to take somebody well dressed, who will do him a little credit. +I shall never forget the drive he took me. It was an +experience!" And her chubby round old face was spread for a +moment with a strange contentment; then broke into pouts, and +tears came into her eyes. She was thinking of that long ago +driving tour she had once taken with Septimus Small. + +James, who had relapsed into his nervous brooding in the little +chair, suddenly roused himself: "He's a funny fellow, Swithin," +he said, but in a half-hearted way. + +Old Jolyon's silence, his stern eyes, held them all in a kind of +paralysis. He was disconcerted himself by the effect of his own +words--an effect which seemed to deepen the importance of the +very rumour he had come to scotch; but he was still angry. + +He had not done with them yet--No, no--he would give them another +rub or two + +He did not wish to rub his nieces, he had no quarrel with them--a +young and presentable female always appealed to old Jolyon's +clemency--but that fellow James, and, in a less degree perhaps, +those others, deserved all they would get. And he, too, asked +for Timothy. + +As though feeling that some danger threatened her younger +brother, Aunt Juley suddenly offered him tea: "There it is," she +said, "all cold and nasty, waiting for you in the back drawing +room, but Smither shall make you some fresh." + +Old Jolyon rose: "Thank you," he said, looking straight at James, +"but I've no time for tea, and--scandal, and the rest of it! +It's time I was at home. Good-bye, Julia; good-bye, Hester; +good-bye, Winifred." + +Without more ceremonious adieux, he marched out. + +Once again in his cab, his anger evaporated, for so it ever was +with his wrath--when he had rapped out, it was gone. Sadness +came over his spirit. He had stopped their mouths, maybe, but at +what a cost! At the cost of certain knowledge that the rumour he +had been resolved not to believe was true. June was abandoned, +and for the wife of that fellow's son! He felt it was true, and +hardened himself to treat it as if it were not; but the pain he +hid beneath this resolution began slowly, surely, to vent itself +in a blind resentment against James and his son. + +The six women and one man left behind in the little drawing-room +began talking as easily as might be after such an occurrence, for +though each one of them knew for a fact that he or she never +talked scandal, each one of them also knew that the other six +did; all were therefore angry and at a loss. James only was +silent, disturbed, to the bottom of his soul. + +Presently Francie said: "Do you know, I think Uncle Jolyon is +terribly changed this last year. What do you think, Aunt +Hester?" + +Aunt Hester made a little movement of recoil: "Oh, ask your Aunt +Julia!" she said; "I know nothing about it." + +No one else was afraid of assenting, and James muttered gloomily +at the floor: "He's not half the man he was." + +"I've noticed it a long time," went on Francie; "he's aged +tremendously." + +Aunt Juley shook her head; her face seemed suddenly to have +become one immense pout. + +"Poor dear Jolyon," she said, "somebody ought to see to it for +him!" + +There was again silence; then, as though in terror of being left +solitarily behind, all five visitors rose simultaneously, and +took their departure. + +Mrs. Small, Aunt Hester, and their cat were left once more alone, +the sound of a door closing in the distance announced the +approach of Timothy. + +That evening, when Aunt Hester had just got off to sleep in the +back bedroom that used to be Aunt Juley's before Aunt Juley took +Aunt Ann's, her door was opened, and Mrs. Small, in a pink +night-cap, a candle in her hand, entered: "Hester!" she said. +"Hester!" + +Aunt Hester faintly rustled the sheet. + +"Hester," repeated Aunt Juley, to make quite sure that she had +awakened her, "I am quite troubled about poor dear Jolyon. +What," Aunt Juley dwelt on the word, "do you think ought to be +done?" + +Aunt Hester again rustled the sheet, her voice was heard faintly +pleading: "Done? How should I know?" + +Aunt Juley turned away satisfied, and closing the door with extra +gentleness so as not to disturb dear Hester, let it slip through +her fingers and fall to with a 'crack.' + +Back in her own room, she stood at the window gazing at the moon +over the trees in the Park, through a chink in the muslin +curtains, close drawn lest anyone should see. And there, with +her face all round and pouting in its pink cap, and her eyes wet, +she thought of 'dear Jolyon,' so old and so lonely, and how she +could be of some use to him; and how he would come to love her, +as she had never been loved since--since poor Septimus went away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DANCE AT ROGER'S + + +Roger's house in Prince's Gardens was brilliantly alight. Large +numbers of wax candles had been collected and placed in cut-glass +chandeliers, and the parquet floor of the long, double +drawing-room reflected these constellations. An appearance of +real spaciousness had been secured by moving out all the +furniture on to the upper landings, and enclosing the room with +those strange appendages of civilization known as 'rout' seats. +In a remote corner, embowered in palms, was a cottage piano, with +a copy of the 'Kensington Coil' open on the music-stand. + +Roger had objected to a band. He didn't see in the least what +they wanted with a band; he wouldn't go to the expense, and there +was an end of it. Francie (her mother, whom Roger had long since +reduced to chronic dyspepsia, went to bed on such occasions), had +been obliged to content herself with supplementing the piano by a +young man who played the cornet, and she so arranged with palms +that anyone who did not look into the heart of things might +imagine there were several musicians secreted there. She made up +her mind to tell them to play loud--there was a lot of music in a +cornet, if the man would only put his soul into it. + +In the more cultivated American tongue, she was 'through' at +last--through that tortuous labyrinth of make-shifts, which must +be traversed before fashionable display can be combined with the +sound economy of a Forsyte. Thin but brilliant, in her +maize-coloured frock with much tulle about the shoulders, she +went from place to place, fitting on her gloves, and casting her +eye over it all. + +To the hired butler (for Roger only kept maids) she spoke about +the wine. Did he quite understand that Mr. Forsyte wished a +dozen bottles of the champagne from Whiteley's to be put out? +But if that were finished (she did not suppose it would be, most +of the ladies would drink water, no doubt), but if it were, there +was the champagne cup, and he must do the best he could with +that. + +She hated having to say this sort of thing to a butler, it was so +infra dig.; but what could you do with father? Roger, indeed, +after making himself consistently disagreeable about the dance, +would come down presently, with his fresh colour and bumpy +forehead, as though he had been its promoter; and he would smile, +and probably take the prettiest woman in to supper; and at two +o'clock, just as they were getting into the swing, he would go up +secretly to the musicians and tell them to play 'God Save the +Queen,' and go away. + +Francie devoutly hoped he might soon get tired, and slip off to +bed. + +The three or four devoted girl friends who were staying in the +house for this dance, had partaken with her, in a small, +abandoned room upstairs, of tea and cold chicken-legs, hurriedly +served; the men had been sent out to dine at Eustace's Club, it +being felt that they must be fed up. + +Punctually on the stroke of nine arrived Mrs. Small alone. She +made elaborate apologies for the absence of Timothy, omitting all +mention of Aunt Hester, who, at the last minute, had said she +could not be bothered. Francie received her effusively, and +placed her on a rout seat, where she left her, pouting and +solitary in lavender-coloured satin--the first time she had worn +colour since Aunt Ann's death. + +The devoted maiden friends came now from their rooms, each by +magic arrangement in a differently coloured frock, but all with +the same liberal allowance of tulle on the shoulders and at the +bosom--for they were, by some fatality, lean to a girl. They +were all taken up to Mrs. Small. None stayed with her more than +a few seconds, but clustering together talked and twisted their +programmes, looking secretly at the door for the first appearance +of a man. + +Then arrived in a group a number of Nicholases, always punctual-- +the fashion up Ladbroke Grove way; and close behind them Eustace +and his men, gloomy and smelling rather of smoke. + +Three or four of Francie's lovers now appeared, one after the +other; she had made each promise to come early. They were all +clean-shaven and sprightly, with that peculiar kind of young-man +sprightliness which had recently invaded Kensington; they did not +seem to mind each other's presence in the least, and wore their +ties bunching out at the ends, white waistcoats, and socks with +clocks. All had handkerchiefs concealed in their cuffs. They +moved buoyantly, each armoured in professional gaiety, as though +he had come to do great deeds. Their faces when they danced, far +from wearing the traditional solemn look of the dancing, English- +man, were irresponsible, charming, suave; they bounded, twirling +their partners at great pace, without pedantic attentionto the +rhythm of the music. + +At other dancers they looked with a kind of airy scorn--they, the +light brigade, the heroes of a hundred Kensington 'hops'--from +whom alone could the right manner and smile and step be hoped. + +After this the stream came fast; chaperones silting up along the +wall facing the entrance, the volatile element swelling the eddy +in the larger room. + +Men were scarce, and wallflowers wore their peculiar, pathetic +expression, a patient, sourish smile which seemed to say: "Oh, +no! don't mistake me, I know you are not coming up to me. I can +hardly expect that!" And Francie would plead with one of her +lovers, or with some callow youth: "Now, to please me, do let me +introduce you to Miss Pink; such a nice girl, really!" and she +would bring him up, and say: "Miss Pink--Mr. Gathercole. Can you +spare him a dance?" Then Miss Pink, smiling her forced smile, +colouring a little, answered: "Oh! I think so!" and screening +her empty card, wrote on it the name of Gathercole, spelling it +passionately in the district that he proposed, about the second +extra. + +But when the youth had murmured that it was hot, and passed, she +relapsed into her attitude of hopeless expectation, into her +patient, sourish smile. + +Mothers, slowly fanning their faces, watched their daughters, and +in their eyes could be read all the story of those daughters' +fortunes. As for themselves, to sit hour after hour, dead tired, +silent, or talking spasmodically--what did it matter, so long as +the girls were having a good time! But to see them neglected and +passed by! Ah! they smiled, but their eyes stabbed like the +eyes of an offended swan; they longed to pluck young, Gathercole +by the slack of his dandified breeches, and drag him to their +daughters--the jackanapes! + +And all the cruelties and hardness of life, its pathos and +unequal chances, its conceit, self-forgetfulness, and patience, +were presented on the battle-field of this Kensington ball-room. + +Here and there, too, lovers--not lovers like Francie's, a +peculiar breed, but simply lovers--trembling, blushing, silent, +sought each other by flying glances, sought to meet and touch in +the mazes of the dance, and now and again dancing together, +struck some beholder by the light in their eyes. + +Not a second before ten o'clock came the Jameses--Emily, Rachel, +Winifred (Dartie had been left behind, having on a former +occasion drunk too much of Roger's champagne), and Cicely, the +youngest, making her debut; behind them, following in a hansom +from the paternal mansion where they had dined, Soames and Irene. + +All these ladies had shoulder-straps and no tulle--thus showing +at once, by a bolder exposure of flesh, that they came from the +more fashionable side of the Park. + +Soames, sidling back from the contact of the dancers, took up a +position against the wall. Guarding himself with his pale smile, +he stood watching. Waltz after waltz began and ended, couple +after couple brushed by with smiling lips, laughter, and snatches +of talk; or with set lips, and eyes searching the throng; or +again, with silent, parted lips, and eyes on each other. And the +scent of festivity, the odour of flowers, and hair, of essences +that women love, rose suffocatingly in the heat of the summer +night. + +Silent, with something of scorn in his smile, Soames seemed to +notice nothing; but now and again his eyes, finding that which +they sought, would fix themselves on a point in the shifting +throng, and the smile die off his lips. + +He danced with no one. Some fellows danced with their wives; his +sense of 'form' had never permitted him to dance with Irene since +their marriage, and the God of the Forsytes alone can tell +whether this was a relief to him or not. + +She passed, dancing with other men, her dress, iris-coloured, +floating away from her feet. She danced well; he was tired of +hearing women say with an acid smile: "How beautifully your wife +dances, Mr. Forsyte--it's quite a pleasure to watch her!" Tired +of answering them with his sidelong glance: "You think so?" + +A young couple close by flirted a fan by turns, making an +unpleasant draught. Francie and one of her lovers stood near. +They were talking of love. + +He heard Roger's voice behind, giving an order about supper to a +servant. Everything was very second-class! He wished that he +had not come! He had asked Irene whether she wanted him; she had +answered with that maddening smile of hers "Oh, no!" + +Why had he come? For the last quarter of an hour he had not even +seen her. Here was George advancing with his Quilpish face; it +was too late to get out of his way. + +"Have you seen 'The Buccaneer'?" said this licensed wag; "he's on +the warpath--hair cut and everything!" + +Soames said he had not, and crossing the room, half-empty in an +interval of the dance, he went out on the balcony, and looked +down into the street. + +A carriage had driven up with late arrivals, and round the door +hung some of those patient watchers of the London streets who +spring up to the call of light or music; their faces, pale and +upturned above their black and rusty figures, had an air of +stolid watching that annoyed Soames. Why were they allowed to +hang about; why didn't the bobby move them on? + +But the policeman took no notice of them; his feet were planted +apart on the strip of crimson carpet stretched across the +pavement; his face, under the helmet, wore the same stolid, +watching look as theirs. + +Across the road, through the railings, Soames could see the +branches of trees shining, faintly stirring in the breeze, by the +gleam of the street lamps; beyond, again, the upper lights of the +houses on the other side, so many eyes looking down on the quiet +blackness of the garden; and over all, the sky, that wonderful +London sky, dusted with the innumerable reflection of countless +lamps; a dome woven over between its stars with the refraction of +human needs and human fancies--immense mirror of pomp and misery +that night after night stretches its kindly mocking over miles of +houses and gardens, mansions and squalor, over Forsytes, +policemen, and patient watchers in the streets. + +Soames turned away, and, hidden in the recess, gazed into the +lighted room. It was cooler out there. He saw the new arrivals, +June and her grandfather, enter. What had made them so late? +They stood by the doorway. They looked fagged. Fancy Uncle +Jolyon turning out at this time of night! Why hadn't June come +to Irene, as she usually did, and it occurred to him suddenly +that he had seen nothing of June for a long time now. + +Watching her face with idle malice, he saw it change, grow so +pale that he thought she would drop, then flame out crimson. +Turning to see at what she was looking, he saw his wife on +Bosinney's arm, coming from the conservatory at the end of the +room. Her eyes were raised to his, as though answering some +question he had asked, and he was gazing at her intently. + +Soames looked again at June. Her hand rested on old Jolyon's +arm; she seemed to be making a request. He saw a surprised look +on his uncle's face; they turned and passed through the door out +of his sight. + +The music began again--a waltz--and, still as a statue in the +recess of the window, his face unmoved, but no smile on his lips, +Soames waited. Presently, within a yard of the dark balcony, his +wife and Bosinney passed. He caught the perfume of the gardenias +that she wore, saw the rise and fall of her bosom, the languor in +her eyes, her parted lips, and a look on her face that he did not +know. To the slow, swinging measure they danced by, and it +seemed to him that they clung to each other; he saw her raise her +eyes, soft and dark, to Bosinney's, and drop them again. + +Very white, he turned back to the balcony, and leaning on it, +gazed down on the Square; the figures were still there looking up +at the light with dull persistency, the policeman's face, too, +upturned, and staring, but he saw nothing of them. Below, a +carriage drew up, two figures got in, and drove away.... + +That evening June and old Jolyon sat down to dinner at the usual +hour. The girl was in her customary high-necked frock, old +Jolyon had not dressed. + +At breakfast she had spoken of the dance at Uncle Roger's, she +wanted to go; she had been stupid enough, she said, not to think +of asking anyone to take her. It was too late now. + +Old Jolyon lifted his keen eyes. June was used to go to dances +with Irene as a matter of course! And deliberately fixing his +gaze on her, he asked: "Why don't you get Irene?" + +No! June did not want to ask Irene; she would only go if--if her +grandfather wouldn't mind just for once for a little time! + +At her look, so eager and so worn, old Jolyon had grumblingly +consented. He did not know what she wanted, he said, with going +to a dance like this, a poor affair, he would wager; and she no +more fit for it than a cat! What she wanted was sea air, and +after his general meeting of the Globular Gold Concessions he was +ready to take her. She didn't want to go away? Ah! she would +knock herself up! Stealing a mournful look at her, he went on +with his breakfast. + +June went out early, and wandered restlessly about in the heat. +Her little light figure that lately had moved so languidly about +its business, was all on fire. She bought herself some flowers. +She wanted--she meant to look her best. He would be there! She +knew well enough that he had a card. She would show him that she +did not care. But deep down in her heart she resolved that +evening to win him back. She came in flushed, and talked +brightly all lunch; old Jolyon was there, and he was deceived. + +In the afternoon she was overtaken by a desperate fit of sobbing. +She strangled the noise against the pillows of her bed, but when +at last it ceased she saw in the glass a swollen face with +reddened eyes, and violet circles round them. She stayed in the +darkened room till dinner time. + +All through that silent meal the struggle went on within her. + +She looked so shadowy and exhausted that old Jolyon told 'Sankey' +to countermand the carriage, he would not have her going out.... +She was to go to bed! She made no resistance. She went up to +her room, and sat in the dark. At ten o'clock she rang for her +maid. + +"Bring some hot water, and go down and tell Mr. Forsyte that I +feel perfectly rested. Say that if he's too tired I can go to +the dance by myself." + +The maid looked askance, and June turned on her imperiously. +"Go," she said, "bring the hot water at once!" + +Her ball-dress still lay on the sofa, and with a sort of fierce +care she arrayed herself, took the flowers in her hand, and went +down, her small face carried high under its burden of hair. She +could hear old Jolyon in his room as she passed. + +Bewildered and vexed, he was dressing. It was past ten, they +would not get there till eleven; the girl was mad. But he dared +not cross her the expression of her face at dinner haunted him. + +With great ebony brushes he smoothed his hair till it shone like +silver under the light; then he, too, came out on the gloomy +staircase. + +June met him below, and, without a word, they went to the +carriage. + +When, after that drive which seemed to last for ever, she entered +Roger's drawing-room, she disguised under a mask of resolution a +very torment of nervousness and emotion. The feeling of shame at +what might be called 'running after him' was smothered by the +dread that he might not be there, that she might not see him +after all, and by that dogged resolve--somehow, she did not know +how--to win him back. + +The sight of the ballroom, with its gleaming floor, gave her a +feeling of joy, of triumph, for she loved dancing, and when +dancing she floated, so light was she, like a strenuous, eager +little spirit. He would surely ask her to dance, and if he +danced with her it would all be as it was before. She looked +about her eagerly. + +The sight of Bosinney coming with Irene from the conservatory, +with that strange look of utter absorption on his face, struck +her too suddenly. They had not seen--no one should see--her +distress, not even her grandfather. + +She put her hand on Jolyon's arm, and said very low: + +"I must go home, Gran; I feel ill." + +He hurried her away, grumbling to himself that he had known how +it would be. + +To her he said nothing; only when they were once more in the +carriage, which by some fortunate chance had lingered near the +door, he asked her: "What is it, my darling?" + +Feeling her whole slender body shaken by sobs, he was terribly +alarmed. She must have Blank to-morrow. He would insist upon +it. He could not have her like this.... There, there! + +June mastered her sobs, and squeezing his hand feverishly, she +lay back in her corner, her face muffled in a shawl. + +He could only see her eyes, fixed and staring in the dark, but he +did not cease to stroke her hand with his thin fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVENING AT RICHMOND + + +Other eyes besides the eyes of June and of Soames had seen 'those +two' (as Euphemia had already begun to call them) coming from the +conservatory; other eyes had noticed the look on Bosinney's face. + +There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath +the careless calm of her ordinary moods--violent spring flashing +white on almond-blossom through the purple clouds; a snowy, +moonlit peak, with its single star, soaring up to the passionate +blue; or against the flames of sunset, an old yew-tree standing +dark guardian of some fiery secret. + +There are moments, too, when in a picture-gallery, a work, noted +by the casual spectator as '......Titian--remarkably fine,' +breaks through the defences of some Forsyte better lunched +perhaps than his fellows, and holds him spellbound in a kind of +ecstasy. There are things, he feels--there are things here +which--well, which are things. Something unreasoning, +unreasonable, is upon him; when he tries to define it with the +precision of a practical man, it eludes him, slips away, as the +glow of the wine he has drunk is slipping away, leaving him +cross, and conscious of his liver. He feels that he has been +extravagant, prodigal of something; virtue has gone out of him. +He did not desire this glimpse of what lay under the three stars +of his catalogue. God forbid that he should know anything about +the forces of Nature! God forbid that he should admit for a +moment that there are such things! Once admit that, and where +was he? One paid a shilling for entrance, and another for the +programme. + +The look which June had seen, which other Forsytes had seen, was +like the sudden flashing of a candle through a hole in some +imaginary canvas, behind which it was being moved--the sudden +flaming-out of a vague, erratic glow, shadowy and enticing. It +brought home to onlookers the consciousness that dangerous forces +were at work. For a moment they noticed it with pleasure, with +interest, then felt they must not notice it at all. + +It supplied, however, the reason of June's coming so late and +disappearing again without dancing, without even shaking hands +with her lover. She was ill, it was said, and no wonder. + +But here they looked at each other guiltily. They had no desire +to spread scandal, no desire to be ill-natured. Who would have? +And to outsiders no word was breathed, unwritten law keeping them +silent. + +Then came the news that June had gone to the seaside with old +Jolyon. + +He had carried her off to Broadstairs, for which place there was +just then a feeling, Yarmouth having lost caste, in spite of +Nicholas, and no Forsyte going to the sea without intending to +have an air for his money such as would render him bilious in a +week. That fatally aristocratic tendency of the first Forsyte to +drink Madeira had left his descendants undoubtedly accessible. + +So June went to the sea. The family awaited developments; there +was nothing else to do. + +But how far--how far had 'those two' gone? How far were they +going to go? Could they really be going at all? Nothing could +surely come of it, for neither of them had any money. At the +most a flirtation, ending, as all such attachments should, at the +proper time. + +Soames' sister, Winifred Dartie, who had imbibed with the breezes +of Mayfair--she lived in Green Street--more fashionable +principles in regard to matrimonial behaviour than were current, +for instance, in Ladbroke Grove, laughed at the idea of there +being anything in it. The 'little thing'--Irene was taller than +herself, and it was real testimony to the solid worth of a +Forsyte that she should always thus be a 'little thing'--the +little thing was bored. Why shouldn't she amuse herself? Soames +was rather tiring; and as to Mr. Bosinney--only that buffoon +George would have called him the Buccaneer--she maintained that +he was very chic. + +This dictum--that Bosinney was chic--caused quit a sensation. It +failed to convince. That he was 'good-looking in a way' they +were prepared to admit, but that anyone could call a man with his +pronounced cheekbones, curious eyes, arid soft felt hats chic was +only another instance of Winifred's extravagant way of running +after something new. + +It was that famous summer when extravagance was fashionable, when +the very earth was extravagant, chestnut-trees spread with +blossom, and flowers drenched in perfume, as they had never been +before; when roses blew in every garden; and for the swarming +stars the nights had hardly space; when every day and all day +long the sun, in full armour, swung his brazen shield above the +Park, and people did strange things, lunching and dining in the +open air. Unprecedented was the tale of cabs and carriages that +streamed across the bridges of the shining river, bearing the +upper-middle class in thousands to the green glories of Bushey, +Richmond, Kew, and Hampton Court. Almost every family with any +pretensions to be of the carriage-class paid one visit that year +to the horse-chestnuts at Bushey, or took one drive amongst the +Spanish chestnuts of Richmond Park. Bowling smoothly, if +dustily, along, in a cloud of their own creation, they would +stare fashionably at the antlered heads which the great slow deer +raised out of a forest of bracken that promised to autumn lovers +such cover as was never seen before. And now and again, as the +amorous perfume of chestnut flowers and of fern was drifted too +near, one would say to the other: "My dear! What a peculiar +scent!" + +And the lime-flowers that year were of rare prime, near +honey-coloured. At the corners of London squares they gave out, +as the sun went down, a perfume sweeter than the honey bees had +taken--a perfume that stirred a yearning unnamable in the hearts +of Forsytes and their peers, taking the cool after dinner in the +precincts of those gardens to which they alone had keys. + +And that yearning made them linger amidst the dim shapes of +flower-beds in the failing daylight, made them turn, and turn, +and turn again, as though lovers were waiting for them--waiting +for the last light to die away under the shadow of the branches. + +Some vague sympathy evoked by the scent of the limes, some +sisterly desire to see for herself, some idea of demonstrating +the soundness of her dictum that there was 'nothing in it'; or +merely the craving to drive down to Richmond, irresistible that +summer, moved the mother of the little Darties (of little +Publius, of Imogen, Maud, and Benedict) to write the following +note to her sister-in-law: + + +'DEAR IRENE, +'June 30. + +'I hear that Soames is going to Henley tomorrow for the night. I +thought it would be great fun if we made up a little party and +drove down to, Richmond. Will you ask Mr. Bosinney, and I will +get young Flippard. + +'Emily (they called their mother Emily--it was so chic) will lend +us the carriage. I will call for you and your young man at seven +o'clock. + +'Your affectionate sister, + +'WINIFRED DARTIE. + +'Montague believes the dinner at the Crown and Sceptre to be +quite eatable.' + + +Montague was Dartie's second and better known name--his first +being Moses; for he was nothing if not a man of the world. + +Her plan met with more opposition from Providence than so +benevolent a scheme deserved. In the first place young Flippard +wrote: + + +'DEAR Mrs. DARTIE, + +'Awfully sorry. Engaged two deep. + +'Yours, + +'AUGUSTUS FLIPPARD.' + + +It was late to send into the byeways and hedges to remedy this +misfortune. With the promptitude and conduct of a mother, +Winifred fell back on her husband. She had, indeed, the decided +but tolerant temperament that goes with a good deal of profile, +fair hair, and greenish eyes. She was seldom or never at a loss; +or if at a loss, was always able to convert it into a gain. + +Dartie, too, was in good feather. Erotic had failed to win the +Lancashire Cup. Indeed, that celebrated animal, owned as he was +by a pillar of the turf, who had secretly laid many thousands +against him, had not even started. The forty-eight hours that +followed his scratching were among the darkest in Dartie's life. + +Visions of James haunted him day and night. Black thoughts about +Soames mingled with the faintest hopes. On the Friday night he +got drunk, so greatly was he affected. But on Saturday morning +the true Stock Exchange instinct triumphed within him. Owing +some hundreds, which by no possibility could he pay, he went into +town and put them all on Concertina for the Saltown Borough +Handicap. + +As he said to Major Scrotton, with whom he lunched at the Iseeum: +"That little Jew boy, Nathans, had given him the tip. He didn't +care a cursh. He wash in--a mucker. If it didn't come up--well +then, damme, the old man would have to pay!" + +A bottle of Pol Roger to his own cheek had given him a new +contempt for James. + +It came up. Concertina was squeezed home by her neck--a terrible +squeak! But, as Dartie said: There was nothing like pluck! + +He was by no means averse to the expedition to Richmond. He +would 'stand' it himself! He cherished an admiration for Irene, +and wished to be on more playful terms with her. + +At half-past five the Park Lane footman came round to say: Mrs. +Forsyte was very sorry, but one of the horses was coughing! + +Undaunted by this further blow, Winifred at once despatched +little Publius (now aged seven) with the nursery governess to +Montpellier Square. + +They would go down in hansoms and meet at the Crown and Sceptre +at 7.45. + +Dartie, on being told, was pleased enough. It was better than +going down with your back to the horses! He had no objection to +driving down with Irene. He supposed they would pick up the +others at Montpellier Square, and swop hansoms there? + +Informed that the meet was at the Crown and Sceptre, and that he +would have to drive with his wife, he turned sulky, and said it +was d---d slow! + +At seven o'clock they started, Dartie offering to bet the driver +half-a-crown he didn't do it in the three-quarters of an hour. + +Twice only did husband and wife exchange remarks on the way. + +Dartie said: "It'll put Master Soames's nose out of joint to hear +his wife's been drivin' in a hansom with Master Bosinney!" + +Winifred replied: "Don't talk such nonsense, Monty!" + +"Nonsense!" repeated Dartie. "You don't know women, my fine +lady!" + +On the other occasion he merely asked: "How am I looking? A bit +puffy about the gills? That fizz old George is so fond of is a +windy wine!" + +He had been lunching with George Forsyte at the Haversnake. + +Bosinney and Irene had arrived before them. They were standing +in one of the long French windows overlooking the river. + +Windows that summer were open all day long, and all night too, +and day and night the scents of flowers and trees came in, the +hot scent of parching grass, and the cool scent of the heavy +dews. + +To the eye of the observant Dartie his two guests did not appear +to be making much running, standing there close together, without +a word. Bosinney was a hungry-looking creature--not much go +about him + +He left them to Winifred, however, and busied himself to order +the dinner. + +A Forsyte will require good, if not delicate feeding, but a +Dartie will tax the resources of a Crown and Sceptre. Living as +he does, from hand to mouth, nothing is too good for him to eat; +and he will eat it. His drink, too, will need to be carefully +provided; there is much drink in this country 'not good enough' +for a Dartie; he will have the best. Paying for things +vicariously, there is no reason why he should stint himself. To +stint yourself is the mark of a fool, not of a Dartie. + +The best of everything! No sounder principle on which a man can +base his life, whose father-in-law has a very considerable +income, and a partiality for his grandchildren. + +With his not unable eye Dartie had spotted this weakness in James +the very first year after little Publius's arrival (an error); he +had profited by his perspicacity. Four little Darties were now a +sort of perpetual insurance. + +The feature of the feast was unquestionably the red mullet. This +delectable fish, brought from a considerable distance in a state +of almost perfect preservation, was first fried, then boned, then +served in ice, with Madeira punch in place of sauce, according to +a recipe known to a few men of the world. + +Nothing else calls for remark except the payment of the bill by +Dartie. + +He had made himself extremely agreeable throughout the meal; his +bold, admiring stare seldom abandoning Irene's face and figure. +As he was obliged to confess to himself, he got no change out of +her--she was cool enough, as cool as her shoulders looked under +their veil of creamy lace. He expected to have caught her out in +some little game with Bosinney; but not a bit of it, she kept up +her end remarkably well. As for that architect chap, he was as +glum as a bear with a sore head--Winifred could barely get a word +out of him; he ate nothing, but he certainly took his liquor, and +his face kept getting whiter, and his eyes looked queer. + +It was all very amusing. + +For Dartie himself was in capital form, and talked freely, with a +certain poignancy, being no fool. He told two or three stories +verging on the improper, a concession to the company, for his +stories were not used to verging. He proposed Irene's health in +a mock speech. Nobody drank it, and Winifred said: "Don't be +such a clown, Monty!" + +At her suggestion they went after dinner to the public terrace +overlooking the river. + +"I should like to see the common people making love," she said, +"it's such fun!" + +There were numbers of them walking in the cool, after the day's +heat, and the air was alive with the sound of voices, coarse and +loud, or soft as though murmuring secrets. + +It was not long before Winifred's better sense--she was the only +Forsyte present--secured them an empty bench. They sat down in a +row. A heavy tree spread a thick canopy above their heads, and +the haze darkened slowly over the river. + +Dartie sat at the end, next to him Irene, then Bosinney, then +Winifred. There was hardly room for four, and the man of the +world could feel Irene's arm crushed against his own; he knew +that she could not withdraw it without seeming rude, and this +amused him; he devised every now and again a movement that would +bring her closer still. He thought: 'That Buccaneer Johnny +shan't have it all to himself! It's a pretty tight fit, +certainly!' + +From far down below on the dark river came drifting the tinkle of +a mandoline, and voices singing the old round: + +'A boat, a boat, unto the ferry, +For we'll go over and be merry; +And laugh, and quaff, and drink brown sherry!' + +And suddenly the moon appeared, young and tender, floating up on +her back from behind a tree; and as though she had breathed, the +air was cooler, but down that cooler air came always the warm +odour of the limes. + +Over his cigar Dartie peered round at Bosinney, who was sitting +with his arms crossed, staring straight in front of him, and on +his face the look of a man being tortured. + +And Dartie shot a glance at the face between, so veiled by the +overhanging shadow that it was but like a darker piece of the +darkness shaped and breathed on; soft, mysterious, enticing. + +A hush had fallen on the noisy terrace, as if all the strollers +were thinking secrets too precious to be spoken. + +And Dartie thought: 'Women!' + +The glow died above the river, the singing ceased; the young moon +hid behind a tree, and all was dark. He pressed himself against +Irene. + +He was not alarmed at the shuddering that ran through the limbs +he touched, or at the troubled, scornful look of her eyes. He +felt her trying to draw herself away, and smiled. + +It must be confessed that the man of the world had drunk quite as +much as was good for him. + +With thick lips parted under his well-curled moustaches, and his +bold eyes aslant upon her, he had the malicious look of a satyr. + +Along the pathway of sky between the hedges of the tree tops the +stars clustered forth; like mortals beneath, they seemed to shift +and swarm and whisper. Then on the terrace the buzz broke out +once more, and Dartie thought: 'Ah! he's a poor, hungry-looking +devil, that Bosinney!'and again he pressed himself against Irene. + +The movement deserved a better success. She rose, and they all +followed her. + +The man of the world was more than ever determined to see what +she was made of. Along the terrace he kept close at her elbow. +He had within him much good wine. There was the long drive home, +the long drive and the warm dark and the pleasant closeness of +the hansom cab--with its insulation from the world devised by +some great and good man. That hungry architect chap might drive +with his wife--he wished him joy of her! And, conscious that his +voice was not too steady, he was careful not to speak; but a +smile had become fixed on his thick lips. + +They strolled along toward the cabs awaiting them at the farther +end. His plan had the merit of all great plans, an almost brutal +simplicity he would merely keep at her elbow till she got in, and +get in quickly after her. + +But when Irene reached the cab she did not get in; she slipped, +instead, to the horse's head. Dartie was not at the moment +sufficiently master of his legs to follow. She stood stroking +the horse's nose, and, to his annoyance, Bosinney was at her side +first. She turned and spoke to him rapidly, in a low voice; the +words 'That man' reached Dartie. He stood stubbornly by the cab +step, waiting for her to come back. He knew a trick worth two of +that! + +Here, in the lamp-light, his figure (no more than medium height), +well squared in its white evening waistcoat, his light overcoat +flung over his arm, a pink flower in his button-hole, and on his +dark face that look of confident, good-humoured insolence, he was +at his best--a thorough man of the world. + +Winifred was already in her cab. Dartie reflected that Bosinney +would have a poorish time in that cab if he didn't look sharp! +Suddenly he received a push which nearly overturned him in the +road. Bosinney's voice hissed in his ear: "I am taking Irene +back; do you understand?" He saw a face white with passion, and +eyes that glared at him like a wild cat's. + +"Eh?" he stammered. "What? Not a bit. You take my wife!" + +"Get away!" hissed Bosinney--"or I'll throw you into the road!" + +Dartie recoiled; he saw as plainly as possible that the fellow +meant it. In the space he made Irene had slipped by, her dress +brushed his legs. Bosinney stepped in after her. + +"Go on!" he heard the Buccaneer cry. The cabman flicked his +horse. It sprang forward. + +Dartie stood for a moment dumbfounded; then, dashing at the cab +where his wife sat, he scrambled in. + +"Drive on!" he shouted to the driver, "and don't you lose sight +of that fellow in front!" + +Seated by his wife's side, he burst into imprecations. Calming +himself at last with a supreme effort, he added: "A pretty mess +you've made of it, to let the Buccaneer drive home with her; why +on earth couldn't you keep hold of him? He's mad with love; any +fool can see that!" + +He drowned Winifred's rejoinder with fresh calls to the Almighty; +nor was it until they reached Barnes that he ceased a Jeremiad, +in the course of which he had abused her, her father, her +brother, Irene, Bosinney, the name of Forsyte, his own children, +and cursed the day when he had ever married. + +Winifred, a woman of strong character, let him have his say, at +the end of which he lapsed into sulky silence. His angry eyes +never deserted the back of that cab, which, like a lost chance, +haunted the darkness in front of him. + +Fortunately he could not hear Bosinney's passionate pleading-- +that pleading which the man of the world's conduct had let loose +like a flood; he could not see Irene shivering, as though some +garment had been torn from her, nor her eyes, black and mournful, +like the eyes of a beaten child. He could not hear Bosinney +entreating, entreating, always entreating; could not hear her +sudden, soft weeping, nor see that poor, hungry-looking devil, +awed and trembling, humbly touching her hand. + +In Montpellier Square their cabman, following his instructions to +the letter, faithfully drew up behind the cab in front. The +Darties saw Bosinney spring out, and Irene follow, and hasten up +the steps with bent head. She evidently had her key in her hand, +for she disappeared at once. It was impossible to tell whether +she had turned to speak to Bosinney. + +The latter came walking past their cab; both husband and wife had +an admirable view of his face in the light of a street lamp. It +was working with violent emotion. + +"Good-night, Mr. Bosinney!" called Winifred. + +Bosinney started, clawed off his hat, and hurried on. He had +obviously forgotten their existence. + +"There!" said Dartie, "did you see the beast's face? What did I +say? Fine games!" He improved the occasion. + +There had so clearly been a crisis in the cab that Winifred was +unable to defend her theory. + +She said: "I shall say nothing about it. I don't see any use in +making a fuss!" + +With that view Dartie at once concurred; looking upon James as a +private preserve, he disapproved of his being disturbed by the +troubles of others. + +"Quite right," he said; "let Soames look after himself. He's +jolly well able to!" + +Thus speaking, the Darties entered their habitat in Green Street, +the rent of which was paid by James, and sought a well-earned +rest. The hour was midnight, and no Forsytes remained abroad in +the streets to spy out Bosinney's wanderings; to see him return +and stand against the rails of the Square garden, back from the +glow of the street lamp; to see him stand there in the shadow of +trees, watching the house where in the dark was hidden she whom +he would have given the world to see for a single minute--she who +was now to him the breath of the lime-trees, the meaning of the +light and the darkness, the very beating of his own heart. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DIAGNOSIS OF A FORSYTE + + +It is in the nature of a Forsyte to be ignorant that he is a +Forsyte; but young Jolyon was well aware of being one. He had +not known it till after the decisive step which had made him an +outcast; since then the knowledge had been with him continually. +He felt it throughout his alliance, throughout all his dealings +with his second wife, who was emphatically not a Forsyte. + +He knew that if he had not possessed in great measure the eye for +what he wanted, the tenacity to hold on to it, the sense of the +folly of wasting that for which he had given so big a price--in +other words, the 'sense of property' he could never have retained +her (perhaps never would have desired to retain her) with him +through all the financial troubles, slights, and misconstructions +of those fifteen years; never have induced her to marry him on +the death of his first wife; never have lived it all through, and +come up, as it were, thin, but smiling. + +He was one of those men who, seated cross-legged like miniature +Chinese idols in the cages of their own hearts, are ever smiling +at themselves a doubting smile. Not that this smile, so intimate +and eternal, interfered with his actions, which, like his chin +and his temperament, were quite a peculiar blend of softness and +determination. + +He was conscious, too, of being a Forsyte in his work, that +painting of water-colours to which he devoted so much energy, +always with an eye on himself, as though he could not take so +unpractical a pursuit quite seriously, and always with a certain +queer uneasiness that he did not make more money at it. + +It was, then, this consciousness of what it meant to be a +Forsyte, that made him receive the following letter from old +Jolyon, with a mixture of sympathy and disgust: + + +'SHELDRAKE HOUSE, + 'BROADSTAIRS, + +'July 1. +'MY DEAR JO,' + +(The Dad's handwriting had altered very little in the thirty odd +years that he remembered it.) + +'We have been here now a fortnight, and have had good weather on +the whole. The air is bracing, but my liver is out of order, and +I shall be glad enough to get back to town. I cannot say much +for June, her health and spirits are very indifferent, and I +don't see what is to come of it. She says nothing, but it is +clear that she is harping on this engagement, which is an +engagement and no engagement, and--goodness knows what. I have +grave doubts whether she ought to be allowed to return to London +in the present state of affairs, but she is so self-willed that +she might take it into her head to come up at any moment. The +fact is someone ought to speak to Bosinney and ascertain what he +means. I'm afraid of this myself, for I should certainly rap him +over the knuckles, but I thought that you, knowing him at the +Club, might put in a word, and get to ascertain what the fellow +is about. You will of course in no way commit June. I shall be +glad to hear from you in the course of a few days whether you +have succeeded in gaining any information. The situation is very +distressing to me, I worry about it at night. + +With my love to Jolly and Holly. +'I am, + 'Your affect. father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +Young Jolyon pondered this letter so long and seriously that his +wife noticed his preoccupation, and asked him what was the +matter. He replied: "Nothing." + +It was a fixed principle with him never to allude to June. She +might take alarm, he did not know what she might think; he +hastened, therefore, to banish from his manner all traces of +absorption, but in this he was about as successful as his father +would have been, for he had inherited all old Jolyon's +transparency in matters of domestic finesse; and young Mrs. +Jolyon, busying herself over the affairs of the house, went about +with tightened lips, stealing at him unfathomable looks. + +He started for the Club in the afternoon with the letter in his +pocket, and without having made up his mind. + +To sound a man as to 'his intentions' was peculiarly unpleasant +to him; nor did his own anomalous position diminish this +unpleasantness. It was so like his family, so like all the +people they knew and mixed with, to enforce what they called +their rights over a man, to bring him up to the mark; so like +them to carry their business principles into their private +relations. + +And how that phrase in the letter--'You will, of course, in no +way commit June'--gave the whole thing away. + +Yet the letter, with the personal grievance, the concern for +June, the 'rap over the knuckles,' was all so natural. No wonder +his father wanted to know what Bosinney meant, no wonder he was +angry. + +It was difficult to refuse! But why give the thing to him to do? +That was surely quite unbecoming; but so long as a Forsyte got +what he was after, he was not too particular about the means, +provided appearances were saved. + +How should he set about it, or how refuse? Both seemed impossible. +So, young Jolyon! + +He arrived at the Club at three o'clock, and the first person he +saw was Bosinney himself, seated in a corner, staring out of the +window. + +Young Jolyon sat down not far off, and began nervously to +reconsider his position. He looked covertly at Bosinney sitting +there unconscious. He did not know him very well, and studied +him attentively for perhaps the first time; an unusual looking +man, unlike in dress, face, and manner to most of the other +members of the Club--young Jolyon himself, however different he +had become in mood and temper, had always retained the neat +reticence of Forsyte appearance. He alone among Forsytes was +ignorant of Bosinney's nickname. The man was unusual, not +eccentric, but unusual; he looked worn, too, haggard, hollow in +the cheeks beneath those broad, high cheekbones, though without +any appearance of ill-health, for he was strongly built, with +curly hair that seemed to show all the vitality of a fine +constitution. + +Something in his face and attitude touched young Jolyon. He knew +what suffering was like, and this man looked as if he were +suffering. + +He got up and touched his arm. + +Bosinney started, but exhibited no sign of embarrassment on +seeing who it was. + +Young Jolyon sat down. + +"I haven't seen you for a long time," he said. "How are you +getting on with my cousin's house?" + +"It'll be finished in about a week." + +"I congratulate you!" + +"Thanks--I don't know that it's much of a subject for +congratulation." + +"No?" queried young Jolyon; "I should have thought you'd be glad +to get a long job like that off your hands; but I suppose you +feel it much as I do when I part with a picture--a sort of +child?" + +He looked kindly at Bosinney. + +"Yes," said the latter more cordially, "it goes out from you and +there's an end of it. I didn't know you painted." + +"Only water-colours; I can't say I believe in my work." + +"Don't believe in it? There--how can you do it? Work's no use +unless you believe in it!" + +"Good," said young Jolyon; "it's exactly what I've always said. +By-the-bye, have you noticed that whenever one says 'Good,' one +always adds 'it's exactly what I've always said'! But if you ask +me how I do it, I answer, because I'm a Forsyte." + +"A Forsyte! I never thought of you as one!" + +"A Forsyte," replied young Jolyon, "is not an uncommon animal. +There are hundreds among the members of this Club. Hundreds out +there in the streets; you meet them wherever you go!" + +"And how do you tell them, may I ask?" said Bosinney. + +"By their sense of property. A Forsyte takes a practical--one +might say a commonsense--view of things, and a practical view of +things is based fundamentally on a sense of property. A Forsyte, +you will notice, never gives himself away." + +"Joking?" + +Young Jolyon's eye twinkled. + +"Not much. As a Forsyte myself, I have no business to talk. But +I'm a kind of thoroughbred mongrel; now, there's no mistaking +you: You're as different from me as I am from my Uncle James, who +is the perfect specimen of a Forsyte. His sense of property is +extreme, while you have practically none. Without me in between, +you would seem like a different species. I'm the missing link. +We are, of course, all of us the slaves of property, and I admit +that it's a question of degree, but what I call a 'Forsyte' is a +man who is decidedly more than less a slave of property. He +knows a good thing, he knows a safe thing, and his grip on +property--it doesn't matter whether it be wives, houses, money, +or reputation--is his hall-mark." + +"Ah!" murmured Bosinney. "You should patent the word." + +"I should like," said young Jolyon, "to lecture on it: + +"Properties and quality of a Forsyte: This little animal, +disturbed by the ridicule of his own sort, is unaffected in his +motions by the laughter of strange creatures (you or I). +Hereditarily disposed to myopia, he recognises only the persons +of his own species, amongst which he passes an existence of +competitive tranquillity." + +"You talk of them," said Bosinney, "as if they were half +England." + +"They are," repeated young Jolyon, "half England, and the better +half, too, the safe half, the three per cent. Half, the half +that counts. It's their wealth and security that makes +everything possible; makes your art possible, makes literature, +science, even religion, possible. Without Forsytes, who believe +in none of these things, and habitats but turn them all to use, +where should we be? My dear sir, the Forsytes are the middlemen, +the commercials, the pillars of society, the cornerstones of +convention; everything that is admirable!" + +"I don't know whether I catch your drift," said Bosinney, "but I +fancy there are plenty of Forsytes, as you call them, in my +profession." + +"Certainly," replied young Jolyon. "The great majority of +architects, painters, or writers have no principles, like any +other Forsytes. Art, literature, religion, survive by virtue of +the few cranks who really believe in such things, and the many +Forsytes who make a commercial use of them. At a low estimate, +three-fourths of our Royal Academicians are Forsytes, seven- +eighths of our novelists, a large proportion of the press. +Of science I can't speak; they are magnificently represented in +religion; in the House of Commons perhaps more numerous than +anywhere; the aristocracy speaks for itself. But I'm not +laughing. It is dangerous to go against the majority and what a +majority!" He fixed his eyes on Bosinney: "It's dangerous to let +anything carry you away--a house, a picture, a--woman!" + +They looked at each other.--And, as though he had done that which +no Forsyte did--given himself away, young Jolyon drew into his +shell. Bosinney broke the silence. + +"Why do you take your own people as the type?" said he. + +"My people," replied young Jolyon, "are not very extreme, and +they have their own private peculiarities, like every other +family, but they possess in a remarkable degree those two +qualities which are the real tests of a Forsyte--the power of +never being able to give yourself up to anything soul and body, +and the 'sense of property'." + +Bosinney smiled: "How about the big one, for instance?" + +"Do you mean Swithin?" asked young Jolyon. "Ah! in Swithin +there's something primeval still. The town and middle-class +life haven't digested him yet. All the old centuries of farmwork +and brute force have settled in him, and there they've stuck, for +all he's so distinguished." + +Bosinney seemed to ponder. "Well, you've hit your cousin Soames +off to the life," he said suddenly. "He'll never blow his brains +out." + +Young Jolyon shot at him a penetrating glance. + +"No," he said; "he won't. That's why he's to be reckoned with. +Look out for their grip! It's easy to laugh, but don't mistake +me. It doesn't do to despise a Forsyte; it doesn't do to +disregard them!" + +"Yet you've done it yourself!" + +Young Jolyon acknowledged the hit by losing his smile. + +"You forget," he said with a queer pride, "I can hold on, too-- +I'm a Forsyte myself. We're all in the path of great forces. +The man who leaves the shelter of the wall--well--you know what I +mean. I don't," he ended very low, as though uttering a threat, +"recommend every man to-go-my-way. It depends." + +The colour rushed into Bosinney's face, but soon receded, leaving +it sallow-brown as before. He gave a short laugh, that left his +lips fixed in a queer, fierce smile; his eyes mocked young +Jolyon. + +"Thanks," he said. "It's deuced kind of you. But you're not the +only chaps that can hold on." He rose. + +Young Jolyon looked after him as he walked away, and, resting his +head on his hand, sighed. + +In the drowsy, almost empty room the only sounds were the rustle +of newspapers, the scraping of matches being struck. He stayed a +long time without moving, living over again those days when he, +too, had sat long hours watching the clock, waiting for the +minutes to pass--long hours full of the torments of uncertainty, +and of a fierce, sweet aching; and the slow, delicious agony of +that season came back to him with its old poignancy. The sight +of Bosinney, with his haggard face, and his restless eyes always +wandering to the clock, had roused in him a pity, with which was +mingled strange, irresistible envy. + +He knew the signs so well. Whither was he going--to what sort of +fate? What kind of woman was it who was drawing him to her by +that magnetic force which no consideration of honour, no +principle, no interest could withstand; from which the only +escape was flight. + +Flight! But why should Bosinney fly? A man fled when he was in +danger of destroying hearth and home, when there were children, +when he felt himself trampling down ideals, breaking something. +But here, so he had heard, it was all broken to his hand. + +He himself had not fled, nor would he fly if it were all to come +over again. Yet he had gone further than Bosinney, had broken up +his own unhappy home, not someone else's: And the old saying came +back to him: 'A man's fate lies in his own heart.' + +In his own heart! The proof of the pudding was in the eating-- +Bosinney had still to eat his pudding. + +His thoughts passed to the woman, the woman whom he did not know, +but the outline of whose story he had heard. + +An unhappy marriage! No ill-treatment--only that indefinable +malaise, that terrible blight which killed all sweetness under +Heaven; and so from day to day, from night to night, from week to +week, from year to year, till death should end it + +But young Jolyon, the bitterness of whose own feelings time had +assuaged, saw Soames' side of the question too. Whence should a +man like his cousin, saturated with all the prejudices and +beliefs of his class, draw the insight or inspiration necessary +to break up this life? It was a question of imagination, of +projecting himself into the future beyond the unpleasant gossip, +sneers, and tattle that followed on such separations, beyond the +passing pangs that the lack of the sight of her would cause, +beyond the grave disapproval of the worthy. But few men, and +especially few men of Soames' class, had imagination enough for +that. A deal of mortals in this world, and not enough +imagination to go round! And sweet Heaven, what a difference +between theory and practice; many a man, perhaps even Soames, +held chivalrous views on such matters, who when the shoe pinched +found a distinguishing factor that made of himself an exception. + +Then, too, he distrusted his judgment. He had been through the +experience himself, had tasted too the dregs the bitterness of an +unhappy marriage, and how could he take the wide and dispassionate +view of those who had never been within sound of the battle? +His evidence was too first-hand--like the evidence on military +matters of a soldier who has been through much active service, +against that of civilians who have not suffered the disadvantage +of seeing things too close. Most people would consider such a +marriage as that of Soames and Irene quite fairly successful; +he had money, she had beauty; it was a case for compromise. +There was no reason why they should not jog along, even if they +hated each other. It would not matter if they went their own +ways a little so long as the decencies were observed--the +sanctity of the marriage tie, of the common home, respected. +Half the marriages of the upper classes were conducted on these +lines: Do not offend the susceptibilities of Society; do not +offend the susceptibilities of the Church. To avoid offending +these is worth the sacrifice of any private feelings. The +advantages of the stable home are visible, tangible, so many +pieces of property; there is no risk in the statu quo. To break +up a home is at the best a dangerous experiment, and selfish into +the bargain. + +This was the case for the defence, and young Jolyon sighed. + +'The core of it all,' he thought, 'is property, but there are +many people who would not like it put that way. To them it is +"the sanctity of the marriage tie"; but the sanctity of the +marriage tie is dependent on the sanctity of the family, and the +sanctity of the family is dependent on the sanctity of property. +And yet I imagine all these people are followers of One who never +owned anything. It is curious!' + +And again young Jolyon sighed. + +'Am I going on my way home to ask any poor devils I meet to share +my dinner, which will then be too little for myself, or, at all +events, for my wife, who is necessary to my health and happiness? +It may be that after all Soames does well to exercise his rights +and support by his practice the sacred principle of property +which benefits us all, with the exception of those who suffer by +the process.' + +And so he left his chair, threaded his way through the maze of +seats, took his hat, and languidly up the hot streets crowded +with carriages, reeking with dusty odours, wended his way home. + +Before reaching Wistaria Avenue he removed old Jolyon's letter +from his pocket, and tearing it carefully into tiny pieces, +scattered them in the dust of the road. + +He let himself in with his key, and called his wife's name. But +she had gone out, taking Jolly and Holly, and the house was +empty; alone in the garden the dog Balthasar lay in the shade +snapping at flies. + +Young Jolyon took his seat there, too, under the pear-tree that +bore no fruit. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BOSINNEY ON PAROLE + + +The day after the evening at Richmond Soames returned from Henley +by a morning train. Not constitutionally interested in +amphibious sports, his visit had been one of business rather than +pleasure, a client of some importance having asked him down. + +He went straight to the City, but finding things slack, he left +at three o'clock, glad of this chance to get home quietly. Irene +did not expect him. Not that he had any desire to spy on her +actions, but there was no harm in thus unexpectedly surveying the +scene. + +After changing to Park clothes he went into the drawing-room. +She was sitting idly in the corner of the sofa, her favourite +seat; and there were circles under her eyes, as though she had +not slept. + +He asked: "How is it you're in? Are you expecting somebody?" + +"Yes that is, not particularly." + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Bosinney said he might come." + +"Bosinney. He ought to be at work." + +To this she made no answer. + +"Well," said Soames, "I want you to come out to the Stores with +me, and after that we'll go to the Park." + +"I don't want to go out; I have a headache." + +Soames replied: "If ever I want you to do anything, you've always +got a headache. It'll do you good to come and sit under the +trees." + +She did not answer. + +Soames was silent for some minutes; at last he said: "I don't +know what your idea of a wife's duty is. I never have known!" + +He had not expected her to reply, but she did. + +"I have tried to do what you want; it's not my fault that I +haven't been able to put my heart into it." + +"Whose fault is it, then?" He watched her askance. + +"Before we were married you promised to let me go if our marriage +was not a success. Is it a success?" + +Soames frowned. + +"Success," he stammered--"it would be a success if you behaved +yourself properly!" + +"I have tried," said Irene. "Will you let me go?" + +Soames turned away. Secretly alarmed, he took refuge in bluster. + +"Let you go? You don't know what you're talking about. Let you +go? How can I let you go? We're married, aren't we? Then, what +are you talking about? For God's sake, don't let's have any of +this sort of nonsense! Get your hat on, and come and sit in the +Park." + +"Then, you won't let me go?" + +He felt her eyes resting on him with a strange, touching look. + +"Let you go!" he said; "and what on earth would you do with +yourself if I did? You've got no money!" + +"I could manage somehow." + +He took a swift turn up and down the room; then came and stood +before her. + +"Understand," he said, "once and for all, I won't have you say +this sort of thing. Go and get your hat on!" + +She did not move. + +"I suppose," said Soames, "you don't want to miss Bosinney if he +comes!" + +Irene got up slowly and left the room. She came down with her +hat on. + +They went out. + +In the Park, the motley hour of mid-afternoon, when foreigners +and other pathetic folk drive, thinking themselves to be in +fashion, had passed; the right, the proper, hour had come, was +nearly gone, before Soames and Irene seated themselves under the +Achilles statue. + +It was some time since he had enjoyed her company in the Park. +That was one of the past delights of the first two seasons of his +married life, when to feel himself the possessor of this gracious +creature before all London had been his greatest, though secret, +pride. How many afternoons had he not sat beside her, extremely +neat, with light grey gloves and faint, supercilious smile, +nodding to acquaintances, and now and again removing his hat. + +His light grey gloves were still on his hands, and on his lips +his smile sardonic, but where the feeling in his heart? + +The seats were emptying fast, but still he kept her there, silent +and pale, as though to work out a secret punishment. Once or +twice he made some comment, and she bent her head, or answered +"Yes" with a tired smile. + +Along the rails a man was walking so fast that people stared +after him when he passed. + +"Look at that ass!" said Soames; "he must be mad to walk like +that in this heat!" + +He turned; Irene had made a rapid movement. + +"Hallo!" he said: "it's our friend the Buccaneer!" + +And he sat still, with his sneering smile, conscious that Irene +was sitting still, and smiling too. + +"Will she bow to him?" he thought. + +But she made no sign. + +Bosinney reached the end of the rails, and came walking back +amongst the chairs, quartering his ground like a pointer. When +he saw them he stopped dead, and raised his hat. + +The smile never left Soames' face; he also took off his hat. + +Bosinney came up, looking exhausted, like a man after hard +physical exercise; the sweat stood in drops on his brow, and +Soames' smile seemed to say: "You've had a trying time, my friend +......What are you doing in the Park?" he asked. "We thought +you despised such frivolity!" + +Bosinney did not seem to hear; he made his answer to Irene: "I've +been round to your place; I hoped I should find you in." + +Somebody tapped Soames on the back, and spoke to him; and in the +exchange of those platitudes over his shoulder, he missed her +answer, and took a resolution. + +"We're just going in," he said to Bosinney; "you'd better come +back to dinner with us." Into that invitation he put a strange +bravado, a stranger pathos: "You, can't deceive me," his look and +voice seemed saying, "but see--I trust you--I'm not afraid of +you!" + +They started back to Montpellier Square together, Irene between +them. In the crowded streets Soames went on in front. He did +not listen to their conversation; the strange resolution of +trustfulness he had taken seemed to animate even his secret +conduct. Like a gambler, he said to himself: 'It's a card I dare +not throw away--I must play it for what it's worth. I have not +too many chances.' + +He dressed slowly, heard her leave her room and go downstairs, +and, for full five minutes after, dawdled about in his dressing- +room. Then he went down, purposely shutting the door loudly to +show that he was coming. He found them standing by the hearth, +perhaps talking, perhaps not; he could not say. + +He played his part out in the farce, the long evening through-- +his manner to his guest more friendly than it had ever been +before; and when at last Bosinney went, he said: "You must come +again soon; Irene likes to have you to talk about the house!" +Again his voice had the strange bravado and the stranger pathos; +but his hand was cold as ice. + +Loyal to his resolution, he turned away from their parting, +turned away from his wife as she stood under the hanging lamp to +say good-night--away from the sight of her golden head shining so +under the light, of her smiling mournful lips; away from the +sight of Bosinney's eyes looking at her, so like a dog's looking +at its master. + +And he went to bed with the certainty that Bosinney was in love +with his wife. + +The summer night was hot, so hot and still that through every +opened window came in but hotter air. For long hours he lay +listening to her breathing. + +She could sleep, but he must lie awake. And, lying awake, he +hardened himself to play the part of the serene and trusting +husband. + +In the small hours he slipped out of bed, and passing into his +dressing-room, leaned by the open window. + +He could hardly breathe. + +A night four years ago came back to him--the night but one before +his marriage; as hot and stifling as this. + +He remembered how he had lain in a long cane chair in the window +of his sitting-room off Victoria Street. Down below in a side +street a man had banged at a door, a woman had cried out; he +remembered, as though it were now, the sound of the scuffle, the +slam of the door, the dead silence that followed. And then the +early water-cart, cleansing the reek of the streets, had +approached through the strange-seeming, useless lamp-light; he +seemed to hear again its rumble, nearer and nearer, till it +passed and slowly died away. + +He leaned far out of the dressing-room window over the little +court below, and saw the first light spread. The outlines of +dark walls and roofs were blurred for a moment, then came out +sharper than before. + +He remembered how that other night he had watched the lamps +paling all the length of Victoria Street; how he had hurried on +his clothes and gone down into the street, down past houses and +squares, to the street where she was staying, and there had stood +and looked at the front of the little house, as still and grey as +the face of a dead man. + +And suddenly it shot through his mind; like a sick man's fancy: +What's he doing?--that fellow who haunts me, who was here this +evening, who's in love with my wife--prowling out there, perhaps, +looking for her as I know he was looking for her this afternoon; +watching my house now, for all I can tell! + +He stole across the landing to the front of the house, stealthily +drew aside a blind, and raised a window. + +The grey light clung about the trees of the square, as though +Night, like a great downy moth, had brushed them with her wings. +The lamps were still alight, all pale, but not a soul stirred--no +living thing in sight + +Yet suddenly, very faint, far off in the deathly stillness, he +heard a cry writhing, like the voice of some wandering soul +barred out of heaven, and crying for its happiness. There it was +again--again! Soames shut the window, shuddering. + +Then he thought: 'Ah! it's only the peacocks, across the water.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JUNE PAYS SOME CALLS + + + +Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that +odour of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable +seaside lodging-houses. On a chair--a shiny leather chair, +displaying its horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand +corner--stood a black despatch case. This he was filling with +papers, with the Times, and a bottle of Eau-de Cologne. He had +meetings that day of the 'Globular Gold Concessions' and the 'New +Colliery Company, Limited,' to which he was going up, for he +never missed a Board; to 'miss a Board' would be one more piece +of evidence that he was growing old, and this his jealous Forsyte +spirit could not bear. + +His eyes, as he filled that black despatch case, looked as if at +any moment they might blaze up with anger. So gleams the eye of +a schoolboy, baited by a ring of his companions; but he controls +himself, deterred by the fearful odds against him. And old +Jolyon controlled himself, keeping down, with his masterful +restraint now slowly wearing out, the irritation fostered in him +by the conditions of his life. + +He had received from his son an unpractical letter, in which by +rambling generalities the boy seemed trying to get out of +answering a plain question. 'I've seen Bosinney,' he said; 'he +is not a criminal. The more I see of people the more I am +convinced that they are never good or bad--merely comic, or +pathetic. You probably don't agree with me!' + +Old Jolyon did not; he considered it cynical to so express +oneself; he had not yet reached that point of old age when even +Forsytes, bereft of those illusions and principles which they +have cherished carefully for practical purposes but never +believed in, bereft of all corporeal enjoyment, stricken to the +very heart by having nothing left to hope for--break through the +barriers of reserve and say things they would never have believed +themselves capable of saying. + +Perhaps he did not believe in 'goodness' and 'badness' any more +than his son; but as he would have said: He didn't know--couldn't +tell; there might be something in it; and why, by an unnecessary +expression of disbelief, deprive yourself of possible advantage? + +Accustomed to spend his holidays among the mountains, though +(like a true Forsyte) he had never attempted anything too +adventurous or too foolhardy, he had been passionately fond of +them. And when the wonderful view (mentioned in Baedeker-- +'fatiguing but repaying')--was disclosed to him after the effort +of the climb, he had doubtless felt the existence of some great, +dignified principle crowning the chaotic strivings, the petty +precipices, and ironic little dark chasms of life. This was as +near to religion, perhaps, as his practical spirit had ever gone. + +But it was many years since he had been to the mountains. He had +taken June there two seasons running, after his wife died, and +had realized bitterly that his walking days were over. + +To that old mountain--given confidence in a supreme order of +things he had long been a stranger. + +He knew himself to be old, yet he felt young; and this troubled +him. It troubled and puzzled him, too, to think that he, who had +always been so careful, should be father and grandfather to such +as seemed born to disaster. He had nothing to say against Jo-- +who could say anything against the boy, an amiable chap?--but his +position was deplorable, and this business of June's nearly as +bad. It seemed like a fatality, and a fatality was one of those +things no man of his character could either understand or put up +with. + +In writing to his son he did not really hope that anything would +come of it. Since the ball at Roger's he had seen too clearly +how the land lay--he could put two and two together quicker than +most men--and, with the example of his own son before his eyes, +knew better than any Forsyte of them all that the pale flame +singes men's wings whether they will or no. + +In the days before June's engagement, when she and Mrs. Soames +were always together, he had seen enough of Irene to feel the +spell she cast over men. She was not a flirt, not even a +coquette--words dear to the heart of his generation, which loved +to define things by a good, broad, inadequate word--but she was +dangerous. He could not say why. Tell him of a quality innate +in some women--a seductive power beyond their own control! He +would but answer: 'Humbug!' She was dangerous, and there was an +end of it. He wanted to close his eyes to that affair. If it +was, it was; be did not want to hear any more about it--he only +wanted to save June's position and her peace of mind. He still +hoped she might once more become a comfort to himself. + +And so he had written. He got little enough out of the answer. +As to what young Jolyon had made of the interview, there was +practically only the queer sentence: 'I gather that he's in the +stream.' The stream! What stream? What was this new-fangled way +of talking? + +He sighed, and folded the last of the papers under the flap of +the bag; he knew well enough what was meant. + +June came out of the dining-room, and helped him on with his +summer coat. From her costume, and the expression of her little +resolute face, he saw at once what was coming. + +"I'm going with you," she said. + +"Nonsense, my dear; I go straight into the City. I can't have +you racketting about!" + +"I must see old Mrs. Smeech." + +"Oh, your precious 'lame ducks!" grumbled out old Jolyon. He +did not believe her excuse, but ceased his opposition. There was +no doing anything with that pertinacity of hers. + +At Victoria he put her into the carriage which had been ordered +for himself--a characteristic action, for he had no petty +selfishnesses. + +"Now, don't you go tiring yourself, my darling," he said, and +took a cab on into the city. + +June went first to a back-street in Paddington, where Mrs. +Smeech, her 'lame duck,' lived--an aged person, connected with +the charring interest; but after half an hour spent in hearing +her habitually lamentable recital, and dragooning her into +temporary comfort, she went on to Stanhope Gate. The great house +was closed and dark. + +She had decided to learn something at all costs. It was better +to face the worst, and have it over. And this was her plan: To +go first to Phil's aunt, Mrs. Baynes, and, failing information +there, to Irene herself. She had no clear notion of what she +would gain by these visits. + +At three o'clock she was in Lowndes Square. With a woman's +instinct when trouble is to be faced, she had put on her best +frock, and went to the battle with a glance as courageous as old +Jolyon's itself. Her tremors had passed into eagerness. + +Mrs. Baynes, Bosinney's aunt (Louisa was her name), was in her +kitchen when June was announced, organizing the cook, for she was +an excellent housewife, and, as Baynes always said, there was 'a +lot in a good dinner.' He did his best work after dinner. It was +Baynes who built that remarkably fine row of tall crimson houses +in Kensington which compete with so many others for the title of +'the ugliest in London.' + +On hearing June's name, she went hurriedly to her bedroom, and, +taking two large bracelets from a red morocco case in a locked +drawer, put them on her white wrists--for she possessed in a +remarkable degree that 'sense of property,' which, as we know, is +the touchstone of Forsyteism, and the foundation of good +morality. + +Her figure, of medium height and broad build, with a tendency to +embonpoint, was reflected by the mirror of her whitewood +wardrobe, in a gown made under her own organization, of one of +those half-tints, reminiscent of the distempered walls of +corridors in large hotels. She raised her hands to her hair, +which she wore a la Princesse de Galles, and touched it here and +there, settling it more firmly on her head, and her eyes were +full of an unconscious realism, as though she were looking in the +face one of life's sordid facts, and making the best of it. In +youth her cheeks had been of cream and roses, but they were +mottled now by middle-age, and again that hard, ugly directness +came into her eyes as she dabbed a powder-puff across her +forehead. Putting the puff down, she stood quite still before +the glass, arranging a smile over her high, important nose, her, +chin, (never large, and now growing smaller with the increase of +her neck), her thin-lipped, down-drooping mouth. Quickly, not to +lose the effect, she grasped her skirts strongly in both hands, +and went downstairs. + +She had been hoping for this visit for some time past. Whispers +had reached her that things were not all right between her nephew +and his fiancee. Neither of them had been near her for weeks. +She had asked Phil to dinner many times; his invariable answer +had been 'Too busy.' + +Her instinct was alarmed, and the instinct in such matters of +this excellent woman was keen. She ought to have been a Forsyte; +in young Jolyon's sense of the word, she certainly had that +privilege, and merits description as such. + +She had married off her three daughters in a way that people said +was beyond their deserts, for they had the professional plainness +only to be found, as a rule, among the female kind of the more +legal callings. Her name was upon the committees of numberless +charities connected with the Church-dances, theatricals, or +bazaars--and she never lent her name unless sure beforehand that +everything had been thoroughly organized. + +She believed, as she often said, in putting things on a commercial +basis; the proper function of the Church, of charity, indeed, +of everything, was to strengthen the fabric of 'Society.' +Individual action, therefore, she considered immoral. +Organization was the only thing, for by organization alone could +you feel sure that you were getting a return for your money. +Organization--and again, organization! And there is no doubt +that she was what old Jolyon called her--"a 'dab' at that"--he +went further, he called her "a humbug." + +The enterprises to which she lent her name were organized so +admirably that by the time the takings were handed over, they +were indeed skim milk divested of all cream of human kindness. +But as she often justly remarked, sentiment was to be deprecated. +She was, in fact, a little academic. + +This great and good woman, so highly thought of in ecclesiastical +circles, was one of the principal priestesses in the temple of +Forsyteism, keeping alive day and night a sacred flame to the God +of Property, whose altar is inscribed with those inspiring words: +'Nothing for nothing, and really remarkably little for sixpence.' + +When she entered a room it was felt that something substantial +had come in, which was probably the reason of her popularity as a +patroness. People liked something substantial when they had paid +money for it; and they would look at her--surrounded by her staff +in charity ballrooms, with her high nose and her broad, square +figure, attired in an uniform covered with sequins--as though she +were a general. + +The only thing against her was that she had not a double name. +She was a power in upper middle-class society, with its hundred +sets and circles, all intersecting on the common battlefield of +charity functions, and on that battlefield brushing skirts so +pleasantly with the skirts of Society with the capital 'S.' She +was a power in society with the smaller 's,' that larger, more +significant, and more powerful body, where the commercially +Christian institutions, maxims, and 'principle,' which Mrs. +Baynes embodied, were real life-blood, circulating freely, real +business currency, not merely the sterilized imitation that +flowed in the veins of smaller Society with the larger 'S.' +People who knew her felt her to be sound--a sound woman, who +never gave herself away, nor anything else, if she could possibly +help it. + +She had been on the worst sort of terms with Bosinney's father, +who had not infrequently made her the object of an unpardonable +ridicule. She alluded to him now that he was gone as her 'poor, +dear, irreverend brother.' + +She greeted June with the careful effusion of which she was a +mistress, a little afraid of her as far as a woman of her +eminence in the commercial and Christian world could be afraid-- +for so slight a girl June had a great dignity, the fearlessness +of her eyes gave her that. And Mrs. Baynes, too, shrewdly +recognized that behind the uncompromising frankness of June's +manner there was much of the Forsyte. If the girl had been +merely frank and courageous, Mrs. Baynes would have thought her +'cranky,' and despised her; if she had been merely a Forsyte, +like Francie--let us say--she would have patronized her from +sheer weight of metal; but June, small though she was--Mrs. +Baynes habitually admired quantity--gave her an uneasy feeling; +and she placed her in a chair opposite the light. + +There was another reason for her respect which Mrs. Baynes, too +good a churchwoman to be worldly, would have been the last to +admit--she often heard her husband describe old Jolyon as +extremely well off, and was biassed towards his granddaughter for +the soundest of all reasons. To-day she felt the emotion with +which we read a novel describing a hero and an inheritance, +nervously anxious lest, by some frightful lapse of the novelist, +the young man should be left without it at the end. + +Her manner was warm; she had never seen so clearly before how +distinguished and desirable a girl this was. She asked after old +Jolyon's health. A wonderful man for his age; so upright, and +young looking, and how old was he? Eighty-one! She would never +have thought it! They were at the sea! Very nice for them; she +supposed June heard from Phil every day? Her light grey eyes +became more prominent as she asked this question; but the girl +met the glance without flinching. + +"No," she said, "he never writes!" + +Mrs. Baynes's eyes dropped; they had no intention of doing so, +but they did. They recovered immediately. + +"Of course not. That's Phil all over--he was always like that!" + +"Was he?" said June. + +The brevity of the answer caused Mrs. Baynes's bright smile a +moment's hesitation; she disguised it by a quick movement, and +spreading her skirts afresh, said: "Why, my dear--he's quite the +most harum-scarum person; one never pays the slightest attention +to what he does!" + +The conviction came suddenly to June that she was wasting her +time; even were she to put a question point-blank, she would +never get anything out of this woman. + +'Do you see him?' she asked, her face crimsoning. + +The perspiration broke out on Mrs. Baynes' forehead beneath the +powder. + +"Oh, yes! I don't remember when he was here last--indeed, we +haven't seen much of him lately. He's so busy with your cousin's +house; I'm told it'll be finished directly. We must organize a +little dinner to celebrate the event; do come and stay the night +with us!" + +"Thank you," said June. Again she thought: 'I'm only wasting my +time. This woman will tell me nothing.' + +She got up to go. A change came over Mrs. Baynes. She rose too; +her lips twitched, she fidgeted her hands. Something was +evidently very wrong, and she did not dare to ask this girl, who +stood there, a slim, straight little figure, with her decided +face, her set jaw, and resentful eyes. She was not accustomed to +be afraid of asking question's--all organization was based on +the asking of questions! + +But the issue was so grave that her nerve, normally strong, was +fairly shaken; only that morning her husband had said: "Old Mr. +Forsyte must be worth well over a hundred thousand pounds!" + +And this girl stood there, holding out her hand--holding out her +hand! + +The chance might be slipping away--she couldn't tell--the chance +of keeping her in the family, and yet she dared not speak. + +Her eyes followed June to the door. + +It closed. + +Then with an exclamation Mrs. Baynes ran forward, wobbling her +bulky frame from side to side, and opened it again. + +Too late! She heard the front door click, and stood still, an +expression of real anger and mortification on her face. + +June went along the Square with her bird-like quickness. She +detested that woman now whom in happier days she had been +accustomed to think so kind. Was she always to be put off thus, +and forced to undergo this torturing suspense? + +She would go to Phil himself, and ask him what he meant. She had +the right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she +came to Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, +she ran up the stairs, her heart thumping painfully. + +At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding +on to the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above. + +With a very white face she mounted the last flight. She saw the +door, with his name on the plate. And the resolution that had +brought her so far evaporated. + +The full meaning of her conduct came to her. She felt hot all +over; the palms of her hands were moist beneath the thin silk +covering of her gloves. + +She drew back to the stairs, but did not descend. Leaning +against the rail she tried to get rid of a feeling of being +choked; and she gazed at the door with a sort of dreadful +courage. No! she refused to go down. Did it matter what people +thought of her? They would never know! No one would help her if +she did not help herself! She would go through with it. + +Forcing herself, therefore, to leave the support of the wall, she +rang the bell. The door did not open, and all her shame and fear +suddenly abandoned her; she rang again and again, as though in +spite of its emptiness she could drag some response out of that +closed room, some recompense for the shame and fear that visit +had cost her. It did not open; she left off ringing, and, +sitting down at the top of the stairs, buried her face in her +hands. + +Presently she stole down, out into the air. She felt as though +she had passed through a bad illness, and had no desire now but +to get home as quickly as she could. The people she met seemed +to know where she had been, what she had been doing; and +suddenly--over on the opposite side, going towards his rooms from +the direction of Montpellier Square--she saw Bosinney himself. + +She made a movement to cross into the traffic. Their eyes met, +and he raised his hat. An omnibus passed, obscuring her view; +then, from the edge of the pavement, through a gap in the +traffic, she saw him walking on. + +And June stood motionless, looking after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PERFECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +'One mockturtle, clear; one oxtail; two glasses of port.' + +In the upper room at French's, where a Forsyte could still get +heavy English food, James and his son were sitting down to lunch. + +Of all eating-places James liked best to come here; there was +something unpretentious, well-flavoured, and filling about it, +and though he had been to a certain extent corrupted by the +necessity for being fashionable, and the trend of habits keeping +pace with an income that would increase, he still hankered in +quiet City moments after the tasty fleshpots of his earlier days. +Here you were served by hairy English waiters in aprons; there +was sawdust on the floor, and three round gilt looking-glasses +hung just above the line of sight. They had only recently done +away with the cubicles, too, in which you could have your chop, +prime chump, with a floury-potato, without seeing your +neighbours, like a gentleman. + +He tucked the top corner of his napkin behind the third button of +his waistcoat, a practice he had been obliged to abandon years +ago in the West End. He felt that he should relish his soup--the +entire morning had been given to winding up the estate of an old +friend. + +After filling his mouth with household bread, stale, he at once +began: "How are you going down to Robin Hill? You going to take +Irene? You'd better take her. I should think there'll be a lot +that'll want seeing to." + +Without looking up, Soames answered: "She won't go." + +"Won't go? What's the meaning of that? She's going to live in +the house, isn't she?" + +Soames made no reply. + +"I don't know what's coming to women nowadays," mumbled James; "I +never used to have any trouble with them. She's had too much +liberty. She's spoiled...." + +Soames lifted his eyes: "I won't have anything said against her," +he said unexpectedly. + +The silence was only broken now by the supping of James's soup. + +The waiter brought the two glasses of port, but Soames stopped +him. + +"That's not the way to serve port," he said; "take them away, and +bring the bottle." + +Rousing himself from his reverie over the soup, James took one of +his rapid shifting surveys of surrounding facts. + +"Your mother's in bed," he said; "you can have the carriage to +take you down. I should think Irene'd like the drive. This +young Bosinney'll be there, I suppose, to show you over" + +Soames nodded. + +"I should like to go and see for myself what sort of a job he's +made finishing off," pursued James. "I'll just drive round and +pick you both up." + +"I am going down by train," replied Soames. "If you like to +drive round and see, Irene might go with you, I can't tell." + +He signed to the waiter to bring the bill, which James paid. + +They parted at St. Paul's, Soames branching off to the station, +James taking his omnibus westwards. + +He had secured the corner seat next the conductor, where his long +legs made it difficult for anyone to get in, and at all who +passed him he looked resentfully, as if they had no business to +be using up his air. + +He intended to take an opportunity this afternoon of speaking to +Irene. A word in time saved nine; and now that she was going to +live in the country there was a chance for her to turn over a new +leaf! He could see that Soames wouldn't stand very much more of +her goings on! + +It did not occur to him to define what he meant by her 'goings +on'; the expression was wide, vague, and suited to a Forsyte. +And James had more than his common share of courage after lunch. + +On reaching home, he ordered out the barouche, with special +instructions that the groom was to go too. He wished to be kind +to her, and to give her every chance. + +When the door of No.62 was opened he could distinctly hear her +singing, and said so at once, to prevent any chance of being +denied entrance. + +Yes, Mrs. Soames was in, but the maid did not know if she was +seeing people. + +James, moving with the rapidity that ever astonished the +observers of his long figure and absorbed expression, went +forthwith into the drawing-room without permitting this to be +ascertained. He found Irene seated at the piano with her hands +arrested on the keys, evidently listening to the voices in the +hall. She greeted him without smiling. + +"Your mother-in-law's in bed," he began, hoping at once to enlist +her sympathy. "I've got the carriage here. Now, be a good girl, +and put on your hat and come with me for a drive. It'll do you +good!" + +Irene looked at him as though about to refuse, but, seeming to +change her mind, went upstairs, and came down again with her hat +on. + +"Where are you going to take me?" she asked. + +"We'll just go down to Robin Hill," said James, spluttering out +his words very quick; "the horses want exercise, and I should +like to see what they've been doing down there." + +Irene hung back, but again changed her mind, and went out to the +carriage, James brooding over her closely, to make quite sure. + +It was not before he had got her more than half way that he +began: "Soames is very fond of you--he won't have anything said +against you; why don't you show him more affection?" + +Irene flushed, and said in a low voice: "I can't show what I +haven't got." + +James looked at her sharply; he felt that now he had her in his +own carriage, with his own horses and servants, he was really in +command of the situation. She could not put him off; nor would +she make a scene in public. + +"I can't think what you're about," he said. "He's a very good +husband!" + +Irene's answer was so low as to be almost inaudible among the +sounds of traffic. He caught the words: "You are not married to +him!" + +"What's that got to do with it? He's given you everything you +want. He's always ready to take you anywhere, and now he's built +you this house in the country. It's not as if you had anything +of your own." + +"No." + +Again James looked at her; he could not make out the expression +on her face. She looked almost as if she were going to cry, and +yet.... + +"I'm sure," he muttered hastily, "we've all tried to be kind to +you." + +Irene's lips quivered; to his dismay James saw a tear steal down +her cheek. He felt a choke rise in his own throat. + +"We're all fond of you," he said, "if you'd only"--he was going +to say, "behave yourself," but changed it to--"if you'd only be +more of a wife to him." + +Irene did not answer, and James, too, ceased speaking. There was +something in her silence which disconcerted him; it was not the +silence of obstinacy, rather that of acquiescence in all that he +could find to say. And yet he felt as if he had not had the last +word. He could not understand this. + +He was unable, however, to long keep silence. + +"I suppose that young Bosinney," he said, "will be getting +married to June now?" + +Irene's face changed. "I don't know," she said; "you should ask +her." + +"Does she write to you?" No. + +"How's that?" said James. "I thought you and she were such great +friends." + +Irene turned on him. "Again," she said, "you should ask her!" + +"Well," flustered James, frightened by her look, "it's very odd +that I can't get a plain answer to a plain question, but there it +is." + +He sat ruminating over his rebuff, and burst out at last: + +"Well, I've warned you. You won't look ahead. Soames he doesn't +say much, but I can see he won't stand a great deal more of this +sort of thing. You'll have nobody but yourself to blame, and, +what's more, you'll get no sympathy from anybody." + +Irene bent her head with a little smiling bow. "I am very much +obliged to you." + +James did not know what on earth to answer. + +The bright hot morning had changed slowly to a grey, oppressive +afternoon; a heavy bank of clouds, with the yellow tinge of +coming thunder, had risen in the south, and was creeping up. + +The branches of the trees dropped motionless across the road +without the smallest stir of foliage. A faint odour of glue from +the heated horses clung in the thick air; the coachman and groom, +rigid and unbending, exchanged stealthy murmurs on the box, +without ever turning their heads. + +To James' great relief they reached the house at last; the +silence and impenetrability of this woman by his side, whom he +had always thought so soft and mild, alarmed him. + +The carriage put them down at the door, and they entered. + +The hall was cool, and so still that it was like passing into a +tomb; a shudder ran down James's spine. He quickly lifted the +heavy leather curtains between the columns into the inner court. + +He could not restrain an exclamation of approval. + +The decoration was really in excellent taste. The dull ruby +tiles that extended from the foot of the walls to the verge of a +circular clump of tall iris plants, surrounding in turn a sunken +basin of white marble filled with water, were obviously of the +best quality. He admired extremely the purple leather curtains +drawn along one entire side, framing a huge white-tiled stove. +The central partitions of the skylight had been slid back, and +the warm air from outside penetrated into the very heart of the +house. + +He stood, his hands behind him, his head bent back on his high, +narrow shoulders, spying the tracery on the columns and the +pattern of the frieze which ran round the, ivory-coloured walls +under the gallery. Evidently, no pains had been spared. It was +quite the house of a gentleman. He went up to the curtains, and, +having discovered how they were worked, drew them asunder and +disclosed the picture-gallery, ending in a great window taking up +the whole end of the room. It had a black oak floor, and its +walls, again, were of ivory white. He went on throwing open +doors, and peeping in. Everything was in apple-pie order, ready +for immediate occupation. + +He turned round at last to speak to Irene, and saw her standing +over in the garden entrance, with her husband and Bosinney. + +Though not remarkable for sensibility, James felt at once that +something was wrong. He went up to them, and, vaguely alarmed, +ignorant of the nature of the trouble, made an attempt to smooth +things over. + +"How are you, Mr. Bosinney?" he said, holding out his hand. +"You've been spending money pretty freely down here, I should +say!" + +Soames turned his back, and walked away. + +James looked from Bosinney's frowning face to Irene, and, in his +agitation, spoke his thoughts aloud: "Well, I can't tell what's +the matter. Nobody tells me anything!" And, making off after his +son, he heard Bosinney's short laugh, and his "Well, thank God! +You look so...." Most unfortunately he lost the rest. + +What had happened? He glanced back. Irene was very close to the +architect, and her face not like the face he knew of her. He +hastened up to his son. + +Soames was pacing the picture-gallery. + +"What's the matter?" said James. "What's all this?" + +Soames looked at him with his supercilious calm unbroken, but +James knew well enough that he was violently angry. + +"Our friend," he said, "has exceeded his instructions again, +that's all. So much the worse for him this time." + +He turned round and walked back towards the door. James followed +hurriedly, edging himself in front. He saw Irene take her finger +from before her lips, heard her say something in her ordinary +voice, and began to speak before he reached them. + +"There's a storm coming on. We'd better get home. We can't take +you, I suppose, Mr. Bosinney? No, I suppose not. Then, +good-bye!" He held out his hand. Bosinney did not take it, but, +turning with a laugh, said: + +"Good-bye, Mr. Forsyte. Don't get caught in the storm!" and +walked away. + +"Well," began James, "I don't know...." + +But the 'sight of Irene's face stopped him. Taking hold of his +daughter-in-law by the elbow, he escorted her towards the +carriage. He felt certain, quite certain, they had been making +some appointment or other.... + +Nothing in this world is more sure to upset a Forsyte than the +discovery that something on which he has stipulated to spend a +certain sum has cost more. And this is reasonable, for upon the +accuracy of his estimates the whole policy of his life is +ordered. If he cannot rely on definite values of property, his +compass is amiss; he is adrift upon bitter waters without a helm. + +After writing to Bosinney in the terms that have already been +chronicled, Soames had dismissed the cost of the house from his +mind. He believed that he had made the matter of the final cost +so very plain that the possibility of its being again exceeded +had really never entered his head. On hearing from Bosinney that +his limit of twelve thousand pounds would be exceeded by some- +thing like four hundred, he had grown white with anger. His +original estimate of the cost of the house completed had been ten +thousand pounds, and he had often blamed himself severely for +allowing himself to be led into repeated excesses. Over this +last expenditure, however, Bosinney had put himself completely in +the wrong. How on earth a fellow could make such an ass of +himself Soames could not conceive; but he had done so, and all +the rancour and hidden jealousy that had been burning against him +for so long was now focussed in rage at this crowning piece of +extravagance. The attitude of the confident and friendly husband +was gone. To preserve property--his wife--he had assumed it, to +preserve property of another kind he lost it now. + +"Ah!" he had said to Bosinney when he could speak, "and I suppose +you're perfectly contented with yourself. But I may as well tell +you that you've altogether mistaken your man!" + +What he meant by those words he did not quite know at the time, +but after dinner he looked up the correspondence between himself +and Bosinney to make quite sure. There could be no two opinions +about it--the fellow had made himself liable for that extra four +hundred, or, at all events, for three hundred and fifty of it, +and he would have to make it good. + +He was looking at his wife's face when he came to this conclusion. +Seated in her usual seat on the sofa, she was altering the lace +on a collar. She had not once spoken to him all the evening. + +He went up to the mantelpiece, and contemplating his face in the +mirror said: "Your friend the Buccaneer has made a fool of +himself; he will have to pay for it!" + +She looked at him scornfully, and answered: "I don't know what +you are talking about!" + +"You soon will. A mere trifle, quite beneath your contempt--four +hundred pounds." + +"Do you mean that you are going to make him pay that towards this +hateful, house?" + +"I do." + +"And you know he's got nothing?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you are meaner than I thought you." + +Soames turned from the mirror, and unconsciously taking a china +cup from the mantelpiece, clasped his hands around it as though +praying. He saw her bosom rise and fall, her eyes darkening with +anger, and taking no notice of the taunt, he asked quietly: + +"Are you carrying on a flirtation with Bosinney?" + +"No, I am not!" + +Her eyes met his, and he looked away. He neither believed nor +disbelieved her, but he knew that he had made a mistake in +asking; he never had known, never would know, what she was +thinking. The sight of her inscrutable face, the thought of all +the hundreds of evenings he had seen her sitting there like that +soft and passive, but unreadable, unknown, enraged him beyond +measure. + +"I believe you are made of stone," he said, clenching his fingers +so hard that he broke the fragile cup. The pieces fell into the +grate. And Irene smiled. + +"You seem to forget," she said, "that cup is not!" + +Soames gripped her arm. "A good beating," he said, "is the only +thing that would bring you to your senses," but turning on his +heel, he left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOAMES SITS ON THE STAIRS + + +Soames went upstairs that night that he had gone too far. He was +prepared to offer excuses for his words. + +He turned out the gas still burning in the passage outside their +room. Pausing, with his hand on the knob of the door, he tried +to shape his apology, for he had no intention of letting her see +that he was nervous. + +But the door did not open, nor when he pulled it and turned the +handle firmly. She must have locked it for some reason, and +forgotten. + +Entering his dressing-room, where the gas was also light and +burning low, he went quickly to the other door. That too was +locked. Then he noticed that the camp bed which he occasionally +used was prepared, and his sleeping-suit laid out upon it. He +put his hand up to his forehead, and brought it away wet. It +dawned on him that he was barred out. + +He went back to the door, and rattling the handle stealthily, +called: "Unlock the door, do you hear? Unlock the door!" + +There was a faint rustling, but no answer. + +"Do you hear? Let me in at once--I insist on being let in!" + +He could catch the sound of her breathing close to the door, like +the breathing of a creature threatened by danger. + +There was something terrifying in this inexorable silence, in the +impossibility of getting at her. He went back to the other door, +and putting his whole weight against it, tried to burst it open. +The door was a new one--he had had them renewed himself, in +readiness for their coming in after the honeymoon. In a rage he +lifted his foot to kick in the panel; the thought of the servants +restrained him, and he felt suddenly that he was beaten. + +Flinging himself down in the dressing-room, he took up a book. + +But instead of the print he seemed to see his wife--with her +yellow hair flowing over her bare shoulders, and her great dark +eyes--standing like an animal at bay. And the whole meaning of +her act of revolt came to him. She meant it to be for good. + +He could not sit still, and went to the door again. He could +still hear her, and he called: "Irene! Irene!" + +He did not mean to make his voice pathetic. + +In ominous answer, the faint sounds ceased. He stood with +clenched hands, thinking. + +Presently he stole round on tiptoe, and running suddenly at the +other door, made a supreme effort to break it open. It creaked, +but did not yield. He sat down on the stairs and buried his face +in his hands. + +For a long time he sat there in the dark, the moon through the +skylight above laying a pale smear which lengthened slowly +towards him down the stairway. He tried to be philosophical. + +Since she had locked her doors she had no further claim as a +wife, and he would console himself with other women. + +It was but a spectral journey he made among such delights--he had +no appetite for these exploits. He had never had much, and he +had lost the habit. He felt that he could never recover it. His +hunger could only be appeased by his wife, inexorable and +frightened, behind these shut doors. No other woman could help +him. + +This conviction came to him with terrible force out there in the +dark. + +His philosophy left him; and surly anger took its place. Her +conduct was immoral, inexcusable, worthy of any punishment within +his power. He desired no one but her, and she refused him! + +She must really hate him, then! He had never believed it yet. +He did not believe it now. It seemed to him incredible. He felt +as though he had lost for ever his power of judgment. If she, so +soft and yielding as he had always judged her, could take this +decided step--what could not happen? + +Then he asked himself again if she were carrying on an intrigue +with Bosinney. He did not believe that she was; he could not +afford to believe such a reason for her conduct--the thought was +not to be faced. + +It would be unbearable to contemplate the necessity of making his +marital relations public property. Short of the most convincing +proofs he must still refuse to believe, for he did not wish to +punish himself. And all the time at heart--he did believe. + +The moonlight cast a greyish tinge over his figure, hunched +against the staircase wall. + +Bosinney was in love with her! He hated the fellow, and would +not spare him now. He could and would refuse to pay a penny +piece over twelve thousand and fifty pounds--the extreme limit +fixed in the correspondence; or rather he would pay, he would pay +and sue him for damages. He would go to Jobling and Boulter and +put the matter in their hands. He would ruin the impecunious +beggar! And suddenly--though what connection between the +thoughts?--he reflected that Irene had no money either. They +were both beggars. This gave him a strange satisfaction. + +The silence was broken by a faint creaking through the wall. She +was going to bed at last. Ah! Joy and pleasant dreams! If she +threw the door open wide he would not go in now! + +But his lips, that were twisted in a bitter smile, twitched; he +covered his eyes with his hands.... + +It was late the following afternoon when Soames stood in the +dining-room window gazing gloomily into the Square. + +The sunlight still showered on the plane-trees, and in the breeze +their gay broad leaves shone and swung in rhyme to a barrel organ +at the corner. It was playing a waltz, an old waltz that was out +of fashion, with a fateful rhythm in the notes; and it went on +and on, though nothing indeed but leaves danced to the tune. + +The woman did not look too gay, for she was tired; and from the +tall houses no one threw her down coppers. She moved the organ +on, and three doors off began again. + +It was the waltz they had played at Roger's when Irene had danced +with Bosinney; and the perfume of the gardenias she had worn came +back to Soames, drifted by the malicious music, as it had been +drifted to him then, when she passed, her hair glistening, her +eyes so soft, drawing Bosinney on and on down an endless +ballroom. + +The organ woman plied her handle slowly; she had been grinding +her tune all day-grinding it in Sloane Street hard by, grinding +it perhaps to Bosinney himself. + +Soames turned, took a cigarette from the carven box, and walked +back to the window. The tune had mesmerized him, and there came +into his view Irene, her sunshade furled, hastening homewards +down the Square, in a soft, rose-coloured blouse with drooping +sleeves, that he did not know. She stopped before the organ, +took out her purse, and gave the woman money. + +Soames shrank back and stood where he could see into the hall. + +She came in with her latch-key, put down her sunshade, and stood +looking at herself in the glass. Her cheeks were flushed as if +the sun had burned them; her lips were parted in a smile. She +stretched her arms out as though to embrace herself, with a laugh +that for all the world was like a sob. + +Soames stepped forward. + +"Very-pretty!" he said. + +But as though shot she spun round, and would have passed him up +the stairs. He barred the way. + +"Why such a hurry?" he said, and his eyes fastened on a curl of +hair fallen loose across her ear.... + +He hardly recognised her. She seemed on fire, so deep and rich +the colour of her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, and of the unusual +blouse she wore. + +She put up her hand and smoothed back the curl. She was +breathing fast and deep, as though she had been running, and with +every breath perfume seemed to come from her hair, and from her +body, like perfume from an opening flower. + +"I don't like that blouse," he said slowly, "it's a soft, +shapeless thing!" + +He lifted his finger towards her breast, but she dashed his hand +aside. + +"Don't touch me!" she cried. + +He caught her wrist; she wrenched it away. + +"And where may you have been?" he asked. + +"In heaven--out of this house!" With those words she fled +upstairs. + +Outside--in thanksgiving--at the very door, the organ-grinder was +playing the waltz. + +And Soames stood motionless. What prevented him from following +her? + +Was it that, with the eyes of faith, he saw Bosinney looking down +from that high window in Sloane Street, straining his eyes for +yet another glimpse of Irene's vanished figure, cooling his +flushed face, dreaming of the moment when she flung herself on +his breast--the scent of her still in the air around, and the +sound of her laugh that was like a sob? + + + + + +PART III + + +CHAPTER I + +Mrs. MAcANDER'S EVIDENCE + + +Many people, no doubt, including the editor of the 'Ultra +Vivisectionist,' then in the bloom of its first youth, would say +that Soames was less than a man not to have removed the locks +from his wife's doors, and, after beating her soundly, resumed +wedded happiness. + +Brutality is not so deplorably diluted by humaneness as it used +to be, yet a sentimental segment of the population may still be +relieved to learn that he did none of these things. For active +brutality, is not popular with Forsytes; they are too +circumspect, and, on the whole, too softhearted. And in Soames +there was some common pride, not sufficient to make him do a +really generous action, but enough to prevent his indulging in an +extremely mean one, except, perhaps, in very hot blood. Above +all this true Forsyte refused to feel himself ridiculous. Short +of actually beating his wife, he perceived nothing to be done; he +therefore accepted the situation without another word. + +Throughout the summer and autumn he continued to go to the +office, to sort his pictures, and ask his friends to dinner. + +He did not leave town; Irene refused to go away. The house at +Robin Hill, finished though it was, remained empty and ownerless. +Soames had brought a suit against the Buccaneer, in which he +claimed from him the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds. + +A firm of solicitors, Messrs. Freak and Able, had put in a +defence on Bosinney's behalf. Admitting the facts, they raised a +point on the correspondence which, divested of legal phraseology, +amounted to this: To speak of 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence' is an Irish bull. + +By a chance, fortuitous but not improbable in the close borough +of legal circles, a good deal of information came to Soames' ear +anent this line of policy, the working partner in his firm, +Bustard, happening to sit next at dinner at Walmisley's, the +Taxing Master, to young Chankery, of the Common Law Bar. + +The necessity for talking what is known as 'shop,' which comes on +all lawyers with the removal of the ladies, caused Chankery, a +young and promising advocate, to propound an impersonal conundrum +to his neighbour, whose name he did not know, for, seated as he +permanently was in the background, Bustard had practically no +name. + +He had, said Chankery, a case coming on with a 'very nice point.' +He then explained, preserving every professional discretion, the +riddle in Soames' case. Everyone, he said, to whom he had +spoken, thought it a nice point. The issue was small +unfortunately, 'though d----d serious for his client he +believed'--Walmisley's champagne was bad but plentiful. A Judge +would make short work of it, he was afraid. He intended to make +a big effort--the point was a nice one. What did his neighbour +say? + +Bustard, a model of secrecy, said nothing. He related the +incident to Soames however with some malice, for this quiet man +was capable of human feeling, ending with his own opinion that +the point was 'a very nice one.' + +In accordance with his resolve, our Forsyte had put his interests +into the hands of Jobling and Boulter. From the moment of doing +so he regretted that he had not acted for himself. On receiving +a copy of Bosinney's defence he went over to their offices. + +Boulter, who had the matter in hand, Jobling having died some +years before, told him that in his opinion it was rather a nice +point; he would like counsel's opinion on it. + +Soames told him to go to a good man, and they went to Waterbuck, +Q.C., marking him ten and one, who kept the papers six weeks and +then wrote as follows + +'In my opinion the true interpretation of this correspondence +depends very much on the intention of the parties, and will turn +upon the evidence given at the trial. I am of opinion that an +attempt should be made to secure from the architect an admission +that he understood he was not to spend at the outside more than +twelve thousand and fifty pounds. With regard to the expression, +"a free hand in the terms of this correspondence," to which my +attention is directed, the point is a nice one; but I am of +opinion that upon the whole the ruling in "Boileau v. The +Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.," will apply.' + +Upon this opinion they acted, administering interrogatories, but +to their annoyance Messrs. Freak and Able answered these in so +masterly a fashion that nothing whatever was admitted and that +without prejudice. + +It was on October 1 that Soames read Waterbuck's opinion, in the +dining-room before dinner. + +It made him nervous; not so much because of the case of 'Boileau +v. The Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.,' as that the point had lately +begun to seem to him, too, a nice one; there was about it just +that pleasant flavour of subtlety so attractive to the best legal +appetites. To have his own impression confirmed by Waterbuck, +Q.C., would have disturbed any man. + +He sat thinking it over, and staring at the empty grate, for +though autumn had come, the weather kept as gloriously fine that +jubilee year as if it were still high August. It was not +pleasant to be disturbed; he desired too passionately to set his +foot on Bosinney's neck. + +Though he had not seen the architect since the last afternoon at +Robin Hill, he was never free from the sense of his presence-- +never free from the memory of his worn face with its high cheek +bones and enthusiastic eyes. It would riot be too much to say +that he had never got rid of the feeling of that night when he +heard the peacock's cry at dawn--the feeling that Bosinney +haunted the house. And every man's shape that he saw in the dark +evenings walking past, seemed that of him whom George had so +appropriately named the Buccaneer. + +Irene still met him, he was certain; where, or how, he neither +knew, nor asked; deterred by a vague and secret dread of too much +knowledge. It all seemed subterranean nowadays. + +Sometimes when he questioned his wife as to where she had been, +which he still made a point of doing, as every Forsyte should, +she looked very strange. Her self-possession was wonderful, but +there were moments when, behind the mask of her face, inscrutable +as it had always been to him, lurked an expression he had never +been used to see there. + +She had taken to lunching out too; when he asked Bilson if her +mistress had been in to lunch, as often as not she would answer: +"No, sir." + +He strongly disapproved of her gadding about by herself, and told +her so. But she took no notice. There was something that +angered, amazed, yet almost amused, him about the calm way in +which she disregarded his wishes. It was really as if she were +hugging to herself the thought of a triumph over him. + +He rose from the perusal of Waterbuck, Q.C.'s opinion, and, going +upstairs, entered her room, for she did not lock her doors till +bed-time--she had the decency, he found, to save the feelings of +the servants. She was brushing her hair, and turned to him with +strange fierceness. + +"What do you want?" she said. "Please leave my room!" + +He answered: "I want to know how long this state of things +between us is to last? I have put up with it long enough." + +"Will you please leave my room?" + +"Will you treat me as your husband?" + +"No." + +"Then, I shall take steps to make you." + +"Do!" + +He stared, amazed at the calmness of her answer. Her lips were +compressed in a thin line; her hair lay in fluffy masses on her +bare shoulders, in all its strange golden contrast to her dark +eyes--those eyes alive with the emotions of fear, hate, contempt, +and odd, haunting triumph. + +"Now, please, will you leave my room?" He turned round, and went +sulkily out. + +He knew very well that he had no intention of taking steps, and +he saw that she knew too--knew that he was afraid to. + +It was a habit with him to tell her the doings of his day: how +such and such clients had called; how he had arranged a mortgage +for Parkes; how that long-standing suit of Fryer v. Forsyte was +getting on, which, arising in the preternaturally careful +disposition of his property by his great uncle Nicholas, who had +tied it up so that no one could get at it at all, seemed likely +to remain a source of income for several solicitors till the Day +of Judgment. + +And how he had called in at Jobson's, and seen a Boucher sold, +which he had just missed buying of Talleyrand and Sons in Pall +Mall. + +He had an admiration for Boucher, Watteau, and all that school. +It was a habit with him to tell her all these matters, and he +continued to do it even now, talking for long spells at dinner, +as though by the volubility of words he could conceal from +himself the ache in his heart. + +Often, if they were alone, he made an attempt to kiss her when +she said good-night. He may have had some vague notion that some +night she would let him; or perhaps only the feeling that a +husband ought to kiss his wife. Even if she hated him, he at all +events ought not to put himself in the wrong by neglecting this +ancient rite. + +And why did she hate him? Even now he could not altogether +believe it. It was strange to be hated!--the emotion was too +extreme; yet he hated Bosinney, that Buccaneer, that prowling +vagabond, that night-wanderer. For in his thoughts Soames always +saw him lying in wait--wandering. Ah, but he must be in very low +water! Young Burkitt, the architect, had seen him coming out of +a third-rate restaurant, looking terribly down in the mouth! + +During all the hours he lay awake, thinking over the situation, +which seemed to have no end--unless she should suddenly come to +her senses--never once did the thought of separating from his +wife seriously enter his head.... + +And the Forsytes! What part did they play in this stage of +Soames' subterranean tragedy? + +Truth to say, little or none, for they were at the sea. + +From hotels, hydropathics, or lodging-houses, they were bathing +daily; laying in a stock of ozone to last them through the +winter. + +Each section, in the vineyard of its own choosing, grew and +culled and pressed and bottled the grapes of a pet sea-air. + +The end of September began to witness their several returns. + +In rude health and small omnibuses, with considerable colour in +their cheeks, they arrived daily from the various termini. The +following morning saw them back at their vocations. + +On the next Sunday Timothy's was thronged from lunch till dinner. + +Amongst other gossip, too numerous and interesting to relate, +Mrs. Septimus Small mentioned that Soames and Irene had not been +away. + +It remained for a comparative outsider to supply the next +evidence of interest. + +It chanced that one afternoon late in September, Mrs. MacAnder, +Winifred Dartie's greatest friend, taking a constitutional, with +young Augustus Flippard, on her bicycle in Richmond Park, passed +Irene and Bosinney walking from the bracken towards the Sheen +Gate. + +Perhaps the poor little woman was thirsty, for she had ridden +long on a hard, dry road, and, as all London knows, to ride a +bicycle and talk to young Flippard will try the toughest +constitution; or perhaps the sight of the cool bracken grove, +whence 'those two' were coming down, excited her envy. The cool +bracken grove on the top of the hill, with the oak boughs for +roof, where the pigeons were raising an endless wedding hymn, and +the autumn, humming, whispered to the ears of lovers in the fern, +while the deer stole by. The bracken grove of irretrievable +delights, of golden minutes in the long marriage of heaven and +earth! The bracken grove, sacred to stags, to strange tree-stump +fauns leaping around the silver whiteness of a birch-tree nymph +at summer dusk + +This lady knew all the Forsytes, and having been at June's 'at +home,' was not at a loss to see with whom she had to deal. Her +own marriage, poor thing, had not been successful, but having +had the good sense and ability to force her husband into +pronounced error, she herself had passed through the necessary +divorce proceedings without incurring censure. + +She was therefore a judge of all that sort of thing, and lived in +one of those large buildings, where in small sets of apartments, +are gathered incredible quantities of Forsytes, whose chief +recreation out of business hours is the discussion of each +other's affairs. + +Poor little woman, perhaps she was thirsty, certainly she was +bored, for Flippard was a wit. To see 'those two' in so unlikely +a spot was quite a merciful 'pick-me-up.' + +At the MacAnder, like all London, Time pauses. + +This small but remarkable woman merits attention; her all-seeing +eye and shrewd tongue were inscrutably the means of furthering +the ends of Providence. + +With an air of being in at the death, she had an almost +distressing power of taking care of herself. She had done more, +perhaps, in her way than any woman about town to destroy the +sense of chivalry which still clogs the wheel of civilization. +So smart she was, and spoken of endearingly as 'the little +MacAnder!' + +Dressing tightly and well, she belonged to a Woman's Club, but +was by no means the neurotic and dismal type of member who was +always thinking of her rights. She took her rights unconsciously, +they came natural to her, and she knew exactly how to make the +most of them without exciting anything but admiration amongst +that great class to whom she was affiliated, not precisely +perhaps by manner, but by birth, breeding, and the true, the +secret gauge, a sense of property. + +The daughter of a Bedfordshire solicitor, by the daughter of a +clergyman, she had never, through all the painful experience of +being married to a very mild painter with a cranky love of +Nature, who had deserted her for an actress, lost touch with the +requirements, beliefs, and inner feeling of Society; and, on +attaining her liberty, she placed herself without effort in the +very van of Forsyteism. + +Always in good spirits, and 'full of information,' she was +universally welcomed. She excited neither surprise nor +disapprobation when encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, +either alone, or travelling with a lady and two gentlemen; it was +felt that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; +and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that wonderful instinct, +which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving anything +away. It was generally felt that to such women as Mrs. MacAnder +should we look for the perpetuation and increase of our best type +of woman. She had never had any children. + +If there was one thing more than another that she could not stand +it was one of those soft women with what men called 'charm' about +them, and for Mrs. Soames she always had an especial dislike. + +Obscurely, no doubt, she felt that if charm were once admitted as +the criterion, smartness and capability must go to the wall; and +she hated--with a hatred the deeper that at times this so-called +charm seemed to disturb all calculations--the subtle seductiveness +which she could not altogether overlook in Irene. + +She said, however, that she could see nothing in the woman--there +was no 'go' about her--she would never be able to stand up for +herself--anyone could take advantage of her, that was plain--she +could not see in fact what men found to admire! + +She was not really ill-natured, but, in maintaining her position +after the trying circumstances of her married life, she had found +it so necessary to be 'full of information,' that the idea of +holding her tongue about 'those two' in the Park never occurred +to her. + +And it so happened that she was dining that very evening at +Timothy's, where she went sometimes to 'cheer the old things up,' +as she was wont to put it. The same people were always asked to +meet her: Winifred Dartie and her husband; Francie, because she +belonged to the artistic circles, for Mrs. MacAnder was known to +contribute articles on dress to 'The Ladies Kingdom Come'; and +for her to flirt with, provided they could be obtained, two of +the Hayman boys, who, though they never said anything, were +believed to be fast and thoroughly intimate with all that was +latest in smart Society. + +At twenty-five minutes past seven she turned out the electric +light in her little hall, and wrapped in her opera cloak with the +chinchilla collar, came out into the corridor, pausing a moment +to make sure she had her latch-key. These little self-contained +flats were convenient; to be sure, she had no light and no air, +but she could shut it up whenever she liked and go away. There +was no bother with servants, and she never felt tied as she used +to when poor, dear Fred was always about, in his mooney way. She +retained no rancour against poor, dear Fred, he was such a fool; +but the thought of that actress drew from her, even now, a +little, bitter, derisive smile. + +Firmly snapping the door to, she crossed the corridor, with its +gloomy, yellow-ochre walls, and its infinite vista of brown, +numbered doors. The lift was going down; and wrapped to the ears +in the high cloak, with every one of her auburn hairs in its +place, she waited motionless for it to stop at her floor. The +iron gates clanked open; she entered. There were already three +occupants, a man in a great white waistcoat, with a large, smooth +face like a baby's, and two old ladies in black, with mittened +hands. + +Mrs. MacAnder smiled at them; she knew everybody; and all these +three, who had been admirably silent before, began to talk at +once. This was Mrs. MacAnder's successful secret. She provoked +conversation. + +Throughout a descent of five stories the conversation continued, +the lift boy standing with his back turned, his cynical face +protruding through the bars. + +At the bottom they separated, the man in the white waistcoat +sentimentally to the billiard room, the old ladies to dine and +say to each other: "A dear little woman!" "Such a rattle!" and +Mrs. MacAnder to her cab. + +When Mrs. MacAnder dined at Timothy's, the conversation (although +Timothy himself could never be induced to be present) took that +wider, man-of-the-world tone current among Forsytes at large, and +this, no doubt, was what put her at a premium there. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester found it an exhilarating change. "If +only," they said, "Timothy would meet her!" It was felt that she +would do him good. She could tell you, for instance, the latest +story of Sir Charles Fiste's son at Monte Carlo; who was the real +heroine of Tynemouth Eddy's fashionable novel that everyone was +holding up their hands over, and what they were doing in Paris +about wearing bloomers. She was so sensible, too, knowing all +about that vexed question, whether to send young Nicholas' eldest +into the navy as his mother wished, or make him an accountant as +his father thought would be safer. She strongly deprecated the +navy. If you were not exceptionally brilliant or exceptionally +well connected, they passed you over so disgracefully, and what +was it after all to look forward to, even if you became an +admiral--a pittance! An accountant had many more chances, but +let him be put with a good firm, where there was no risk at +starting! + +Sometimes she would give them a tip on the Stock Exchange; not +that Mrs. Small or Aunt Hester ever took it. They had indeed no +money to invest; but it seemed to bring them into such exciting +touch with the realities of life. It was an event. They would +ask Timothy, they said. But they never did, knowing in advance +that it would upset him. Surreptitiously, however, for weeks +after they would look in that paper, which they took with respect +on account of its really fashionable proclivities, to see whether +'Bright's Rubies' or 'The Woollen Mackintosh Company' were up or +down. Sometimes they could not find the name of the company at +all; and they would wait until James or Roger or even Swithin +came in, and ask them in voices trembling with curiosity how that +'Bolivia Lime and Speltrate was doing--they could not find it in +the paper. + +And Roger would answer: "What do you want to know for? Some +trash! You'll go burning your fingers--investing your money in +lime, and things you know nothing about! Who told you?" and +ascertaining what they had been told, he would go away, and, +making inquiries in the City, would perhaps invest some of his +own money in the concern. + +It was about the middle of dinner, just in fact as the saddle of +mutton had been brought in by Smither, that Mrs. MacAnder, +looking airily round, said: "Oh! and whom do you think I passed +to-day in Richmond Park? You'll never guess--Mrs. Soames and-- +Mr. Bosinney. They must have been down to look at the house!" + +Winifred Dartie coughed, and no one said a word. It was the +piece of evidence they had all unconsciously been waiting for. + +To do Mrs. MacAnder justice, she had been to Switzerland and the +Italian lakes with a party of three, and had not heard of Soames' +rupture with his architect. She could not tell, therefore, the +profound impression her words would make. + +Upright and a little flushed, she moved her small, shrewd eyes +from face to face, trying to gauge the effect of her words. On +either side of her a Hayman boy, his lean, taciturn, hungry face +turned towards his plate, ate his mutton steadily. + +These two, Giles and Jesse, were so alike and so inseparable that +they were known as the Dromios. They never talked, and seemed +always completely occupied in doing nothing. It was popularly +supposed that they were cramming for an important examination. +They walked without hats for long hours in the Gardens attached +to their house, books in their hands, a fox-terrier at their +heels, never saying a word, and smoking all the time. Every +morning, about fifty yards apart, they trotted down Campden Hill +on two lean hacks, with legs as long as their own, and every +morning about an hour later, still fifty yards apart, they +cantered up again. Every evening, wherever they had dined, they +might be observed about half-past ten, leaning over the +balustrade of the Alhambra promenade. + +They were never seen otherwise than together; in this way passing +their lives, apparently perfectly content. + +Inspired by some dumb stirring within them of the feelings of +gentlemen, they turned at this painful moment to Mrs. MacAnder, +and said in precisely the same voice: "Have you seen the...?" + +Such was her surprise at being thus addressed that she put down +her fork; and Smither, who was passing, promptly removed her +plate. Mrs. MacAnder, however, with presence of mind, said +instantly: "I must have a little more of that nice mutton." + +But afterwards in the drawing--room she sat down by Mrs. Small, +determined to get to the bottom of the matter. And she began: + +"What a charming woman, Mrs. Soames; such a sympathetic +temperament! Soames is a really lucky man!" + +Her anxiety for information had not made sufficient allowance for +that inner Forsyte skin which refuses to share its troubles with +outsiders. + +Mrs. Septimus Small, drawing herself up with a creak and rustle +of her whole person, said, shivering in her dignity: + +"My dear, it is a subject we do not talk about!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +NIGHT IN THE PARK + + +Although with her infallible instinct Mrs. Small had said the +very thing to make her guest 'more intriguee than ever,' it is +difficult to see how else she could truthfully have spoken. + +It was not a subject which the Forsytes could talk about even +among themselves--to use the word Soames had invented to +characterize to himself the situation, it was 'subterranean.' + +Yet, within a week of Mrs. MacAnder's encounter in Richmond Park, +to all of them--save Timothy, from whom it was carefully kept--to +James on his domestic beat from the Poultry to Park Lane, to +George the wild one, on his daily adventure from the bow window +at the Haversnake to the billiard room at the 'Red Pottle,' was +it known that 'those two' had gone to extremes. + +George (it was he who invented many of those striking expressions +still current in fashionable circles) voiced the sentiment more +accurately than any one when he said to his brother Eustace that +'the Buccaneer' was 'going it'; he expected Soames was about 'fed +up.' + +It was felt that he must be, and yet, what could be done? He +ought perhaps to take steps; but to take steps would be +deplorable. + +Without an open scandal which they could not see their way to +recommending, it was difficult to see what steps could be taken. +In this impasse, the only thing was to say nothing to Soames, and +nothing to each other; in fact, to pass it over. + +By displaying towards Irene a dignified coldness, some impression +might be made upon her; but she was seldom now to be seen, and +there seemed a slight difficulty in seeking her out on purpose to +show her coldness. Sometimes in the privacy of his bedroom James +would reveal to Emily the real suffering that his son's +misfortune caused him. + +"I can't tell," he would say; "it worries me out of my life. +There'll be a scandal, and that'll do him no good. I shan't say +anything to him. There might be nothing in it. What do you +think? She's very artistic, they tell me. What? Oh, you're a +'regular Juley! Well, I don't know; I expect the worst. This is +what comes of having no children. I knew how it would be from +the first. They never told me they didn't mean to have any +children--nobody tells me anything!" + +On his knees by the side of the bed, his eyes open and fixed with +worry, he would breathe into the counterpane. Clad in his +nightshirt, his neck poked forward, his back rounded, he +resembled some long white bird. + +"Our Father-," he repeated, turning over and over again the +thought of this possible scandal. + +Like old Jolyon, he, too, at the bottom of his heart set the +blame of the tragedy down to family interference. What business +had that lot--he began to think of the Stanhope Gate branch, +including young Jolyon and his daughter, as 'that lot'--to +introduce a person like this Bosinney into the family? (He had +heard George's soubriquet, 'The Buccaneer,' but he could make +nothing of that--the young man was an architect.) + +He began to feel that his brother Jolyon, to whom he had always +looked up and on whose opinion he had relied, was not quite what +he had expected. + +Not having his eldest brother's force of character, he was more +sad than angry. His great comfort was to go to Winifred's, and +take the little Darties in his carriage over to Kensington +Gardens, and there, by the Round Pond, he could often be seen +walking with his eyes fixed anxiously on little Publius Dartie's +sailing-boat, which he had himself freighted with a penny, as +though convinced that it would never again come to shore; while +little Publius--who, James delighted to say, was not a bit like +his father skipping along under his lee, would try to get him to +bet another that it never would, having found that it always did. +And James would make the bet; he always paid--sometimes as many +as three or four pennies in the afternoon, for the game seemed +never to pall on little Publius--and always in paying he said: +"Now, that's for your money-box. Why, you're getting quite a +rich man!" The thought of his little grandson's growing wealth +was a real pleasure to him. But little Publius knew a +sweet-shop, and a trick worth two of that. + +And they would walk home across the Park, James' figure, with +high shoulders and absorbed and worried face, exercising its +tall, lean protectorship, pathetically unregarded, over the +robust child-figures of Imogen and little Publius. + +But those Gardens and that Park were not sacred to James. +Forsytes and tramps, children and lovers, rested and wandered day +after day, night after night, seeking one and all some freedom +from labour, from the reek and turmoil of the streets. + +The leaves browned slowly, lingering with the sun and summer-like +warmth of the nights. + +On Saturday, October 5, the sky that had been blue all day +deepened after sunset to the bloom of purple grapes. There was +no moon, and a clear dark, like some velvety garment, was wrapped +around the trees, whose thinned branches, resembling plumes, +stirred not in the still, warm air. All London had poured into +the Park, draining the cup of summer to its dregs. + +Couple after couple, from every gate, they streamed along the +paths and over the burnt grass, and one after another, silently +out of the lighted spaces, stole into the shelter of the feathery +trees, where, blotted against some trunk, or under the shadow of +shrubs, they were lost to all but themselves in the heart of the +soft darkness. + +To fresh-comers along the paths, these forerunners formed but +part of that passionate dusk, whence only a strange murmur, like +the confused beating of hearts, came forth. But when that murmur +reached each couple in the lamp-light their voices wavered, and +ceased; their arms enlaced, their eyes began seeking, searching, +probing the blackness. Suddenly, as though drawn by invisible +hands, they, too, stepped over the railing, and, silent as +shadows, were gone from the light. + +The stillness, enclosed in the far, inexorable roar of the town, +was alive with the myriad passions, hopes, and loves of +multitudes of struggling human atoms; for in spite of the +disapproval of that great body of Forsytes, the Municipal +Council--to whom Love had long been considered, next to the +Sewage Question, the gravest danger to the community--a process +was going on that night in the Park, and in a hundred other +parks, without which the thousand factories, churches, shops, +taxes, and drains, of which they were custodians, were as +arteries without blood, a man without a heart. + +The instincts of self-forgetfulness, of passion, and of love, +hiding under the trees, away from the trustees of their +remorseless enemy, the 'sense of property,' were holding a +stealthy revel, and Soames, returning from Bayswater for he had +been alone to dine at Timothy's walking home along the water, +with his mind upon that coming lawsuit, had the blood driven from +his heart by a low laugh and the sound of kisses. He thought of +writing to the Times the next morning, to draw the attention of +the Editor to the condition of our parks. He did not, however, +for he had a horror of seeing his name in print. + +But starved as he was, the whispered sounds in the stillness, the +half-seen forms in the dark, acted on him like some morbid +stimulant. He left the path along the water and stole under the +trees, along the deep shadow of little plantations, where the +boughs of chestnut trees hung their great leaves low, and there +was blacker refuge, shaping his course in circles which had for +their object a stealthy inspection of chairs side by side, +against tree-trunks, of enlaced lovers, who stirred at his +approach. + +Now he stood still on the rise overlooking the Serpentine, where, +in full lamp-light, black against the silver water, sat a couple +who never moved, the woman's face buried on the man's neck--a +single form, like a carved emblem of passion, silent and +unashamed. + +And, stung by the sight, Soames hurried on deeper into the shadow +of the trees. + +In this search, who knows what he thought and what he sought? +Bread for hunger--light in darkness? Who knows what he expected +to find--impersonal knowledge of the human heart--the end of his +private subterranean tragedy--for, again, who knew, but that each +dark couple, unnamed, unnameable, might not be he and she? + +But it could not be such knowledge as this that he was seeking-- +the wife of Soames Forsyte sitting in the Park like a common +wench! Such thoughts were inconceivable; and from tree to tree, +with his noiseless step, he passed. + +Once he was sworn at; once the whisper, "If only it could always +be like this!" sent the blood flying again from his heart, and he +waited there, patient and dogged, for the two to move. But it +was only a poor thin slip of a shop-girl in her draggled blouse +who passed him, clinging to her lover's arm. + +A hundred other lovers too whispered that hope in the stillness +of the trees, a hundred other lovers clung to each other. + +But shaking himself with sudden disgust, Soames returned to the +path, and left that seeking for he knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MEETING AT THE BOTANICAL + + +Young Jolyon, whose circumstances were not those of a Forsyte, +found at times a difficulty in sparing the money needful for +those country jaunts and researches into Nature, without having +prosecuted which no watercolour artist ever puts brush to paper. + +He was frequently, in fact, obliged to take his colour-box into +the Botanical Gardens, and there, on his stool, in the shade of a +monkey-puzzler or in the lee of some India-rubber plant, he would +spend long hours sketching. + +An Art critic who had recently been looking at his work had +delivered himself as follows + +"In a way your drawings are very good; tone and colour, in some +of them certainly quite a feeling for Nature. But, you see, +they're so scattered; you'll never get the public to look at +them. Now, if you'd taken a definite subject, such as 'London by +Night,' or 'The Crystal Palace in the Spring,' and made a regular +series, the public would have known at once what they were +looking at. I can't lay too much stress upon that. All the men +who are making great names in Art, like Crum Stone or Bleeder, +are making them by avoiding the unexpected; by specializing and +putting their works all in the same pigeon-hole, so that the +public know pat once where to go. And this stands to reason, for +if a man's a collector he doesn't want people to smell at the +canvas to find out whom his pictures are by; he wants them to be +able to say at once, 'A capital Forsyte!' It is all the more +important for you to be careful to choose a subject that they can +lay hold of on the spot, since there's no very marked originality +in your style." + +Young Jolyon, standing by the little piano, where a bowl of dried +rose leaves, the only produce of the garden, was deposited on a +bit of faded damask, listened with his dim smile. + +Turning to his wife, who was looking at the speaker with an angry +expression on her thin face, he said: + +"You see, dear?" + +"I do not," she answered in her staccato voice, that still had a +little foreign accent; "your style has originality." + +The critic looked at her, smiled' deferentially, and said no +more. Like everyone else, he knew their history. + +The words bore good fruit with young Jolyon; they were contrary +to all that he believed in, to all that he theoretically held +good in his Art, but some strange, deep instinct moved him +against his will to turn them to profit. + +He discovered therefore one morning that an idea had come to him +for making a series of watercolour drawings of London. How the +idea had arisen he could not tell; and it was not till the +following year, when he had completed and sold them at a very +fair price, that in one of his impersonal moods, he found himself +able to recollect the Art critic, and to discover in his own +achievement another proof that he was a Forsyte. + +He decided to commence with the Botanical Gardens, where he had +already made so many studies, and chose the little artificial +pond, sprinkled now with an autumn shower of red and yellow +leaves, for though the gardeners longed to sweep them off, they +could not reach them with their brooms. The rest of the gardens +they swept bare enough, removing every morning Nature's rain of +leaves; piling them in heaps, whence from slow fires rose the +sweet, acrid smoke that, like the cuckoo's note for spring, the +scent of lime trees for the summer, is the true emblem of the +fall. The gardeners' tidy souls could not abide the gold and +green and russet pattern on the grass. The gravel paths must lie +unstained, ordered, methodical, without knowledge of the +realities of life, nor of that slow and beautiful decay which +flings crowns underfoot to star the earth with fallen glories, +whence, as the cycle rolls, will leap again wild spring. + +Thus each leaf that fell was marked from the moment when it +fluttered a good-bye and dropped, slow turning, from its twig. + +But on that little pond the leaves floated in peace, and praised +Heaven with their hues, the sunlight haunting over them. + +And so young Jolyon found them. + +Coming there one morning in the middle of October, he was +disconcerted to find a bench about twenty paces from his stand +occupied, for he had a proper horror of anyone seeing him at +work. + +A lady in a velvet jacket was sitting there, with her eyes fixed +on the ground. A flowering laurel, however, stood between, and, +taking shelter behind this, young Jolyon prepared his easel. + +His preparations were leisurely; he caught, as every true artist +should, at anything that might delay for a moment the effort of +his work, and he found himself looking furtively at this unknown +dame. + +Like his father before him, he had an eye for a face. This face +was charming! + +He saw a rounded chin nestling in a cream ruffle, a delicate face +with large dark eyes and soft lips. A black 'picture' hat +concealed the hair; her figure was lightly poised against the +back of the bench, her knees were crossed; the tip of a +patent-leather shoe emerged beneath her skirt. There was +something, indeed, inexpressibly dainty about the person of this +lady, but young Jolyon's attention was chiefly riveted by the +look on her face, which reminded him of his wife. It was as +though its owner had come into contact with forces too strong for +her. It troubled him, arousing vague feelings of attraction and +chivalry. Who was she? And what doing there, alone? + +Two young gentlemen of that peculiar breed, at once forward and +shy, found in the Regent's Park, came by on their way to lawn +tennis, and he noted with disapproval their furtive stares of +admiration. A loitering gardener halted to do something +unnecessary to a clump of pampas grass; he, too, wanted an excuse +for peeping. A gentleman, old, and, by his hat, a professor of +horticulture, passed three times to scrutinize her long and +stealthily, a queer expression about his lips. + +With all these men young Jolyon felt the same vague irritation. +She looked at none of them, yet was he certain that every man who +passed would look at her like that. + +Her face was not the face of a sorceress, who in every look holds +out to men the offer of pleasure; it had none of the 'devil's +beauty' so highly prized among the first Forsytes of the land; +neither was it of that type, no less adorable, associated with +the box of chocolate; it was not of the spiritually passionate, +or passionately spiritual order, peculiar to house-decoration and +modern poetry; nor did it seem to promise to the playwright +material for the production of the interesting and neurasthenic +figure, who commits suicide in the last act. + +In shape and colouring, in its soft persuasive passivity, its +sensuous purity, this woman's face reminded him of Titian's +'Heavenly Love,' a reproduction of which hung over the sideboard +in his dining-room. And her attraction seemed to be in this soft +passivity, in the feeling she gave that to pressure she must +yield. + +For what or whom was she waiting, in the silence, with the trees +dropping here and there a leaf, and the thrushes strutting close +on grass, touched with the sparkle of the autumn rime? Then her +charming face grew eager, and, glancing round, with almost a +lover's jealousy, young Jolyon saw Bosinney striding across the +grass. + +Curiously he watched the meeting, the look in their eyes, the +long clasp of their hands. They sat down close together, linked +for all their outward discretion. He heard the rapid murmur of +their talk; but what they said he could not catch. + +He had rowed in the galley himself! He knew the long hours of +waiting and the lean minutes of a half-public meeting; the +tortures of suspense that haunt the unhallowed lover. + +It required, however, but a glance at their two faces to see that +this was none of those affairs of a season that distract men and +women about town; none of those sudden appetites that wake up +ravening, and are surfeited and asleep again in six weeks. This +was the real thing! This was what had happened to himself! Out +of this anything might come! + +Bosinney was pleading, and she so quiet, so soft, yet immovable +in her passivity, sat looking over the grass. + +Was he the man to carry her off, that tender, passive being, who +would never stir a step for herself? Who had given him all +herself, and would die for him, but perhaps would never run away +with him! + +It seemed to young Jolyon that he could hear her saying: "But, +darling, it would ruin you!" For he himself had experienced to +the full the gnawing fear at the bottom of each woman's heart +that she is a drag on the man she loves. + +And he peeped at them no more; but their soft, rapid talk came to +his ears, with the stuttering song of some bird who seemed trying +to remember the notes of spring: Joy--tragedy? Which--which? + +And gradually their talk ceased; long silence followed. + +'And where does Soames come in?' young Jolyon thought. 'People +think she is concerned about the sin of deceiving her husband! +Little they know of women! She's eating, after starvation-- +taking her revenge! And Heaven help her--for he'll take his.' + +He heard the swish of silk, and, spying round the laurel, saw +them walking away, their hands stealthily joined.... + +At the end of July old Jolyon had taken his grand-daughter to the +mountains; and on that visit (the last they ever paid) June +recovered to a great extent her health and spirits. In the +hotels, filled with British Forsytes--for old Jolyon could not +bear a 'set of Germans,' as he called all foreigners--she was +looked upon with respect--the only grand-daughter of that fine- +looking, and evidently wealthy, old Mr. Forsyte. She did not mix +freely with people--to mix freely with people was not June's +habit--but she formed some friendships, and notably one in the +Rhone Valley, with a French girl who was dying of consumption. + +Determining at once that her friend should not die, she forgot, +in the institution of a campaign against Death, much of her own +trouble. + +Old Jolyon watched the new intimacy with relief and disapproval; +for this additional proof that her life was to be passed amongst +'lame ducks' worried him. Would she never make a friendship or +take an interest in something that would be of real benefit to +her? + +'Taking up with a parcel of foreigners,' he called it. He often, +however, brought home grapes or roses, and presented them to +'Mam'zelle' with an ingratiating twinkle. + +Towards the end of September, in spite of June's disapproval, +Mademoiselle Vigor breathed her last in the little hotel at St. +Luc, to which they had moved her; and June took her defeat so +deeply to heart that old Jolyon carried her away to Paris. Here, +in contemplation of the 'Venus de Milo' and the 'Madeleine,' she +shook off her depression, and when, towards the middle of +October, they returned to town, her grandfather believed that he +had effected a cure. + +No sooner, however, had they established themselves in Stanhope +Gate than he perceived to his dismay a return of her old absorbed +and brooding manner. She would sit, staring in front of her, her +chin on her hand, like a little Norse spirit, grim and intent, +while all around in the electric light, then just installed, +shone the great, drawing-room brocaded up to the frieze, full of +furniture from Baple and Pullbred's. And in the huge gilt mirror +were reflected those Dresden china groups of young men in tight +knee breeches, at the feet of full-bosomed ladies nursing on +their laps pet lambs, which old Jolyon had bought when he was a +bachelor and thought so highly of in these days of degenerate +taste. He was a man of most open mind, who, more than any +Forsyte of them all, had moved with the times, but he could never +forget that he had bought these groups at Jobson's, and given a +lot of money for them. He often said to June, with a sort of +disillusioned contempt: + +"You don't care about them! They're not the gimcrack things you +and your friends like, but they cost me seventy pounds!" He was +not a man who allowed his taste to be warped when he knew for +solid reasons that it was sound. + +One of the first things that June did on getting home was to go +round to Timothy's. She persuaded herself that it was her duty +to call there, and cheer him with an account of all her travels; +but in reality she went because she knew of no other place where, +by some random speech, or roundabout question, she could glean +news of Bosinney. + +They received her most cordially: And how was her dear grand- +father? He had not been to see them since May. Her Uncle +Timothy was very poorly, he had had a lot of trouble with the +chimney-sweep in his bedroom; the stupid man had let the soot +down the chimney! It had quite upset her uncle. + +June sat there a long time, dreading, yet passionately hoping, +that they would speak of Bosinney. + +But paralyzed by unaccountable discretion, Mrs. Septimus Small +let fall no word, neither did she question June about him. In +desperation the girl asked at last whether Soames and Irene were +in town--she had not yet been to see anyone. + +It was Aunt Hester who replied: Oh, yes, they were in town, they +had not been away at all. There was some little difficulty about +the house, she believed. June had heard, no doubt! She had +better ask her Aunt Juley! + +June turned to Mrs. Small, who sat upright in her chair, her +hands clasped, her face covered with innumerable pouts. In +answer to the girl's look she maintained a strange silence, and +when she spoke it was to ask June whether she had worn night- +socks up in those high hotels where it must be so cold of a +night. + +June answered that she had not, she hated the stuffy things; and +rose to leave. + +Mrs. Small's infallibly chosen silence was far more ominous to +her than anything that could have been said. + +Before half an hour was over she had dragged the truth from Mrs. +Baynes in Lowndes Square, that Soames was bringing an action +against Bosinney over the decoration of the house. + +Instead of disturbing her, the news had a strangely calming +effect; as though she saw in the prospect of this struggle new +hope for herself. She learnt that the case was expected to come +on in about a month, and there seemed little or no prospect of +Bosinney's success. + +"And whatever he'll do I can't think," said Mrs. Baynes; "it's +very dreadful for him, you know--he's got no money--he's very +hard up. And we can't help him, I'm sure. I'm told the +money-lenders won't lend if you have no security, and he has +none--none at all." + +Her embonpoint had increased of late; she was in the full swing +of autumn organization, her writing-table literally strewn with +the menus of charity functions. She looked meaningly at June, +with her round eyes of parrot-grey. + +The sudden flush that rose on the girl's intent young face--she +must have seen spring up before her a great hope--the sudden +sweetness of her smile, often came back to Lady Baynes in after +years (Baynes was knighted when he built that public Museum of +Art which has given so much employment to officials, and so +little pleasure to those working classes for whom it was +designed). + +The memory of that change, vivid and touching, like the breaking +open of a flower, or the first sun after long winter, the memory, +too, of all that came after, often intruded itself, unaccountably, +inopportunely on Lady Baynes, when her mind was set upon the most +important things. + +This was the very afternoon of the day that young Jolyon +witnessed the meeting in the Botanical Gardens, and on this day, +too, old Jolyon paid a visit to his solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard, +and Forsyte, in the Poultry. Soames was not in, he had gone down +to Somerset House; Bustard was buried up to the hilt in papers +and that inaccessible apartment, where he was judiciously placed, +in order that he might do as much work as possible; but James was +in the front office, biting a finger, and lugubriously turning +over the pleadings in Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +This sound lawyer had only a sort of luxurious dread of the 'nice +point,' enough to set up a pleasurable feeling of fuss; for his +good practical sense told him that if he himself were on the +Bench he would not pay much attention to it. But he was afraid +that this Bosinney would go bankrupt and Soames would have to +find the money after all, and costs into the bargain. And behind +this tangible dread there was always that intangible trouble, +lurking in the background, intricate, dim, scandalous, like a bad +dream, and of which this action was but an outward and visible +sign. + +He raised his head as old Jolyon came in, and muttered: "How are +you, Jolyon? Haven't seen you for an age. You've been to +Switzerland, they tell me. This young Bosinney, he's got himself +into a mess. I knew how it would be!" He held out the papers, +regarding his elder brother with nervous gloom. + +Old Jolyon read them in silence, and while he read them James +looked at the floor, biting his fingers the while. + +Old Jolyon pitched them down at last, and they fell with a thump +amongst a mass of affidavits in 're Buncombe, deceased,' one of +the many branches of that parent and profitable tree, 'Fryer v. +Forsyte.' + +"I don't know what Soames is about," he said, "to make a fuss +over a few hundred pounds. I thought he was a man of property." + +James'long upper lip twitched angrily; he could not bear his son +to be attacked in such a spot. + +"It's not the money "he began, but meeting his brother's glance, +direct, shrewd, judicial, he stopped. + +There was a silence. + +"I've come in for my Will," said old Jolyon at last, tugging at +his moustache. + +James' curiosity was roused at once. Perhaps nothing in this +life was more stimulating to him than a Will; it was the supreme +deal with property, the final inventory of a man's belongings, +the last word on what he was worth. He sounded the bell. + +"Bring in Mr. Jolyon's Will," he said to an anxious, dark-haired +clerk. + +"You going to make some alterations?" And through his mind there +flashed the thought: 'Now, am I worth as much as he?' + +Old Jolyon put the Will in his breast pocket, and James twisted +his long legs regretfully. + +"You've made some nice purchases lately, they tell me," he said. + +"I don't know where you get your information from," answered old +Jolyon sharply. "When's this action coming on? Next month? I +can't tell what you've got in your minds. You must manage your +own affairs; but if you take my advice, you'll settle it out of +Court. Good-bye!" With a cold handshake he was gone. + +James, his fixed grey-blue eye corkscrewing round some secret +anxious image, began again to bite his finger. + +Old Jolyon took his Will to the offices of the New Colliery +Company, and sat down in the empty Board Room to read it through. +He answered 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings so tartly when the +latter, seeing his Chairman seated there, entered with the new +Superintendent's first report, that the Secretary withdrew with +regretful dignity; and sending for the transfer clerk, blew him +up till the poor youth knew not where to look. + +It was not--by George--as he (Down-by-the-starn) would have him +know, for a whippersnapper of a young fellow like him, to come +down to that office, and think that he was God Almighty. He +(Down-by-the-starn) had been head of that office for more years +than a boy like him could count, and if he thought that when he +had finished all his work, he could sit there doing nothing, he +did not know him, Hemmings (Down-by-the-starn), and so forth. + +On the other side of the green baize door old Jolyon sat at the +long, mahogany-and-leather board table, his thick, loose-jointed, +tortoiseshell eye-glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his +gold pencil moving down the clauses of his Will. + +It was a simple affair, for there were none of those vexatious +little legacies and donations to charities, which fritter away a +man's possessions, and damage the majestic effect of that little +paragraph in the morning papers accorded to Forsytes who die with +a hundred thousand pounds. + +A simple affair. Just a bequest to his son of twenty thousand, +and 'as to the residue of my property of whatsoever kind whether +realty or personalty, or partaking of the nature of either--upon +trust to pay the proceeds rents annual produce dividends or +interest thereof and thereon to my said grand-daughter June +Forsyte or her assigns during her life to be for her sole use and +benefit and without, etc... and from and after her death or +decease upon trust to convey assign transfer or make over the +said last-mentioned lands hereditaments premises trust moneys +stocks funds investments and securities or such as shall then +stand for and represent the same unto such person or persons +whether one or more for such intents purposes and uses and +generally in such manner way and form in all respects as the said +June Forsyte notwithstanding coverture shall by her last Will and +Testament or any writing or writings in the nature of a Will +testament or testamentary disposition to be by her duly made +signed and published direct appoint or make over give and dispose +of the same And in default etc.... Provided always...' and so on, +in seven folios of brief and simple phraseology. + +The Will had been drawn by James in his palmy days. He had +foreseen almost every contingency. + +Old Jolyon sat a long time reading this Will; at last he took +half a sheet of paper from the rack, and made a prolonged pencil +note; then buttoning up the Will, he caused a cab to be called +and drove to the offices of Paramor and Herring, in Lincoln's Inn +Fields. Jack Herring was dead, but his nephew was still in the +firm, and old Jolyon was closeted with him for half an hour. + +He had kept the hansom, and on coming out, gave the driver the +address--3, Wistaria Avenue. + +He felt a strange, slow satisfaction, as though he had scored a +victory over James and the man of property. They should not poke +their noses into his affairs any more; he had just cancelled +their trusteeships of his Will; he would take the whole of his +business out of their hands, and put it into the hands of young +Herring, and he would move the business of his Companies too. If +that young Soames were such a man of property, he would never +miss a thousand a year or so; and under his great white moustache +old Jolyon grimly smiled. He felt that what he was doing was in +the nature of retributive justice, richly deserved. + +Slowly, surely, with the secret inner process that works the +destruction of an old tree, the poison of the wounds to his +happiness, his will, his pride, had corroded the comely edifice +of his philosophy. Life had worn him down on one side, till, +like that family of which he was the head, he had lost balance. + +To him, borne northwards towards his son's house, the thought of +the new disposition of property, which he had just set in motion, +appeared vaguely in the light of a stroke of punishment, levelled +at that family and that Society, of which James and his son +seemed to him the representatives. He had made a restitution to +young Jolyon, and restitution to young Jolyon satisfied his +secret craving for revenge-revenge against Time, sorrow, and +interference, against all that incalculable sum of disapproval +that had been bestowed by the world for fifteen years on his only +son. It presented itself as the one possible way of asserting +once more the domination of his will; of forcing James, and +Soames, and the family, and all those hidden masses of Forsytes-- +a great stream rolling against the single dam of his obstinacy-- +to recognise once and for all that be would be master. It was +sweet to think that at last he was going to make the boy a richer +man by far than that son of James, that 'man of property.' And it +was sweet to give to Jo, for he loved his son. + +Neither young Jolyon nor his wife were in (young Jolyon indeed +was not back from the Botanical), but the little maid told him +that she expected the master at any moment: + +"He's always at 'ome to tea, sir, to play with the children." + +Old Jolyon said he would wait; and sat down patiently enough in +the faded, shabby drawing room, where, now that the summer +chintzes were removed, the old chairs and sofas revealed all +their threadbare deficiencies. He longed to send for the +children; to have them there beside him, their supple bodies +against his knees; to hear Jolly's: "Hallo, Gran!" and see his +rush; and feel Holly's soft little hand stealing up against his +cheek. But he would not. There was solemnity in what he had +come to do, and until it was over he would not play. He amused +himself by thinking how with two strokes of his pen he was going +to restore the look of caste so conspicuously absent from +everything in that little house; how he could fill these rooms, +or others in some larger mansion, with triumphs of art from Baple +and Pullbred's; how he could send little Jolly to Harrow and +Oxford (he no longer had faith in Eton and Cambridge, for his son +had been there); how he could procure little Holly the best +musical instruction, the child had a remarkable aptitude. + +As these visions crowded before him, causing emotion to swell his +heart, he rose, and stood at the window, looking down into the +little walled strip of garden, where the pear-tree, bare of +leaves before its time, stood with gaunt branches in the +slow-gathering mist of the autumn afternoon. The dog Balthasar, +his tail curled tightly over a piebald, furry back, was walking +at the farther end, sniffing at the plants, and at intervals +placing his leg for support against the wall. + +And old Jolyon mused. + +What pleasure was there left but to give? It was pleasant to +give, when you could find one who would be thankful for what you +gave--one of your own flesh and blood! There was no such +satisfaction to be had out of giving to those who did not belong +to you, to those who had no claim on you! Such giving as that +was a betrayal of the individualistic convictions and actions of +his life, of all his enterprise, his labour, and his moderation, +of the great and proud fact that, like tens of thousands of +Forsytes before him, tens of thousands in the present, tens of +thousands in the future, he had always made his own, and held his +own, in the world. + +And, while he stood there looking down on the smut-covered +foliage of the laurels, the blackstained grass-plot, the progress +of the dog Balthasar, all the suffering of the fifteen years +during which he had been baulked of legitimate enjoyment mingled +its gall with the sweetness of the approaching moment. + +Young Jolyon came at last, pleased with his work, and fresh from +long hours in the open air. On hearing that his father was in +the drawing room, he inquired hurriedly whether Mrs. Forsyte was +at home, and being informed that she was not, heaved a sigh of +relief. Then putting his painting materials carefully in the +little coat-closet out of sight, he went in. + +With characteristic decision old Jolyon came at once to the +point. "I've been altering my arrangements, Jo," he said. "You +can cut your coat a bit longer in the future--I'm settling a +thousand a year on you at once. June will have fifty thousand at +my death; and you the rest. That dog of yours is spoiling the +garden. I shouldn't keep a dog, if I were you!" + +The dog Balthasar, seated in the centre of the lawn, was +examining his tail. + +Young Jolyon looked at the animal, but saw him dimly, for his +eyes were misty. + +"Yours won't come short of a hundred thousand, my boy," said old +Jolyon; "I thought you'd better know. I haven't much longer to +live at my age. I shan't allude to it again. How's your wife? +And--give her my love." + +Young Jolyon put his hand on his father's shoulder, and, as +neither spoke, the episode closed. + +Having seen his father into a hansom, young Jolyon came back to +the drawing-room and stood, where old Jolyon had stood, looking +down on the little garden. He tried to realize all that this +meant to him, and, Forsyte that he was, vistas of property were +opened out in his brain; the years of half rations through which +he had passed had not sapped his natural instincts. In extremely +practical form, he thought of travel, of his wife's costume, the +children's education, a pony for Jolly, a thousand things; but in +the midst of all he thought, too, of Bosinney and his mistress, +and the broken song of the thrush. Joy--tragedy! Which? Which? + +The old past--the poignant, suffering, passionate, wonderful +past, that no money could buy, that nothing could restore in all +its burning sweetness--had come back before him. + +When his wife came in he went straight up to her and took her in +his arms; and for a long time he stood without speaking, his eyes +closed, pressing her to him, while she looked at him with a +wondering, adoring, doubting look in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +VOYAGE INTO THE INFERNO + + +The morning after a certain night on which Soames at last +asserted his rights and acted like a man, he breakfasted alone. + +He breakfasted by gaslight, the fog of late November wrapping the +town as in some monstrous blanket till the trees of the Square +even were barely visible from the diningroom window. + +He ate steadily, but at times a sensation as though he could not +swallow attacked him. Had he been right to yield to his +overmastering hunger of the night before, and break down the +resistance which he had suffered now too long from this woman who +was his lawful and solemnly constituted helpmate? + +He was strangely haunted by the recollection of her face, from +before which, to soothe her, he had tried to pull her hands--of +her terrible smothered sobbing, the like of which he had never +heard, and still seemed to hear; and he was still haunted by the +odd, intolerable feeling of remorse and shame he had felt, as he +stood looking at her by the flame of the single candle, before +silently slinking away. + +And somehow, now that he had acted like this, he was surprised at +himself. + +Two nights before, at Winifred Dartie's, he had taken Mrs. +MacAnder into dinner. She had said to him, looking in his face +with her sharp, greenish eyes: "And so your wife is a great +friend of that Mr. Bosinney's?" + +Not deigning to ask what she meant, he had brooded over her +words. + +They had roused in him a fierce jealousy, which, with the +peculiar perversion of this instinct, had turned to fiercer +desire. + +Without the incentive of Mrs. MacAnder's words he might never +have done what he had done. Without their incentive and the +accident of finding his wife's door for once unlocked, which had +enabled him to steal upon her asleep. + +Slumber had removed his doubts, but the morning brought them +again. One thought comforted him: No one would know--it was not +the sort of thing that she would speak about. + +And, indeed, when the vehicle of his daily business life, which +needed so imperatively the grease of clear and practical thought, +started rolling once more with the reading of his letters, those +nightmare-like doubts began to assume less extravagant importance +at the back of his mind. The incident was really not of great +moment; women made a fuss about it in books; but in the cool +judgment of right-thinking men, of men of the world, of such as +he recollected often received praise in the Divorce Court, he had +but done his best to sustain the sanctity of marriage, to prevent +her from abandoning her duty, possibly, if she were still seeing +Bosinney, from.... + +No, he did not regret it. + +Now that the first step towards reconciliation had been taken, +the rest would be comparatively--comparatively.... + +He, rose and walked to the window. His nerve had been shaken. +The sound of smothered sobbing was in his ears again. He could +not get rid of it. + +He put on his fur coat, and went out into the fog; having to go +into the City, he took the underground railway from Sloane Square +station. + +In his corner of the first-class compartment filled with City men +the smothered sobbing still haunted him, so he opened the Times +with the rich crackle that drowns all lesser sounds, and, +barricaded behind it, set himself steadily to con the news. + +He read that a Recorder had charged a grand jury on the previous +day with a more than usually long list of offences. He read of +three murders, five manslaughters, seven arsons, and as many as +eleven rapes--a surprisingly high number--in addition to many +less conspicuous crimes, to be tried during a coming Sessions; +and from one piece of news he went on to another, keeping the +paper well before his face. + +And still, inseparable from his reading, was the memory of +Irene's tear-stained face, and the sounds from her broken heart. + +The day was a busy one, including, in addition to the ordinary +affairs of his practice, a visit to his brokers, Messrs. Grin +and Grinning, to give them instructions to sell his shares in the +New Colliery Co., Ltd., whose business he suspected, rather than +knew, was stagnating (this enterprise afterwards slowly declined, +and was ultimately sold for a song to an American syndicate); and +a long conference at Waterbuck, Q.C.'s chambers, attended by +Boulter, by Fiske, the junior counsel, and Waterbuck, Q.C., +himself. + +The case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was expected to be reached on +the morrow, before Mr. Justice Bentham. + +Mr. Justice Bentham, a man of common-sense rather than too great +legal knowledge, was considered to be about the best man they +could have to try the action. He was a 'strong' Judge. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., in pleasing conjunction with an almost rude +neglect of Boulter and Fiske paid to Soames a good deal of +attention, by instinct or the sounder evidence of rumour, feeling +him to be a man of property. + +He held with remarkable consistency to the opinion he had already +expressed in writing, that the issue would depend to a great +extent on the evidence given at the trial, and in a few well +directed remarks he advised Soames not to be too careful in +giving that evidence. "A little bluffness, Mr. Forsyte," he said, +"a little bluffness," and after he had spoken he laughed firmly, +closed his lips tight, and scratched his head just below where he +had pushed his wig back, for all the world like the gentleman- +farmer for whom he loved to be taken. He was considered perhaps +the leading man in breach of promise cases. + +Soames used the underground again in going home. + +The fog was worse than ever at Sloane Square station. Through +the still, thick blur, men groped in and out; women, very few, +grasped their reticules to their bosoms and handkerchiefs to +their mouths; crowned with the weird excrescence of the driver, +haloed by a vague glow of lamp-light that seemed to drown in +vapour before it reached the pavement, cabs loomed dimshaped ever +and again, and discharged citizens, bolting like rabbits to their +burrows. + +And these shadowy figures, wrapped each in his own little shroud +of fog, took no notice of each other. In the great warren, each +rabbit for himself, especially those clothed in the more +expensive fur, who, afraid of carriages on foggy days, are driven +underground. + +One figure, however, not far from Soames, waited at the station +door. + +Some buccaneer or lover, of whom each Forsyte thought: 'Poor +devil! looks as if he were having a bad time!' Their kind hearts +beat a stroke faster for that poor, waiting, anxious lover in the +fog; but they hurried by, well knowing that they had neither time +nor money to spare for any suffering but their own. + +Only a policeman, patrolling slowly and at intervals, took an +interest in that waiting figure, the brim of whose slouch hat +half hid a face reddened by the cold, all thin, and haggard, over +which a hand stole now and again to smooth away anxiety, or renew +the resolution that kept him waiting there. But the waiting +lover (if lover he were) was used to policemen's scrutiny, or too +absorbed in his anxiety, for he never flinched. A hardened case, +accustomed to long trysts, to anxiety, and fog, and cold, if only +his mistress came at last. Foolish lover! Fogs last until the +spring; there is also snow and rain, no comfort anywhere; gnawing +fear if you bring her out, gnawing fear if you bid her stay at +home! + +"Serve him right; he should arrange his affairs better!" + +So any respectable Forsyte. Yet, if that sounder citizen could +have listened at the waiting lover's heart, out there in the fog +and the cold, he would have said again: "Yes, poor devil he's +having a bad time!" + +Soames got into his cab, and, with the glass down, crept along +Sloane Street, and so along the Brompton Road, and home. He +reached his house at five. + +His wife was not in. She had gone out a quarter of an hour +before. Out at such a time of night, into this terrible fog! +What was the meaning of that? + +He sat by the dining-room fire, with the door open, disturbed to +the soul, trying to read the evening paper. A book was no good-- +in daily papers alone was any narcotic to such worry as his. +From the customary events recorded in the journal he drew some +comfort. 'Suicide of an actress'--'Grave indisposition of a +Statesman' (that chronic sufferer)--'Divorce of an army officer' +--'Fire in a colliery'--he read them all. They helped him a +little--prescribed by the greatest of all doctors, our natural +taste. + +It was nearly seven when he heard her come in. + +The incident of the night before had long lost its importance +under stress of anxiety at her strange sortie into the fog. But +now that Irene was home, the memory of her broken-hearted sobbing +came back to him, and he felt nervous at the thought of facing +her. + +She was already on the stairs; her grey fur coat hung to her +knees, its high collar almost hid her face, she wore a thick +veil. + +She neither turned to look at him nor spoke. No ghost or +stranger could have passed more silently. + +Bilson came to lay dinner, and told him that Mrs. Forsyte was not +coming down; she was having the soup in her room. + +For once Soames did not 'change'; it was, perhaps, the first time +in his life that he had sat down to dinner with soiled cuffs, +and, not even noticing them, he brooded long over his wine. He +sent Bilson to light a fire in his picture-room, and presently +went up there himself. + +Turning on the gas, he heaved a deep sigh, as though amongst +these treasures, the backs of which confronted him in stacks, +around the little room, he had found at length his peace of mind. +He went straight up to the greatest treasure of them all, an +undoubted Turner, and, carrying it to the easel, turned its face +to the light. There had been a movement in Turners, but he had +not been able to make up his mind to part with it. He stood for +a long time, his pale, clean-shaven face poked forward above his +stand-up collar, looking at the picture as though he were adding +it up; a wistful expression came into his eyes; he found, +perhaps, that it came to too little. He took it down from the +easel to put it back against the wall; but, in crossing the room, +stopped, for he seemed to hear sobbing. + +It was nothing--only the sort of thing that had been bothering +him in the morning. And soon after, putting the high guard +before the blazing fire, he stole downstairs. + +Fresh for the morrow! was his thought. It was long before he +went to sleep.... + +It is now to George Forsyte that the mind must turn for light on +the events of that fog-engulfed afternoon. + +The wittiest and most sportsmanlike of the Forsytes had passed +the day reading a novel in the paternal mansion at Princes' +Gardens. Since a recent crisis in his financial affairs he had +been kept on parole by Roger, and compelled to reside 'at home.' + +Towards five o'clock he went out, and took train at South +Kensington Station (for everyone to-day went Underground). His +intention was to dine, and pass the evening playing billiards at +the Red Pottle--that unique hostel, neither club, hotel, nor good +gilt restaurant. + +He got out at Charing Cross, choosing it in preference to his +more usual St. James's Park, that he might reach Jermyn Street +by better lighted ways. + +On the platform his eyes--for in combination with a composed and +fashionable appearance, George had sharp eyes, and was always on +the look-out for fillips to his sardonic humour--his eyes were +attracted by a man, who, leaping from a first-class compartment, +staggered rather than walked towards the exit. + +'So ho, my bird!' said George to himself; 'why, it's "the +Buccaneer!"' and he put his big figure on the trail. Nothing +afforded him greater amusement than a drunken man. + +Bosinney, who wore a slouch hat, stopped in front of him, spun +around, and rushed back towards the carriage he had just left. +He was too late. A porter caught him by the coat; the train was +already moving on. + +George's practised glance caught sight of the face of a lady clad +in a grey fur coat at the carriage window. It was Mrs. Soames-- +and George felt that this was interesting! + +And now he followed Bosinney more closely than ever--up the +stairs, past the ticket collector into the street. In that +progress, however, his feelings underwent a change; no longer +merely curious and amused, he felt sorry for the poor fellow he +was shadowing. 'The Buccaneer' was not drunk, but seemed to be +acting under the stress of violent emotion; he was talking to +himself, and all that George could catch were the words "Oh, +God!" Nor did he appear to know what he was doing, or where +going; but stared, hesitated, moved like a man out of his mind; +and from being merely a joker in search of amusement, George felt +that he must see the poor chap through. + +He had 'taken the knock'--'taken the knock!' And he wondered what +on earth Mrs. Soames had been saying, what on earth she had been +telling him in the railway carriage. She had looked bad enough +herself! It made George sorry to think of her travelling on with +her trouble all alone. + +He followed close behind Bosinney's elbow--tall, burly figure, +saying nothing, dodging warily--and shadowed him out into the +fog. + +There was something here beyond a jest! He kept his head +admirably, in spite of some excitement, for in addition to +compassion, the instincts of the chase were roused within him. + +Bosinney walked right out into the thoroughfare--a vast muffled +blackness, where a man could not see six paces before him; where, +all around, voices or whistles mocked the sense of direction; and +sudden shapes came rolling slow upon them; and now and then a +light showed like a dim island in an infinite dark sea. + +And fast into this perilous gulf of night walked Bosinney, and +fast after him walked George. If the fellow meant to put his +'twopenny' under a 'bus, he would stop it if he could! Across +the street and back the hunted creature strode, not groping as +other men were groping in that gloom, but driven forward as +though the faithful George behind wielded a knout; and this chase +after a haunted man began to have for George the strangest +fascination. + +But it was now that the affair developed in a way which ever +afterwards caused it to remain green in his mind. Brought to a +stand-still in the fog, he heard words which threw a sudden light +on these proceedings. What Mrs. Soames had said to Bosinney in +the train was now no longer dark. George understood from those +mutterings that Soames had exercised his rights over an estranged +and unwilling wife in the greatest--the supreme act of property. + +His fancy wandered in the fields of this situation; it impressed +him; he guessed something of the anguish, the sexual confusion +and horror in Bosinney's heart. And he thought: 'Yes, it's a bit +thick! I don't wonder the poor fellow is halfcracked!' + +He had run his quarry to earth on a bench under one of the lions +in Trafalgar Square, a monster sphynx astray like themselves in +that gulf of darkness. Here, rigid and silent, sat Bosinney, and +George, in whose patience was a touch of strange brotherliness, +took his stand behind. He was not lacking in a certain delicacy- +-a sense of form--that did not permit him to intrude upon this +tragedy, and he waited, quiet as the lion above, his fur collar +hitched above his ears concealing the fleshy redness of his +cheeks, concealing all but his eyes with their sardonic, +compassionate stare. And men kept passing back from business on +the way to their clubs--men whose figures shrouded in cocoons of +fog came into view like spectres, and like spectres vanished. +Then even in his compassion George's Quilpish humour broke forth +in a sudden longing to pluck these spectres by the sleeve, and +say: + +"Hi, you Johnnies! You don't often see a show like this! Here's +a poor devil whose mistress has just been telling him a pretty +little story of her husband; walk up, walk up! He's taken the +knock, you see." + +In fancy he saw them gaping round the tortured lover; and grinned +as he thought of some respectable, newly-married spectre enabled +by the state of his own affections to catch an inkling of what +was going on within Bosinney; he fancied he could see his mouth +getting wider and wider, and the fog going down and down. For in +George was all that contempt of the of the married middle-class-- +peculiar to the wild and sportsmanlike spirits in its ranks. + +But he began to be bored. Waiting was not what he had bargained +for. + +'After all,' he thought, 'the poor chap will get over it; not the +first time such a thing has happened in this little city!' But +now his quarry again began muttering words of violent hate and +anger. And following a sudden impulse George touched him on the +shoulder. + +Bosinney spun round. + +"Who are you? What do you want?" + +George could have stood it well enough in the light of the gas +lamps, in the light of that everyday world of which he was so +hardy a connoisseur; but in this fog, where all was gloomy and +unreal, where nothing had that matter-of-fact value associated by +Forsytes with earth, he was a victim to strange qualms, and as he +tried to stare back into the eyes of this maniac, he thought: + +'If I see a bobby, I'll hand him over; he's not fit to be at +large.' + +But waiting for no answer, Bosinney strode off into the fog, and +George followed, keeping perhaps a little further off, yet more +than ever set on tracking him down. + +'He can't go on long like this,' he thought. 'It's God's own +miracle he's not been run over already.' He brooded no more on +policemen, a sportsman's sacred fire alive again within him. + +Into a denser gloom than ever Bosinney held on at a furious pace; +but his pursuer perceived more method in his madness--he was +clearly making his way westwards. + +'He's really going for Soames!' thought George. The idea was +attractive. It would be a sporting end to such a chase. He had +always disliked his cousin. + +The shaft of a passing cab brushed against his shoulder and made +him leap aside. He did not intend to be killed for the Buccaneer, +or anyone. Yet, with hereditary tenacity, he stuck to the trail +through vapour that blotted out everything but the shadow of the +hunted man and the dim moon of the nearest lamp. + +Then suddenly, with the instinct of a town-stroller, George knew +himself to be in Piccadilly. Here he could find his way blindfold; +and freed from the strain of geographical uncertainty, his mind +returned to Bosinney's trouble. + +Down the long avenue of his man-about-town experience, bursting, +as it were, through a smirch of doubtful amours, there stalked to +him a memory of his youth. A memory, poignant still, that brought +the scent of hay, the gleam of moonlight, a summer magic, into +the reek and blackness of this London fog--the memory of a night +when in the darkest shadow of a lawn he had overheard from a +woman's lips that he was not her sole possessor. And for a moment +George walked no longer in black Piccadilly, but lay again, with +hell in his heart, and his face to the sweet-smelling, dewy grass, +in the long shadow of poplars that hid the moon. + +A longing seized him to throw his arm round the Buccaneer, and +say, "Come, old boy. Time cures all. Let's go and drink it off!" + +But a voice yelled at him, and he started back. A cab rolled out +of blackness, and into blackness disappeared. And suddenly +George perceived that he had lost Bosinney. He ran forward and +back, felt his heart clutched by a sickening fear, the dark fear +which lives in the wings of the fog. Perspiration started out on +his brow. He stood quite still, listening with all his might. + +"And then," as he confided to Dartie the same evening in the +course of a game of billiards at the Red Pottle, "I lost him." + +Dartie twirled complacently at his dark moustache. He had just +put together a neat break of twenty-three,--failing at a 'Jenny.' +"And who was she?" he asked. + +George looked slowly at the 'man of the world's' fattish, sallow +face, and a little grim smile lurked about the curves of his +cheeks and his heavy-lidded eyes. + +'No, no, my fine fellow,' he thought, 'I'm not going to tell +you.' For though he mixed with Dartie a good deal, he thought him +a bit of a cad. + +"Oh, some little love-lady or other," he said, and chalked his +cue. + +"A love-lady!" exclaimed Dartie--he used a more figurative +expression. "I made sure it was our friend Soa...." + +"Did you?" said George curtly. "Then damme you've made an +error." + +He missed his shot. He was careful not to allude to the subject +again till, towards eleven o'clock, having, in his poetic +phraseology, 'looked upon the drink when it was yellow,' he drew +aside the blind, and gazed out into the street. The murky +blackness of the fog was but faintly broken by the lamps of the +'Red Pottle,' and no shape of mortal man or thing was in sight. + +"I can't help thinking of that poor Buccaneer," he said. "He may +be wandering out there now in that fog. If he's not a corpse," +he added with strange dejection. + +"Corpse!" said Dartie, in whom the recollection of his defeat at +Richmond flared up. "He's all right. Ten to one if he wasn't +tight!" + +George turned on him, looking really formidable, with a sort of +savage gloom on his big face. + +"Dry up!" he said. "Don't I tell you he's 'taken the knock!"' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TRIAL + + +In the morning of his case, which was second in the list, Soames +was again obliged to start without seeing Irene, and it was just +as well, for he had not as yet made up his mind what attitude to +adopt towards her. + +He had been requested to be in court by half-past ten, to provide +against the event of the first action (a breach of promise) +collapsing, which however it did not, both sides showing a +courage that afforded Waterbuck, Q.C., an opportunity for +improving his already great reputation in this class of case. He +was opposed by Ram, the other celebrated breach of promise man. +It was a battle of giants. + +The court delivered judgment just before the luncheon interval. +The jury left the box for good, and Soames went out to get +something to eat. He met James standing at the little luncheon- +bar, like a pelican in the wilderness of the galleries, bent over +a sandwich with a glass of sherry before him. The spacious +emptiness of the great central hall, over which father and son +brooded as they stood together, was marred now and then for a +fleeting moment by barristers in wig and gown hurriedly bolting +across, by an occasional old lady or rusty-coated man, looking up +in a frightened way, and by two persons, bolder than their +generation, seated in an embrasure arguing. The sound of their +voices arose, together with a scent as of neglected wells, which, +mingling with the odour of the galleries, combined to form the +savour, like nothing but the emanation of a refined cheese, so +indissolubly connected with the administration of British +Justice. + +It was not long before James addressed his son. + +"When's your case coming on? I suppose it'll be on directly. I +shouldn't wonder if this Bosinney'd say anything; I should think +he'd have to. He'll go bankrupt if it goes against him." He took +a large bite at his sandwich and a mouthful of sherry. "Your +mother," he said, "wants you and Irene to come and dine +to-night." + +A chill smile played round Soames' lips; he looked back at his +father. Anyone who had seen the look, cold and furtive, thus +interchanged, might have been pardoned for not appreciating the +real understanding between them. James finished his sherry at a +draught. + +"How much?" he asked. + +On returning to the court Soames took at once his rightful seat +on the front bench beside his solicitor. He ascertained where +his father was seated with a glance so sidelong as to commit +nobody. + +James, sitting back with his hands clasped over the handle of his +umbrella, was brooding on the end of the bench immediately behind +counsel, whence he could get away at once when the case was over. +He considered Bosinney's conduct in every way outrageous, but he +did not wish to run up against him, feeling that the meeting +would be awkward. + +Next to the Divorce Court, this court was, perhaps, the favourite +emporium of justice, libel, breach of promise, and other +commercial actions being frequently decided there. Quite a +sprinkling of persons unconnected with the law occupied the back +benches, and the hat of a woman or two could be seen in the +gallery. + +The two rows of seats immediately in front of James were +gradually filled by barristers in wigs, who sat down to make +pencil notes, chat, and attend to their teeth; but his interest +was soon diverted from these lesser lights of justice by the +entrance of Waterbuck, Q.C., with the wings of his silk gown +rustling, and his red, capable face supported by two short, brown +whiskers. The famous Q.C. looked, as James freely admitted, the +very picture of a man who could heckle a witness. + +For all his experience, it so happened that he had never seen +Waterbuck, Q.C., before, and, like many Forsytes in the lower +branch of the profession, he had an extreme admiration for a good +cross-examiner. The long, lugubrious folds in his cheeks relaxed +somewhat after seeing him, especially as he now perceived that +Soames alone was represented by silk. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., had barely screwed round on his elbow to chat +with his Junior before Mr. Justice Bentham himself appeared--a +thin, rather hen-like man, with a little stoop, clean-shaven +under his snowy wig. Like all the rest of the court, Waterbuck +rose, and remained on his feet until the judge was seated. James +rose but slightly; he was already comfortable, and had no opinion +of Bentham, having sat next but one to him at dinner twice at the +Bumley Tomms'. Bumley Tomm was rather a poor thing, though he +had been so successful. James himself had given him his first +brief. He was excited, too, for he had just found out that +Bosinney was not in court. + +'Now, what's he mean by that?' he kept on thinking. + +The case having been called on, Waterbuck, Q.C., pushing back his +papers, hitched his gown on his shoulder, and, with a +semi-circular look around him, like a man who is going to bat, +arose and addressed the Court. + +The facts, he said, were not in dispute, and all that his +Lordship would be asked was to interpret the correspondence which +had taken place between his client and the defendant, an +architect, with reference to the decoration of a house. He +would, however, submit that this correspondence could only mean +one very plain thing. After briefly reciting the history of the +house at Robin Hill, which he described as a mansion, and the +actual facts of expenditure, he went on as follows: + +"My client, Mr. Soames Forsyte, is a gentleman, a man of +property, who would be the last to dispute any legitimate claim +that might be made against him, but he has met with such +treatment from his architect in the matter of this house, over +which he has, as your lordship has heard, already spent some +twelve--some twelve thousand pounds, a sum considerably in +advance of the amount he had originally contemplated, that as a +matter of principle--and this I cannot too strongly emphasize--as +a matter of principle, and in the interests of others, he has +felt himself compelled to bring this action. The point put +forward in defence by the architect I will suggest to your +lordship is not worthy of a moment's serious consideration." He +then read the correspondence. + +His client, "a man of recognised position," was prepared to go +into the box, and to swear that he never did authorize, that it +was never in his mind to authorize, the expenditure of any money +beyond the extreme limit of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +which he had clearly fixed; and not further to waste the time of +the court, he would at once call Mr. Forsyte. + +Soames then went into the box. His whole appearance was striking +in its composure. His face, just supercilious enough, pale and +clean-shaven, with a little line between the eyes, and compressed +lips; his dress in unostentatious order, one hand neatly gloved, +the other bare. He answered the questions put to him in a +somewhat low, but distinct voice. His evidence under cross- +examination savoured of taciturnity. + +Had he not used the expression, "a free hand"? No. + +"Come, come!" + +The expression he had used was 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence.' + +"Would you tell the Court that that was English?" + +"Yes!" + +"What do you say it means?" + +"What it says!" + +"Are you prepared to deny that it is a contradiction in terms?" + +"Yes." + +"You are not an Irishman?" + +"No." + +"Are you a well-educated man?" + +"Yes." + +"And yet you persist in that statement?" + +"Yes." + +Throughout this and much more cross-examination, which turned +again and again around the 'nice point,' James sat with his hand +behind his ear, his eyes fixed upon his son. + +He was proud of him! He could not but feel that in similar +circumstances he himself would have been tempted to enlarge his +replies, but his instinct told him that this taciturnity was the +very thing. He sighed with relief, however, when Soames, slowly +turning, and without any change of expression, descended from the +box. + +When it came to the turn of Bosinney's Counsel to address the +Judge, James redoubled his attention, and he searched the Court +again and again to see if Bosinney were not somewhere concealed. + +Young Chankery began nervously; he was placed by Bosinney's +absence in an awkward position. He therefore did his best to +turn that absence to account. + +He could not but fear--he said--that his client had met with an +accident. He had fully expected him there to give evidence; they +had sent round that morning both to Mr. Bosinney's office and to +his rooms (though he knew they were one and the same, he thought +it was as well not to say so), but it was not known where he was, +and this he considered to be ominous, knowing how anxious Mr. +Bosinney had been to give his evidence. He had not, however, +been instructed to apply for an adjournment, and in default of +such instruction he conceived it his duty to go on. The plea on +which he somewhat confidently relied, and which his client, had +he not unfortunately been prevented in some way from attending, +would have supported by his evidence, was that such an expression +as a 'free hand' could not be limited, fettered, and rendered +unmeaning, by any verbiage which might follow it. He would go +further and say that the correspondence showed that whatever he +might have said in his evidence, Mr. Forsyte had in fact never +contemplated repudiating liability on any of the work ordered or +executed by his architect. The defendant had certainly never +contemplated such a contingency, or, as was demonstrated by his +letters, he would never have proceeded with the work--a work of +extreme delicacy, carried out with great care and efficiency, to +meet and satisfy the fastidious taste of a connoisseur, a rich +man, a man of property. He felt strongly on this point, and +feeling strongly he used, perhaps, rather strong words when he +said that this action was of a most unjustifiable, unexpected, +indeed--unprecedented character. If his Lordship had had the +opportunity that he himself had made it his duty to take, to go +over this very fine house and see the great delicacy and beauty +of the decorations executed by his client--an artist in his most +honourable profession--he felt convinced that not for one moment +would his Lordship tolerate this, he would use no stronger word +than, daring attempt to evade legitimate responsibility. + +Taking the text of Soames' letters, he lightly touched on +'Boileau v. The Blasted Cement Company, Limited.' "It is +doubtful," he said, "what that authority has decided; in any case +I would submit that it is just as much in my favour as in my +friend's." He then argued the 'nice point' closely. With all +due deference he submitted that Mr. Forsyte's expression +nullified itself. His client not being a rich man, the matter +was a serious one for him; he was a very talented architect, +whose professional reputation was undoubtedly somewhat at stake. +He concluded with a perhaps too personal appeal to the Judge, as +a lover of the arts, to show himself the protector of artists, +from what was occasionally--he said occasionally--the too iron +hand of capital. "What," he said, "will be the position of the +artistic professions, if men of property like this Mr. Forsyte +refuse, and are allowed to refuse, to carry out the obligations +of the commissions which they have given." He would now call +his client, in case he should at the last moment have found +himself able to be present. + +The name Philip Baynes Bosinney was called three times by the +Ushers, and the sound of the calling echoed with strange +melancholy throughout the Court and Galleries. + +The crying of this name, to which no answer was returned, had +upon James a curious effect: it was like calling for your lost +dog about the streets. And the creepy feeling that it gave him, +of a man missing, grated on his sense of comfort and security-on +his cosiness. Though he could not have said why, it made him +feel uneasy. + +He looked now at the clock--a quarter to three! It would be all +over in a quarter of an hour. Where could the young fellow be? + +It was only when Mr. Justice Bentham delivered judgment that he +got over the turn he had received. + +Behind the wooden erection, by which he was fenced from more +ordinary mortals, the learned Judge leaned forward. The electric +light, just turned on above his head, fell on his face, and +mellowed it to an orange hue beneath the snowy crown of his wig; +the amplitude of his robes grew before the eye; his whole figure, +facing the comparative dusk of the Court, radiated like some +majestic and sacred body. He cleared his throat, took a sip of +water, broke the nib of a quill against the desk, and, folding +his bony hands before him, began. + +To James he suddenly loomed much larger than he had ever thought +Bentham would loom. It was the majesty of the law; and a person +endowed with a nature far less matter-of-fact than that of James +might have been excused for failing to pierce this halo, and +disinter therefrom the somewhat ordinary Forsyte, who walked and +talked in every-day life under the name of Sir Walter Bentham. + +He delivered judgment in the following words: + +"The facts in this case are not in dispute. On May 15 last the +defendant wrote to the plaintiff, requesting to be allowed to +withdraw from his professional position in regard to the +decoration of the plaintiff's house, unless he were given 'a free +hand.' The plaintiff, on May 17, wrote back as follows: 'In +giving you, in accordance with your request, this free hand, I +wish you to clearly understand that the total cost of the house +as handed over to me completely decorated, inclusive of your fee +(as arranged between us) must not exceed twelve thousand pounds.' +To this letter the defendant replied on May 18: 'If you think +that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can bind myself to +the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken.' On May 19 the +plaintiff wrote as follows: 'I did not mean to say that if you +should exceed the sum named in my letter to you by ten or twenty +or even fifty pounds there would be any difficulty between us. +You have a free hand in the terms of this correspondence, and I +hope you will see your way to completing the decorations.' On +May 20 the defendant replied thus shortly: 'Very well.' + +"In completing these decorations, the defendant incurred +liabilities and expenses which brought the total cost of this +house up to the sum of twelve thousand four hundred pounds, all +of which expenditure has been defrayed by the plaintiff. This +action has been brought by the plaintiff to recover from the +defendant the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds expended by +him in excess of a sum of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +alleged by the plaintiff to have been fixed by this +correspondence as the maximum sum that the defendant had +authority to expend. + +"The question for me to decide is whether or no the defendant is +liable to refund to the plaintiff this sum. In my judgment he is +so liable. + +"What in effect the plaintiff has said is this 'I give you a free +hand to complete these decorations, provided that you keep within +a total cost to me of twelve thousand pounds. If you exceed that +sum by as much as fifty pounds, I will not hold you responsible; +beyond that point you are no agent of mine, and I shall repudiate +liability.' It is not quite clear to me whether, had the +plaintiff in fact repudiated liability under his agent's +contracts, he would, under all the circumstances, have been +successful in so doing; but he has not adopted this course. He +has accepted liability, and fallen back upon his rights against +the defendant under the terms of the latter's engagement. + +"In my judgment the plaintiff is entitled to recover this sum +from the defendant. + +"It has been sought, on behalf of the defendant, to show that no +limit of expenditure was fixed or intended to be fixed by this +correspondence. If this were so, I can find no reason for the +plaintiff's importation into the correspondence of the figures of +twelve thousand pounds and subsequently of fifty pounds. The +defendant's contention would render these figures meaningless. +It is manifest to me that by his letter of May 20 he assented to +a very clear proposition, by the terms of which he must be held +to be bound. + +"For these reasons there will be judgment for the plaintiff for +the amount claimed with costs." + +James sighed, and stooping, picked up his umbrella which had +fallen with a rattle at the words 'importation into this +correspondence.' + +Untangling his legs, he rapidly left the Court; without waiting +for his son, he snapped up a hansom cab (it was a clear, grey +afternoon) and drove straight to Timothy's where he found +Swithin; and to him, Mrs. Septimus Small, and Aunt Hester, he +recounted the whole proceedings, eating two muffins not +altogether in the intervals of speech. + +"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on +the right way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business +for that young Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," +and then after a long pause, during which he had stared +disquietly into the fire, he added + +"He wasn't there--now why?" + +There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, +with the ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back +drawing-room. The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined +against the black of his frock coat. He spoke in a grudging +voice. + +"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning +round, he walked out. + +It was Timothy. + +James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew +there was something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, +staring before him, as though he had seen a portent. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SOAMES BREAKS THE NEWS + + +In leaving the Court Soames did not go straight home. He felt +disinclined for the City, and drawn by need for sympathy in his +triumph, he, too, made his way, but slowly and on foot, to +Timothy's in the Bayswater Road. + +His father had just left; Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester, in +possession of the whole story, greeted him warmly. They were +sure he was hungry after all that evidence. Smither should toast +him some more muffins, his dear father had eaten them all. He +must put his legs up on the sofa; and he must have a glass of +prune brandy too. It was so strengthening. + +Swithin was still present, having lingered later than his wont, +for he felt in want of exercise. On hearing this suggestion, he +'pished.' A pretty pass young men were coming to! His own liver +was out of order, and he could not bear the thought of anyone +else drinking prune brandy. + +He went away almost immediately, saying to Soames: "And how's +your wife? You tell her from me that if she's dull, and likes to +come and dine with me quietly, I'll give her such a bottle of +champagne as she doesn't get every day." Staring down from his +height on Soames he contracted his thick, puffy, yellow hand as +though squeezing within it all this small fry, and throwing out +his chest he waddled slowly away. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester were left horrified. Swithin was so +droll! + +They themselves were longing to ask Soames how Irene would take +the result, yet knew that they must not; he would perhaps say +something of his own accord, to throw some light on this, the +present burning question in their lives, the question that from +necessity of silence tortured them almost beyond bearing; for +even Timothy had now been told, and the effect on his health was +little short of alarming. And what, too, would June do? This, +also, was a most exciting, if dangerous speculation! + +They had never forgotten old Jolyon's visit, since when he had +not once been to see them; they had never forgotten the feeling +it gave all who were present, that the family was no longer what +it had been--that the family was breaking up. + +But Soames gave them no help, sitting with his knees crossed, +talking of the Barbizon school of painters, whom he had just +discovered. These were the coming men, he said; he should not +wonder if a lot of money were made over them; he had his eye on +two pictures by a man called Corot, charming things; if he could +get them at a reasonable price he was going to buy them--they +would, he thought, fetch a big price some day. + +Interested as they could not but be, neither Mrs. Septimus Small +nor Aunt Hester could entirely acquiesce in being thus put off. + +It was interesting--most interesting--and then Soames was so +clever that they were sure he would do something with those +pictures if anybody could; but what was his plan now that he had +won his case; was he going to leave London at once, and live in +the country, or what was he going to do? + +Soames answered that he did not know, he thought they should be +moving soon. He rose and kissed his aunts. + +No sooner had Aunt Juley received this emblem of departure than a +change came over her, as though she were being visited by +dreadful courage; every little roll of flesh on her face seemed +trying to escape from an invisible, confining mask. + +She rose to the full extent of her more than medium height, and +said: "It has been on my mind a long time, dear, and if nobody +else will tell you, I have made up my mind that...." + +Aunt Hester interrupted her: "Mind, Julia, you do it...." she +gasped--"on your own responsibility!" + +Mrs. Small went on as though she had not heard: "I think you +ought to know, dear, that Mrs. MacAnder saw Irene walking in +Richmond Park with Mr. Bosinney." + +Aunt Hester, who had also risen, sank back in her chair, and +turned her face away. Really Juley was too--she should not do +such things when she--Aunt Hester, was in the room; and, +breathless with anticipation, she waited for what Soames would +answer. + +He had flushed the peculiar flush which always centred between +his eyes; lifting his hand, and, as it were, selecting a finger, +he bit a nail delicately; then, drawling it out between set lips, +he said: "Mrs. MacAnder is a cat!" + +Without waiting for any reply, he left the room. + +When he went into Timothy's he had made up his mind what course +to pursue on getting home. He would go up to Irene and say: + +"Well, I've won my case, and there's an end of it! I don't want +to be hard on Bosinney; I'll see if we can't come to some +arrangement; he shan't be pressed. And now let's turn over a +new leaf! We'll let the house, and get out of these fogs. We'll +go down to Robin Hill at once. I--I never meant to be rough with +you! Let's shake hands--and--" Perhaps she would let him kiss +her, and forget! + +When he came out of Timothy's his intentions were no longer so +simple. The smouldering jealousy and suspicion of months blazed +up within him. He would put an end to that sort of thing once +and for all; he would not have her drag his name in the dirt! If +she could not or would not love him, as was her duty and his +right--she should not play him tricks with anyone else! He would +tax her with it; threaten to divorce her! That would make her +behave; she would never face that. But--but--what if she did? +He was staggered; this had not occurred to him. + +What if she did? What if she made him a confession? How would +he stand then? He would have to bring a divorce! + +A divorce! Thus close, the word was paralyzing, so utterly at +variance with all the principles that had hitherto guided his +life. Its lack of compromise appalled him; he felt--like the +captain of a ship, going to the side of his vessel, and, with his +own hands throwing over the most precious of his bales. This +jettisoning of his property with his own hand seemed uncanny to +Soames. It would injure him in his profession: He would have to +get rid of the house at Robin Hill, on which he had spent so much +money, so much anticipation--and at a sacrifice. And she! She +would no longer belong to him, not even in name! She would pass +out of his life, and he--he should never see her again! + +He traversed in the cab the length of a street without getting +beyond the thought that he should never see her again! + +But perhaps there was nothing to confess, even now very likely +there was nothing to confess. Was it wise to push things so far? +Was it wise to put himself into a position where he might have to +eat his words? The result of this case would ruin Bosinney; a +ruined man was desperate, but--what could he do? He might go +abroad, ruined men always went abroad. What could they do--if +indeed it was 'they'--without money? It would be better to wait +and see how things turned out. If necessary, he could have her +watched. The agony of his jealousy (for all the world like the +crisis of an aching tooth) came on again; and he almost cried +out. But he must decide, fix on some course of action before he +got home. When the cab drew up at the door, he had decided +nothing. + +He entered, pale, his hands moist with perspiration, dreading to +meet her, burning to meet her, ignorant of what he was to say or +do. + +The maid Bilson was in the hall, and in answer to his question: +"Where is your mistress?" told him that Mrs. Forsyte had left the +house about noon, taking with her a trunk and bag. + +Snatching the sleeve of his fur coat away from her grasp, he +confronted her: + +"What?" he exclaimed; "what's that you said?" Suddenly +recollecting that he must not betray emotion, he added: "What +message did she leave?" and noticed with secret terror the +startled look of the maid's eyes. + +"Mrs. Forsyte left no message, sir." + +"No message; very well, thank you, that will do. I shall be +dining out." + +The maid went downstairs, leaving him still in his fur coat, idly +turning over the visiting cards in the porcelain bowl that stood +on the carved oak rug chest in the hall. + +Mr. and Mrs. Bareham Culcher. +Mrs. Septimus Small. +Mrs. Baynes. +Mr. Solomon Thornworthy. +Lady Bellis. +Miss Hermione Bellis. +Miss Winifred Bellis. +Miss Ella Bellis. + +Who the devil were all these people? He seemed to have forgotten +all familiar things. The words 'no message--a trunk, and a bag,' +played a hide-and-seek in his brain. It was incredible that she +had left no message, and, still in his fur coat, he ran upstairs +two steps at a time, as a young married man when he comes home +will run up to his wife's room. + +Everything was dainty, fresh, sweet-smelling; everything in +perfect order. On the great bed with its lilac silk quilt, was +the bag she had made and embroidered with her own hands to hold +her sleeping things; her slippers ready at the foot; the sheets +even turned over at the head as though expecting her. + +On the table stood the silver-mounted brushes and bottles from +her dressing bag, his own present. There must, then, be some +mistake. What bag had she taken? He went to the bell to summon +Bilson, but remembered in time that he must assume knowledge of +where Irene had gone, take it all as a matter of course, and +grope out the meaning for himself. + +He locked the doors, and tried to think, but felt his brain going +round; and suddenly tears forced themselves into his eyes. + +Hurriedly pulling off his coat, he looked at himself in the +mirror. + +He was too pale, a greyish tinge all over his face; he poured out +water, and began feverishly washing. + +Her silver-mounted brushes smelt faintly of the perfumed lotion +she used for her hair; and at this scent the burning sickness of +his jealousy seized him again. + +Struggling into his fur, he ran downstairs and out into the +street. + +He had not lost all command of himself, however, and as he went +down Sloane Street he framed a story for use, in case he should +not find her at Bosinney's. But if he should? His power of +decision again failed; he reached the house without knowing what +he should do if he did find her there. + +It was after office hours, and the street door was closed; the +woman who opened it could not say whether Mr. Bosinney were in or +no; she had not seen him that day, not for two or three days; she +did not attend to him now, nobody attended to him, he.... + +Soames interrupted her, he would go up and see for himself. He +went up with a dogged, white face. + +The top floor was unlighted, the door closed, no one answered his +ringing, he could hear no sound. He was obliged to descend, +shivering under his fur, a chill at his heart. Hailing a cab, he +told the man to drive to Park Lane. + +On the way he tried to recollect when he had last given her a +cheque; she could not have more than three or four pounds, but +there were her jewels; and with exquisite torture he remembered +how much money she could raise on these; enough to take them +abroad; enough for them to live on for months! He tried to +calculate; the cab stopped, and he got out with the calculation +unmade. + +The butler asked whether Mrs. Soames was in the cab, the master +had told him they were both expected to dinner. + +Soames answered: "No. Mrs. Forsyte has a cold." + +The butler was sorry. + +Soames thought he was looking at him inquisitively, and +remembering that he was not in dress clothes, asked: "Anybody +here to dinner, Warmson?" + +"Nobody but Mr. and Mrs. Dartie, sir." + +Again it seemed to Soames that the butler was looking curiously +at him. His composure gave way. + +"What are you looking at?" he said. "What's the matter with me, +eh?" + +The butler blushed, hung up the fur coat, murmured something that +sounded like: "Nothing, sir, I'm sure, sir," and stealthily +withdrew. + +Soames walked upstairs. Passing the drawing-room without a look, +he went straight up to his mother's and father's bedroom. + +James, standing sideways, the concave lines of his tall, lean +figure displayed to advantage in shirt-sleeves and evening +waistcoat, his head bent, the end of his white tie peeping askew +from underneath one white Dundreary whisker, his eyes peering +with intense concentration, his lips pouting, was hooking the top +hooks of his wife's bodice. Soames stopped; he felt half-choked, +whether because he had come upstairs too fast, or for some other +reason. He--he himself had never--never been asked to.... + +He heard his father's voice, as though there were a pin in his +mouth, saying: "Who's that? Who's there? What d'you want?" His +mother's: "Here, Felice, come and hook this; your master'll never +get done." + +He put his hand up to his throat, and said hoarsely: + +"It's I--Soames!" + +He noticed gratefully the affectionate surprise in Emily's: +"Well, my dear boy?" and James', as he dropped the hook: "What, +Soames! What's brought you up? Aren't you well?" + +He answered mechanically: "I'm all right," and looked at them, +and it seemed impossible to bring out his news. + +James, quick to take alarm, began: "You don't look well. I +expect you've taken a chill--it's liver, I shouldn't wonder. +Your mother'll give you...." + +But Emily broke in quietly: "Have you brought Irene?" + +Soames shook his head. + +"No," he stammered, "she--she's left me!" + +Emily deserted the mirror before which she was standing. Her +tall, full figure lost its majesty and became very human as she +came running over to Soames. + +"My dear boy! My dear boy!" + +She put her lips to his forehead, and stroked his hand. + +James, too, had turned full towards his son; his face looked +older. + +"Left you?" he said. "What d'you mean--left you? You never told +me she was going to leave you." + +Soames answered surlily: "How could I tell? What's to be done?" + +James began walking up and down; he looked strange and stork-like +without a coat. "What's to be done!" he muttered. "How should I +know what's to be done? What's the good of asking me? Nobody +tells me anything, and then they come and ask me what's to be +done; and I should like to know how I'm to tell them! Here's +your mother, there she stands; she doesn't say anything. What I +should say you've got to do is to follow her.." + +Soames smiled; his peculiar, supercilious smile had never before +looked pitiable. + +"I don't know where she's gone," he said. + +"Don't know where she's gone!" said James. "How d'you mean, +don't know where she's gone? Where d'you suppose she's gone? +She's gone after that young Bosinney, that's where she's gone. I +knew how it would be." + +Soames, in the long silence that followed, felt his mother +pressing his hand. And all that passed seemed to pass as though +his own power of thinking or doing had gone to sleep. + +His father's face, dusky red, twitching as if he were going to +cry, and words breaking out that seemed rent from him by some +spasm in his soul. + +"There'll be a scandal; I always said so." Then, no one saying +anything: "And there you stand, you and your mother!" + +And Emily's voice, calm, rather contemptuous: "Come, now, James! +Soames will do all that he can." + +And James, staring at the floor, a little brokenly: "Well, I +can't help you; I'm getting old. Don't you be in too great a +hurry, my boy." + +And his mother's voice again: "Soames will do all he can to get +her back. We won't talk of it. It'll all come right, I dare +say." + +And James: "Well, I can't see how it can come right. And if she +hasn't gone off with that young Bosinney, my advice to you is not +to listen to her, but to follow her and get her back." + +Once more Soames felt his mother stroking his hand, in token of +her approval, and as though repeating some form of sacred oath, +he muttered between his teeth: "I will!" + +All three went down to the drawing-room together. There, were +gathered the three girls and Dartie; had Irene been present, the +family circle would have been complete. + +James sank into his armchair, and except for a word of cold +greeting to Dartie, whom he both despised and dreaded, as a man +likely to be always in want of money, he said nothing till dinner +was announced. Soames, too, was silent; Emily alone, a woman of +cool courage, maintained a conversation with Winifred on trivial +subjects. She was never more composed in her manner and +conversation than that evening. + +A decision having been come to not to speak of Irene's flight, no +view was expressed by any other member of the family as to the +right course to be pursued; there can be little doubt, from the +general tone adopted in relation to events as they afterwards +turned out, that James's advice: "Don't you listen to her, +follow-her and get her back!" would, with here and there an +exception, have been regarded as sound, not only in Park Lane, +but amongst the Nicholases, the Rogers, and at Timothy's. Just +as it would surely have been endorsed by that wider body of +Forsytes all over London, who were merely excluded from judgment +by ignorance of the story. + +In spite then of Emily's efforts, the dinner was served by +Warmson and the footman almost in silence. Dartie was sulky, and +drank all he could get; the girls seldom talked to each other at +any time. James asked once where June was, and what she was +doing with herself in these days. No one could tell him. He +sank back into gloom. Only when Winifred recounted how little +Publius had given his bad penny to a beggar, did he brighten up. + +"Ah!" he said, "that's a clever little chap. I don't know +what'll become of him, if he goes on like this. An intelligent +little chap, I call him!" But it was only a flash. + +The courses succeeded one another solemnly, under the electric +light, which glared down onto the table, but barely reached the +principal ornament of the walls, a so-called 'Sea Piece by +Turner,' almost entirely composed of cordage and drowning men. + +Champagne was handed, and then a bottle of James' prehistoric +port, but as by the chill hand of some skeleton. + +At ten o'clock Soames left; twice in reply to questions, he had +said that Irene was not well; he felt he could no longer trust +himself. His mother kissed him with her large soft kiss, and he +pressed her hand, a flush of warmth in his cheeks. He walked +away in the cold wind, which whistled desolately round the +corners of the streets, under a sky of clear steel-blue, alive +with stars; he noticed neither their frosty greeting, nor the +crackle of the curled-up plane-leaves, nor the night-women +hurrying in their shabby furs, nor the pinched faces of vagabonds +at street corners. Winter was come! But Soames hastened home, +oblivious; his hands trembled as he took the late letters from +the gilt wire cage into which they had been thrust through the +slit in the door.' + +None from Irene! + +He went into the dining-room; the fire was bright there, his +chair drawn up to it, slippers ready, spirit case, and carven +cigarette box on the table; but after staring at it all for a +minute or two, he turned out the light and went upstairs. +There was a fire too in his dressing-room, but her room was +dark and cold. It was into this room that Soames went. + +He made a great illumination with candles, and for a long time +continued pacing up and down between the bed and the door. He +could not get used to the thought that she had really left him, +and as though still searching for some message, some reason, some +reading of all the mystery of his married life, he began opening +every recess and drawer. + +There were her dresses; he had always liked, indeed insisted, +that she should be well-dressed--she had taken very few; two or +three at most, and drawer after drawer; full of linen and silk +things, was untouched. + +Perhaps after all it was only a freak, and she had gone to the +seaside for a few days' change. If only that were so, and she +were really coming back, he would never again do as he had done +that fatal night before last, never again run that risk--though +it was her duty, her duty as a wife; though she did belong to +him--he would never again run that risk; she was evidently not +quite right in her head! + +He stooped over the drawer where she kept her jewels; it was not +locked, and came open as he pulled; the jewel box had the key in +it. This surprised him until he remembered that it was sure to +be empty. He opened it. + +It was far from empty. Divided, in little green velvet +compartments, were all the things he had given her, even her +watch, and stuck into the recess that contained--the watch was a +three-cornered note addressed 'Soames Forsyte,' in Irene's +handwriting: + +'I think I have taken nothing that you or your people have given +me.' And that was all. + +He looked at the clasps and bracelets of diamonds and pearls, at +the little flat gold watch with a great diamond set in sapphires, +at the chains and rings, each in its nest, and the tears rushed +up in his eyes and dropped upon them. + +Nothing that she could have done, nothing that she had done, +brought home to him like this the inner significance of her act. +For the moment, perhaps, he understood nearly all there was to +understand--understood that she loathed him, that she had loathed +him for years, that for all intents and purposes they were like +people living in different worlds, that there was no hope for +him, never had been; even, that she had suffered--that she was to +be pitied. + +In that moment of emotion he betrayed the Forsyte in him--forgot +himself, his interests, his property--was capable of almost +anything; was lifted into the pure ether of the selfless and +unpractical. + +Such moments pass quickly. + +And as though with the tears he had purged himself of weakness, +he got up, locked the box, and slowly, almost trembling, carried +it with him into the other room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JUNE'S VICTORY + + +June had waited for her chance, scanning the duller columns of +the journals, morning and evening with an assiduity which at +first puzzled old Jolyon; and when her chance came, she took it +with all the promptitude and resolute tenacity of her character. + +She will always remember best in her life that morning when at +last she saw amongst the reliable Cause List of the Times +newspaper, under the heading of Court XIII, Mr. Justice Bentham, +the case of Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +Like a gambler who stakes his last piece of money, she had +prepared to hazard her all upon this throw; it was not her nature +to contemplate defeat. How, unless with the instinct of a woman +in love, she knew that Bosinney's discomfiture in this action was +assured, cannot be told--on this assumption, however, she laid +her plans, as upon a certainty. + +Half past eleven found her at watch in the gallery of Court +XIII., and there she remained till the case of Forsyte v. +Bosinney was over. Bosinney's absence did not disquiet her; she +had felt instinctively that he would not defend himself. At the +end of the judgment she hastened down, and took a cab to his +rooms. + +She passed the open street-door and the offices on the three +lower floors without attracting notice; not till she reached the +top did her difficulties begin. + +Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind +whether she would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement +to let her in to await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently +outside the door, trusting that no one would, come up. She +decided on the latter course. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in freezing vigil on the landing, +before it occurred to her that Bosinney had been used to leave +the key of his rooms under the door-mat. She looked and found it +there. For some minutes she could not decide to make use of it; +at last she let herself in and left the door open that anyone who +came might see she was there on business. + +This was not the same June who had paid the trembling visit five +months ago; those months of suffering and restraint had made her +less sensitive; she had dwelt on this visit so long, with such +minuteness, that its terrors were discounted beforehand. She was +not there to fail this time, for if she failed no one could help +her. + +Like some mother beast on the watch over her young, her little +quick figure never stood still in that room, but wandered from +wall to wall, from window to door, fingering now one thing, now +another. There was dust everywhere, the room could not have been +cleaned for weeks, and June, quick to catch at anything that +should buoy up her hope, saw in it a sign that he had been +obliged, for economy's sake, to give up his servant. + +She looked into the bedroom; the bed was roughly made, as though +by the hand of man. Listening intently, she darted in, and +peered into his cupboards. A few shirts and collars, a pair of +muddy boots--the room was bare even of garments. + +She stole back to the sitting-room, and now she noticed the +absence of all the little things he had set store by. The clock +that had been his mother's, the field-glasses that had hung over +the sofa; two really valuable old prints of Harrow, where his +father had been at school, and last, not least, the piece of +Japanese pottery she herself had given him. All were gone; and +in spite of the rage roused within her championing soul at the +thought that the world should treat him thus, their disappearance +augured happily for the success of her plan. + +It was while looking at the spot where the piece of Japanese +pottery had stood that she felt a strange certainty of being +watched, and, turning, saw Irene in the open doorway. + +The two stood gazing at each other for a minute in silence; then +June walked forward and held out her hand. Irene did not take +it. + +When her hand was refused, June put it behind her. Her eyes grew +steady with anger; she waited for Irene to speak; and thus +waiting, took in, with who-knows-what rage of jealousy, +suspicion, and curiosity, every detail of her friend's face and +dress and figure. + +Irene was clothed in her long grey fur; the travelling cap on her +head left a wave of gold hair visible above her forehead. The +soft fullness of the coat made her face as small as a child's. + +Unlike June's cheeks, her cheeks had no colour in them, but were +ivory white and pinched as if with cold. Dark circles lay round +her eyes. In one hand she held a bunch of violets. + +She looked back at June, no smile on her lips; and with those +great dark eyes fastened on her, the girl, for all her startled +anger, felt something of the old spell. + +She spoke first, after all. + +"What have you come for?" But the feeling that she herself was +being asked the same question, made her add: "This horrible case. +I came to tell him--he has lost it." + +Irene did not speak, her eyes never moved from June's face, and +the girl cried: + +"Don't stand there as if you were made of stone!" + +Irene laughed: "I wish to God I were!" + +But June turned away: "Stop!" she cried, "don't tell me! I don't +want to hear! I don't want to hear what you've come for. I +don't want to hear!" And like some uneasy spirit, she began +swiftly walking to and fro. Suddenly she broke out: + +"I was here first. We can't both stay here together!" + +On Irene's face a smile wandered up, and died out like a flicker +of firelight. She did not move. And then it was that June +perceived under the softness arid immobility of this figure +something desperate and resolved; something not to be turned +away, something dangerous. She tore off her hat, and, putting +both hands to her brow, pressed back the bronze mass of her hair. + +"You have no right here!" she cried defiantly. + +Irene answered: "I have no right anywhere! + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have left Soames. You always wanted me to!" + +June put her hands over her ears. + +"Don't! I don't want to hear anything--I don't want to know +anything. It's impossible to fight with you! What makes you +stand like that? Why don't you go?" + +Irene's lips moved; she seemed to be saying: "Where should I go?" + +June turned to the window. She could see the face of a clock +down in the street. It was nearly four. At any moment he might +come! She looked back across her shoulder, and her face was +distorted with anger. + +But Irene had not moved; in her gloved hands she ceaselessly +turned and twisted the little bunch of violets. + +The tears of rage and disappointment rolled down June's cheeks. + +"How could you come?" she said. "You have been a false friend to +me!" + +Again Irene laughed. June saw that she had played a wrong card, +and broke down. + +"Why have you come?" she sobbed. "You've ruined my life, and now +you want to ruin his!" + +Irene's mouth quivered; her eyes met June's with a look so +mournful that the girl cried out in the midst of her sobbing, +"No, no!" + +But Irene's head bent till it touched her breast. She turned, +and went quickly out, hiding her lips with the little bunch of +violets. + +June ran to the door. She heard the footsteps going down and +down. She called out: "Come back, Irene! Come back!" + +The footsteps died away.... + +Bewildered and torn, the girl stood at the top of the stairs. +Why had Irene gone, leaving her mistress of the field? What did +it mean? Had she really given him up to her? Or had she...? +And she was the prey of a gnawing uncertainty.... Bosinney did +not come.... + +About six o'clock that afternoon old Jolyon returned from +Wistaria Avenue, where now almost every day he spent some hours, +and asked if his grand-daughter were upstairs. On being told +that she had just come in, he sent up to her room to request her +to come down and speak to him. + +He had made up his mind to tell her that he was reconciled with +her father. In future bygones must be bygones. He would no +longer live alone, or practically alone, in this great house; he +was going to give it up, and take one in the country for his son, +where they could all go and live together. If June did not like +this, she could have an allowance and live by herself. It +wouldn't make much difference to her, for it was a long time +since she had shown him any affection. + +But when June came down, her face was pinched and piteous; there +was a strained, pathetic look in her eyes. She snuggled up in +her old attitude on the arm of his chair, and what he said +compared but poorly with the clear, authoritative, injured +statement he had thought out with much care. His heart felt +sore, as the great heart of a mother-bird feels sore when its +youngling flies and bruises its wing. His words halted, as +though he were apologizing for having at last deviated from the +path of virtue, and succumbed, in defiance of sounder principles, +to his more natural instincts. + +He seemed nervous lest, in thus announcing his intentions, he +should be setting his granddaughter a bad example; and now that +he came to the point, his way of putting the suggestion that, if +she didn't like it, she could live by herself and lump it, was +delicate in the extreme.' + +"And if, by any chance, my darling," he said, "you found you +didn't get on--with them, why, I could make that all right. You +could have what you liked. We could find a little flat in London +where you could set up, and I could be running to continually. +But the children," he added, "are dear little things!" + +Then, in the midst of this grave, rather transparent, explanation +of changed policy, his eyes twinkled. "This'll astonish +Timothy's weak nerves. That precious young thing will have +something to say about this, or I'm a Dutchman!" + +June had not yet spoken. Perched thus on the arm of his chair, +with her head above him, her face was invisible. But presently +he felt her warm cheek against his own, and knew that, at all +events, there was nothing very alarming in her attitude towards +his news. He began to take courage. + +"You'll like your father," he said--"an amiable chap. Never was +much push about him, but easy to get on with. You'll find him +artistic and all that." + +And old Jolyon bethought him of the dozen or so water-colour +drawings all carefully locked up in his bedroom; for now that his +son was going to become a man of property he did not think them +quite such poor things as heretofore. + +"As to your--your stepmother," he said, using the word with some +little difficulty, "I call her a refined woman--a bit of a Mrs. +Gummidge, I shouldn't wonder--but very fond of Jo. And the +children," he repeated--indeed, this sentence ran like music +through all his solemn self-justification--"are sweet little +things!" + +If June had known, those words but reincarnated that tender love +for little children, for the young and weak, which in the past +had made him desert his son for her tiny self, and now, as the +cycle rolled, was taking him from her. + +But he began to get alarmed at her silence, and asked +impatiently: "Well, what do you say?" + +June slid down to his knee, and she in her turn began her tale. +She thought it would all go splendidly; she did not see any +difficulty, and she did not care a bit what people thought. + +Old Jolyon wriggled. H'm! then people would think! He had +thought that after all these years perhaps they wouldn't! Well, +he couldn't help it! Nevertheless, he could not approve of his +granddaughter's way of putting it--she ought to mind what people +thought! + +Yet he said nothing. His feelings were too mixed, too +inconsistent for expression. + +No--went on June he did not care; what business was it of theirs? +There was only one thing--and with her cheek pressing against his +knee, old Jolyon knew at once that this something was no trifle: +As he was going to buy a house in the country, would he not--to +please her--buy that splendid house of Soames' at Robin Hill? It +was finished, it was perfectly beautiful, and no one would live +in it now. They would all be so happy there. + +Old Jolyon was on the alert at once. Wasn't the 'man of +property' going to live in his new house, then? He never alluded +to Soames now but under this title. + +"No"--June said--"he was not; she knew that he was not!" + +How did she know? + +She could not tell him, but she knew. She knew nearly for +certain! It was most unlikely; circumstances had changed! +Irene's words still rang in her head: "I have left Soames. +Where should I go?" + +But she kept silence about that. + +If her grandfather would only buy it and settle that wretched +claim that ought never to have been made on Phil! It would be +the very best thing for everybody, and everything--everything +might come straight + +And June put her lips to his forehead, and pressed them close. + +But old Jolyon freed himself from her caress, his face wore the +judicial look which came upon it when he dealt with affairs. He +asked: What did she mean? There was something behind all this-- +had she been seeing Bosinney? + +June answered: "No; but I have been to his rooms." + +"Been to his rooms? Who took you there?" + +June faced him steadily. "I went alone. He has lost that case. +I don't care whether it was right or wrong. I want to help him; +and I will!" + +Old Jolyon asked again: "Have you seen him?" His glance seemed to +pierce right through the girl's eyes into her soul. + +Again June answered: "No; he was not there. I waited, but he did +not come." + +Old Jolyon made a movement of relief. She had risen and looked +down at him; so slight, and light, and young, but so fixed, and +so determined; and disturbed, vexed, as he was, he could not +frown away that fixed look. The feeling of being beaten, of the +reins having slipped, of being old and tired, mastered him. + +"Ah!" he said at last, "you'll get yourself into a mess one of +these days, I can see. You want your own way in everything." + +Visited by one of his strange bursts of philosophy, he added: +"Like that you were born; and like that you'll stay until you +die!" + +And he, who in his dealings with men of business, with Boards, +with Forsytes of all descriptions, with such as were not +Forsytes, had always had his own way, looked at his indomitable +grandchild sadly--for he felt in her that quality which above all +others he unconsciously admired. + +"Do you know what they say is going on?" he said slowly. + +June crimsoned. + +"Yes--no! I know--and I don't know--I don't care!" and she +stamped her foot. + +"I believe," said old Jolyon, dropping his eyes, "that you'd have +him if he were dead!" + +There was a long silence before he spoke again. + +"But as to buying this house--you don't know what you're talking +about!" + +June said that she did. She knew that he could get it if he +wanted. He would only have to give what it cost. + +"What it cost! You know nothing about it. I won't go to Soames- +--I'll have nothing more to do with that young man." + +"But you needn't; you can go to Uncle James. If you can't buy +the house, will you pay his lawsuit claim? I know he is terribly +hard up--I've seen it. You can stop it out of my money!" + +A twinkle came into old Jolyon's eyes. + +"Stop it out of your money! A pretty way. And what will you do, +pray, without your money?" + +But secretly, the idea of wresting the house from James and his +son had begun to take hold of him. He had heard on Forsyte +'Change much comment, much rather doubtful praise of this house. +It was 'too artistic,' but a fine place. To take from the 'man +of property' that on which he had set his heart, would be a +crowning triumph over James, practical proof that he was going to +make a man of property of Jo, to put him back in his proper +position, and there to keep him secure. Justice once for all on +those who had chosen to regard his son as a poor, penniless +outcast. + +He would see, he would see! It might be out of the question; he +was not going to pay a fancy price, but if it could be done, why, +perhaps he would do it! + +And still more secretly he knew that he could not refuse her. + +But he did not commit himself. He would think it over--he said +to June. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BOSINNEY'S DEPARTURE + + +Old Jolyon was not given to hasty decisions; it is probable that +he would have continued to think over the purchase of the house +at Robin Hill, had not June's face told him that he would have no +peace until he acted. + +At breakfast next morning she asked him what time she should +order the carriage. + +"Carriage!" he said, with some appearance of innocence; "what +for? I'm not going out!" + +She answered: "If you don't go early, you won't catch Uncle James +before he goes into the City." + +"James! what about your Uncle James?" + +"The house," she replied, in such a voice that he no longer +pretended ignorance. + +"I've not made up my mind," he said. + +"You must! You must! Oh! Gran--think of me!" + +Old Jolyon grumbled out: "Think of you--I'm always thinking of +you, but you don't think of yourself; you don't think what you're +letting yourself in for. Well, order the carriage at ten!" + +At a quarter past he was placing his umbrella in the stand at +Park Lane--he did not choose to relinquish his hat and coat; +telling Warmson that he wanted to see his master, he went, +without being announced, into the study, and sat down. + +James was still in the dining-room talking to Soames, who had +come round again before breakfast. On hearing who his visitor +was, he muttered nervously: "Now, what's be want, I wonder?" + +He then got up. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "don't you go doing anything in a +hurry. The first thing is to find out where she is--I should go +to Stainer's about it; they're the best men, if they can't find +her, nobody can." And suddenly moved to strange softness, he +muttered to himself, "Poor little thing, I can't tell what she +was thinking about!" and went out blowing his nose. + +Old Jolyon did not rise on seeing his brother, but held out his +hand, and exchanged with him the clasp of a Forsyte. + +James took another chair by the table, and leaned his head on his +hand. + +"Well," he said, "how are you? We don't see much of you +nowadays!" + +Old Jolyon paid no attention to the remark. + +"How's Emily?" he asked; and waiting for no reply, went on +"I've come to see you about this affair of young Bosinney's. I'm +told that new house of his is a white elephant." + +"I don't know anything about a white elephant," said James, "I +know he's lost his case, and I should say he'll go bankrupt." + +Old Jolyon was not slow to seize the opportunity this gave him. + +"I shouldn't wonder a bit!" he agreed; "and if he goes bankrupt, +the 'man of property'--that is, Soames'll be out of pocket. Now, +what I was thinking was this: If he's not going to live there...." + +Seeing both surprise and suspicion in James' eye, he quickly went +on: "I don't want to know anything; I suppose Irene's put her +foot down--it's not material to me. But I'm thinking of a house +in the country myself, not too far from London, and if it suited +me I don't say that I mightn't look at it, at a price." + +James listened to this statement with a strange mixture of doubt, +suspicion, and relief, merging into a dread of something behind, +and tinged with the remains of his old undoubted reliance upon +his elder brother's good faith and judgment. There was anxiety, +too, as to what old Jolyon could have heard and how he had heard +it; and a sort of hopefulness arising from the thought that if +June's connection with Bosinney were completely at an end, her +grandfather would hardly seem anxious to help the young fellow. +Altogether he was puzzled; as he did not like either to show +this, or to commit himself in any way, he said: + +"They tell me you're altering your Will in favour of your son." + +He had not been told this; he had merely added the fact of having +seen old Jolyon with his son and grandchildren to the fact that +he had taken his Will away from Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte. +The shot went home. + +"Who told you that?" asked old Jolyon. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said James; "I can't remember names--I +know somebody told me Soames spent a lot of money on this house; +he's not likely to part with it except at a good price." + +"Well," said old Jolyon, "if, he thinks I'm going to pay a fancy +price, he's mistaken. I've not got the money to throw away that +he seems to have. Let him try and sell it at a forced sale, and +see what he'll get. It's not every man's house, I hear!" + +James, who was secretly also of this opinion, answered: "It's a +gentleman's house. Soames is here now if you'd like to see him." + +"No," said old Jolyon, "I haven't got as far as that; and I'm not +likely to, I can see that very well if I'm met in this manner!" + +James was a little cowed; when it came to the actual figures of a +commercial transaction he was sure of himself, for then he was +dealing with facts, not with men; but preliminary negotiations +such as these made him nervous--he never knew quite how far he +could go. + +"Well," he said, "I know nothing about it. Soames, he tells me +nothing; I should think he'd entertain it--it's a question of +price." + +"Oh!" said old Jolyon, "don't let him make a favour of it!" He +placed his hat on his head in dudgeon. + +The door was opened and Soames came in. + +"There's a policeman out here," he said with his half smile, "for +Uncle Jolyon." + +Old Jolyon looked at him angrily, and James said: "A policeman? +I don't know anything about a policeman. But I suppose you know +something about him," he added to old Jolyon with a look of +suspicion: "I suppose you'd better see him!" + +In the hall an Inspector of Police stood stolidly regarding with +heavy-lidded pale-blue eyes the fine old English furniture picked +up by James at the famous Mavrojano sale in Portman Square. +"You'll find my brother in there," said James. + +The Inspector raised his fingers respectfully to his peaked cap, +and entered the study. + +James saw him go in with a strange sensation. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "I suppose we must wait and see what +he wants. Your uncle's been here about the house!" + +He returned with Soames into the dining-room, but could not rest. + +"Now what does he want?" he murmured again. + +"Who?" replied Soames: "the Inspector? They sent him round from +Stanhope Gate, that's all I know. That 'nonconformist' of Uncle +Jolyon's has been pilfering, I shouldn't wonder!" + +But in spite of his calmness, he too was ill at ease. + +At the end of ten minutes old Jolyon came in. He walked up to +the table, and stood there perfectly silent pulling at his long +white moustaches. James gazed up at him with opening mouth; he +had never seen his brother look like this. + +Old Jolyon raised his hand, and said slowly: + +"Young Bosinney has been run over in the fog and killed." + +Then standing above his brother and his nephew, and looking down +at him with his deep eyes: + +"There's--some--talk--of--suicide," he said. + +James' jaw dropped. "Suicide! What should he do that for?" + +Old Jolyon answered sternly: "God knows, if you and your son +don't!" + +But James did not reply. + +For all men of great age, even for all Forsytes, life has had +bitter experiences. The passer-by, who sees them wrapped in +cloaks of custom, wealth, and comfort, would never suspect that +such black shadows had fallen on their roads. To every man of +great age--to Sir Walter Bentham himself--the idea of suicide has +once at least been present in the ante-room of his soul; on the +threshold, waiting to enter, held out from the inmost chamber by +some chance reality, some vague fear, some painful hope. To +Forsytes that final renunciation of property is hard. Oh! it is +hard! Seldom--perhaps never--can they achieve, it; and yet, how +near have they not sometimes been! + +So even with James! Then in the medley of his thoughts, he broke +out: "Why I saw it in the paper yesterday: 'Run over in the fog!' +They didn't know his name!" He turned from one face to the other +in his confusion of soul; but instinctively all the time he was +rejecting that rumour of suicide. He dared not entertain this +thought, so against his interest, against the interest of his +son, of every Forsyte. He strove against it; and as his nature +ever unconsciously rejected that which it could not with safety +accept, so gradually he overcame this fear. It was an accident! +It must have been! + +Old Jolyon broke in on his reverie. + +"Death was instantaneous. He lay all day yesterday at the +hospital. There was nothing to tell them who he was. I am going +there now; you and your son had better come too." + +No one opposing this command he led the way from the room. + +The day was still and clear and bright, and driving over to Park +Lane from Stanhope Gate, old Jolyon had had the carriage open. +Sitting back on the padded cushions, finishing his cigar, he had +noticed with pleasure the keen crispness of the air, the bustle +of the cabs and people; the strange, almost Parisian, alacrity +that the first fine day will bring into London streets after a +spell of fog or rain. And he had felt so happy; he had not felt +like it for months. His confession to June was off his mind; he +had the prospect of his son's, above all, of his grandchildren's +company in the future--(he had appointed to meet young Jolyon at +the Hotch Potch that very manning to--discuss it again); and +there was the pleasurable excitement of a coming encounter, a +coming victory, over James and the 'man of property' in the +matter of the house. + +He had the carriage closed now; he had no heart to look on +gaiety; nor was it right that Forsytes should be seen driving +with an Inspector of Police. + +In that carriage the Inspector spoke again of the death: + +"It was not so very thick--Just there. The driver says the +gentleman must have had time to see what he was about, he seemed +to walk right into it. It appears that he was very hard up, we +found several pawn tickets at his rooms, his account at the bank +is overdrawn, and there's this case in to-day's papers;" his cold +blue eyes travelled from one to another of the three Forsytes in +the carriage. + +Old Jolyon watching from his corner saw his brother's face +change, and the brooding, worried, look deepen on it. At the +Inspector's words, indeed, all James' doubts and fears revived. +Hard-up--pawn-tickets--an overdrawn account! These words that +had all his life been a far-off nightmare to him, seemed to make +uncannily real that suspicion of suicide which must on no account +be entertained. He sought his son's eye; but lynx-eyed, +taciturn, immovable, Soames gave no answering look. And to old +Jolyon watching, divining the league of mutual defence between +them, there came an overmastering desire to have his own son at +his side, as though this visit to the dead man's body was a +battle in which otherwise he must single-handed meet those two. +And the thought of how to keep June's name out of the business +kept whirring in his brain. James had his son to support him! +Why should he not send for Jo? + +Taking out his card-case, he pencilled the following message: + +'Come round at once. I've sent the carriage for you.' + +On getting out he gave this card to his coachman, telling him to +drive--as fast as possible to the Hotch Potch Club, and if Mr. +Jolyon Forsyte were there to give him the card and bring him at +once. If not there yet, he was to wait till he came. + +He followed the others slowly up the steps, leaning on his +umbrella, and stood a moment to get his breath. The Inspector +said: "This is the mortuary, sir. But take your time." + +In the bare, white-walled room, empty of all but a streak of +sunshine smeared along the dustless floor, lay a form covered by +a sheet. With a huge steady hand the Inspector took the hem and +turned it back. A sightless face gazed up at them, and on either +side of that sightless defiant face the three Forsytes gazed +down; in each one of them the secret emotions, fears, and pity of +his own nature rose and fell like the rising, falling waves of +life, whose wish those white walls barred out now for ever from +Bosinney. And in each one of them the trend of his nature, the +odd essential spring, which moved him in fashions minutely, +unalterably different from those of every other human being, +forced him to a different attitude of thought. Far from the +others, yet inscrutably close, each stood thus, alone with death, +silent, his eyes lowered. + +The Inspector asked softly: + +"You identify the gentleman, sir?" + +Old Jolyon raised his head and nodded. He looked at his brother +opposite, at that long lean figure brooding over the dead man, +with face dusky red, and strained grey eyes; and at the figure of +Soames white and still by his father's side. And all that he had +felt against those two was gone like smoke in the long white +presence of Death. Whence comes it, how comes it--Death? Sudden +reverse of all that goes before; blind setting forth on a path +that leads to where? Dark quenching of the fire! The heavy, +brutal crushing--out that all men must go through, keeping their +eyes clear and brave unto the end! Small and of no import, +insects though they are! And across old Jolyon's face there +flitted a gleam, for Soames, murmuring to the Inspector, crept +noiselessly away. + +Then suddenly James raised his eyes. There was a queer appeal in +that suspicious troubled look: "I know I'm no match for you," it +seemed to say. And, hunting for handkerchief he wiped his brow; +then, bending sorrowful and lank over the dead man, he too turned +and hurried out. + +Old Jolyon stood, still as death, his eyes fixed on the body. +Who shall tell of what he was thinking? Of himself, when his +hair was brown like the hair of that young fellow dead before +him? Of himself, with his battle just beginning, the long, long +battle he had loved; the battle that was over for this young man +almost before it had begun? Of his grand-daughter, with her +broken hopes? Of that other woman? Of the strangeness, and the +pity of it? And the irony, inscrutable, and bitter of that end? +Justice! There was no justice for men, for they were ever in the +dark! + +Or perhaps in his philosophy he thought: Better to be out of, it +all! Better to have done with it, like this poor youth.... + +Some one touched him on the arm. + +A tear started up and wetted his eyelash. "Well," he said, "I'm +no good here. I'd better be going. You'll come to me as soon as +you can, Jo," and with his head bowed he went away. + +It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, +round whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes +breathless, and prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly. + +The forces underlying every tragedy--forces that take no denial, +working through cross currents to their ironical end, had met and +fused with a thunder-clap, flung out the victim, and flattened to +the ground all those that stood around. + +Or so at all events young Jolyon seemed to see them, lying around +Bosinney's body. + +He asked the Inspector to tell him what had happened, and the +latter, like a man who does not every day get such a chance, +again detailed such facts as were known. + +"There's more here, sir, however," he said, "than meets the eye. +I don't believe in suicide, nor in pure accident, myself. It's +more likely I think that he was suffering under great stress +of mind, and took no notice of things about him. Perhaps you can +throw some light on these." + +He took from his pocket a little packet and laid it on the table. +Carefully undoing it, he revealed a lady's handkerchief, pinned +through the folds with a pin of discoloured Venetian gold, the +stone of which had fallen from the socket. A scent of dried +violets rose to young Jolyon's nostrils. + +"Found in his breast pocket," said the Inspector; "the name has +been cut away!" + +Young Jolyon with difficulty answered: "I'm afraid I cannot help +you!" But vividly there rose before him the face he had seen +light up, so tremulous and glad, at Bosinney's coming! Of her he +thought more than of his own daughter, more than of them all--of +her with the dark, soft glance, the delicate passive face, +waiting for the dead man, waiting even at that moment, perhaps, +still and patient in the sunlight. + +He walked sorrowfully away from the hospital towards his father's +house, reflecting that this death would break up the Forsyte +family. The stroke had indeed slipped past their defences into +the very wood of their tree. They might flourish to all +appearance as before, preserving a brave show before the eyes of +London, but the trunk was dead, withered by the same flash that +had stricken down Bosinney. And now the saplings would take its +place, each one a new custodian of the sense of property. + +Good forest of Forsytes! thought young Jolyon--soundest timber +of our land! + +Concerning the cause of this death--his family would doubtless +reject with vigour the suspicion of suicide, which was so +compromising! They would take it as an accident, a stroke of +fate. In their hearts they would even feel it an intervention of +Providence, a retribution--had not Bosinney endangered their two +most priceless possessions, the pocket and the hearth? And they +would talk of 'that unfortunate accident of young Bosinney's,' +but perhaps they would not talk--silence might be better! + +As for himself, he regarded the bus-driver's account of the +accident as of very little value. For no one so madly in love +committed suicide for want of money; nor was Bosinney the sort of +fellow to set much store by a financial crisis. And so he too +rejected this theory of suicide, the dead man's face rose too +clearly before him. Gone in the heyday of his summer--and to +believe thus that an accident had cut Bosinney off in the full +sweep of his passion was more than ever pitiful to young Jolyon. + +Then came a vision of Soames' home as it now was, and must be +hereafter. The streak of lightning had flashed its clear uncanny +gleam on bare bones with grinning spaces between, the disguising +flesh was gone.... + +In the dining-room at Stanhope Gate old Jolyon was sitting alone +when his son came in. He looked very wan in his great armchair. +And his eyes travelling round the walls with their pictures of +still life, and the masterpiece 'Dutch fishing-boats at Sunset' +seemed as though passing their gaze over his life with its hopes, +its gains, its achievements. + +"Ah! Jo!" he said, "is that you? I've told poor little June. +But that's not all of it. Are you going to Soames'? She's +brought it on herself, I suppose; but somehow I can't bear to +think of her, shut up there--and all alone." And holding up his +thin, veined hand, he clenched it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IRENE'S RETURN + + +After leaving James and old Jolyon in the mortuary of the +hospital, Soames hurried aimlessly along the streets. + +The tragic event of Bosinney's death altered the complexion of +everything. There was no longer the same feeling that to lose a +minute would be fatal, nor would he now risk communicating the +fact of his wife's flight to anyone till the inquest was over. + +That morning he had risen early, before the postman came, had +taken the first-post letters from the box himself, and, though +there had been none from Irene, he had made an opportunity of +telling Bilson that her mistress was at the sea; he would +probably, he said, be going down himself from Saturday to Monday. +This had given him time to breathe, time to leave no stone +unturned to find her. + +But now, cut off from taking steps by Bosinney's death--that +strange death, to think of which was like putting a hot iron to +his heart, like lifting a great weight from it--he did not know +how to pass his day; and he wandered here and there through the +streets, looking at every face he met, devoured by a hundred +anxieties. + +And as he wandered, he thought of him who had finished his +wandering, his prowling, and would never haunt his house again. + +Already in the afternoon he passed posters announcing the +identity of the dead man, and bought the papers to see what they +said. He would stop their mouths if he could, and he went into +the City, and was closeted with Boulter for a long time. + +On his way home, passing the steps of Jobson's about half past +four, he met George Forsyte, who held out an evening paper to +Soames, saying: + +"Here! Have you seen this about the poor Buccaneer?" + +Soames answered stonily: "Yes." + +George stared at him. He had never liked Soames; he now held him +responsible for Bosinney's death. Soames had done for him--done +for him by that act of property that had sent the Buccaneer to +run amok that fatal afternoon. + +'The poor fellow,' he was thinking, 'was so cracked with +jealousy, so cracked for his vengeance, that he heard nothing of +the omnibus in that infernal fog.' + +Soames had done for him! And this judgment was in George's eyes. + +"They talk of suicide here," he said at last. "That cat won't +jump." + +Soames shook his head. "An accident," he muttered. + +Clenching his fist on the paper, George crammed it into his +pocket. He could not resist a parting shot. + +"H'mm! All flourishing at home? Any little Soameses yet?" + +With a face as white as the steps of Jobson's, and a lip raised +as if snarling, Soames brushed past him and was gone.... + +On reaching home, and entering the little lighted hall with his +latchkey, the first thing that caught his eye was his wife's +gold-mounted umbrella lying on the rug chest. Flinging off his +fur coat, he hurried to the drawing-room. + +The curtains were drawn for the night, a bright fire of +cedar-logs burned in the grate, and by its light he saw Irene +sitting in her usual corner on the sofa. He shut the door +softly, and went towards her. She did not move, and did not seem +to see him. + +"So you've come back?" he said. "Why are you sitting here in the +dark?" + +Then he caught sight of her face, so white and motionless that it +seemed as though the blood must have stopped flowing in her +veins; and her eyes, that looked enormous, like the great, wide, +startled brown eyes of an owl. + +Huddled in her grey fur against the sofa cushions, she had a +strange resemblance to a captive owl, bunched fir its soft +feathers against the wires of a cage. The supple erectness of +her figure was gone, as though she had been broken by cruel +exercise; as though there were no longer any reason for being +beautiful, and supple, and erect. + +"So you've come back," he repeated. + +She never looked up, and never spoke, the firelight playing over +her motionless figure. + +Suddenly she tried to rise, but he prevented her; it was then +that he understood. + +She had come back like an animal wounded to death, not knowing +where to turn, not knowing what she was doing. The sight of her +figure, huddled in the fur, was enough. + +He knew then for certain that Bosinney had been her lover; knew +that she had seen the report of his death--perhaps, like himself, +had bought a paper at the draughty corner of a street, and read +it. + +She had come back then of her own accord, to the cage she had +pined to be free of--and taking in all the tremendous +significance of this, he longed to cry: "Take your hated body, +that I love, out of my house! Take away that pitiful white face, +so cruel and soft--before I crush it. Get out of my sight; never +let me see you again!" + +And, at those unspoken words, he seemed to see her rise and move +away, like a woman in a terrible dream, from which she was +fighting to awake--rise and go out into the dark and cold, without +a thought of him, without so much as the knowledge of his +presence. + +Then he cried, contradicting what he had not yet spoken, "No; +stay there!" And turning away from her, he sat down in his +accustomed chair on the other side of the hearth. + +They sat in silence. + +And Soames thought: 'Why is all this? Why should I suffer so? +What have I done? It is not my fault!' + +Again he looked at her, huddled like a bird that is shot and +dying, whose poor breast you see panting as the air is taken from +it, whose poor eyes look at you who have shot it, with a slow, +soft, unseeing look, taking farewell of all that is good--of the +sun, and the air, and its mate. + +So they sat, by the firelight, in the silence, one on each side +of the hearth. + +And the fume of the burning cedar logs, that he loved so well, +seemed to grip Soames by the throat till he could bear it no +longer. And going out into the hall he flung the door wide, to +gulp down the cold air that came in; then without hat or overcoat +went out into the Square. + +Along the garden rails a half-starved cat came rubbing her way +towards him, and Soames thought: 'Suffering! when will it cease, +my suffering?' + +At a front door across the way was a man of his acquaintance +named Rutter, scraping his boots, with an air of 'I am master +here.' And Soames walked on. + +From far in the clear air the bells of the church where he and +Irene had been married were pealing in 'practice' for the advent +of Christ, the chimes ringing out above the sound of traffic. He +felt a craving for strong drink, to lull him to indifference, or +rouse him to fury. If only he could burst out of himself, out of +this web that for the first time in his life he felt around him. +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Divorce her--turn her +out! She has forgotten you. Forget her!' + +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Let her go--she has +suffered enough!' + +If only he could surrender to the desire: 'Make a slave of her-- +she is in your power!' + +If only even he could surrender to the sudden vision: 'What does +it all matter?' Forget himself for a minute, forget that it +mattered what he did, forget that whatever he did he must +sacrifice something. + +If only he could act on an impulse! + +He could forget nothing; surrender to no thought, vision, or +desire; it was all too serious; too close around him, an +unbreakable cage. + +On the far side of the Square newspaper boys were calling their +evening wares, and the ghoulish cries mingled and jangled with +the sound of those church bells. + +Soames covered his ears. The thought flashed across him that but +for a chance, he himself, and not Bosinney, might be lying dead, +and she, instead of crouching there like a shot bird with those +dying eyes.... + +Something soft touched his legs, the cat was rubbing herself +against them. And a sob that shook him from head to foot burst +from Soames' chest. Then all was still again in the dark, where +the houses seemed to stare at him, each with a master and +mistress of its own, and a secret story of happiness or sorrow. + +And suddenly he saw that his own door was open, and black against +the light from the hall a man standing with his back turned. +Something slid too in his breast, and he stole up close behind. + +He could see his own fur coat flung across the carved oak chair; +the Persian rugs; the silver bowls, the rows of porcelain plates +arranged along the walls, and this unknown man who was standing +there. + +And sharply he asked: "What is it you want, sir?" + +The visitor turned. It was young Jolyon. + +"The door was open," he said. "Might I see your wife for a +minute, I have a message for her?" + +Soames gave him a strange, sidelong stare. + +"My wife can see no one," he muttered doggedly. + +Young Jolyon answered gently: "I shouldn't keep her a minute." + +Soames brushed by him and barred the way. + +"She can see no one," he said again. + +Young Jolyon's glance shot past him into the hall, and Soames +turned. There in the drawing-room doorway stood Irene, her eyes +were wild and eager, her lips were parted, her hands out- +stretched. In the sight of both men that light vanished from +her face; her hands dropped to her sides; she stood like stone. + +Soames spun round, and met his visitor's eyes, and at the look he +saw in them, a sound like a snarl escaped him. He drew his lips +back in the ghost of a smile. + +"This is my house," he said; "I manage my own affairs. I've told +you once--I tell you again; we are not at home." + +And in young Jolyon's face he slammed the door. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext Man of Property, by John Galsworthy + diff --git a/old/mnprp11.zip b/old/mnprp11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f23095f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mnprp11.zip diff --git a/old/mnprp12.txt b/old/mnprp12.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9db6f8b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mnprp12.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14623 @@ +Project Gutenberg EBook of Man of Property, by John Galsworthy +#4 in our series by John Galsworthy +#1 in our series of The Forsyte Saga + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + + +Title: Man of Property, by John Galsworthy + +Author: John Galsworthy + +Release Date: March, 2001 [Etext #2559] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[Most recently updated: April 6, 2003] + +Edition: 12 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAN OF PROPERT, GALSWORTHY *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net] +Extensive proofing for this edition was done by Fredrik Hausmann + + + + +[The spelling conforms to the original: "s's" instead of our "z's"; +and "c's" where we would have "s's"; and "...our" as in colour +and flavour; many interesting double consonants; etc.] + + + + + +FORSYTE SAGA + +I. THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +By John Galsworthy + + + +VOLUME I + + + +TO MY WIFE: + + I DEDICATE THE FORSYTE SAGA IN ITS ENTIRETY, + BELIEVING IT TO BE OF ALL MY WORKS THE LEAST + UNWORTHY OF ONE WITHOUT WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT, + SYMPATHY AND CRITICISM I COULD NEVER HAVE + BECOME EVEN SUCH A WRITER AS I AM. + + + + +PREFACE: + +"The Forsyte Saga" was the title originally destined for that +part of it which is called "The Man of Property"; and to adopt it +for the collected chronicles of the Forsyte family has indulged +the Forsytean tenacity that is in all of us. The word Saga might +be objected to on the ground that it connotes the heroic and that +there is little heroism in these pages. But it is used with a +suitable irony; and, after all, this long tale, though it may +deal with folk in frock coats, furbelows, and a gilt-edged +period, is not devoid of the essential beat of conflict. +Discounting for the gigantic stature and blood-thirstiness of old +days, as they have come down to us in fairy-tale and legend, the +folk of the old Sagas were Forsytes, assuredly, in their +possessive instincts, and as little proof against the inroads of +beauty and passion as Swithin, Soames, or even Young Jolyon. And +if heroic figures, in days that never were, seem to startle out +from their surroundings in fashion unbecoming to a Forsyte of the +Victorian era, we may be sure that tribal instinct was even then +the prime force, and that "family" and the sense of home and +property counted as they do to this day, for all the recent +efforts to "talk them out." + +So many people have written and claimed that their families were +the originals of the Forsytes that one has been almost encouraged +to believe in the typicality of an imagined species. Manners +change and modes evolve, and "Timothy's on the Bayswater Road" +becomes a nest of the unbelievable in all except essentials; we +shall not look upon its like again, nor perhaps on such a one as +James or Old Jolyon. And yet the figures of Insurance Societies +and the utterances of Judges reassure us daily that our earthly +paradise is still a rich preserve, where the wild raiders, Beauty +and Passion, come stealing in, filching security from beneath our +noses. As surely as a dog will bark at a brass band, so will the +essential Soames in human nature ever rise up uneasily against +the dissolution which hovers round the folds of ownership. + +"Let the dead Past bury its dead" would be a better saying if the +Past ever died. The persistence of the Past is one of those +tragi-comic blessings which each new age denies, coming cocksure +on to the stage to mouth its claim to a perfect novelty. + +But no Age is so new as that! Human Nature, under its changing +pretensions and clothes, is and ever will be very much of a +Forsyte, and might, after all, be a much worse animal. + +Looking back on the Victorian era, whose ripeness, decline, and +'fall-of' is in some sort pictured in "The Forsyte Saga," we see +now that we have but jumped out of a frying-pan into a fire. It +would be difficult to substantiate a claim that the case of +England was better in 1913 than it was in 1886, when the Forsytes +assembled at Old Jolyon's to celebrate the engagement of June to +Philip Bosinney. And in 1920, when again the clan gathered to +bless the marriage of Fleur with Michael Mont, the state of +England is as surely too molten and bankrupt as in the eighties +it was too congealed and low-percented. If these chronicles had + +been a really scientific study of transition one would have dwelt +probably on such factors as the invention of bicycle, motor-car, +and flying-machine; the arrival of a cheap Press; the decline of +country life and increase of the towns; the birth of the Cinema. +Men are, in fact, quite unable to control their own inventions; +they at best develop adaptability to the new conditions those +inventions create. + +But this long tale is no scientific study of a period; it is +rather an intimate incarnation of the disturbance that Beauty +effects in the lives of men. + +The figure of Irene, never, as the reader may possibly have +observed, present, except through the senses of other characters, +is a concretion of disturbing Beauty impinging on a possessive +world. + +One has noticed that readers, as they wade on through the salt +waters of the Saga, are inclined more and more to pity Soames, +and to think that in doing so they are in revolt against the mood +of his creator. Far from it! He, too, pities Soames, the +tragedy of whose life is the very simple, uncontrollable tragedy +of being unlovable, without quite a thick enough skin to be +thoroughly unconscious of the fact. Not even Fleur loves Soames +as he feels he ought to be loved. But in pitying Soames, readers +incline, perhaps, to animus against Irene: After all, they think, +he wasn't a bad fellow, it wasn't his fault; she ought to have +forgiven him, and so on! + +And, taking sides, they lose perception of the simple truth, +which underlies the whole story, that where sex attraction is +utterly and definitely lacking in one partner to a union, no +amount of pity, or reason, or duty, or what not, can overcome a +repulsion implicit in Nature. Whether it ought to, or no, is +beside the point; because in fact it never does. And where Irene +seems hard and cruel, as in the Bois de Boulogne, or the Goupenor +Gallery, she is but wisely realistic--knowing that the least +concession is the inch which precedes the impossible, the +repulsive ell. + +A criticism one might pass on the last phase of the Saga is the +complaint that Irene and Jolyon those rebels against property-- +claim spiritual property in their son Jon. But it would be +hypercriticism, as the tale is told. No father and mother could +have let the boy marry Fleur without knowledge of the facts; and +the facts determine Jon, not the persuasion of his parents. +Moreover, Jolyon's persuasion is not on his own account, but on +Irene's, and Irene's persuasion becomes a reiterated: "Don't +think of me, think of yourself!" That Jon, knowing the facts, can +realise his mother's feelings, will hardly with justice be held +proof that she is, after all, a Forsyte. + +But though the impingement of Beauty and the claims of Freedom on +a possessive world are the main prepossessions of the Forsyte +Saga, it cannot be absolved from the charge of embalming the +upper-middle class. As the old Egyptians placed around their +mummies the necessaries of a future existence, so I have +endeavoured to lay beside the, figures of Aunts Ann and Juley and +Hester, of Timothy and Swithin, of Old Jolyon and James, and of +their sons, that which shall guarantee them a little life here- +after, a little balm in the hurried Gilead of a dissolving +"Progress." + +If the upper-middle class, with other classes, is destined to +"move on" into amorphism, here, pickled in these pages, it lies +under glass for strollers in the wide and ill-arranged museum of +Letters. Here it rests, preserved in its own juice: The Sense +of Property. + +1922. + + + + +THE MAN OF PROPERTY + +by JOHN GALSWORTHY + + + + +"........ You will answer +The slaves are ours ....." +-Merchant of Venice. + + + + +TO EDWARD GARNETT + + + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER I + +'AT HOME' AT OLD JOLYON'S + + +Those privileged to be present at a family festival of the +Forsytes have seen that charming and instructive sight--an upper +middle-class family in full plumage. But whosoever of these +favoured persons has possessed the gift of psychological analysis +(a talent without monetary value and properly ignored by the +Forsytes), has witnessed a spectacle, not only delightful in +itself, but illustrative of an obscure human problem. In plainer +words, he has gleaned from a gathering of this family--no branch +of which had a liking for the other, between no three members of +whom existed anything worthy of the name of sympathy--evidence of +that mysterious concrete tenacity which renders a family so +formidable a unit of society, so clear a reproduction of society +in miniature. He has been admitted to a vision of the dim roads +of social progress, has understood something of patriarchal life, +of the swarmings of savage hordes, of the rise and fall of +nations. He is like one who, having watched a tree grow from its +planting--a paragon of tenacity, insulation, and success, amidst +the deaths of a hundred other plants less fibrous, sappy, and +persistent--one day will see it flourishing with bland, full +foliage, in an almost repugnant prosperity, at the summit of its +efflorescence. + +On June 15, eighteen eighty-six, about four of the afternoon, the +observer who chanced to be present at the house of old Jolyon +Forsyte in Stanhope Gate, might have seen the highest +efflorescence of the Forsytes. + +This was the occasion of an 'at home' to celebrate the engagement +of Miss June Forsyte, old Jolyon's granddaughter, to Mr. Philip +Bosinney. In the bravery of light gloves, buff waistcoats, +feathers and frocks, the family were present, even Aunt Ann, who +now but seldom left the comer of her brother Timothy's green +drawing-room, where, under the aegis of a plume of dyed pampas +grass in a light blue vase, she sat all day reading and knitting, +surrounded by the effigies of three generations of Forsytes. +Even Aunt Ann was there; her inflexible back, and the dignity of +her calm old face personifying the rigid possessiveness of the +family idea. + +When a Forsyte was engaged, married, or born, the Forsytes were +present; when a Forsyte died--but no Forsyte had as yet died; +they did not die; death being contrary to their principles, they +took precautions against it, the instinctive precautions of +highly vitalized persons who resent encroachments on their +property. + +About the Forsytes mingling that day with the crowd of other +guests, there was a more than ordinarily groomed look, an alert, +inquisitive assurance, a brilliant respectability, as though they +were attired in defiance of something. The habitual sniff on the +face of Soames Forsyte had spread through their ranks; they were +on their guard. + +The subconscious offensiveness of their attitude has constituted +old Jolyon's 'home' the psychological moment of the family +history, made it the prelude of their drama. + +The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but +as a family; this resentment expressed itself in an added +perfection of raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an +exaggeration of family importance, and--the sniff. Danger--so +indispensable in bringing out the fundamental quality of any +society, group, or individual--was what the Forsytes scented; the +premonition of danger put a burnish on their armour. For the +first time, as a family, they appeared to have an instinct of +being in contact, with some strange and unsafe thing. + +Over against the piano a man of bulk and stature was wearing two +waistcoats on his wide chest, two waistcoats and a ruby pin, +instead of the single satin waistcoat and diamond pin of more +usual occasions, and his shaven, square, old face, the colour of +pale leather, with pale eyes, had its most dignified look, above +his satin stock. This was Swithin Forsyte. Close to the window, +where he could get more than his fair share of fresh air, the +other twin, James--the fat and the lean of it, old Jolyon called +these brothers--like the bulky Swithin, over six feet in height, +but very lean, as though destined from his birth to strike a +balance and maintain an average, brooded over the scene with his +permanent stoop; his grey eyes had an air of fixed absorption in +some secret worry, broken at intervals by a rapid, shifting +scrutiny of surrounding facts; his cheeks, thinned by two +parallel folds, and a long, clean-shaven upper lip, were framed +within Dundreary whiskers. In his hands he turned and turned a +piece of china. Not far off, listening to a lady in brown, his +only son Soames, pale and well-shaved, dark-haired, rather bald, +had poked his chin up sideways, carrying his nose with that +aforesaid appearance of 'sniff,' as though despising an egg which +he knew he could not digest. Behind him his cousin, the tall +George, son of the fifth Forsyte, Roger, had a Quilpish look on +his fleshy face, pondering one of his sardonic jests. Something +inherent to the occasion had affected them all. + +Seated in a row close to one another were three ladies--Aunts +Ann, Hester (the two Forsyte maids), and Juley (short for Julia), +who not in first youth had so far forgotten herself as to marry +Septimus Small, a man of poor constitution. She had survived him +for many years. With her elder and younger sister she lived now +in the house of Timothy, her sixth and youngest brother, on the +Bayswater Road. Each of these ladies held fans in their hands, +and each with some touch of colour, some emphatic feather or +brooch, testified to the solemnity of the opportunity. + +In the centre of the room, under the chandelier, as became a +host, stood the head of the family, old Jolyon himself. Eighty +years of age, with his fine, white hair, his dome-like forehead, +his little, dark grey eyes, and an immense white moustache, which +drooped and spread below the level of his strong jaw, he had a +patriarchal look, and in spite of lean cheeks and hollows at his +temples, seemed master of perennial youth. He held himself +extremely upright, and his shrewd, steady eyes had lost none of +their clear shining. Thus he gave an impression of superiority +to the doubts and dislikes of smaller men. Having had his own +way for innumerable years, he had earned a prescriptive right to +it. It would never have occurred to old Jolyon that it was +necessary to wear a look of doubt or of defiance. + +Between him and the four other brothers who were present, James, +Swithin, Nicholas, and Roger, there was much difference, much +similarity. In turn, each of these four brothers was very +different from the other, yet they, too, were alike. + +Through the varying features and expression of those five faces +could be marked a certain steadfastness of chin, underlying +surface distinctions, marking a racial stamp, too prehistoric to +trace, too remote and permanent to discuss--the very hall-mark +and guarantee of the family fortunes. + +Among the younger generation, in the tall, bull-like George, in +pallid strenuous Archibald, in young Nicholas with his sweet and +tentative obstinacy, in the grave and foppishly determined +Eustace, there was this same stamp--less meaningful perhaps, but +unmistakable--a sign of something ineradicable in the family +soul. At one time or another during the afternoon, all these +faces, so dissimilar and so alike, had worn an expression of +distrust, the object of which was undoubtedly the man whose +acquaintance they were thus assembled to make. Philip Bosinney +was known to be a young man without fortune, but Forsyte girls +had become engaged to such before, and had actually married them. +It was not altogether for this reason, therefore, that the minds +of the Forsytes misgave them. They could not have explained the +origin of a misgiving obscured by the mist of family gossip. A +story was undoubtedly told that he had paid his duty call to +Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester, in a soft grey hat--a soft grey +hat, not even a new one--a dusty thing with a shapeless crown. +"So, extraordinary, my dear--so odd," Aunt Hester, passing +through the little, dark hall (she was rather short-sighted), had +tried to 'shoo' it off a chair, taking it for a strange, +disreputable cat--Tommy had such disgraceful friends! She was +disturbed when it did not move. + +Like an artist for ever seeking to discover the significant +trifle which embodies the whole character of a scene, or place, +or person, so those unconscious artists--the Forsytes had +fastened by intuition on this hat; it was their significant +trifle, the detail in which was embedded the meaning of the whole +matter; for each had asked himself: "Come, now, should I have +paid that visit in that hat?" and each had answered "No!" and +some, with more imagination than others, had added: "It would +never have come into my head!" + +George, on hearing the story, grinned. The hat had obviously +been worn as a practical joke! He himself was a connoisseur of +such. "Very haughty!" he said, "the wild Buccaneer." + +And this mot, the 'Buccaneer,' was bandied from mouth to mouth, +till it became the favourite mode of alluding to Bosinney. + +Her aunts reproached June afterwards about the hat. + +"We don't think you ought to let him, dear!" they had said. + +June had answered in her imperious brisk way, like the little +embodiment of will she was: "Oh! what does it matter? Phil +never knows what he's got on!" + +No one had credited an answer so outrageous. A man not to know +what he had on? No, no! What indeed was this young man, who, in +becoming engaged to June, old Jolyon's acknowledged heiress, had +done so well for himself? He was an architect, not in itself a +sufficient reason for wearing such a hat. None of the Forsytes +happened to be architects, but one of them knew two architects +who would never have worn such a hat upon a call of ceremony in +the London season. + +Dangerous--ah, dangerous! June, of course, had not seen this, +but, though not yet nineteen, she was notorious. Had she not +said to Mrs. Soames--who was always so beautifully dressed--that +feathers were vulgar? Mrs. Soames had actually given up wearing +feathers, so dreadfully downright was dear June! + +These misgivings, this disapproval, and perfectly genuine +distrust, did not prevent the Forsytes from gathering to old +Jolyon's invitation. An 'At Home' at Stanhope Gate was a great +rarity; none had been held for twelve years, not indeed, since +old Mrs. Jolyon had died. + +Never had there been so full an assembly, for, mysteriously +united in spite of all their differences, they had taken arms +against a common peril. Like cattle when a dog comes into the +field, they stood head to head and shoulder to shoulder, prepared +to run upon and trample the invader to death. They had come, +too, no doubt, to get some notion of what sort of presents they +would ultimately be expected to give; for though the question of +wedding gifts was usually graduated in this way: 'What are you +givin'? Nicholas is givin' spoons!'--so very much depended on the +bridegroom. If he were sleek, well-brushed, prosperous-looking, +it was more necessary to give him nice things; he would expect +them. In the end each gave exactly what was right and proper, by +a species of family adjustment arrived at as prices are arrived +at on the Stock Exchange--the exact niceties being regulated at +Timothy's commodious, red-brick residence in Bayswater, +overlooking the Park, where dwelt Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester. + +The uneasiness of the Forsyte family has been justified by the +simple mention of the hat. How impossible and wrong would it +have been for any family, with the regard for appearances which +should ever characterize the great upper middle-class, to feel +otherwise than uneasy! + +The author of the uneasiness stood talking to June by the further +door; his curly hair had a rumpled appearance, as though he found +what was going on around him unusual. He had an air, too, of +having a joke all to himself. George, speaking aside to his +brother, Eustace, said: + +"Looks as if he might make a bolt of it--the dashing Buccaneer!" + +This 'very singular-looking man,' as Mrs. Small afterwards called +him, was of medium height and strong build, with a pale, brown +face, a dust-coloured moustache, very prominent cheek-bones, and +hollow checks. His forehead sloped back towards the crown of his +head, and bulged out in bumps over the eyes, like foreheads seen +in the Lion-house at the Zoo. He had sherry-coloured eyes, +disconcertingly inattentive at times. Old Jolyon's coachman, +after driving June and Bosinney to the theatre, had remarked to +the butler: + +"I dunno what to make of 'im. Looks to me for all the world like +an 'alf-tame leopard." And every now and then a Forsyte would +come up, sidle round, and take a look at him. + +June stood in front, fending off this idle curiosity--a little +bit of a thing, as somebody once said, 'all hair and spirit,' +with fearless blue eyes, a firm jaw, and a bright colour, whose +face and body seemed too slender for her crown of red-gold hair. + +A tall woman, with a beautiful figure, which some member of the +family had once compared to a heathen goddess, stood looking at +these two with a shadowy smile. + +Her hands, gloved in French grey, were crossed one over the +other, her grave, charming face held to one side, and the eyes of +all men near were fastened on it. Her figure swayed, so balanced +that the very air seemed to set it moving. There was warmth, but +little colour, in her cheeks; her large, dark eyes were soft. + +But it was at her lips--asking a question, giving an answer, with +that shadowy smile--that men looked; they were sensitive lips, +sensuous and sweet, and through them seemed to come warmth and +perfume like the warmth and perfume of a flower. + +The engaged couple thus scrutinized were unconscious of this +passive goddess. It was Bosinney who first noticed her, and +asked her name. + +June took her lover up to the woman with the beautiful figure. + +"Irene is my greatest chum," she said: "Please be good friends, +you two!" + +At the little lady's command they all three smiled; and while +they were smiling, Soames Forsyte, silently appearing from behind +the woman with the beautiful figure, who was his wife, said: + +"Ah! introduce me too!" + +He was seldom, indeed, far from Irene's side at public functions, +and even when separated by the exigencies of social intercourse, +could be seen following her about with his eyes, in which were +strange expressions of watchfulness and longing. + +At the window his father, James, was still scrutinizing the marks +on the piece of china. + +"I wonder at Jolyon's allowing this engagement," he said to Aunt +Ann. "They tell me there's no chance of their getting married +for years. This young Bosinney" (he made the word a dactyl in +opposition to general usage of a short o) "has got nothing. When +Winifred married Dartie, I made him bring every penny into +settlement--lucky thing, too--they'd ha' had nothing by this +time!" + +Aunt Ann looked up from her velvet chair. Grey curls banded her +forehead, curls that, unchanged for decades, had extinguished in +the family all sense of time. She made no reply, for she rarely +spoke, husbanding her aged voice; but to James, uneasy of +conscience, her look was as good as an answer. + +"Well," he said, "I couldn't help Irene's having no money. +Soames was in such a hurry; he got quite thin dancing attendance +on her." + +Putting the bowl pettishly down on the piano, he let his eyes +wander to the group by the door. + +"It's my opinion," he said unexpectedly, "that it's just as well +as it is." + +Aunt Ann did not ask him to explain this strange utterance. She +knew what he was thinking. If Irene had no money she would not +be so foolish as to do anything wrong; for they said--they said-- +she had been asking for a separate room; but, of course, Soames +had not.... + +James interrupted her reverie: + +"But where," he asked, "was Timothy? Hadn't he come with them?" + +Through Aunt Ann's compressed lips a tender smile forced its way: + +"No, he didn't think it wise, with so much of this diphtheria +about; and he so liable to take things." + +James answered: + +"Well, HE takes good care of himself. I can't afford to take the +care of myself that he does." + +Nor was it easy to say which, of admiration, envy, or contempt, +was dominant in that remark. + +Timothy, indeed, was seldom seen. The baby of the family, a +publisher by profession, he had some years before, when business +was at full tide, scented out the stagnation which, indeed, had +not yet come, but which ultimately, as all agreed, was bound to +set in, and, selling his share in a firm engaged mainly in the +production of religious books, had invested the quite conspicuous +proceeds in three per cent. consols. By this act he had at once +assumed an isolated position, no other Forsyte being content with +less than four per cent. for his money; and this isolation had +slowly and surely undermined a spirit perhaps better than +commonly endowed with caution. He had become almost a myth--a +kind of incarnation of security haunting the background of the +Forsyte universe. He had never committed the imprudence of +marrying, or encumbering himself in any way with children. + +James resumed, tapping the piece of china: + +"This isn't real old Worcester. I s'pose Jolyon's told you +something about the young man. From all I can learn, he's got no +business, no income, and no connection worth speaking of; but +then, I know nothing--nobody tells me anything." + +Aunt Ann shook her head. Over her square-chinned, aquiline old +face a trembling passed; the spidery fingers of her hands pressed +against each other and interlaced, as though she were subtly +recharging her will. + +The eldest by some years of all the Forsytes, she held a peculiar +position amongst them. Opportunists and egotists one and all-- +though not, indeed, more so than their neighbours--they quailed +before her incorruptible figure, and, when opportunities were too +strong, what could they do but avoid her! + +Twisting his long, thin legs, James went on: + +"Jolyon, he will have his own way. He's got no children"--and +stopped, recollecting the continued existence of old Jolyon's +son, young Jolyon, June's father, who had made such a mess of it, +and done for himself by deserting his wife and child and running +away with that foreign governess. "Well," he resumed hastily, +"if he likes to do these things, I s'pose he can afford to. Now, +what's he going to give her? I s'pose he'll give her a thousand +a year; he's got nobody else to leave his money to." + +He stretched out his hand to meet that of a dapper, clean-shaven +man, with hardly a hair on his head, a long, broken nose, full +lips, and cold grey eyes under rectangular brows. + +"Well, Nick," he muttered, "how are you?" + +Nicholas Forsyte, with his bird-like rapidity and the look of a +preternaturally sage schoolboy (he had made a large fortune, +quite legitimately, out of the companies of which he was a +director), placed within that cold palm the tips of his still +colder fingers and hastily withdrew them. + +"I'm bad," he said, pouting--"been bad all the week; don't sleep +at night. The doctor can't tell why. He's a clever fellow, or I +shouldn't have him, but I get nothing out of him but bills." + +"Doctors!" said James, coming down sharp on his words: "I've had +all the doctors in London for one or another of us. There's no +satisfaction to be got out of them; they'll tell you anything. +There's Swithin, now. What good have they done him? There he +is; he's bigger than ever; he's enormous; they can't get his +weight down. Look at him!" + +Swithin Forsyte, tall, square, and broad, with a chest like a +pouter pigeon's in its plumage of bright waistcoats, came +strutting towards them. + +"Er--how are you?" he said in his dandified way, aspirating the +'h' strongly (this difficult letter was almost absolutely safe in +his keeping)--"how are you?" + +Each brother wore an air of aggravation as he looked at the other +two, knowing by experience that they would try to eclipse his +ailments. + +"We were just saying," said James, "that you don't get any +thinner." + +Swithin protruded his pale round eyes with the effort of hearing. + +"Thinner? I'm in good case," he said, leaning a little forward, +"not one of your thread-papers like you!" + +But, afraid of losing the expansion of his chest, he leaned back +again into a state of immobility, for he prized nothing so highly +as a distinguished appearance. + +Aunt Ann turned her old eyes from one to the other. Indulgent +and severe was her look. In turn the three brothers looked at +Ann. She was getting shaky. Wonderful woman! Eighty-six if a +day; might live another ten years, and had never been strong. +Swithin and James, the twins, were only seventy-five, Nicholas a +mere baby of seventy or so. All were strong, and the inference +was comforting. Of all forms of property their respective healths +naturally concerned them most. + +"I'm very well in myself," proceeded James, "but my nerves are +out of order. The least thing worries me to death. I shall have +to go to Bath." + +"Bath!" said Nicholas. "I've tried Harrogate. That's no good. +What I want is sea air. There's nothing like Yarmouth. Now, +when I go there I sleep...." + +"My liver's very bad," interrupted Swithin slowly. "Dreadful +pain here;" and he placed his hand on his right side. + +"Want of exercise," muttered James, his eyes on the china. He +quickly added: "I get a pain there, too." + +Swithin reddened, a resemblance to a turkey-cock coming upon his +old face. + +"Exercise!" he said. "I take plenty: I never use the lift at the +Club." + +"I didn't know," James hurried out. "I know nothing about +anybody; nobody tells me anything...." + +Swithin fixed him with a stare: + +"What do you do for a pain there?" + +James brightened. + +"I take a compound...." + +"How are you, uncle?" + +June stood before him, her resolute small face raised from her +little height to his great height, and her hand outheld. + +The brightness faded from James's visage. + +"How are you?" he said, brooding over her. "So you're going to +Wales to-morrow to visit your young man's aunts? You'll have a +lot of rain there. This isn't real old Worcester." He tapped the +bowl. "Now, that set I gave your mother when she married was the +genuine thing." + +June shook hands one by one with her three great-uncles, and +turned to Aunt Ann. A very sweet look had come into the old +lady's face, she kissed the girl's check with trembling fervour. + +"Well, my dear," she said, "and so you're going for a whole +month!" + +The girl passed on, and Aunt Ann looked after her slim little +figure. The old lady's round, steel grey eyes, over which a film +like a bird's was beginning to come, followed her wistfully +amongst the bustling crowd, for people were beginning to +say good-bye; and her finger-tips, pressing and pressing against +each other, were busy again with the recharging of her will +against that inevitable ultimate departure of her own. + +'Yes,' she thought, 'everybody's been most kind; quite a lot of +people come to congratulate her. She ought to be very happy.' +Amongst the throng of people by the door, the well-dressed throng +drawn from the families of lawyers and doctors, from the Stock +Exchange, and all the innumerable avocations of the upper-middle +class--there were only some twenty percent of Forsytes; but to +Aunt Ann they seemed all Forsytes--and certainly there was not +much difference--she saw only her own flesh and blood. It was +her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never perhaps +known any other. All their little secrets, illnesses, +engagements, and marriages, how they were getting on, and whether +they were making money--all this was her property, her delight, +her life; beyond this only a vague, shadowy mist of facts and +persons of no real significance. This it was that she would have +to lay down when it came to her turn to die; this which gave to +her that importance, that secret self-importance, without which +none of us can bear to live; and to this she clung wistfully, +with a greed that grew each day! If life were slipping away from +her, this she would retain to the end. + +She thought of June's father, young Jolyon, who had run away with +that foreign girl. And what a sad blow to his father and to them +all. Such a promising young fellow! A sad blow, though there +had been no public scandal, most fortunately, Jo's wife seeking +for no divorce! A long time ago! And when June's mother died, +six years ago, Jo had married that woman, and they had two +children now, so she had heard. Still, he had forfeited his +right to be there, had cheated her of the complete fulfilment of +her family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of seeing +and kissing him of whom she had been so proud, such a promising +young fellow! The thought rankled with the bitterness of a +long-inflicted injury in her tenacious old heart. A little water +stood in her eyes. With a handkerchief of the finest lawn she +wiped them stealthily. + +"Well, Aunt Ann?" said a voice behind. + +Soames Forsyte, flat-shouldered, clean-shaven, flat-cheeked, +flat-waisted, yet with something round and secret about his whole +appearance, looked downwards and aslant at Aunt Ann, as though +trying to see through the side of his own nose. + +"And what do you think of the engagement?" he asked. + +Aunt Ann's eyes rested on him proudly; of all the nephews since +young Jolyon's departure from the family nest, he was now her +favourite, for she recognised in him a sure trustee of the family +soul that must so soon slip beyond her keeping. + +"Very nice for the young man," she said; "and he's a good-looking +young fellow; but I doubt if he's quite the right lover for dear +June." + +Soames touched the edge of a gold-lacquered lustre. + +"She'll tame him," he said, stealthily wetting his finger and +rubbing it on the knobby bulbs. "That's genuine old lacquer; you +can't get it nowadays. It'd do well in a sale at Jobson's." He +spoke with relish, as though he felt that he was cheering up his +old aunt. It was seldom he was so confidential. "I wouldn't +mind having it myself," he added; "you can always get your price +for old lacquer." + +"You're so clever with all those things," said Aunt Ann. "And +how is dear Irene?" + +Soames's smile died. + +"Pretty well," he said. "Complains she can't sleep; she sleeps a +great deal better than I do," and he looked at his wife, who was +talking to Bosinney by the door. + +Aunt Ann sighed. + +"Perhaps," she said, "it will be just as well for her not to see +so much of June. She's such a decided character, dear June!" + +Soames flushed; his flushes passed rapidly over his flat cheeks +and centered between his eyes, where they remained, the stamp of +disturbing thoughts. + +"I don't know what she sees in that little flibbertigibbet," he +burst out, but noticing that they were no longer alone, he turned +and again began examining the lustre. + +"They tell me Jolyon's bought another house," said his father's +voice close by; "he must have a lot of money--he must have more +money than he knows what to do with! Montpellier Square, they +say; close to Soames! They never told me, Irene never tells me +anything!" + +"Capital position, not two minutes from me," said the voice of +Swithin, "and from my rooms I can drive to the Club in eight." + +The position of their houses was of vital importance to the +Forsytes, nor was this remarkable, since the whole spirit of +their success was embodied therein. + +Their father, of farming stock, had come from Dorsetshire near +the beginning of the century. + +'Superior Dosset Forsyte, as he was called by his intimates, had +been a stonemason by trade, and risen to the position of a +master-builder. + +Towards the end of his life he moved to London, where, building +on until he died, he was buried at Highgate. He left over thirty +thousand pounds between his ten children. Old Jolyon alluded to +him, if at all, as 'A hard, thick sort of man; not much +refinement about him.' The second generation of Forsytes felt +indeed that he was not greatly to their credit. The only +aristocratic trait they could find in his character was a habit +of drinking Madeira. + +Aunt Hester, an authority on family history, described him thus: +"I don't recollect that he ever did anything; at least, not in my +time. He was er--an owner of houses, my dear. His hair about +your Uncle Swithin's colour; rather a square build. Tall? No-- +not very tall" (he had been five feet five, with a mottled +face); "a fresh-coloured man. I remember he used to drink +Madeira; but ask your Aunt Ann. What was his father? He--er-- +had to do with the land down in Dorsetshire, by the sea." + +James once went down to see for himself what sort of place this +was that they had come from. He found two old farms, with a cart +track rutted into the pink earth, leading down to a mill by the +beach; a little grey church with a buttressed outer wall, and a +smaller and greyer chapel. The stream which worked the mill came +bubbling down in a dozen rivulets, and pigs were hunting round +that estuary. A haze hovered over the prospect. Down this +hollow, with their feet deep in the mud and their faces towards +the sea, it appeared that the primeval Forsytes had been content +to walk Sunday after Sunday for hundreds of years. + +Whether or no James had cherished hopes of an inheritance, or of +something rather distinguished to be found down there, he came +back to town in a poor way, and went about with a pathetic +attempt at making the best of a bad job. + +"There's very little to be had out of that," he said; "regular +country little place, old as the hills...." + +Its age was felt to be a comfort. Old Jolyon, in whom a +desperate honesty welled up at times, would allude to his +ancestors as: "Yeomen--I suppose very small beer." Yet he would +repeat the word 'yeomen' as if it afforded him consolation. + +They had all done so well for themselves, these Forsytes, that +they were all what is called 'of a certain position.' They had +shares in all sorts of things, not as yet--with the exception of +Timothy--in consols, for they had no dread in life like that of +3 per cent. for their money. They collected pictures, too, and +were supporters of such charitable institutions as might be +beneficial to their sick domestics. From their father, the +builder, they inherited a talent for bricks and mortar. +Originally, perhaps, members of some primitive sect, they were +now in the natural course of things members of the Church of +England, and caused their wives and children to attend with some +regularity the more fashionable churches of the Metropolis. To +have doubted their Christianity would have caused them both pain +and surprise. Some of them paid for pews, thus expressing in the +most practical form their sympathy with the teachings of Christ. + +Their residences, placed at stated intervals round the park, +watched like sentinels, lest the fair heart of this London, where +their desires were fixed, should slip from their clutches, and +leave them lower in their own estimations. + +There was old Jolyon in Stanhope Place; the Jameses in Park Lane; +Swithin in the lonely glory of orange and blue chambers in Hyde +Park Mansions--he had never married, not he--the Soamses in their +nest off Knightsbridge; the Rogers in Prince's Gardens (Roger was +that remarkable Forsyte who had conceived and carried out the +notion of bringing up his four sons to a new profession. +"Collect house property, nothing like it," he would say; +"I never did anything else"). + +The Haymans again--Mrs. Hayman was the one married Forsyte +sister--in a house high up on Campden Hill, shaped like a +giraffe, and so tall that it gave the observer a crick in the +neck; the Nicholases in Ladbroke Grove, a spacious abode and a +great bargain; and last, but not least, Timothy's on the +Bayswater Road, where Ann, and Juley, and Hester, lived under his +protection. + +But all this time James was musing, and now he inquired of his +host and brother what he had given for that house in Montpellier +Square. He himself had had his eye on a house there for the last +two years, but they wanted such a price. + +Old Jolyon recounted the details of his purchase. + +"Twenty-two years to run?" repeated James; "The very house I was +after--you've given too much for it!" + +Old Jolyon frowned. + +"It's not that I want it," said James hastily; it wouldn't suit +my purpose at that price. Soames knows the house, well--he'll +tell you it's too dear--his opinion's worth having." + +"I don't," said old Jolyon, "care a fig for his opinion." + +"Well," murmured James, "you will have your own way--it's a good +opinion. Good-bye! We're going to drive down to Hurlingham. +They tell me June's going to Wales. You'll be lonely tomorrow. +What'll you do with yourself? You'd better come and dine with +us!" + +Old Jolyon refused. He went down to the front door and saw them +into their barouche, and twinkled at them, having already +forgotten his spleen--Mrs. James facing the horses, tall and +majestic with auburn hair; on her left, Irene--the two husbands, +father and son, sitting forward, as though they expected +something, opposite their wives. Bobbing and bounding upon the +spring cushions, silent, swaying to each motion of their chariot, +old Jolyon watched them drive away under the sunlight. + +During the drive the silence was broken by Mrs. James. + +"Did you ever see such a collection of rumty-too people?" + +Soames, glancing at her beneath his eyelids, nodded, and he saw +Irene steal at him one of her unfathomable looks. It is likely +enough that each branch of the Forsyte family made that remark as +they drove away from old Jolyon's 'At Home!' + +Amongst the last of the departing guests the fourth and fifth +brothers, Nicholas and Roger, walked away together, directing +their steps alongside Hyde Park towards the Praed Street Station +of the Underground. Like all other Forsytes of a certain age +they kept carriages of their own, and never took cabs if by any +means they could avoid it. + +The day was bright, the trees of the Park in the full beauty of +mid-June foliage; the brothers did not seem to notice phenomena, +which contributed, nevertheless, to the jauntiness of promenade +and conversation. + +"Yes," said Roger, "she's a good-lookin' woman, that wife of +Soames's. I'm told they don't get on." + +This brother had a high forehead, and the freshest colour of any +of the Forsytes; his light grey eyes measured the street frontage +of the houses by the way, and now and then he would level his, +umbrella and take a 'lunar,' as he expressed it, of the varying +heights. + +"She'd no money," replied Nicholas. + +He himself had married a good deal of money, of which, it being +then the golden age before the Married Women's Property Act, he +had mercifully been enabled to make a successful use. + +"What was her father?" + +"Heron was his name, a Professor, so they tell me." + +Roger shook his head. + +"There's no money in that," he said. + +"They say her mother's father was cement." + +Roger's face brightened. + +"But he went bankrupt," went on Nicholas. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Roger, "Soames will have trouble with her; you +mark my words, he'll have trouble--she's got a foreign look." + +Nicholas licked his lips. + +"She's a pretty woman," and he waved aside a crossing-sweeper. + +"How did he get hold of her?" asked Roger presently. "She must +cost him a pretty penny in dress!" + +"Ann tells me," replied Nicholas," he was half-cracked about her. +She refused him five times. James, he's nervous about it, I can +see." + +"Ah!" said Roger again; "I'm sorry for James; he had trouble with +Dartie." His pleasant colour was heightened by exercise, he swung +his umbrella to the level of his eye more frequently than ever. +Nicholas's face also wore a pleasant look. + +"Too pale for me," he said, "but her figures capital!" + +Roger made no reply. + +"I call her distinguished-looking," he said at last--it was the +highest praise in the Forsyte vocabulary. "That young Bosinney +will never do any good for himself. They say at Burkitt's he's +one of these artistic chaps--got an idea of improving English +architecture; there's no money in that! I should like to hear +what Timothy would say to it." + +They entered the station. + +"What class are you going? I go second." + +"No second for me," said Nicholas;--"you never know what you may +catch." + +He took a first-class ticket to Notting Hill Gate; Roger a second +to South Kensington. The train coming in a minute later, the two +brothers parted and entered their respective compartments. Each +felt aggrieved that the other had not modified his habits to +secure his society a little longer; but as Roger voiced it in his +thoughts: +'Always a stubborn beggar, Nick!' + +And as Nicholas expressed it to himself: + +'Cantankerous chap Roger--always was!' + +There was little sentimentality about the Forsytes. In that +great London, which they had conquered and become merged in, what +time had they to be sentimental? + + + + +CHAPTER II + +OLD JOLYON GOES TO THE OPERA + + +At five o'clock the following day old Jolyon sat alone, a cigar +between his lips, and on a table by his side a cup of tea. He +was tired, and before he had finished his cigar he fell asleep. +A fly settled on his hair, his breathing sounded heavy in the +drowsy silence, his upper lip under the white moustache puffed in +and out. From between the fingers of his veined and wrinkled +hand the cigar, dropping on the empty hearth, burned itself out. + +The gloomy little study, with windows of stained glass to +exclude the view, was full of dark green velvet and +heavily-carved mahogany--a suite of which old Jolyon was wont to +say: 'Shouldn't wonder if it made a big price some day!' + +It was pleasant to think that in the after life he could get more +for things than he had given. + +In the rich brown atmosphere peculiar to back rooms in the +mansion of a Forsyte, the Rembrandtesque effect of his great +head, with its white hair, against the cushion of his high-backed +seat, was spoiled by the moustache, which imparted a somewhat +military look to his face. An old clock that had been with him +since before his marriage forty years ago kept with its ticking a +jealous record of the seconds slipping away forever from its old +master. + +He had never cared for this room, hardly going into it from one +year's end to another, except to take cigars from the Japanese +cabinet in the corner, and the room now had its revenge. + +His temples, curving like thatches over the hollows beneath, his +cheek-bones and chin, all were sharpened in his sleep, and there +had come upon his face the confession that he was an old man. + +He woke. June had gone! James had said he would be lonely. +James had always been a poor thing. He recollected with +satisfaction that he had bought that house over James's head. + +Serve him right for sticking at the price; the only thing the +fellow thought of was money. Had he given too much, though? It +wanted a lot of doing to--He dared say he would want all his +money before he had done with this affair of June's. He ought +never to have allowed the engagement. She had met this Bosinney +at the house of Baynes, Baynes and Bildeboy, the architects. He +believed that Baynes, whom he knew--a bit of an old woman--was +the young man's uncle by marriage. After that she'd been always +running after him; and when she took a thing into her head there +was no stopping her. She was continually taking up with 'lame +ducks' of one sort or another. This fellow had no money, but she +must needs become engaged to him--a harumscarum, unpractical +chap, who would get himself into no end of difficulties. + +She had come to him one day in her slap-dash way and told him; +and, as if it were any consolation, she had added: + +"He's so splendid; he's often lived on cocoa for a week!" + +"And he wants you to live on cocoa too?" + +"Oh no; he is getting into the swim now." + +Old Jolyon had taken his cigar from under his white moustaches, +stained by coffee at the edge, and looked at her, that little +slip of a thing who had got such a grip of his heart. He knew +more about 'swims' than his granddaughter. But she, having +clasped her hands on his knees, rubbed her chin against him, +making a sound like a purring cat. And, knocking the ash off his +cigar, he had exploded in nervous desperation: + +"You're all alike: you won't be satisfied till you've got what +you want. If you must come to grief, you must; I wash my hands +of it." + +So, he had washed his hands of it, making the condition that they +should not marry until Bosinney had at least four hundred a year. + +"I shan't be able to give you very much," he had said, a formula +to which June was not unaccustomed." Perhaps this What's-his- +name will provide the cocoa." + +He had hardly seen anything of her since it began. A bad +business! He had no notion of giving her a lot of money to +enable a fellow he knew nothing about to live on in idleness. +He had seen that sort of thing before; no good ever came of it. +Worst of all, he had no hope of shaking her resolution; she was +as obstinate as a mule, always had been from a child. He didn't +see where it was to end. They must cut their coat according to +their cloth. He would not give way till he saw young Bosinney +with an income of his own. That June would have trouble with the +fellow was as plain as a pikestaff; he had no more idea of money +than a cow. As to this rushing down to Wales to visit the young +man's aunts, he fully expected they were old cats. + +And, motionless, old Jolyon stared at the wall; but for his open +eyes, he might have been asleep.... The idea of supposing that +young cub Soames could give him advice! He had always been a +cub, with his nose in the air! He would be setting up as a man +of property next, with a place in the country! A man of +property! H'mph! Like his father, he was always nosing out +bargains, a cold-blooded young beggar! + +He rose, and, going to the cabinet, began methodically stocking +his cigar-case from a bundle fresh in. They were not bad at the +price, but you couldn't get a good cigar, nowadays, nothing to +hold a candle to those old Superfinos of Hanson and Bridger's. +That was a cigar! + +The thought, like some stealing perfume, carried him back to +those wonderful nights at Richmond when after dinner he sat +smoking on the terrace of the Crown and Sceptre with Nicholas +Treffry and Traquair and Jack Herring and Anthony Thornworthy. +How good his cigars were then! Poor old Nick!--dead, and Jack +Herring--dead, and Traquair--dead of that wife of his, and +Thornworthy--awfully shaky (no wonder, with his appetite). + +Of all the company of those days he himself alone seemed left, +except Swithin, of course, and he so outrageously big there was +no doing anything with him. + +Difficult to believe it was so long ago; he felt young still! Of +all his thoughts, as he stood there counting his cigars, this was +the most poignant, the most bitter. With his white head and his +loneliness he had remained young and green at heart. And those +Sunday afternoons on Hampstead Heath, when young Jolyon and he +went for a stretch along the Spaniard's Road to Highgate, to +Child's Hill, and back over the Heath again to dine at Jack +Straw's Castle--how delicious his cigars were then! And such +weather! There was no weather now. + +When June was a toddler of five, and every other Sunday he took +her to the Zoo, away from the society of those two good women, +her mother and her grandmother, and at the top of the bear den +baited his umbrella with buns for her favourite bears, how sweet +his cigars were then! + +Cigars! He had not even succeeded in out-living his palate--the +famous palate that in the fifties men swore by, and speaking of +him, said: "Forsyte's the best palate in London!" The palate that +in a sense had made his fortune--the fortune of the celebrated +tea men, Forsyte and Treffry, whose tea, like no other man's tea, +had a romantic aroma, the charm of a quite singular genuineness. +About the house of Forsyte and Treffry in the City had clung an +air of enterprise and mystery, of special dealings in special +ships, at special ports, with special Orientals. + +He had worked at that business! Men did work in those days! +these young pups hardly knew the meaning of the word. He had +gone into every detail, known everything that went on, sometimes +sat up all night over it. And he had always chosen his agents +himself, prided himself on it. His eye for men, he used to say, +had been the secret of his success, and the exercise of this +masterful power of selection had been the only part of it all +that he had really liked. Not a career for a man of his ability. +Even now, when the business had been turned into a Limited +Liability Company, and was declining (he had got out of his +shares long ago), he felt a sharp chagrin in thinking of that +time. How much better he might have done! He would have +succeeded splendidly at the Bar! He had even thought of standing +for Parliament. How often had not Nicholas Treffry said to him: + +"You could do anything, Jo, if you weren't so d-damned careful of +yourself!" Dear old Nick! Such a good fellow, but a racketty +chap! The notorious Treffry! He had never taken any care of +himself. So he was dead. Old Jolyon counted his cigars with a +steady hand, and it came into his mind to wonder if perhaps he +had been too careful of himself. + +He put the cigar-case in the breast of his coat, buttoned it in, +and walked up the long flights to his bedroom, leaning on one +foot and the other, and helping himself by the bannister. The +house was too big. After June was married, if she ever did marry +this fellow, as he supposed she would, he would let it and go +into rooms. What was the use of keeping half a dozen servants +eating their heads off? + +The butler came to the ring of his bell--a large man with a +beard, a soft tread, and a peculiar capacity for silence. Old +Jolyon told him to put his dress clothes out; he was going to +dine at the Club. + +How long had the carriage been back from taking Miss June to the +station? Since two? Then let him come round at half-past six! + +The Club which old Jolyon entered on the stroke of seven was one +of those political institutions of the upper middle class which +have seen better days. In spite of being talked about, perhaps +in consequence of being talked about, it betrayed a disappointing +vitality. People had grown tired of saying that the 'Disunion' +was on its last legs. Old Jolyon would say it, too, yet +disregarded the fact in a manner truly irritating to +well-constituted Clubmen. + +"Why do you keep your name on?" Swithin often asked him with +profound vexation. "Why don't you join the 'Polyglot'? You can't +get a wine like our Heidsieck under twenty shillin' a bottle +anywhere in London;" and, dropping his voice, he added: "There's +only five hundred dozen left. I drink it every night of my +life." + +"I'll think of it," old Jolyon would answer; but when he did think +of it there was always the question of fifty guineas entrance +fee, and it would take him four or five years to get in. He +continued to think of it. + +He was too old to be a Liberal, had long ceased to believe in the +political doctrines of his Club, had even been known to allude to +them as 'wretched stuff,' and it afforded him pleasure to +continue a member in the teeth of principles so opposed to his +own. He had always had a contempt for the place, having joined +it many years ago when they refused to have him at the 'Hotch +Potch' owing to his being 'in trade.' As if he were not as good +as any of them! He naturally despised the Club that did take +him. The members were a poor lot, many of them in the City-- +stockbrokers, solicitors, auctioneers--what not! Like most men +of strong character but not too much originality, old Jolyon set +small store by the class to which he belonged. Faithfully he +followed their customs, social and otherwise, and secretly he +thought them 'a common lot.' + +Years and philosophy, of which he had his share, had dimmed the +recollection of his defeat at the 'Hotch Potch'; and now in his +thoughts it was enshrined as the Queen of Clubs. He would have +been a member all these years himself, but, owing to the slipshod +way his proposer, Jack Herring, had gone to work, they had not +known what they were doing in keeping him out. Why! they had +taken his son Jo at once, and he believed the boy was still a +member; he had received a letter dated from there eight years +ago. + +He had not been near the 'Disunion' for months, and the house had +undergone the piebald decoration which people bestow on old +houses and old ships when anxious to sell them. + +'Beastly colour, the smoking-room!' he thought. 'The dining-room +is good!' + +Its gloomy chocolate, picked out with light green, took his +fancy. + +He ordered dinner, and sat down in the very corner, at the very +table perhaps! (things did not progress much at the 'Disunion,' +a Club of almost Radical principles) at which he and young Jolyon +used to sit twenty-five years ago, when he was taking the latter +to Drury Lane, during his holidays. + +The boy had loved the theatre, and old Jolyon recalled how he +used to sit opposite, concealing his excitement under a careful +but transparent nonchalance. + +He ordered himself, too, the very dinner the boy had always +chosen-soup, whitebait, cutlets, and a tart. Ah! if he were +only opposite now! + +The two had not met for fourteen years. And not for the first +time during those fourteen years old Jolyon wondered whether he +had been a little to blame in the matter of his son. An +unfortunate love-affair with that precious flirt Danae Thorn- +worthy (now Danae Pellew), Anthony Thornworthy's daughter, had +thrown him on the rebound into the arms of June's mother. He +ought perhaps to have put a spoke in the wheel of their marriage; +they were too young; but after that experience of Jo's +susceptibility he had been only too anxious to see him married. +And in four years the crash had come! To have approved his son's +conduct in that crash was, of course, impossible; reason and +training--that combination of potent factors which stood for his +principles--told him of this impossibility, and his heart cried +out. The grim remorselessness of that business had no pity for +hearts. There was June, the atom with flaming hair, who had +climbed all over him, twined and twisted herself about him--about +his heart that was made to be the plaything and beloved resort of +tiny, helpless things. With characteristic insight he saw he +must part with one or with the other; no half-measures could +serve in such a situation. In that lay its tragedy. And the +tiny, helpless thing prevailed. He would not run with the hare +and hunt with the hounds, and so to his son he said good-bye. + +That good-bye had lasted until now. + +He had proposed to continue a reduced allowance to young Jolyon, +but this had been refused, and perhaps that refusal had hurt him +more than anything, for with it had gone the last outlet of his +penned-in affection; and there had come such tangible and solid +proof of rupture as only a transaction in property, a bestowal or +refusal of such, could supply. + +His dinner tasted flat. His pint of champagne was dry and bitter +stuff, not like the Veuve Clicquots of old days. + +Over his cup of coffee, he bethought him that he would go to the +opera. In the Times, therefore--he had a distrust of other +papers--he read the announcement for the evening. It was +'Fidelio.' + +Mercifully not one of those new-fangled German pantomimes by that +fellow Wagner. + +Putting on his ancient opera hat, which, with its brim flattened +by use, and huge capacity, looked like an emblem of greater days, +and, pulling out an old pair of very thin lavender kid gloves +smelling strongly of Russia leather, from habitual proximity to +the cigar-case in the pocket of his overcoat, he stepped into a +hansom. + +The cab rattled gaily along the streets, and old Jolyon was +struck by their unwonted animation. + +'The hotels must be doing a tremendous business,' he thought. A +few years ago there had been none of these big hotels. He made +a satisfactory reflection on some property he had in the +neighbourhood. It must be going up in value by leaps and bounds! +What traffic! + +But from that he began indulging in one of those strange +impersonal speculations, so uncharacteristic of a Forsyte, +wherein lay, in part, the secret of his supremacy amongst them. +What atoms men were, and what a lot of them! And what would +become of them all? + +He stumbled as he got out of the cab, gave the man his exact +fare, walked up to the ticket office to take his stall, and stood +there with his purse in his hand--he always carried his money in +a purse, never having approved of that habit of carrying it +loosely in the pockets, as so many young men did nowadays. The +official leaned out, like an old dog from a kennel. + +"Why," he said in a surprised voice, "it's Mr. Jolyon Forsyte! +So it is! Haven't seen you, sir, for years. Dear me! Times +aren't what they were. Why! you and your brother, and that +auctioneer--Mr. Traquair, and Mr. Nicholas Treffry--you used to +have six or seven stalls here regular every season. And how are +you, sir? We don't get younger!" + +The colour in old Jolyon's eyes deepened; he paid his guinea. +They had not forgotten him. He marched in, to the sounds of the +overture, like an old war-horse to battle. + +Folding his opera hat, he sat down, drew out his lavender gloves +in the old way, and took up his glasses for a long look round the +house. Dropping them at last on his folded hat, he fixed his +eyes on the curtain. More poignantly than ever he felt that it +was all over and done with him. Where were all the women, the +pretty women, the house used to be so full of? Where was that +old feeling in the heart as he waited for one of those great +singers? Where that sensation of the intoxication of life and +of his own power to enjoy it all? + +The greatest opera-goer of his day! There was no opera now! +That fellow Wagner had ruined everything; no melody left, nor any +voices to sing it. Ah! the wonderful singers! Gone! He sat +watching the old scenes acted, a numb feeling at his heart. + +From the curl of silver over his ear to the pose of his foot in +its elastic-sided patent boot, there was nothing clumsy or weak +about old Jolyon. He was as upright--very nearly--as in those +old times when he came every night; his sight was as good--almost +as good. But what a feeling of weariness and disillusion! + +He had been in the habit all his life of enjoying things, even +imperfect things--and there had been many imperfect things--he +had enjoyed them all with moderation, so as to keep himself +young. But now he was deserted by his power of enjoyment, by his +philosophy, and left with this dreadful feeling that it was all +done with. Not even the Prisoners' Chorus, nor Florian's Song, +had the power to dispel the gloom of his loneliness. + +If Jo were only with him! The boy must be forty by now. He had +wasted fourteen years out of the life of his only son. And Jo +was no longer a social pariah. He was married. Old Jolyon had +been unable to refrain from marking his appreciation of the +action by enclosing his son a cheque for L500. The cheque had +been returned in a letter from the 'Hotch Potch,' couched in +these words. + + +'MY DEAREST FATHER, + +'Your generous gift was welcome as a sign that you might think +worse of me. I return it, but should you think fit to invest it +for the benefit of the little chap (we call him Jolly), who bears +our Christian and, by courtesy, our surname, I shall be very +glad. + +'I hope with all my heart that your health is as good as ever. + +'Your loving son, + + 'Jo.' + + +The letter was like the boy. He had always been an amiable chap. +Old Jolyon had sent this reply: + + +'MY DEAR JO, + +'The sum (L500) stands in my books for the benefit of your boy, +under the name of Jolyon Forsyte, and will be duly-credited with +interest at 5 per cent. I hope that you are doing well. My +health remains good at present. + +'With love, I am, +'Your affectionate Father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +And every year on the 1st of January he had added a hundred and +the interest. The sum was mounting up--next New Year's Day it +would be fifteen hundred and odd pounds! And it is difficult to +say how much satisfaction he had got out of that yearly +transaction. But the correspondence had ended. + +In spite of his love for his son, in spite of an instinct, partly +constitutional, partly the result, as in thousands of his class, +of the continual handling and watching of affairs, prompting him +to judge conduct by results rather than by principle, there was +at the bottom of his heart a sort of uneasiness. His son ought, +under the circumstances, to have gone to the dogs; that law was +laid down in all the novels, sermons, and plays he had ever read, +heard, or witnessed. + +After receiving the cheque back there seemed to him to be +something wrong somewhere. Why had his son not gone to the +dogs? But, then, who could tell? + +He had heard, of course--in fact, he had made it his business +to find out--that Jo lived in St. John's Wood, that he had a +little house in Wistaria Avenue with a garden, and took his wife +about with him into society--a queer sort of society, no doubt-- +and that they had two children--the little chap they called Jolly +(considering the circumstances the name struck him as cynical, +and old Jolyon both feared and disliked cynicism), and a girl +called Holly, born since the marriage. Who could tell what his +son's circumstances really were? He had capitalized the income +he had inherited from his mother's father and joined Lloyd's as +an underwriter; he painted pictures, too--water-colours. Old +Jolyon knew this, for he had surreptitiously bought them from +time to time, after chancing to see his son's name signed at the +bottom of a representation of the river Thames in a dealer's +window. He thought them bad, and did not hang them because of +the signature; he kept them locked up in a drawer. + +In the great opera-house a terrible yearning came on him to see +his son. He remembered the days when he had been wont to slide +him, in a brown holland suit, to and fro under the arch of his +legs; the times when he ran beside the boy's pony, teaching him +to ride; the day he first took him to school. He had been a +loving, lovable little chap! After he went to Eton he had +acquired, perhaps, a little too much of that desirable manner +which old Jolyon knew was only to be obtained at such places and +at great expense; but he had always been companionable. Always a +companion, even after Cambridge--a little far off, perhaps, owing +to the advantages he had received. Old Jolyon's feeling towards +our public schools and 'Varsities never wavered, and he retained +touchingly his attitude of admiration and mistrust towards a +system appropriate to the highest in the land, of which he had +not himself been privileged to partake.... Now that June had +gone and left, or as good as left him, it would have been a +comfort to see his son again. Guilty of this treason to his +family, his principles, his class, old Jolyon fixed his eyes on +the singer. A poor thing--a wretched poor thing! And the +Florian a perfect stick! + +It was over. They were easily pleased nowadays! + +In the crowded street he snapped up a cab under the very nose of +a stout and much younger gentleman, who had already assumed it to +be his own. His route lay through Pall Mall, and at the corner, +instead of going through the Green Park, the cabman turned to +drive up St. James's Street. Old Jolyon put his hand through +the trap (he could not bear being taken out of his way); in +turning, however, he found himself opposite the 'Hotch Potch, ' +and the yearning that had been secretly with him the whole +evening prevailed. He called to the driver to stop. He would go +in and ask if Jo still belonged there. + +He went in. The hall looked exactly as it did when he used to +dine there with Jack Herring, and they had the best cook in +London; and he looked round with the shrewd, straight glance that +had caused him all his life to be better served than most men. + +"Mr. Jolyon Forsyte still a member here?" + +"Yes, sir; in the Club now, sir. What name?" + +Old Jolyon was taken aback. + +"His father," he said. + +And having spoken, he took his stand, back to the fireplace. + +Young Jolyon, on the point of leaving the Club, had put on his +hat, and was in the act of crossing the hall, as the porter met +him. He was no longer young, with hair going grey, and face--a +narrower replica of his father's, with the same large drooping +moustache--decidedly worn. He turned pale. This meeting was +terrible after all those years, for nothing in the world was so +terrible as a scene. They met and crossed hands without a word. +Then, with a quaver in his voice, the father said: + +"How are you, my boy?" + +The son answered: + +"How are you, Dad?" + +Old Jolyon's hand trembled in its thin lavender glove. + +"If you're going my way," he said, "I can give you a lift." + +And as though in the habit of taking each other home every night +they went out and stepped into the cab. + +To old Jolyon it seemed that his son had grown. 'More of a man +altogether,' was his comment. Over the natural amiability of +that son's face had come a rather sardonic mask, as though he had +found in the circumstances of his life the necessity for armour. +The features were certainly those of a Forsyte, but the expression +was more the introspective look of a student or philosopher. +He had no doubt been obliged to look into himself a good deal in +the course of those fifteen years. + +To young Jolyon the first sight of his father was undoubtedly a +shock--he looked so worn and old. But in the cab he seemed +hardly to have changed, still having the calm look so well +remembered, still being upright and keen-eyed. + +"You look well, Dad." + +"Middling," old Jolyon answered. + +He was the prey of an anxiety that he found he must put into +words. Having got his son back like this, he felt he must know +what was his financial position. + +"Jo," he said, "I should like to hear what sort of water you're +in. I suppose you're in debt?" + +He put it this way that his son might find it easier to confess. + +Young Jolyon answered in his ironical voice: + +"No! I'm not in debt!" + +Old Jolyon saw that he was angry, and touched his hand. He had +run a risk. It was worth it, however, and Jo had never been +sulky with him. They drove on, without speaking again, to +Stanhope Gate. Old Jolyon invited him in, but young Jolyon shook +his head. + +"June's not here," said his father hastily: "went of to-day on a +visit. I suppose you know that she's engaged to be married?" + +"Already?" murmured young Jolyon'. + +Old Jolyon stepped out, and, in paying the cab fare, for the +first time in his life gave the driver a sovereign in mistake for +a shilling. + +Placing the coin in his mouth, the cabman whipped his horse +secretly on the underneath and hurried away. + +Old Jolyon turned the key softly in the lock, pushed open the +door, and beckoned. His son saw him gravely hanging up his coat, +with an expression on his face like that of a boy who intends to +steal cherries. + +The door of the dining-room was open, the gas turned low; a +spirit-urn hissed on a tea-tray, and close to it a cynical +looking cat had fallen asleep on the dining-table. Old Jolyon +'shoo'd' her off at once. The incident was a relief to his +feelings; he rattled his opera hat behind the animal. + +"She's got fleas," he said, following her out of the room. +Through the door in the hall leading to the basement he called +"Hssst!" several times, as though assisting the cat's departure, +till by some strange coincidence the butler appeared below. + +"You can go to bed, Parfitt," said old Jolyon. "I will lock up +and put out." + +When he again entered the dining-room the cat unfortunately +preceded him, with her tail in the air, proclaiming that she had +seen through this manouevre for suppressing the butler from the +first.... + +A fatality had dogged old Jolyon's domestic stratagems all his +life. + +Young Jolyon could not help smiling. He was very well versed in +irony, and everything that evening seemed to him ironical. The +episode of the cat; the announcement of his own daughter's +engagement. So he had no more part or parcel in her than he had +in the Puss! And the poetical justice of this appealed to him. + +"What is June like now?" he asked. + +"She's a little thing," returned old Jolyon; they say she's like +me, but that's their folly. She's more like your mother--the +same eyes and hair." + +"Ah! and she is pretty?" + +Old Jolyon was too much of a Forsyte to praise anything freely; +especially anything for which he had a genuine admiration. + +"Not bad looking--a regular Forsyte chin. It'll be lonely here +when she's gone, Jo." + +The look on his face again gave young Jolyon the shock he had +felt on first seeing his father. + +"What will you do with yourself, Dad? I suppose she's wrapped up +in him?" + +"Do with myself?" repeated old Jolyon with an angry break in his +voice. "It'll be miserable work living here alone. I don't know +how it's to end. I wish to goodness...." He checked himself, and +added: "The question is, what had I better do with this house?" + +Young Jolyon looked round the room. It was peculiarly vast and +dreary, decorated with the enormous pictures of still life that +he remembered as a boy--sleeping dogs with their noses resting on +bunches of carrots, together with onions and grapes lying side by +side in mild surprise. The house was a white elephant, but he +could not conceive of his father living in a smaller place; and +all the more did it all seem ironical. + +In his great chair with the book-rest sat old Jolyon, the +figurehead of his family and class and creed, with his white head +and dome-like forehead, the representative of moderation, and +order, and love of property. As lonely an old man as there was +in London. + +There he sat in the gloomy comfort of the room, a puppet in the +power of great forces that cared nothing for family or class or +creed, but moved, machine-like, with dread processes to +inscrutable ends. This was how it struck young Jolyon, who had +the impersonal eye. + +The poor old Dad! So this was the end, the purpose to which he +had lived with such magnificent moderation! To be lonely, and +grow older and older, yearning for a soul to speak to! + +In his turn old Jolyon looked back at his son. He wanted to talk +about many things that he had been unable to talk about all these +years. It had been impossible to seriously confide in June his +conviction that property in the Soho quarter would go up in +value; his uneasiness about that tremendous silence of Pippin, +the superintendent of the New Colliery Company, of which he had +so long been chairman; his disgust at the steady fall in American +Golgothas, or even to discuss how, by some sort of settlement, he +could best avoid the payment of those death duties which would +follow his decease. Under the influence, however, of a cup of +tea, which he seemed to stir indefinitely, he began to speak at +last. A new vista of life was thus opened up, a promised land of +talk, where he could find a harbour against the waves of +anticipation and regret; where he could soothe his soul with the +opium of devising how to round off his property and make eternal +the only part of him that was to remain alive. + +Young Jolyon was a good listener; it was his great quality. He +kept his eyes fixed on his father's face, putting a question now +and then. + +The clock struck one before old Jolyon had finished, and at the +sound of its striking his principles came back. He took out his +watch with a look of surprise: + +"I must go to bed, Jo," he said. + +Young Jolyon rose and held out his hand to help his father up. +The old face looked worn and hollow again; the eyes were steadily +averted. + +"Good-bye, my boy; take care of yourself." + +A moment passed, and young Jolyon, turning on his, heel, marched +out at the door. He could hardly see; his smile quavered. Never +in all the fifteen years since he had first found out that life +was no simple business, had he found it so singularly +complicated. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +DINNER AT SWITHIN'S + + +In Swithin's orange and light-blue dining-room, facing the Park, +the round table was laid for twelve. + +A cut-glass chandelier filled with lighted candles hung like a +giant stalactite above its centre, radiating over large +gilt-framed mirrors, slabs of marble on the tops of side-tables, +and heavy gold chairs with crewel worked seats. Everything +betokened that love of beauty so deeply implanted in each family +which has had its own way to make into Society, out of the more +vulgar heart of Nature. Swithin had indeed an impatience of +simplicity, a love of ormolu, which had always stamped him +amongst his associates as a man of great, if somewhat luxurious +taste; and out of the knowledge that no one could possibly enter +his rooms without perceiving him to be a man of wealth, he had +derived a solid and prolonged happiness such as perhaps no other +circumstance in life had afforded him. + +Since his retirement from land agency, a profession deplorable in +his estimation, especially as to its auctioneering department, he +had abandoned himself to naturally aristocratic tastes. + +The perfect luxury of his latter days had embedded him like a fly +in sugar; and his mind, where very little took place from morning +till night, was the junction of two curiously opposite emotions, +a lingering and sturdy satisfaction that he had made his own way +and his own fortune, and a sense that a man of his distinction +should never have been allowed to soil his mind with work. + +He stood at the sideboard in a white waistcoat with large gold +and onyx buttons, watching his valet screw the necks of three +champagne bottles deeper into ice-pails. Between the points of +his stand-up collar, which--though it hurt him to move--he would +on no account have had altered, the pale flesh of his under chin +remained immovable. His eyes roved from bottle to bottle. He +was debating, and he argued like this: Jolyon drinks a glass, +perhaps two, he's so careful of himself. James, he can't take +his wine nowadays. Nicholas--Fanny and he would swill water he +shouldn't wonder! Soames didn't count; these young nephews-- +Soames was thirty-one--couldn't drink! But Bosinney? + +Encountering in the name of this stranger something outside the +range of his philosophy, Swithin paused. A misgiving arose +within him! It was impossible to tell! June was only a girl, in +love too! Emily (Mrs. James) liked a good glass of champagne. +It was too dry for Juley, poor old soul, she had no palate. As +to Hatty Chessman! The thought of this old friend caused a cloud +of thought to obscure the perfect glassiness of his eyes: He +shouldn't wonder if she drank half a bottle! + +But in thinking of his remaining guest, an expression like that +of a cat who is just going to purr stole over his old face: Mrs. +Soames! She mightn't take much, but she would appreciate what +she drank; it was a pleasure to give her good wine! A pretty +woman--and sympathetic to him! + +The thought of her was like champagne itself! A pleasure to give +a good wine to a young woman who looked so well, who knew how to +dress, with charming manners, quite distinguished--a pleasure to +entertain her. Between the points of his collar he gave his head +the first small, painful oscillation of the evening. + +"Adolf!" he said. "Put in another bottle." + +He himself might drink a good deal, for, thanks to that +prescription of Blight's, he found himself extremely well, and he +had been careful to take no lunch. He had not felt so well for +weeks. Puffing out his lower lip, he gave his last instructions: + +"Adolf, the least touch of the West India when you come to the +ham." + +Passing into the anteroom, he sat down on the edge of a chair, +with his knees apart; and his tall, bulky form was wrapped at +once in an expectant, strange, primeval immobility. He was ready +to rise at a moment's notice. He had not given a dinner-party +for months. This dinner in honour of June's engagement had +seemed a bore at first (among Forsytes the custom of solemnizing +engagements by feasts was religiously observed), but the labours +of sending invitations and ordering the repast over, he felt +pleasantly stimulated. + +And thus sitting, a watch in his hand, fat, and smooth, and +golden, like a flattened globe of butter, he thought of nothing. + +A long man, with side whiskers, who had once been in Swithin's +service, but was now a greengrocer, entered and proclaimed: + +"Mrs. Chessman, Mrs. Septimus Small!" + +Two ladies advanced. The one in front, habited entirely in red, +had large, settled patches of the same colour in her cheeks, and +a hard, dashing eye. She walked at Swithin, holding out a hand +cased in a long, primrose-coloured glove: + +"Well! Swithin," she said, "I haven't seen you for ages. How are +you? Why, my dear boy, how stout you're getting!" + +The fixity of Swithin's eye alone betrayed emotion. A dumb and +grumbling anger swelled his bosom. It was vulgar to be stout, to +talk of being stout; he had a chest, nothing more. Turning to +his sister, he grasped her hand, and said in a tone of command: + +"Well, Juley." + +Mrs. Septimus Small was the tallest of the four sisters; her +good, round old face had gone a little sour; an innumerable pout +clung all over it, as if it had been encased in an iron wire mask +up to that evening, which, being suddenly removed, left little +rolls of mutinous flesh all over her countenance. Even her eyes +were pouting. It was thus that she recorded her permanent +resentment at the loss of Septimus Small. + +She had quite a reputation for saying the wrong thing, and, +tenacious like all her breed, she would hold to it when she had +said it, and add to it another wrong thing, and so on. With the +decease of her husband the family tenacity, the family +matter-of-factness, had gone sterile within her. A great talker, +when allowed, she would converse without the faintest animation +for hours together, relating, with epic monotony, the innumerable +occasions on which Fortune had misused her; nor did she ever +perceive that her hearers sympathized with Fortune, for her +heart was kind. + +Having sat, poor soul, long by the bedside of Small (a man of +poor constitution), she had acquired, the habit, and there were +countless subsequent occasions when she had sat immense periods +of time to amuse sick people, children, and other helpless +persons, and she could never divest herself of the feeling that +the world was the most ungrateful place anybody could live in. +Sunday after Sunday she sat at the feet of that extremely witty +preacher, the Rev. Thomas Scoles, who exercised a great +influence over her; but she succeeded in convincing everybody +that even this was a misfortune. She had passed into a proverb +in the family, and when anybody was observed to be peculiarly +distressing, he was known as a regular 'Juley.' The habit of her +mind would have killed anybody but a Forsyte at forty; but she +was seventy-two, and had never looked better. And one felt that +there were capacities for enjoyment about her which might yet +come out. She owned three canaries, the cat Tommy, and half a +parrot--in common with her sister Hester;--and these poor +creatures (kept carefully out of Timothy's way--he was nervous +about animals), unlike human beings, recognising that she could +not help being blighted, attached themselves to her passionately. + +She was sombrely magnificent this evening in black bombazine, +with a mauve front cut in a shy triangle, and crowned with a +black velvet ribbon round the base of her thin throat; black and +mauve for evening wear was esteemed very chaste by nearly every +Forsyte. + +Pouting at Swithin, she said: + +"Ann has been asking for you. You haven't been near us for an +age!" + +Swithin put his thumbs within the armholes of his waistcoat, and +replied: + +"Ann's getting very shaky; she ought to have a doctor!" + +"Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Forsyte!" + +Nicholas Forsyte, cocking his rectangular eyebrows, wore a smile. +He had succeeded during the day in bringing to fruition a scheme +for the employment of a tribe from Upper India in the gold-mines +of Ceylon. A pet plan, carried at last in the teeth of great +difficulties--he was justly pleased. It would double the output +of his mines, and, as he had often forcibly argued, all +experience tended to show that a man must die; and whether he +died of a miserable old age in his own country, or prematurely of +damp in the bottom of a foreign mine, was surely of little +consequence, provided that by a change in his mode of life he +benefited the British Empire. + +His ability was undoubted. Raising his broken nose towards his +listener, he would add: + +"For want of a few hundred of these fellows we haven't paid a +dividend for years, and look at the price of the shares. I can't +get ten shillings for them." + +He had been at Yarmouth, too, and had come back feeling that he +had added at least ten years to his own life. He grasped +Swithin's hand, exclaiming in a jocular voice: + +"Well, so here we are again!" + +Mrs. Nicholas, an effete woman, smiled a smile of frightened +jollity behind his back. + +"Mr. and Mrs. James Forsyte! Mr. and Mrs. Soames Forsyte!" + +Swithin drew his heels together, his deportment ever admirable. + +"Well, James, well Emily! How are you, Soames? How do you do?" + +His hand enclosed Irene's, and his eyes swelled. She was a +pretty woman--a little too pale, but her figure, her eyes, her +teeth! Too good for that chap Soames! + +The gods had given Irene dark brown eyes and golden hair, that +strange combination, provocative of men's glances, which is said +to be the mark of a weak character. And the full, soft pallor of +her neck and shoulders, above a gold-coloured frock, gave to her +personality an alluring strangeness. + +Soames stood behind, his eyes fastened on his wife's neck. The +hands of Swithin's watch, which he still held open in his hand, +had left eight behind; it was half an hour beyond his +dinner-time--he had had no lunch--and a strange primeval +impatience surged up within him. + +"It's not like Jolyon to be late!" he said to Irene, with +uncontrollable vexation. "I suppose it'll be June keeping him!" + +"People in love are always late," she answered. + +Swithin stared at her; a dusky orange dyed his cheeks. + +"They've no business to be. Some fashionable nonsense!" + +And behind this outburst the inarticulate violence of primitive +generations seemed to mutter and grumble. + +"Tell me what you think of my new star, Uncle Swithin," said +Irene softly. + +Among the lace in the bosom of her dress was shining a +five-pointed star, made of eleven diamonds. Swithin looked at +the star. He had a pretty taste in stones; no question could +have been more sympathetically devised to distract his attention. + +"Who gave you that?" he asked. + +"Soames." + +There was no change in her face, but Swithin's pale eyes bulged +as though he might suddenly have been afflicted with insight. + +"I dare say you're dull at home," he said. "Any day you like to +come and dine with me, I'll give you as good a bottle of wine as +you'll get in London." + +"Miss June Forsyte--Mr. Jolyon Forsyte!... Mr. Boswainey!..." + +Swithin moved his arm, and said in a rumbling voice: + +"Dinner, now--dinner!" + +He took in Irene, on the ground that he had not entertained her +since she was a bride. June was the portion of Bosinney, who was +placed between Irene and his fiancee. On the other side of June +was James with Mrs. Nicholas, then old Jolyon with Mrs. James, +Nicholas with Hatty Chessman, Soames with Mrs. Small, completing, +the circle to Swithin again. + +Family dinners of the Forsytes observe certain traditions. There +are, for instance, no hors d'oeuvre. The reason for this is +unknown. Theory among the younger members traces it to the +disgraceful price of oysters; it is more probably due to a desire +to come to the point, to a good practical sense deciding at once +that hors d'oeuvre are but poor things. The Jameses alone, +unable to withstand a custom almost universal in Park Lane, are +now and then unfaithful. + +A silent, almost morose, inattention to each other succeeds to +the subsidence into their seats, lasting till well into the first +entree, but interspersed with remarks such as, "Tom's bad again; +I can't tell what's the matter with him!" "I suppose Ann doesn't +come down in the mornings?"--"What's the name of your doctor, +Fanny?" "Stubbs?" "He's a quack!"--"Winifred? She's got too many +children. Four, isn't it? She's as thin as a lath!"--"What +d'you give for this sherry, Swithin? Too dry for me!" + +With the second glass of champagne, a kind of hum makes itself +heard, which, when divested of casual accessories and resolved +into its primal element, is found to be James telling a story, +and this goes on for a long time, encroaching sometimes even upon +what must universally be recognised as the crowning point of a +Forsyte feast--'the saddle of mutton.' + +No Forsyte has given a dinner without providing a saddle of +mutton. There is something in its succulent solidity which makes +it suitable to people 'of a certain position.' It is nourishing +and tasty; the sort of thing a man remembers eating. It has a +past and a future, like a deposit paid into a bank; and it is +something that can be argued about. + +Each branch of the family tenaciously held to a particular +locality--old Jolyon swearing by Dartmoor, James by Welsh, +Swithin by Southdown, Nicholas maintaining that people might +sneer, but there was nothing like New Zealand! As for Roger, the +'original' of the brothers, he had been obliged to invent a +locality of his own, and with an ingenuity worthy of a man who +had devised a new profession for his sons, he had discovered a +shop where they sold German; on being remonstrated with, he had +proved his point by producing a butcher's bill, which showed that +he paid more than any of the others. It was on this occasion +that old Jolyon, turning to June, had said in one of his bursts +of philosophy: + +"You may depend upon it, they're a cranky lot, the Forsytes--and +you'll find it out, as you grow older!" + +Timothy alone held apart, for though he ate saddle of mutton +heartily, he was, he said, afraid of it. + +To anyone interested psychologically in Forsytes, this great +saddle-of-mutton trait is of prime importance; not only does it +illustrate their tenacity, both collectively and as individuals, +but it marks them as belonging in fibre and instincts to that +great class which believes in nourishment and flavour, and yields +to no sentimental craving for beauty. + +Younger members of the family indeed would have done without a +joint altogether, preferring guinea-fowl, or lobster salad-- +something which appealed to the imagination, and had less +nourishment--but these were females; or, if not, had been +corrupted by their wives, or by mothers, who having been forced +to eat saddle of mutton throughout their married lives, had +passed a secret hostility towards it into the fibre of their +sons. + +The great saddle-of-mutton controversy at an end, a Tewkesbury +ham commenced, together with the least touch of West Indian-- +Swithin was so long over this course that he caused a block in +the progress of the dinner. To devote himself to it with better +heart, he paused in his conversation. + +From his seat by Mrs. Septimus Small Soames was watching. He had +a reason of his own connected with a pet building scheme, for +observing Bosinney. The architect might do for his purpose; he +looked clever, as he sat leaning back in his chair, moodily +making little ramparts with bread-crumbs. Soames noted his dress +clothes to be well cut, but too small, as though made many years +ago. + +He saw him turn to Irene and say something and her face sparkle +as he often saw it sparkle at other people--never at himself. He +tried to catch what they were saying, but Aunt Juley was +speaking. + +Hadn't that always seemed very extraordinary to Soames? Only +last Sunday dear Mr. Scole, had been so witty in his sermon, so +sarcastic, "For what," he had said, "shall it profit a man if he +gain his own soul, but lose all his property?" That, he had +said, was the motto of the middle-class; now, what had he meant +by that? Of course, it might be what middle-class people +believed--she didn't know; what did Soames think? + +He answered abstractedly: "How should I know? Scoles is a +humbug, though, isn't he?" For Bosinney was looking round the +table, as if pointing out the peculiarities of the guests, and +Soames wondered what he was saying. By her smile Irene was +evidently agreeing with his remarks. She seemed always to agree +with other people. + +Her eyes were turned on himself; Soames dropped his glance at +once. The smile had died off her lips. + +A humbug? But what did Soames mean? If Mr. Scoles was a humbug, +a clergyman--then anybody might be--it was frightful! + +"Well, and so they are!" said Soames. + +During Aunt Juley's momentary and horrified silence he caught +some words of Irene's that sounded like: 'Abandon hope, all ye +who enter here!' + +But Swithin had finished his ham. + +"Where do you go for your mushrooms?" he was saying to Irene in a +voice like a courtier's; "you ought to go to Smileybob's--he'll +give 'em you fresh. These little men, they won't take the +trouble!" + +Irene turned to answer him, and Soames saw Bosinney watching her +and smiling to himself. A curious smile the fellow had. A +half-simple arrangement, like a child who smiles when he is +pleased. As for George's nickname--'The Buccaneer'--he did not +think much of that. And, seeing Bosinney turn to June, Soames +smiled too, but sardonically--he did not like June, who was not +looking too pleased. + +This was not surprising, for she had just held the following +conversation with James: + +"I stayed on the river on my way home, Uncle James, and saw a +beautiful site for a house." + +James, a slow and thorough eater, stopped the process of +mastication. + +"Eh?" he said. "Now, where was that?" + +"Close to Pangbourne." + +James placed a piece of ham in his mouth, and June waited. + +"I suppose you wouldn't know whether the land about there was +freehold?" he asked at last. "You wouldn't know anything about +the price of land about there?" + +"Yes," said June; "I made inquiries." Her little resolute face +under its copper crown was suspiciously eager and aglow. + +James regarded her with the air of an inquisitor. + +"What? You're not thinking of buying land!" he ejaculated, +dropping his fork. + +June was greatly encouraged by his interest. It had long been +her pet plan that her uncles should benefit themselves and +Bosinney by building country-houses. + +"Of course not," she said. "I thought it would be such a +splendid place for--you or--someone to build a country-house!" + +James looked at her sideways, and placed a second piece of ham in +his mouth.... + +"Land ought to be very dear about there," he said. + +What June had taken for personal interest was only the impersonal +excitement of every Forsyte who hears of something eligible in +danger of passing into other hands. But she refused to see the +disappearance of her chance, and continued to press her point. + +"You ought to go into the country, Uncle James. I wish I had a +lot of money, I wouldn't live another day in London." + +James was stirred to the depths of his long thin figure; he had +no idea his niece held such downright views. + +"Why don't you go into the country?" repeated June; "it would do +you a lot of good." + +"Why?" began James in a fluster. "Buying land--what good d'you +suppose I can do buying land, building houses?--I couldn't get +four per cent. for my money!" + +"What does that matter? You'd get fresh air." + +"Fresh air!" exclaimed James; "what should I do with fresh air," + +"I should have thought anybody liked to have fresh air," said +June scornfully. + +James wiped his napkin all over his mouth. + +"You don't know the value of money," he said, avoiding her eye. + +"No! and I hope I never shall!" and, biting her lip with +inexpressible mortification, poor June was silent. + +Why were her own relations so rich, and Phil never knew where the +money was coming from for to-morrow's tobacco. Why couldn't they +do something for him? But they were so selfish. Why couldn't +they build country-houses? She had all that naive dogmatism +which is so pathetic, and sometimes achieves such great results. +Bosinney, to whom she turned in her discomfiture, was talking to +Irene, and a chill fell on June's spirit. Her eyes grew steady +with anger, like old Jolyon's when his will was crossed. + +James, too, was much disturbed. He felt as though someone had +threatened his right to invest his money at five per cent. +Jolyon had spoiled her. None of his girls would have said such a +thing. James had always been exceedingly liberal to his +children, and the consciousness of this made him feel it all the +more deeply. He trifled moodily with his strawberries, then, +deluging them with cream, he ate them quickly; they, at all +events, should not escape him. + +No wonder he was upset. Engaged for fifty-four years (he had +been admitted a solicitor on the earliest day sanctioned by the +law) in arranging mortgages, preserving investments at a dead +level of high and safe interest, conducting negotiations on the +principle of securing the utmost possible out of other people +compatible with safety to his clients and himself, in +calculations as to the exact pecuniary possibilities of all the +relations of life, he had come at last to think purely in terms +of money. Money was now his light, his medium for seeing, that +without which he was really unable to see, really not cognisant +of phenomena; and to have this thing, "I hope I shall never know +the value of money!" said to his face, saddened and exasperated +him. He knew it to be nonsense, or it would have frightened him. +What was the world coming to! Suddenly recollecting the story of +young Jolyon, however, he felt a little comforted, for what could +you expect with a father like that! This turned his thoughts +into a channel still less pleasant. What was all this talk about +Soames and Irene? + +As in all self-respecting families, an emporium had been +established where family secrets were bartered, and family stock +priced. It was known on Forsyte 'Change that Irene regretted her +marriage. Her regret was disapproved of. She ought to have +known her own mind; no dependable woman made these mistakes. + +James reflected sourly that they had a nice house (rather small) +in an excellent position, no children, and no money troubles. +Soames was reserved about his affairs, but he must be getting a +very warm man. He had a capital income from the business--for +Soames, like his father, was a member of that well-known firm of +solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte--and had always been very +careful. He had done quite unusually well with some mortgages he +had taken up, too--a little timely foreclosure--most lucky hits! + +There was no reason why Irene should not be happy, yet they said +she'd been asking for a separate room. He knew where that ended. +It wasn't as if Soames drank. + +James looked at his daughter-in-law. That unseen glance of his +was cold and dubious. Appeal and fear were in it, and a sense of +personal grievance. Why should he be worried like this? It was +very likely all nonsense; women were funny things! They +exaggerated so, you didn't know what to believe; and then, nobody +told him anything, he had to find out everything for himself. +Again he looked furtively at Irene, and across from her to +Soames. The latter, listening to Aunt Juley, was looking up, +under his brows in the direction of Bosinney. + +'He's fond of her, I know,' thought James. 'Look at the way he's +always giving her things.' + +And the extraordinary unreasonableness of her disaffection struck +him with increased force. + +It was a pity, too, she was a taking little thing, and he, James, +would be really quite fond of her if she'd only let him. She had +taken up lately with June; that was doing her no good, that was +certainly doing her no good. She was getting to have opinions of +her own. He didn't know what she wanted with anything of the +sort. She'd a good home, and everything she could wish for. He +felt that her friends ought to be chosen for her. To go on like +this was dangerous. + +June, indeed, with her habit of championing the unfortunate, had +dragged from Irene a confession, and, in return, had preached the +necessity of facing the evil, by separation, if need be. But in +the face of these exhortations, Irene had kept a brooding silence, +as though she found terrible the thought of this struggle carried +through in cold blood. He would never give her up, she had said +to June. + +"Who cares?" June cried; "let him do what he likes--you've only +to stick to it!" And she had not scrupled to say something of +this sort at Timothy's; James, when he heard of it, had felt a +natural indignation and horror. + +What if Irene were to take it into her head to--he could hardly +frame the thought--to leave Soames? But he felt this thought so +unbearable that he at once put it away; the shady visions it +conjured up, the sound of family tongues buzzing in his ears, the +horror of the conspicuous happening so close to him, to one of +his own children! Luckily, she had no money--a beggarly fifty +pound a year! And he thought of the deceased Heron, who had had +nothing to leave her, with contempt. Brooding over his glass, +his long legs twisted under the table, he quite omitted to rise +when the ladies left the room. He would have to speak to Soames- +-would have to put him on his guard; they could not go on like +this, now that such a contingency had occurred to him. And he +noticed with sour disfavour that June had left her wine-glasses +full of wine. + +'That little, thing's at the bottom of it all,' he mused; +'Irene'd never have thought of it herself.' James was a man of +imagination. + +The voice of Swithin roused him from his reverie. + +"I gave four hundred pounds for it," he was saying. "Of course +it's a regular work of art." + +"Four hundred! H'm! that's a lot of money!" chimed in Nicholas. + +The object alluded to was an elaborate group of statuary in +Italian marble, which, placed upon a lofty stand (also of +marble), diffused an atmosphere of culture throughout the room. +The subsidiary figures, of which there were six, female, nude, +and of highly ornate workmanship, were all pointing towards the +central figure, also nude, and female, who was pointing at +herself; and all this gave the observer a very pleasant sense of +her extreme value. Aunt Juley, nearly opposite, had had the +greatest difficulty in not looking at it all the evening. + +Old Jolyon spoke; it was he who had started the discussion. + +"Four hundred fiddlesticks! Don't tell me you gave four hundred +for that?" + +Between the points of his collar Swithin's chin made the second +painful oscillatory movement of the evening. + +"Four-hundred-pounds, of English money; not a farthing less. I +don't regret it. It's not common English--it's genuine modern +Italian!" + +Soames raised the corner of his lip in a smile, and looked across +at Bosinney. The architect was grinning behind the fumes of his +cigarette. Now, indeed, he looked more like a buccaneer. + +"There's a lot of work about it," remarked James hastily, who was +really moved by the size of the group. "It'd sell well at +Jobson's." + +"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it," went on Swithin," asked +me five hundred--I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked +half-starved, poor dey-vil! + +"Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, +these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live. Now, there's +young Flageoletti, that Fanny and the girls are always hav'in' +in, to play the fiddle; if he makes a hundred a year it's as much +as ever he does!" + +James shook his head. "Ah!" he said, "I don't know how they +live!" + +Old Jolyon had risen, and, cigar in mouth, went to inspect the +group at close quarters. + +"Wouldn't have given two for it!" he pronounced at last. + +Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance at each other +anxiously; and, on the other side of Swithin, Bosinney, still +shrouded in smoke. + +'I wonder what he thinks of it?' thought Soames, who knew well +enough that this group was hopelessly vieux jeu; hopelessly of +the last generation. There was no longer any sale at Jobson's +for such works of art. + +Swithin's answer came at last. "You never knew anything about a +statue. You've got your pictures, and that's all!" + +Old Jolyon walked back to his seat, puffing his cigar. It was +not likely that he was going to be drawn into an argument with an +obstinate beggar like Swithin, pig-headed as a mule, who had +never known a statue from a---straw hat. + +"Stucco!" was all he said. + +It had long been physically impossible for Swithin to start; his +fist came down on the table. + +"Stucco! I should like to see anything you've got in your house +half as good!" + +And behind his speech seemed to sound again that rumbling +violence of primitive generations. + +It was James who saved the situation. + +"Now, what do you say, Mr. Bosinney? You're an architect; you +ought to know all about statues and things!" + +Every eye was turned upon Bosinney; all waited with a strange, +suspicious look for his answer. + +And Soames, speaking for the first time, asked: + +"Yes, Bosinney, what do you say?" + +Bosinney replied coolly: + +"The work is a remarkable one." + +His words were addressed to Swithin, his eyes smiled slyly at old +Jolyon; only Soames remained unsatisfied. + +"Remarkable for what?" + +"For its naivete" + +The answer was followed by an impressive silence; Swithin alone +was not sure whether a compliment was intended. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PROJECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +Soames Forsyte walked out of his green-painted front door three +days after the dinner at Swithin's, and looking back from across +the Square, confirmed his impression that the house wanted +painting. + +He had left his wife sitting on the sofa in the drawing-room, her +hands crossed in her lap, manifestly waiting for him to go out. +This was not unusual. It happened, in fact, every day. + +He could not understand what she found wrong with him. It was +not as if he drank! Did he run into debt, or gamble, or swear; +was he violent; were his friends rackety; did he stay out at +night? On the contrary. + +The profound, subdued aversion which he felt in his wife was a +mystery to him, and a source of the most terrible irritation. +That she had made a mistake, and did not love him, had tried to +love him and could not love him, was obviously no reason. + +He that could imagine so outlandish a cause for his wife's not +getting on with him was certainly no Forsyte. + +Soames was forced, therefore, to set the blame entirely down to +his wife. He had never met a woman so capable of inspiring +affection. They could not go anywhere without his seeing how all +the men were attracted by her; their looks, manners, voices, +betrayed it; her behaviour under this attention had been beyond +reproach. That she was one of those women--not too common in the +Anglo-Saxon race--born to be loved and to love, who when not +loving are not living, had certainly never even occurred to him. +Her power of attraction, he regarded as part of her value as his +property; but it made him, indeed, suspect that she could give as +well as receive; and she gave him nothing! 'Then why did she +marry me?' was his continual thought. He had, forgotten his +courtship; that year and a half when he had besieged and lain in +wait for her, devising schemes for her entertainment, giving her +presents, proposing to her periodically, and keeping her other +admirers away with his perpetual presence. He had forgotten the +day when, adroitly taking advantage of an acute phase of her +dislike to her home surroundings, he crowned his labours with +success. If he remembered anything, it was the dainty +capriciousness with which the gold-haired, dark-eyed girl had +treated him. He certainly did not remember the look on her face- +-strange, passive, appealing--when suddenly one day she had +yielded, and said that she would marry him. + +It had been one of those real devoted wooings which books and +people praise, when the lover is at length rewarded for hammering +the iron till it is malleable, and all must be happy ever after +as the wedding bells. + +Soames walked eastwards, mousing doggedly along on the shady +side. + +The house wanted doing, up, unless he decided to move into the +country, and build. + +For the hundredth time that month he turned over this problem. +There was no use in rushing into things! He was very comfortably +off, with an increasing income getting on for three thousand a +year; but his invested capital was not perhaps so large as his +father believed--James had a tendency to expect that his children +should be better off than they were. 'I can manage eight +thousand easily enough,' he thought, 'without calling in either + +Robertson's or Nicholl's.' + +He had stopped to look in at a picture shop, for Soames was an +'amateur' of pictures, and had a little-room in No. 62, +Montpellier Square, full of canvases, stacked against the wall, +which he had no room to hang. He brought them home with him on +his way back from the City, generally after dark, and would enter +this room on Sunday afternoons, to spend hours turning the +pictures to the light, examining the marks on their backs, and +occasionally making notes. + +They were nearly all landscapes with figures in the foreground, a +sign of some mysterious revolt against London, its tall houses, +its interminable streets, where his life and the lives of his +breed and class were passed. Every now and then he would take +one or two pictures away with him in a cab, and stop at Jobson's +on his way into the City. + +He rarely showed them to anyone; Irene, whose opinion he secretly +respected and perhaps for that reason never solicited, had only +been into the room on rare occasions, in discharge of some wifely +duty. She was not asked to look at the pictures, and she never +did. To Soames this was another grievance. He hated that pride +of hers, and secretly dreaded it. + +In the plate-glass window of the picture shop his image stood and +looked at him. + +His sleek hair under the brim of the tall hat had a sheen like +the hat itself; his cheeks, pale and flat, the line of his +clean-shaven lips, his firm chin with its greyish shaven tinge, +and the buttoned strictness of his black cut-away coat, conveyed +an appearance of reserve and secrecy, of imperturbable, enforced +composure; but his eyes, cold,--grey, strained--looking, with a +line in the brow between them, examined him wistfully, as if they +knew of a secret weakness. + +He noted the subjects of the pictures, the names of the painters, +made a calculation of their values, but without the satisfaction +he usually derived from this inward appraisement, and walked on. + +No. 62 would do well enough for another year, if he decided to +build! The times were good for building, money had not been so +dear for years; and the site he had seen at Robin Hill, when he +had gone down there in the spring to inspect the Nicholl +mortgage--what could be better! Within twelve miles of Hyde Park +Corner, the value of the land certain to go up, would always +fetch more than he gave for it; so that a house, if built in +really good style, was a first-class investment. + +The notion of being the one member of his family with a country +house weighed but little with him; for to a true Forsyte, +sentiment, even the sentiment of social position, was a luxury +only to be indulged in after his appetite for more material +pleasure had been satisfied. + +To get Irene out of London, away from opportunities of going +about and seeing people, away from her friends and those who put +ideas into her head! That was the thing! She was too thick with +June! June disliked him. He returned the sentiment. They were +of the same blood. + +It would be everything to get Irene out of town. The house would +please her she would enjoy messing about with the decoration, she +was very artistic! + +The house must be in good style, something that would always be +certain to command a price, something unique, like that last +house of Parkes, which had a tower; but Parkes had himself said +that his architect was ruinous. You never knew where you were +with those fellows; if they had a name they ran you into no end +of expense and were conceited into the bargain. + +And a common architect was no good--the memory of Parkes' tower +precluded the employment of a common architect: + +This was why he had thought of Bosinney. Since the dinner at +Swithin's he had made enquiries, the result of which had been +meagre, but encouraging: "One of the new school." + +"Clever?" + +"As clever as you like--a bit--a bit up in the air!" + +He had not been able to discover what houses Bosinney had built, +nor what his charges were. The impression he gathered was that +he would be able to make his own terms. The more he reflected on +the idea, the more he liked it. It would be keeping the thing in +the family, with Forsytes almost an instinct; and he would be +able to get 'favoured-nation,' if not nominal terms--only fair, +considering the chance to Bosinney of displaying his talents, for +this house must be no common edifice. + +Soames reflected complacently on the work it would be sure to +bring the young man; for, like every Forsyte, he could be a +thorough optimist when there was anything to be had out of it. + +Bosinney's office was in Sloane Street, close at, hand, so that +he would be able to keep his eye continually on the plans. + +Again, Irene would not be to likely to object to leave London if +her greatest friend's lover were given the job. June's marriage +might depend on it. Irene could not decently stand in the way of +June's marriage; she would never do that, he knew her too well. +And June would be pleased; of this he saw the advantage. + +Bosinney looked clever, but he had also--and--it was one of his +great attractions--an air as if he did not quite know on which +side his bread were buttered; he should be easy to deal with in +money matters. Soames made this reflection in no defrauding +spirit; it was the natural attitude of his mind--of the mind of +any good business man--of all those thousands of good business +men through whom he was threading his way up Ludgate Hill. + +Thus he fulfilled the inscrutable laws of his great class--of +human nature itself--when he reflected, with a sense of comfort, +that Bosinney would be easy to deal with in money matters. + +While he elbowed his way on, his eyes, which he usually kept +fixed on the ground before his feet, were attracted upwards by +the dome of St. Paul's. It had a peculiar fascination for him, +that old dome, and not once, but twice or three times a week, +would he halt in his daily pilgrimage to enter beneath and stop +in the side aisles for five or ten minutes, scrutinizing the +names and epitaphs on the monuments. The attraction for him of +this great church was inexplicable, unless it enabled him to +concentrate his thoughts on the business of the day. If any +affair of particular moment, or demanding peculiar acuteness, was +weighing on his mind, he invariably went in, to wander with +mouse-like attention from epitaph to epitaph. Then retiring in +the same noiseless way, he would hold steadily on up Cheapside, a +thought more of dogged purpose in his gait, as though he had seen +something which he had made up his mind to buy. + +He went in this morning, but, instead of stealing from monument +to monument, turned his eyes upwards to the columns and spacings +of the walls, and remained motionless. + +His uplifted face, with the awed and wistful look which faces +take on themselves in church, was whitened to a chalky hue in the +vast building. His gloved hands were clasped in front over the +handle of his umbrella. He lifted them. Some sacred inspiration +perhaps had come to him. + +'Yes,' he thought, 'I must have room to hang my pictures. + +That evening, on his return from the City, he called at +Bosinney's office. He found the architect in his shirt-sleeves, +smoking a pipe, and ruling off lines on a plan. Soames refused a +drink, and came at once to the point. + +"If you've nothing better to do on Sunday, come down with me to +Robin Hill, and give me your opinion on a building site." + +"Are you going to build?" + +"Perhaps," said Soames; "but don't speak of it. I just want your +opinion." + +"Quite so," said the architect. + +Soames peered about the room. + +"You're rather high up here," he remarked. + +Any information he could gather about the nature and scope of +Bosinney's business would be all to the good. + +"It does well enough for me so far," answered the architect. +"You're accustomed to the swells." + +He knocked out his pipe, but replaced it empty between his teeth; +it assisted him perhaps to carry on the conversation. Soames +noted a hollow in each cheek, made as it were by suction. + +"What do you pay for an office like this?" said he. + +"Fifty too much," replied Bosinney. + +This answer impressed Soames favourably. + +"I suppose it is dear," he said. "I'll call for you--on Sunday +about eleven." + +The following Sunday therefore he called for Bosinney in a +hansom, and drove him to the station. On arriving at Robin Hill, +they found no cab, and started to walk the mile and a half to the +site. + +It was the 1st of August--a perfect day, with a burning sun and +cloudless sky--and in the straight, narrow road leading up the +hill their feet kicked up a yellow dust. + +"Gravel soil," remarked Soames, and sideways he glanced at the +coat Bosinney wore. Into the side-pockets of this coat were +thrust bundles of papers, and under one arm was carried a queer- +looking stick. Soames noted these and other peculiarities. + +No one but a clever man, or, indeed, a buccaneer, would have +taken such liberties with his appearance; and though these +eccentricities were revolting to Soames, he derived a certain +satisfaction from them, as evidence of qualities by which he must +inevitably profit. If the fellow could build houses, what did +his clothes matter? + +"I told you," he said, "that I want this house to be a surprise, +so don't say anything about it. I never talk of my affairs until +they're carried through." + +Bosinney nodded. + +"Let women into your plans," pursued Soames, "and you never know +where it'll end." + +"Ah!" Said Bosinney, "women are the devil!" + +This feeling had long been at the--bottom of Soames's heart; he +had never, however, put it into words. + +"Oh!" he Muttered, "so you're beginning to...." He stopped, but +added, with an uncontrollable burst of spite: "June's got a +temper of her own--always had." + +"A temper's not a bad thing in an angel." + +Soames had never called Irene an angel. He could not so have +violated his best instincts, letting other people into the secret +of her value, and giving himself away. He made no reply. + +They had struck into a half-made road across a warren. A +cart-track led at right-angles to a gravel pit, beyond which the +chimneys of a cottage rose amongst a clump of trees at the border +of a thick wood. Tussocks of feathery grass covered the rough +surface of the ground, and out of these the larks soared into the +hate of sunshine. On the far horizon, over a countless +succession of fields and hedges, rose a line of downs. + +Soames led till they had crossed to the far side, and there he +stopped. It was the chosen site; but now that he was about to +divulge the spot to another he had become uneasy. + +"The agent lives in that cottage," he said; "he'll give us some +lunch--we'd better have lunch before we go into this matter." + +He again took the lead to the cottage, where the agent, a tall +man named Oliver, with a heavy face and grizzled beard, welcomed +them. During lunch, which Soames hardly touched, he kept looking +at Bosinney, and once or twice passed his silk handkerchief +stealthily over his forehead. The meal came to an end at last, +and Bosinney rose. + +"I dare say you've got business to talk over," he said; "I'll +just go and nose about a bit." Without waiting for a reply he +strolled out. + +Soames was solicitor to this estate, and he spent nearly an hour +in the agent's company, looking at ground-plans and discussing +the Nicholl and other mortgages; it was as it were by an +afterthought that he brought up the question of the building +site. + +"Your people," he said, "ought to come down in their price to me, +considering that I shall be the first to build." + +Oliver shook his head. + +The site you've fixed on, Sir, he said, "is the cheapest we've +got. Sites at the top of the slope are dearer by a good bit." + +"Mind," said Soames," I've not decided; it's quite possible I +shan't build at all. The ground rent's very high." + +"Well, Mr. Forsyte, I shall be sorry if you go off, and I think +you'll make a mistake, Sir. There's not a bit of land near +London with such a view as this, nor one that's cheaper, all +things considered; we've only to advertise, to get a mob of +people after it." + +They looked at each other. Their faces said very plainly: 'I +respect you as a man of business; and you can't expect me to +believe a word you say.' + +Well, repeated Soames, "I haven't made up my mind; the thing will +very likely go off!" With these words, taking up his umbrella, +he put his chilly hand into the agent's, withdrew it without the +faintest pressure, and went out into the sun. + +He walked slowly back towards the site in deep thought. His +instinct told him that what the agent had said was true. A cheap +site. And the beauty of it was, that he knew the agent did not +really think it cheap; so that his own intuitive knowledge was a +victory over the agent's. + +'Cheap or not, I mean to have it,' he thought. + +The larks sprang up in front of his feet, the air was full of +butterflies, a sweet fragrance rose from the wild grasses. The +sappy scent of the bracken stole forth from the wood, where, +hidden in the depths, pigeons were cooing, and from afar on the +warm breeze, came the rhythmic chiming of church bells. + +Soames walked with his eyes on the ground, his lips opening and +closing as though in anticipation of a delicious morsel. But +when he arrived at the site, Bosinney was nowhere to be seen. +After waiting some little time, he crossed the warren in the +direction of the slope. He would have shouted, but dreaded the +sound of his voice. + +The warren was as lonely as a prairie, its silence only broken by +the rustle of rabbits bolting to their holes, and the song of the +larks. + +Soames, the pioneer-leader of the great Forsyte army advancing to +the civilization of this wilderness, felt his spirit daunted by +the loneliness, by the invisible singing, and the hot, sweet air. +He had begun to retrace his steps when he at last caught sight of +Bosinney. + +The architect was sprawling under a large oak tree, whose trunk, +with a huge spread of bough and foliage, ragged with age, stood +on the verge of the rise. + +Soames had to touch him on the shoulder before he looked up. + +"Hallo! Forsyte," he said, "I've found the very place for your +house! Look here!" + +Soames stood and looked, then he said, coldly: + +"You may be very clever, but this site will cost me half as much +again." + +"Hang the cost, man. Look at the view!" + +Almost from their feet stretched ripe corn, dipping to a small +dark copse beyond. A plain of fields and hedges spread to the +distant grey-bluedowns. In a silver streak to the right could be +seen the line of the river. + +The sky was so blue, and the sun so bright, that an eternal +summer seemed to reign over this prospect. Thistledown floated +round them, enraptured by the serenity, of the ether. The heat +danced over the corn, and, pervading all, was a soft, insensible +hum, like the murmur of bright minutes holding revel between +earth and heaven. + +Soames looked. In spite of himself, something swelled in his +breast. To live here in sight of all this, to be able to point +it out to his friends, to talk of it, to possess it! His cheeks +flushed. The warmth, the radiance, the glow, were sinking into +his senses as, four years before, Irene's beauty had sunk into +his senses and made him long for her. He stole a glance at +Bosinney, whose eyes, the eyes of the coachman's 'half-tame +leopard,' seemed running wild over the landscape. The sunlight +had caught the promontories of the fellow's face, the bumpy +cheekbones, the point of his chin, the vertical ridges above his +brow; and Soames watched this rugged, enthusiastic, careless face +with an unpleasant feeling. + +A long, soft ripple of wind flowed over the corn, and brought a +puff of warm air into their faces. + +"I could build you a teaser here," said Bosinney, breaking the +silence at last. + +"I dare say," replied Soames, drily. "You haven't got to pay for +it." + +"For about eight thousand I could build you a palace." + +Soames had become very pale--a struggle was going on within him. +He dropped his eyes, and said stubbornly: + +"I can't afford it." + +And slowly, with his mousing walk, he led the way back to the +first site. + +They spent some time there going into particulars of the +projected house, and then Soames returned to the agent's cottage. + +He came out in about half an hour, and, joining Bosinney, +started for the station. + +"Well," he said, hardly opening his lips, "I've taken that site +of yours, after all." + +And again he was silent, confusedly debating how it was that this +fellow, whom by habit he despised, should have overborne his own +decision. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A FORSYTE MENAGE + + +Like the enlightened thousands of his class and generation in +this great city of London, who no longer believe in red velvet +chairs, and know that groups of modern Italian marble are 'vieux +jeu,' Soames Forsyte inhabited a house which did what it could. +It owned a copper door knocker of individual design, windows +which had been altered to open outwards, hanging flower boxes +filled with fuchsias, and at the back (a great feature) a little +court tiled with jade-green tiles, and surrounded by pink +hydrangeas in peacock-blue tubs. Here, under a parchment- +coloured Japanese sunshade covering the whole end, inhabitants +or visitors could be screened from the eyes of the curious +while they drank tea and examined at their leisure the latest +of Soames's little silver boxes. + +The inner decoration favoured the First Empire and William +Morris. For its size, the house was commodious; there were +countless nooks resembling birds' nests, and little things made +of silver were deposited like eggs. + +In this general perfection two kinds of fastidiousness were at +war. There lived here a mistress who would have dwelt daintily +on a desert island; a master whose daintiness was, as it were, an +investment, cultivated by the owner for his advancement, in +accordance with the laws of competition. This competitive +daintiness had caused Soames in his Marlborough days to be the +first boy into white waistcoats in summer, and corduroy +waistcoats in winter, had prevented him from ever appearing in +public with his tie climbing up his collar, and induced him to +dust his patent leather boots before a great multitude assembled +on Speech Day to hear him recite Moliere. + +Skin-like immaculateness had grown over Soames, as over many +Londoners; impossible to conceive of him with a hair out of +place, a tie deviating one-eighth of an inch from the +perpendicular, a collar unglossed! He would not have gone +without a bath for worlds--it was the fashion to take baths; and +how bitter was his scorn of people who omitted them! + +But Irene could be imagined, like some nymph, bathing in wayside +streams, for the joy of the freshness and of seeing her own fair +body. + +In this conflict throughout the house the woman had gone to the +wall. As in the struggle between Saxon and Celt still going on +within the nation, the more impressionable and receptive +temperament had had forced on it a conventional superstructure. + +Thus the house had acquired a close resemblance to hundreds of +other houses with the same high aspirations, having become: 'That +very charming little house of the Soames Forsytes, quite +individual, my dear--really elegant.' + +For Soames Forsyte--read James Peabody, Thomas Atkins, or +Emmanuel Spagnoletti, the name in fact of any upper-middle class +Englishman in London with any pretensions to taste; and though +the decoration be different, the phrase is just. + +On the evening of August 8, a week after the expedition to Robin +Hill, in the dining-room of this house--'quite individual, my +dear--really elegant'--Soames and Irene were seated at dinner. A +hot dinner on Sundays was a little distinguishing elegance common +to this house and many others. Early in married life Soames had +laid down the rule: 'The servants must give us hot dinner on +Sundays--they've nothing to do but play the concertina.' + +The custom had produced no revolution. For--to Soames a rather +deplorable sign--servants were devoted to Irene, who, in defiance +of all safe tradition, appeared to recognise their right to a +share in the weaknesses of human nature. + +The happy pair were seated, not opposite each other, but +rectangularly, at the handsome rosewood table; they dined without +a cloth--a distinguishing elegance--and so far had not spoken a +word. + +Soames liked to talk during dinner about business, or what he had +been buying, and so long as he talked Irene's silence did not +distress him. This evening he had found it impossible to talk. +The decision to build had been weighing on his mind all the week, +and he had made up his mind to tell her. + +His nervousness about this disclosure irritated him profoundly; +she had no business to make him feel like that--a wife and a +husband being one person. She had not looked at him once since +they sat down; and he wondered what on earth she had been +thinking about all the time. It was hard, when a man worked as +he did, making money for her--yes, and with an ache in his heart- +-that she should sit there, looking--looking as if she saw the +walls of the room closing in. It was enough to make a man get up +and leave the table. + +The light from the rose-shaded lamp fell on her neck and arms-- +Soames liked her to dine in a low dress, it gave him an +inexpressible feeling of superiority to the majority of his +acquaintance, whose wives were contented with their best high +frocks or with tea-gowns, when they dined at home. Under that +rosy light her amber-coloured hair and fair skin made strange +contrast with her dark brown eyes. + +Could a man own anything prettier than this dining-table with its +deep tints, the starry, soft-petalled roses, the ruby-coloured +glass, and quaint silver furnishing; could a man own anything +prettier than the woman who sat at it? Gratitude was no virtue +among Forsytes, who, competitive, and full of common-sense, had +no occasion for it; and Soames only experienced a sense of +exasperation amounting to pain, that he did not own her as it was +his right to own her, that he could not, as by stretching out +his hand to that rose, pluck her and sniff the very secrets of +her heart. + +Out of his other property, out of all the things he had +collected, his silver, his pictures, his houses, his investments, +he got a secret and intimate feeling; out of her he got none. + +In this house of his there was writing on every wall. His +business-like temperament protested against a mysterious warning +that she was not made for him. He had married this woman, +conquered her, made her his own, and it seemed to him contrary to +the most fundamental of all laws, the law of possession, that he +could do no more than own her body--if indeed he could do that, +which he was beginning to doubt. If any one had asked him if he +wanted to own her soul, the question would have seemed to him +both ridiculous and sentimental. But he did so want, and the +writing said he never would. + +She was ever silent, passive, gracefully averse; as though +terrified lest by word, motion, or sign she might lead him to +believe that she was fond of him; and he asked himself: Must I +always go on like this? + +Like most novel readers of his generation (and Soames was a great +novel reader), literature coloured his view of life; and he had +imbibed the belief that it was only a question of time. + +In the end the husband always gained the affection of his wife. +Even in those cases--a class of book he was not very fond of-- +which ended in tragedy, the wife always died with poignant +regrets on her lips, or if it were the husband who died-- +unpleasant thought--threw herself on his body in an agony of +remorse. + +He often took Irene to the theatre, instinctively choosing the +modern Society Plays with the modern Society conjugal problem, so +fortunately different from any conjugal problem in real life. He +found that they too always ended in the same way, even when there +was a lover in the case. While he was watching the play Soames +often sympathized with the lover; but before he reached home +again, driving with Irene in a hansom, he saw that this would not +do, and he was glad the play had ended as it had. There was one +class of husband that had just then come into fashion, the +strong, rather rough, but extremely sound man, who was peculiarly +successful at the end of the play; with this person Soames was +really not in sympathy, and had it not been for his own position, +would have expressed his disgust with the fellow. But he was so +conscious of how vital to himself was the necessity for being a +successful, even a 'strong,' husband, that be never spoke of a +distaste born perhaps by the perverse processes of Nature out of +a secret fund of brutality in himself. + +But Irene's silence this evening was exceptional. He had never +before seen such an expression on her face. And since it is +always the unusual which alarms, Soames was alarmed. He ate his +savoury, and hurried the maid as she swept off the crumbs with +the silver sweeper. When she had left the room, he filled his. +glass with wine and said: + +"Anybody been here this afternoon?" + +"June." + +"What did she want?" It was an axiom with the Forsytes that +people did not go anywhere unless they wanted something. "Came +to talk about her lover, I suppose?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"It looks to me," continued Soames, "as if she were sweeter on him +than he is on her. She's always following him about." + +Irene's eyes made him feel uncomfortable. + +"You've no business to say such a thing!" she exclaimed. + +"Why not? Anybody can see it." + +"They cannot. And if they could, it's disgraceful to say so." + +Soames's composure gave way. + +"You're a pretty wife!" he said. But secretly he wondered at the +heat of her reply; it was unlike her. "You're cracked about +June! I can tell you one thing: now that she has the Buccaneer +in tow, she doesn't care twopence about you, and, you'll find it +out. But you won't see so much of her in future; we're going to +live in the country." + +He had been glad to get his news out under cover of this burst of +irritation. He had expected a cry of dismay; the silence with +which his pronouncement was received alarmed him. + +"You don't seem interested," he was obliged to add. + +"I knew it already." + +He looked at her sharply. + +"Who told you?" + +"June." + +"How did she know?" + +Irene did not answer. Baffled and uncomfortable, he said: + +"It's a fine thing for Bosinney, it'll be the making of him. I +suppose she's told you all about it?" + +"Yes." + +There was another pause, and then Soames said: + +"I suppose you don't want to, go?" + +Irene made no reply. + +"Well, I can't tell what you want. You never seem contented +here." + +"Have my wishes anything to do with it?" + +She took the vase of roses and left the room. Soames remained +seated. Was it for this that he had signed that contract? Was +it for this that he was going to spend some ten thousand pounds? +Bosinney's phrase came back to him: "Women are the devil!" + +But presently he grew calmer. It might have, been worse. She +might have flared up. He had expected something more than this. +It was lucky, after all, that June had broken the ice for him. +She must have wormed it out of Bosinney; he might have known she +would. + +He lighted his cigarette. After all, Irene had not made a scene! +She would come round--that was the best of her; she was cold, but +not sulky. And, puffing the cigarette smoke at a lady-bird on +the shining table, he plunged into a reverie about the house. It +was no good worrying; he would go and make it up presently. She +would be sitting out there in the dark, under the Japanese +sunshade, knitting. A beautiful, warm night.... + +In truth, June had come in that afternoon with shining eyes, and +the words: "Soames is a brick! It's splendid for Phil--the very +thing for him!" + +Irene's face remaining dark and puzzled, she went on: + +"Your new house at Robin Hill, of course. What? Don't you +know?" + +Irene did not know. + +"Oh! then, I suppose I oughtn't to have told you!" Looking +impatiently at her friend, she cried: "You look as if you didn't +care. Don't you see, it's what I've' been praying for--the very +chance he's been wanting all this time. Now you'll see what he +can do;" and thereupon she poured out the whole story. + +Since her own engagement she had not seemed much interested in +her friend's position; the hours she spent with Irene were given +to confidences of her own; and at times, for all her affectionate +pity, it was impossible to keep out of her smile a trace of +compassionate contempt for the woman who had made such a mistake +in her life--such a vast, ridiculous mistake. + +"He's to have all the decorations as well--a free hand. It's +perfect--" June broke into laughter, her little figure quivered +gleefully; she raised her hand, and struck a blow at a muslin +curtain. "Do you, know I even asked Uncle James...." But, with a +sudden dislike to mentioning that incident, she stopped; and +presently, finding her friend so unresponsive, went away. She +looked back from the pavement, and Irene was still standing in +the doorway. In response to her farewell wave, Irene put her +hand to her brow, and, turning slowly, shut the door.... + +Soames went to the drawing-room presently, and peered at her +through the window. + +Out in the shadow of the Japanese sunshade she was sitting very +still, the lace on her white shoulders stirring with the soft +rise and fall of her bosom. + +But about this silent creature sitting there so motionless, in +the dark, there seemed a warmth, a hidden fervour of feeling, as +if the whole of her being had been stirred, and some change were +taking place in its very depths. + +He stole back to the dining-room unnoticed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JAMES AT LARGE + + +It was not long before Soames's determination to build went the +round of the family, and created the flutter that any decision +connected with property should make among Forsytes. + +It was not his fault, for he had been determined that no one +should know. June, in the fulness of her heart, had told Mrs. +Small, giving her leave only to tell Aunt Ann--she thought it +would cheer her, the poor old sweet! for Aunt Ann had kept her +room now for many days. + +Mrs. Small told Aunt Ann at once, who, smiling as she lay back on +her pillows, said in her distinct, trembling old voice: + +"It's very nice for dear June; but I hope they will be careful-- +it's rather dangerous!" + +When she was left alone again, a frown, like a cloud presaging a +rainy morrow, crossed her face. + +While she was lying there so many days the process of recharging +her will went on all the time; it spread to her face, too, and +tightening movements were always in action at the corners of her +lips. + +The maid Smither, who had been in her service since girlhood, and +was spoken of as "Smither--a good girl--but so slow!"--the maid +Smither performed every morning with extreme punctiliousness the +crowning ceremony of that ancient toilet. Taking from the +recesses of their pure white band-box those flat, grey curls, +the insignia of personal dignity, she placed them securely in her +mistress's hands, and turned her back. + +And every day Aunts Juley and Hester were required to come and +report on Timothy; what news there was of Nicholas; whether dear +June had succeeded in getting Jolyon to shorten the engagement, +now that Mr. Bosinney was building Soames a house; whether young +Roger's wife was really--expecting; how the operation on Archie +had succeeded; and what Swithin had done about that empty house +in Wigmore Street, where the tenant had lost all his money and +treated him so badly; above all, about Soames; was Irene still-- +still asking for a separate room? And every morning Smither was +told: "I shall be coming down this afternoon, Smither, about two +o'clock. I shall want your arm, after all these days in bed!" + +After telling Aunt Ann, Mrs. Small had spoken of the house in the +strictest confidence to Mrs. Nicholas, who in her turn had asked +Winifred Dartie for confirmation, supposing, of course, that, +being Soames's sister, she would know all about it. Through her +it had in due course come round to the ears of James. He had been +a good deal agitated. + +"Nobody," he said, "told him anything." And, rather than go +direct to Soames himself, of whose taciturnity he was afraid, he +took his umbrella and went round to Timothy's. + +He found Mrs. Septimus and Hester (who had been told--she was so +safe, she found it tiring to talk) ready, and indeed eager, to +discuss the news. It was very good of dear Soames, they thought, +to employ Mr. Bosinney, but rather risky. What had George named +him? 'The Buccaneer' How droll! But George was always droll! +However, it would be all in the family they supposed they must +really look upon Mr. Bosinney as belonging to the family, though +it seemed strange. + +James here broke in: + +"Nobody knows anything about him. I don't see what Soames wants +with a young man like that. I shouldn't be surprised if Irene +had put her oar in. I shall speak to...." + +"Soames," interposed Aunt Juley, "told Mr. Bosinney that he +didn't wish it mentioned. He wouldn't like it to be talked +about, I'm sure, and if Timothy knew he would be very vexed, +I...." + +James put his hand behind his ear: + +"What?" he said. "I'm getting very deaf. I suppose I don't hear +people. Emily's got a bad toe. We shan't be able to start for +Wales till the end of the month. There' s always something!" +And, having got what he wanted, he took his hat and went away. + +It was a fine afternoon, and he walked across the Park towards +Soames's, where he intended to dine, for Emily's toe kept her in +bed, and Rachel and Cicely were on a visit to the country. He +took the slanting path from the Bayswater side of the Row to the +Knightsbridge Gate, across a pasture of short, burnt grass, +dotted with blackened sheep, strewn with seated couples and +strange waifs; lying prone on their faces, like corpses on a +field over which the wave of battle has rolled. + +He walked rapidly, his head bent, looking neither to right nor, +left. The appearance of this park, the centre of his own +battle-field, where he had all his life been fighting, excited no +thought or speculation in his mind. These corpses flung down, +there, from out the press and turmoil of the struggle, these +pairs of lovers sitting cheek by jowl for an hour of idle Elysium +snatched from the monotony of their treadmill, awakened no +fancies in his mind; he had outlived that kind of imagination; +his nose, like the nose of a sheep, was fastened to the pastures +on which he browsed. + +One of his tenants had lately shown a disposition to be +behind-hand in his rent, and it had become a grave question +whether he had not better turn him out at once, and so run the +risk of not re-letting before Christmas. Swithin had just been +let in very badly, but it had served him right--he had held on +too long. + +He pondered this as he walked steadily, holding his umbrella +carefully by the wood, just below the crook of the handle, so as +to keep the ferule off the ground, and not fray the silk in the +middle. And, with his thin, high shoulders stooped, his long +legs moving with swift mechanical precision, this passage through +the Park, where the sun shone with a clear flame on so much +idleness--on so many human evidences of the remorseless battle of +Property, raging beyond its ring--was like the flight of some +land bird across the sea. + +He felt a--touch on the arm as he came out at Albert Gate. + +It was Soames, who, crossing from the shady side of Piccadilly, +where he had been walking home from the office, had suddenly +appeared alongside. + +"Your mother's in bed," said James; "I was, just coming to you, +but I suppose I shall be in the way." + +The outward relations between James and his son were marked by a +lack of sentiment peculiarly Forsytean, but for all that the two +were by no means unattached. Perhaps they regarded one another +as an investment; certainly they were solicitous of each other's +welfare, glad of each other's company. They had never exchanged +two words upon the more intimate problems of life, or revealed in +each other's presence the existence of any deep feeling. + +Something beyond the power of word-analysis bound them together, +something hidden deep in the fibre of nations and families--for +blood, they say, is thicker than water--and neither of them was a +cold-blooded man. Indeed, in James love of his children was now +the prime motive of his existence. To have creatures who were +parts of himself, to whom he might transmit the money he saved, +was at the root of his saving; and, at seventy-five, what was +left that could give him pleasure, but--saving? The kernel of +life was in this saving for his children. + +Than James Forsyte, notwithstanding all his 'Jonah-isms,' there +was no saner man (if the leading symptom of sanity, as we are +told, is self-preservation, though without doubt Timothy went too +far) in all this London, of which he owned so much, and loved +with such a dumb love, as the centre of his opportunities. He +had the marvellous instinctive sanity of the middle class. In +him--more than in Jolyon, with his masterful will and his moments +of tenderness and philosophy--more than in Swithin, the martyr to +crankiness--Nicholas, the sufferer from ability--and Roger, the +victim of enterprise--beat the true pulse of compromise; of all +the brothers he was least remarkable in mind and person, and for +that reason more likely to live for ever. + +To James, more than to any of the others, was "the family" +significant and dear. There had always been something primitive +and cosy in his attitude towards life; he loved the family +hearth, he loved gossip, and he loved grumbling. All his +decisions were formed of a cream which he skimmed off the family +mind; and, through that family, off the minds of thousands of +other families of similar fibre. Year after year, week after +week, he went to Timothy's, and in his brother's front +drawing-room--his legs twisted, his long white whiskers framing +his clean-shaven mouth--would sit watching the family pot simmer, +the cream rising to the top; and he would go away sheltered, +refreshed, comforted, with an indefinable sense of comfort. + +Beneath the adamant of his self-preserving instinct there was +much real softness in James; a visit to Timothy's was like an +hour spent in the lap of a mother; and the deep craving he +himself had for the protection of the family wing reacted in turn +on his feelings towards his own children; it was a nightmare to +him to think of them exposed to the treatment of the world, in +money, health, or reputation. When his old friend John Street's +son volunteered for special service, he shook his head +querulously, and wondered what John Street was about to allow it; +and when young Street was assagaied, he took it so much to heart +that he made a point of calling everywhere with the special +object of saying: He knew how it would be--he'd no patience with +them! + +When his son-in-law Dartie had that financial crisis, due to +speculation in Oil Shares, James made himself ill worrying over +it; the knell of all prosperity seemed to have sounded. It took +him three months and a visit to Baden-Baden to get better; there +was something terrible in the idea that but for his, James's, +money, Dartie's name might have appeared in the Bankruptcy List. + +Composed of a physiological mixture so sound that if he had an +earache he thought he was dying, he regarded the occasional +ailments of his wife and children as in the nature of personal +grievances, special interventions of Providence for the purpose +of destroying his peace of mind; but he did not believe at all in +the ailments of people outside his own immediate family, +affirming them in every case to be due to neglected liver. + +His universal comment was: "What can they expect? I have it +myself, if I'm not careful!" + +When he went to Soames's that evening he felt that life was hard +on him: There was Emily with a bad toe, and Rachel gadding about +in the country; he got no sympathy from anybody; and Ann, she was +ill--he did not believe she would last through the summer; he had +called there three times now without her being able to see him! +And this idea of Soames's, building a house, that would have to +be looked into. As to the trouble with Irene, he didn't know +what was to come of that--anything might come of it! + +He entered 62, Montpellier Square with the fullest intentions of +being miserable. It was already half-past seven, and Irene, +dressed for dinner, was seated in the drawing-room. She was +wearing her gold-coloured frock--for, having been displayed at a +dinner-party, a soiree, and a dance, it was now to be worn at +home--and she had adorned the bosom with a cascade of lace, on +which James's eyes riveted themselves at once. + +"Where do you get your things?" he said in an aggravated voice. +"I never see Rachel and Cicely looking half so well. That +rose-point, now--that's not real!" + +Irene came close, to prove to him that he was in error. + +And, in spite of himself, James felt the influence of her +deference, of the faint seductive perfume exhaling from her. No +self-respecting Forsyte surrendered at a blow; so he merely said: +He didn't know--he expected she was spending a pretty penny on +dress. + +The gong sounded, and, putting her white arm within his, Irene +took him into the dining-room. She seated him in Soames's usual +place, round the corner on her left. The light fell softly +there, so that he would not be worried by the gradual dying of +the day; and she began to talk to him about himself. + +Presently, over James came a change, like the mellowing that +steals upon a fruit in the, sun; a sense of being caressed, and +praised, and petted, and all without the bestowal of a single +caress or word of praise. He felt that what he was eating was +agreeing with him; he could not get that feeling at home; he did +not know when he had enjoyed a glass of champagne so much, and, +on inquiring the brand and price, was surprised to find that it +was one of which he had a large stock himself, but could never +drink; he instantly formed the resolution to let his wine +merchant know that he had been swindled. + +Looking up from his food, he remarked: + +"You've a lot of nice things about the place. Now, what did you +give for that sugar-sifter? Shouldn't wonder if it was worth +money!" + +He was particularly pleased with the appearance of a picture, on +the wall opposite, which he himself had given them: + +"I'd no idea it was so good!" he said. + +They rose to go into the drawing-room, and James followed Irene +closely. + +"That's what I call a capital little dinner," he murmured, +breathing pleasantly down on her shoulder; "nothing heavy--and +not too Frenchified. But I can't get it at home. I pay my cook +sixty pounds a year, but she can't give me a dinner like that!" + +He had as yet made no allusion to the building of the house, nor +did he when Soames, pleading the excuse of business, betook +himself to the room at the top, where he kept his pictures. + +James was left alone with his daughter-in-law. The glow of the +wine, and of an excellent liqueur, was still within him. He felt +quite warm towards her. She was really a taking little thing; +she listened to you, and seemed to understand what you were +saying; and, while talking, he kept examining her figure, from +her bronze-coloured shoes to the waved gold of her hair. She was +leaning back in an Empire chair, her shoulders poised against the +top--her body, flexibly straight and unsupported from the hips, +swaying when she moved, as though giving to the arms of a lover. +Her lips were smiling, her eyes half-closed. + +It may have been a recognition of danger in the very charm of her +attitude, or a twang of digestion, that caused a sudden dumbness +to fall on James. He did not remember ever having been quite +alone with Irene before. And, as he looked at her, an odd +feeling crept over him, as though he had come across something +strange and foreign. + +Now what was she thinking about--sitting back like that? + +Thus when he spoke it was in a sharper voice, as if he had been +awakened from a pleasant dream. + +"What d'you do with yourself all day?" he said. "You never come +round to Park Lane!" + +She seemed to be making very lame excuses, and James did not look +at her. He did not want to believe that she was really avoiding +them--it would mean too much. + +"I expect the fact is, you haven't time," he said; "You're always +about with June. I expect you're useful to her with her young +man, chaperoning, and one thing and another. They tell me she's +never at home now; your Uncle Jolyon he doesn't like it, I fancy, +being left so much alone as he is. They tell me she's always +hanging about for this young Bosinney; I suppose he comes here +every day. Now, what do you think of him? D'you think he knows +his own mind? He seems to me a poor thing. I should say the +grey mare was the better horse!" + +The colour deepened in Irene's face; and James watched her +suspiciously. + +"Perhaps you don't quite understand Mr. Bosinney," she said. + +"Don't understand him!" James hummed out: "Why not?--you can see +he's one of these artistic chaps. They say he's clever--they all +think they're clever. You know more about him than I do," he +added; and again his suspicious glance rested on her. + +"He is designing a house for Soames," she said softly, evidently +trying to smooth things over. + +"That brings me to what I was going to say," continued James; "I +don't know what Soames wants with a young man like that; why +doesn't he go to a first-rate man?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Bosinney is first-rate!" + +James rose, and took a turn with bent head. + +"That's it'," he said, "you young people, you all stick together; +you all think you know best!" + +Halting his tall, lank figure before her, he raised a finger, and +levelled it at her bosom, as though bringing an indictment +against her beauty: + +"All I can say is, these artistic people, or whatever they call +themselves, they're as unreliable as they can be; and my advice +to you is, don't you have too much to do with him!" + +Irene smiled; and in the curve of her lips was a strange +provocation. She seemed to have lost her deference. Her breast +rose and fell as though with secret anger; she drew her hands +inwards from their rest on the arms of her chair until the tips +of her fingers met, and her dark eyes looked unfathomably at +James. + +The latter gloomily scrutinized the floor. + +"I tell you my opinion," he said, "it's a pity you haven't got a +child to think about, and occupy you!" + +A brooding look came instantly on Irene's face, and even James +became conscious of the rigidity that took possession of her +whole figure beneath the softness of its silk and lace clothing. + +He was frightened by the effect he had produced, and like most +men with but little courage, he sought at once to justify himself +by bullying. + +"You don't seem to care about going about. Why don't you drive +down to Hurlingham with us? And go to the theatre now and then. +At your time of life you ought to take an interest in things. +You're a young woman!" + +The brooding look darkened on her face; he grew nervous. + +"Well, I know nothing about it," he said; "nobody tells me +anything. Soames ought to be able to take care of himself. If +he can't take care of himself he mustn't look to me--that's all." + +Biting the corner of his forefinger he stole a cold, sharp look +at his daughter-in-law. + +He encountered her eyes fixed on his own, so dark and deep, that +he stopped, and broke into a gentle perspiration. + +"Well, I must be going," he said after a short pause, and a +minute later rose, with a slight appearance of surprise, as +though he had expected to be asked to stop. Giving his hand to +Irene, he allowed himself to be conducted to the door, and let +out into the street. He would not have a cab, he would walk, +Irene was to say good-night to Soames for him, and if she wanted +a little gaiety, well, he would drive her down to Richmond any +day. + +He walked home, and going upstairs, woke Emily out of the first +sleep she had had for four and twenty hours, to tell her that it +was his impression things were in a bad way at Soames's; on this +theme he descanted for half an hour, until at last, saying that +he would not sleep a wink, he turned on his side and instantly +began to snore. + +In Montpellier Square Soames, who had come from the picture room, +stood invisible at the top of the stairs, watching Irene sort the +letters brought by the last post. She turned back into the +drawing-room; but in a minute came out, and stood as if +listening. Then she came stealing up the stairs, with a kitten +in her arms. He could see her face bent over the little beast, +which was purring against her neck. Why couldn't she look at him +like that? + +Suddenly she saw him, and her face changed. + +"Any letters for me?" he said. + +"Three." + +He stood aside, and without another word she passed on into the +bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OLD JOLYON'S PECCADILLO + + +Old Jolyon came out of Lord's cricket ground that same afternoon +with the intention of going home. He had not reached Hamilton +Terrace before he changed his mind, and hailing a cab, gave the +driver an address in Wistaria Avenue. He had taken a resolution. + +June had hardly been at home at all that week; she had given him +nothing of her company for a long time past, not, in fact, since +she had become engaged to Bosinney. He never asked her for her +company. It was not his habit to ask people for things! She had +just that one idea now--Bosinney and his affairs--and she left +him stranded in his great house, with a parcel of servants, and +not a soul to speak to from morning to night. His Club was +closed for cleaning; his Boards in recess; there was nothing, +therefore, to take him into the City. June had wanted him to go +away; she would not go herself, because Bosinney was in London. + +But where was he to go by himself? He could not go abroad alone; +the sea upset his liver; he hated hotels. Roger went to a +hydropathic--he was not going to begin that at his time of life, +those new-fangled places we're all humbug! + +With such formulas he clothed to himself the desolation of his +spirit; the lines down his face deepening, his eyes day by day +looking forth with the melancholy which sat so strangely on a +face wont to be strong and serene. + +And so that afternoon he took this journey through St. John's +Wood, in the golden-light that sprinkled the rounded green bushes +of the acacia's before the little houses, in the summer sunshine +that seemed holding a revel over the little gardens; and he +looked about him with interest; for this was a district which no +Forsyte entered without open disapproval and secret curiosity. + +His cab stopped in front of a small house of that peculiar buff +colour which implies a long immunity from paint. It had an outer +gate, and a rustic approach. + +He stepped out, his bearing extremely composed; his massive head, +with its drooping moustache and wings of white hair, very +upright, under an excessively large top hat; his glance firm, a +little angry. He had been driven into this! + +"Mrs. Jolyon Forsyte at home?" + +"Oh, yes sir!--what name shall I say, if you please, sir?" + +Old Jolyon could not help twinkling at the little maid as he gave +his name. She seemed to him such a funny little toad! + +And he followed her through the dark hall, into a small double, +drawing-room, where the furniture was covered in chintz, and the +little maid placed him in a chair. + +"They're all in the garden, sir; if you'll kindly take a seat, +I'll tell them." + +Old Jolyon sat down in the chintz-covered chair, and looked +around him. The whole place seemed to him, as he would have +expressed it, pokey; there was a certain--he could not tell +exactly what--air of shabbiness, or rather of making two ends +meet, about everything. As far as he could see, not a single +piece of furniture was worth a five-pound note. The walls, +distempered rather a long time ago, were decorated with +water-colour sketches; across the ceiling meandered a long crack. + +These little houses were all old, second-rate concerns; he should +hope the rent was under a hundred a year; it hurt him more than +he could have said, to think of a Forsyte--his own son living in +such a place. + +The little maid came back. Would he please to go down into the +garden? + +Old Jolyon marched out through the French windows. In descending +the steps he noticed that they wanted painting. + +Young Jolyon, his wife, his two children, and his dog Balthasar, +were all out there under a pear-tree. + +This walk towards them was the most courageous act of old +Jolyon's life; but no muscle of his face moved, no nervous +gesture betrayed him. He kept his deep-set eyes steadily on the +enemy. + +In those two minutes he demonstrated to perfection all that +unconscious soundness, balance, and vitality of fibre that made, +of him and so many others of his class the core of the nation. +In the unostentatious conduct of their own affairs, to the +neglect of everything else, they typified the essential +individualism, born in the Briton from the natural isolation of +his country's life. + +The dog Balthasar sniffed round the edges of his trousers; this +friendly and cynical mongrel--offspring of a liaison between a +Russian poodle and a fox-terrier--had a nose for the unusual. + +The strange greetings over, old Jolyon seated himself in a wicker +chair, and his two grandchildren, one on each side of his knees, +looked at him silently, never having seen so old a man. + +They were unlike, as though recognising the difference set +between them by the circumstances of their births. Jolly, the +child of sin, pudgy-faced, with his tow-coloured hair brushed off +his forehead, and a dimple in his chin, had an air of stubborn +amiability, and the eyes of a Forsyte; little Holly, the child of +wedlock, was a dark-skinned, solemn soul, with her mother's, grey +and wistful eyes. + +The dog Balthasar, having walked round the three small flower- +beds, to show his extreme contempt for things at large, had also +taken a seat in front of old Jolyon, and, oscillating a tail +curled by Nature tightly over his back, was staring up with +eyes that did not blink. + +Even in the garden, that sense of things being pokey haunted old +Jolyon; the wicker chair creaked under his weight; the +garden-beds looked 'daverdy'; on the far side, under the smut- +stained wall, cats had made a path. + +While he and his grandchildren thus regarded each other with the +peculiar scrutiny, curious yet trustful, that passes between the +very young and the very old, young Jolyon watched his wife. + +The colour had deepened in her thin, oval face, with its straight +brows, and large, grey eyes. Her hair, brushed in fine, high +curves back from her forehead, was going grey, like his own, and +this greyness made the sudden vivid colour in her cheeks +painfully pathetic. + +The look on her face, such as he had never seen there before, +such as she had always hidden from him, was full of secret +resentments, and longings, and fears. Her eyes, under their +twitching brows, stared painfully. And she was silent. + +Jolly alone sustained the conversation; he had many possessions, +and was anxious that his unknown friend with extremely large +moustaches, and hands all covered with blue veins, who sat with +legs crossed like his own father (a habit he was himself trying +to acquire), should know it; but being a Forsyte, though not yet +quite eight years old, he made no mention of the thing at the +moment dearest to his heart--a camp of soldiers in a shop-window, +which his father had promised to buy. No doubt it seemed to him +too precious; a tempting of Providence to mention it yet. + +And the sunlight played through the leaves on that little party +of the three generations grouped tranquilly under the pear-tree, +which had long borne no fruit. + +Old Jolyon's furrowed face was reddening patchily, as old men's +faces redden in the sun. He took one of Jolly's hands in his +own; the boy climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized +by this sight, crept up to them; the sound of the dog Balthasar's +scratching arose rhythmically. + +Suddenly young Mrs. Jolyon got up and hurried indoors. A minute +later her husband muttered an excuse, and followed. Old Jolyon +was left alone with his grandchildren. + +And Nature with her quaint irony began working in him one of her +strange revolutions, following her cyclic laws into the depths of +his heart. And that tenderness for little children, that passion +for the beginnings of life which had once made him forsake his +son and follow June, now worked in him to forsake June and follow +these littler things. Youth, like a flame, burned ever in his +breast, and to youth he turned, to the round little limbs, so +reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so +unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the +shrill, chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and +the feel of small bodies against his legs, to all that was young +and young, and once more young. And his eyes grew soft, his +voice, and thin-veined hands soft, and soft his heart within him. +And to those small creatures he became at once a place of +pleasure, a place where they were secure, and could talk and +laugh and play; till, like sunshine, there radiated from old +Jolyon's wicker chair the perfect gaiety of three hearts. + +But with young Jolyon following to his wife's room it was +different. + +He found her seated on a chair before her dressing-glass, with +her hands before her face. + +Her shoulders were shaking with sobs. This passion of hers for +suffering was mysterious to him. He had been through a hundred +of these moods; how he had survived them he never knew, for he +could never believe they were moods, and that the last hour of +his partnership had not struck. + +In the night she would be sure to throw her arms round his +neck and say: "Oh! Jo, how I make you suffer!" as she had done a +hundred times before. + +He reached out his hand, and, unseen, slipped his razor-case into +his pocket. 'I cannot stay here,' he thought, 'I must go down!' +Without a word he left the room, and went back to the lawn. + +Old Jolyon had little Holly on his knee; she had taken possession +of his watch; Jolly, very red in the face, was trying to show +that he could stand on his head. The dog Balthasar, as close as +he might be to the tea-table, had fixed his eyes on the cake. + +Young Jolyon felt a malicious desire to cut their enjoyment +short. + +What business had his father to come and upset his wife like +this? It was a shock, after all these years! He ought to have +known; he ought to have given them warning; but when did a +Forsyte ever imagine that his conduct could upset anybody! And +in his thoughts he did old Jolyon wrong. + +He spoke sharply to the children, and told them to go in to their +tea. Greatly surprised, for they had never heard their father +speak sharply before, they went off, hand in hand, little Holly +looking back over her shoulder. + +Young Jolyon poured out the tea. + +"My wife's not the thing today," he said, but he knew well enough +that his father had penetrated the cause of that sudden +withdrawal, and almost hated the old man for sitting there so +calmly. + +"You've got a nice little house here," said old Jolyon with a +shrewd look; "I suppose you've taken a lease of it!" + +Young Jolyon nodded. + +"I don't like the neighbourhood," said old Jolyon; "a ramshackle +lot." + +Young Jolyon replied: "Yes, we're a ramshackle lot."' + +The silence was now only broken by the sound of the dog +Balthasar's scratching. + +Old Jolyon said simply: "I suppose I oughtn't to have come here, +Jo; but I get so lonely!" + +At these words young Jolyon got up and put his hand on his +father's shoulder. + +In the next house someone was playing over and over again: 'La +Donna mobile' on an untuned piano; and the little garden had +fallen into shade, the sun now only reached the wall at the end, +whereon basked a crouching cat, her yellow eyes turned sleepily +down on the dog Balthasar. There was a drowsy hum of very +distant traffic; the creepered trellis round the garden shut out +everything but sky, and house, and pear-tree, with its top +branches still gilded by the sun. + +For some time they sat there, talking but little. Then old +Jolyon rose to go, and not a word was said about his coming +again. + +He walked away very sadly. What a poor miserable place; and he +thought of the great, empty house in Stanhope Gate, fit residence +for a Forsyte, with its huge billiard-room and drawing-room that +no one entered from one week's end to another. + +That woman, whose face he had rather liked, was too thin-skinned +by half; she gave Jo a bad time he knew! And those sweet +children! Ah! what a piece of awful folly! + +He walked towards the Edgware Road, between rows of little +houses, all suggesting to him (erroneously no doubt, but the +prejudices of a Forsyte are sacred) shady histories of some sort +or kind. + +Society, forsooth, the chattering hags and jackanapes--had set +themselves up to pass judgment on his flesh and blood! A parcel +of old women! He stumped his umbrella on the ground, as though +to drive it into the heart of that unfortunate body, which had +dared to ostracize his son and his son's son, in whom he could +have lived again! + +He stumped his umbrella fiercely; yet he himself had followed +Society's behaviour for fifteen years--had only today been false +to it! + +He thought of June, and her dead mother, and the whole story, +with all his old bitterness. A wretched business! + +He was a long time reaching Stanhope Gate, for, with native +perversity, being extremely tired, he walked the whole way. + +After washing his hands in the lavatory downstairs, he went to +the dining-room to wait for dinner, the only room he used when +June was out--it was less lonely so. The evening paper had not +yet come; he had finished the Times, there was therefore nothing +to do. + +The room faced the backwater of traffic, and was very silent. He +disliked dogs, but a dog even would have been company. His gaze, +travelling round the walls, rested on a picture entitled: 'Group +of Dutch fishing boats at sunset'; the chef d'oeuvre of his +collection. It gave him no pleasure. He closed his eyes. He +was lonely! He oughtn't to complain, he knew, but he couldn't +help it: He was a poor thing--had always been a poor thing--no +pluck! Such was his thought. + +The butler came to lay the table for dinner, and seeing his +master apparently asleep, exercised extreme caution in his +movements. This bearded man also wore a moustache, which had +given rise to grave doubts in the minds of many members--of the +family--, especially those who, like Soames, had been to public +schools, and were accustomed to niceness in such matters. Could +he really be considered a butler? Playful spirits alluded to him +as: 'Uncle Jolyon's Nonconformist'; George, the acknowledged wag, +had named him: 'Sankey.' + +He moved to and fro between the great polished sideboard and the +great polished table inimitably sleek and soft. + +Old Jolyon watched him, feigning sleep. The fellow was a sneak-- +he had always thought so--who cared about nothing but rattling +through his work, and getting out to his betting or his woman or +goodness knew what! A slug! Fat too! And didn't care a pin +about his master! + +But then against his will, came one of those moments of +philosophy which made old Jolyon different from other Forsytes: + +After all why should the man care? He wasn't paid to care, and +why expect it? In this world people couldn't look for affection +unless they paid for it. It might be different in the next--he +didn't know--couldn't tell! And again he shut his eyes. + +Relentless and stealthy, the butler pursued his labours, taking +things from the various compartments of the sideboard. His back +seemed always turned to old Jolyon; thus, he robbed his +operations of the unseemliness of being carried on in his +master's presence; now and then he furtively breathed on the +silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather. He +appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, +which he carried carefully and rather high, letting his heard +droop over them protectingly. When he had finished, he stood for +over a minute watching his master, and in his greenish eyes there +was a look of contempt: + +After all, this master of his was an old buffer, who hadn't much +left in him! + +Soft as a tom-cat, he crossed the room to press the bell. His +orders were 'dinner at seven.' What if his master were asleep; he +would soon have him out of that; there was the night to sleep in! +He had himself to think of, for he was due at his Club at +half-past eight! + +In answer to the ring, appeared a page boy with a silver soup +tureen. The butler took it from his hands and placed it on the. +table, then, standing by the open door, as though about to usher +company into the room, he said in a solemn voice: + +"Dinner is on the table, sir!" + +Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the +table to eat his dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +PLANS OF THE HOUSE + + +Forsytes, as is generally admitted, have shells, like that +extremely useful little animal which is made into Turkish +delight, in other words, they are never seen, or if seen would +not be recognised, without habitats, composed of circumstance, +property, acquaintances, and wives, which seem to move along with +them in their passage through a world composed of thousands of +other Forsytes with their habitats. Without a habitat a Forsyte +is inconceivable--he would be like a novel without a plot, which +is well-known to be an anomaly. + +To Forsyte eyes Bosinney appeared to have no habitat, he seemed +one of those rare and unfortunate men who go through life +surrounded by circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives +that do not belong to them. + +His rooms in Sloane Street, on the top floor, outside which, on a +plate, was his name, 'Philip Baynes Bosinney, Architect,' were +not those of a Forsyte.--He had no sitting-room apart from his +office, but a large recess had been screened off to conceal the +necessaries of life--a couch, an easy chair, his pipes, spirit +case, novels and slippers. The business part of the room had the +usual furniture; an open cupboard with pigeon-holes, a round oak +table, a folding wash-stand, some hard chairs, a standing desk of +large dimensions covered with drawings and designs. June had +twice been to tea there under the chaperonage of his aunt. + +He was believed to have a bedroom at the back. + +As far as the family had been able to ascertain his income, it +consisted of two consulting appointments at twenty pounds a year, +together with an odd fee once in a way, and--more worthy item--a +private annuity under his father's will of one hundred and fifty +pounds a year. + +What had transpired concerning that father was not so reassuring. +It appeared that he had been a Lincolnshire country doctor of +Cornish extraction, striking appearance, and Byronic tendencies-- +a well-known figure, in fact, in his county. Bosinney's uncle by +marriage, Baynes, of Baynes and Bildeboy, a Forsyte in instincts +if not in name, had but little that was worthy to relate of his +brother-in-law. + +"An odd fellow!' he would say: 'always spoke of his three eldest +boys as 'good creatures, but so dull'; they're all doing +capitally in the Indian Civil! Philip was the only one he liked. +I've heard him talk in the queerest way; he once said to me: 'My +dear fellow, never let your poor wife know what you're thinking +of! But I didn't follow his advice; not I! An eccentric man! +He would say to Phil: 'Whether you live like a gentleman or not, +my boy, be sure you die like one! and he had himself embalmed in +a frock coat suit, with a satin cravat and a diamond pin. Oh, +quite an original, I can assure you!" + +Of Bosinney himself Baynes would speak warmly, with a certain +compassion: "He's got a streak of his father's Byronism. Why, +look at the way he threw up his chances when he left my office; +going off like that for six months with a knapsack, and all for +what?--to study foreign architecture--foreign! What could he +expect? And there he is--a clever young fellow--doesn't make his +hundred a year! Now this engagement is the best thing that could +have happened--keep him steady; he's one of those that go to bed +all day and stay up all night, simply because they've no method; +but no vice about him--not an ounce of vice. Old Forsyte's a +rich man!" + +Mr. Baynes made himself extremely pleasant to June, who +frequently visited his house in Lowndes Square at this period. + +"This house of your cousin's--what a capital man of business--is +the very thing for Philip," he would say to her; "you mustn't +expect to see too much of him just now, my dear young lady. The +good cause--the good cause! The young man must make his way. +When I was his age I was at work day and night. My dear wife +used to say to me, 'Bobby, don't work too hard, think of your +health'; but I never spared myself!" + +June had complained that her lover found no time to come to +Stanhope Gate. + +The first time he came again they had not been together a quarter +of an hour before, by one of those coincidences of which she was +a mistress, Mrs. Septimus Small arrived. Thereon Bosinney rose +and hid himself, according to previous arrangement, in the little +study, to wait for her departure. + +"My dear," said Aunt Juley, "how thin he is! I've often noticed +it with engaged people; but you mustn't let it get worse. +There's Barlow's extract of veal; it did your Uncle Swithin a lot +of good." + +June, her little figure erect before the hearth, her small face +quivering grimly, for she regarded her aunt's untimely visit in +the light of a personal injury, replied with scorn: + +"It's because he's busy; people who can do anything worth doing +are never fat!" + +Aunt Juley pouted; she herself had always been thin, but the only +pleasure she derived from the fact was the opportunity of longing +to be stouter. + +"I don't think," she said mournfully, "that you ought to let them +call him 'The Buccaneer'; people might think it odd, now that +he's going to build a house for Soames. I do hope he will be +careful; it's so important for him. Soames has such good taste!" + +"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for +his taste, or any of the family's!" + +Mrs. Small was taken aback. + +"Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And +Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't +think so!" + +"H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!" + +Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: + +"And how will dear Irene like living in the country?" + +June gazed at her intently, with a look in her eyes as if her +conscience had suddenly leaped up into them; it passed; and an +even more intent look took its place, as if she had stared that +conscience out of countenance. She replied imperiously: + +"Of course she'll like it; why shouldn't she?" + +Mrs. Small grew nervous. + +"I didn't know," she said; "I thought she mightn't like to leave +her friends. Your Uncle James says she doesn't take enough +interest in life. We think--I mean Timothy thinks--she ought to +go out more. I expect you'll miss her very much!" + +June clasped her hands behind her neck. + +"I do wish," she cried, "Uncle Timothy wouldn't talk about what +doesn't concern him!" + +Aunt Juley rose to the full height of her tall figure. + +"He never talks about what doesn't concern him," she said. + +June was instantly compunctious; she ran to her aunt and kissed +her. + +"I'm very sorry, auntie; but I wish they'd let Irene alone." + +Aunt Juley, unable to think of anything further on the subject +that would be suitable, was silent; she prepared for departure, +hooking her black silk cape across her chest, and, taking up her +green reticule: + +"And how is your dear grandfather?" she asked in the hall, "I +expect he's very lonely now that all your time is taken up with +Mr. Bosinney." + +She bent and kissed her niece hungrily, and with little, mincing +steps passed away. + +The tears sprang up in June's eyes; running into the little +study, where Bosinney was sitting at the table drawing birds on +the back of an envelope, she sank down by his side and cried: + +"Oh, Phil! it's all so horrid!" Her heart was as warm as the +colour of her hair. + +On the following Sunday morning, while Soames was shaving, a +message was brought him to the effect that Mr. Bosinney was +below, and would be glad to see him. Opening the door into his +wife's room, he said: + +"Bosinney's downstairs. Just go and entertain him while I finish +shaving. I'll be down in a minute. It's about the plans, I +expect." + +Irene looked at him, without reply, put the finishing touch to +her dress and went downstairs. He could not make her out about +this house. She had said nothing against it, and, as far as +Bosinney was concerned, seemed friendly enough. + +From the window of his dressing-room he could see them talking +together in the little court below. He hurried on with his +shaving, cutting his chin twice. He heard them laugh, and +thought to himself: "Well, they get on all right, anyway!" + +As he expected, Bosinney had come round to fetch him to look at +the plans. + +He took his hat and went over. + +The plans were spread on the oak table in the architect's room; +and pale, imperturbable, inquiring, Soames bent over them for a +long time without speaking. + +He said at last in a puzzled voice: + +"It's an odd sort of house!" + +A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle +round a covered-in court. This court, encircled by a gallery on +the upper floor, was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight +columns running up from the ground. + +It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house. + +"There's a lot of room cut to waste," pursued Soames. + +Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the +expression on his face. + +"The principle of this house," said the architect, "was that you +should have room to breathe--like a gentleman!" + +Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent +of the distinction he should acquire; and replied: + +"Oh! yes; I see." + +The peculiar look came into Bosinney's face which marked all his +enthusiasms. + +"I've tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of +its own. If you don't like it, you'd better say so. It's +certainly the last thing to be considered--who wants self-respect +in a house, when you can squeeze in an extra lavatory?" He put +his finger suddenly down on the left division of the centre +oblong: "You can swing a cat here. This is for your pictures, +divided from this court by curtains; draw them back and you'll +have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six. This double-faced +stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, one +way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; You've +a southeast light from that, a north light from the court. The +rest of your pictures you can hang round the gallery upstairs, or +in the other rooms." "In architecture," he went on--and though +looking at Soames he did not seem to see him, which gave Soames +an unpleasant feeling--"as in life, you'll get no self-respect +without regularity. Fellows tell you that's old fashioned. It +appears to be peculiar any way; it never occurs to us to embody +the main principle of life in our buildings; we load our houses +with decoration, gimcracks, corners, anything to distract the +eye. On the contrary the eye should rest; get your effects with +a few strong lines. The whole thing is regularity there's no +self-respect without it." + +Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinney's +tie, which was far from being in the perpendicular; he was +unshaven too, and his dress not remarkable for order. +Architecture appeared to have exhausted his regularity. + +"Won't it look like a barrack?" he inquired. + +He did not at once receive a reply. + +"I can see what it is," said Bosinney, "you want one of Little- +master's houses--one of the pretty and commodious sort, where the +servants will live in garrets, and the front door be sunk so that +you may come up again. By all means try Littlemaster, you'll +find him a capital fellow, I've known him all my life!" + +Soames was alarmed. He had really been struck by the plans, and +the concealment of his satisfaction had been merely instinctive. +It was difficult for him to pay a compliment. He despised people +who were lavish with their praises. + +He found himself now in the embarrassing position of one who must +pay a compliment or run the risk of losing a good thing. +Bosinney was just the fellow who might tear up the plans and +refuse to act for him; a kind of grown-up child! + +This grown-up childishness, to which he felt so superior, +exercised a peculiar and almost mesmeric effect on Soames, for he +had never felt anything like it in himself. + +"Well," he stammered at last, "it's--it's, certainly original." + +He had such a private distrust and even dislike of the word +'original' that he felt he had not really given himself away by +this remark. + +Bosinney seemed pleased. It was the sort of thing that would +please a fellow like that! And his success encouraged Soames. + +"It's--a big place," he said. + +"Space, air, light," he heard Bosinney murmur, "you can't live +like a gentleman in one of Littlemaster's--he builds for +manufacturers." + +Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a +gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed +with manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general +principles revived. What the deuce was the good of talking about +regularity and self-respect? It looked to him as if the house +would be cold. + +"Irene can't stand the cold!" he said. + +"Ah!" said Bosinney sarcastically. "Your wife? She doesn't like +the cold? I'll see to that; she shan't be cold. Look here!" he +pointed, to four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the +court. "I've given you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you +can get them with very good designs." + +Soames looked suspiciously at these marks. + +"It's all very well, all this," he said, "but what's it going to +cost?" + +The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket: + +"The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as +I thought you wouldn't stand that, I've compromised for a facing. +It ought to have a copper roof, but I've made it green slate. As +it is, including metal work, it'll cost you eight thousand five +hundred." + +"Eight thousand five hundred?" said Soames. "Why, I gave you an +outside limit of eight!" + +"Can't be done for a penny less," replied Bosinney coolly. + +"You must take it or leave it!" + +It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have +been made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to +throw the whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew +it--there was completeness about it, and dignity; the servants' +apartments were excellent too. He would gain credit by living in +a house like that--with such individual features, yet perfectly. +well-arranged. + +He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his +bedroom to shave and dress. + +The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames +watching him out of the corner of his eye. + +The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow--so he thought-- +when he was properly got up. + +Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in. + +She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June. + +"No, no," said Soames, "we've still got business to talk over!" + +At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to +eat. He was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, +and left him to spend the afternoon with Irene, while he stole +off to his pictures, after his Sunday habit. At tea-time he came +down to the drawing-room, and found them talking, as he expressed +it, nineteen to the dozen. + +Unobserved in the doorway, he congratulated himself that things +were taking the right turn. It was lucky she and Bosinney got +on; she seemed to be falling into line with the idea of the new +house. + +Quiet meditation among his pictures had decided him to spring the +five hundred if necessary; but he hoped that the afternoon might +have softened Bosinney's estimates. It was so purely a matter +which Bosinney could remedy if he liked; there must be a dozen +ways in which he could cheapen the production of a house without +spoiling the effect. + +He awaited, therefore, his opportunity till Irene was handing the +architect his first cup of tea. A chink of sunshine through the +lace of the blinds warmed her cheek, shone in the gold of her +hair, and in her soft eyes. Possibly the same gleam deepened +Bosinney's colour, gave the rather startled look to his face. + +Soames hated sunshine, and he at once got up, to draw the blind. +Then he took his own cup of tea from his wife, and said, more +coldly than he had intended: + +"Can't you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? +There must be a lot of little things you could alter." + +Bosinney drank off his tea at a gulp, put down his cup, and +answered: + +"Not one!" + +Soames saw that his suggestion had touched some unintelligible +point of personal vanity. + +"Well," he agreed, with sulky resignation; "you must have it your +own way, I suppose." + +A few minutes later Bosinney rose to go, and Soames rose too, to +see him off the premises. The architect seemed in absurdly high +spirits. After watching him walk away at a swinging pace, Soames +returned moodily to the drawing-room, where Irene was putting +away the music, and, moved by an uncontrollable spasm of +curiosity, he asked: + +"Well, what do you think of 'The Buccaneer'?" + +He looked at the carpet while waiting for her answer, and he had +to wait some time. + +"I don't know," she said at last. + +"Do you think he's good-looking?" + +Irene smiled. And it seemed to Soames that she was mocking him. + +"Yes," she answered; "very." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DEATH OF AUNT ANN + + +There came a morning at the end of September when Aunt Ann was +unable to take from Smither's hands the insignia of personal +dignity. After one look at the old face, the doctor, hurriedly +sent for, announced that Miss Forsyte had passed away in her +sleep. + +Aunts Juley and Hester were overwhelmed by the shock. They had +never imagined such an ending. Indeed, it is doubtful whether +they had ever realized that an ending was bound to come. +Secretly they felt it unreasonable of Ann to have left them like +this without a word, without even a struggle. It was unlike her. + +Perhaps what really affected them so profoundly was the thought +that a Forsyte should have let go her grasp on life. If one, +then why not all! + +It was a full hour before they could make up their minds to tell +Timothy. If only it could be kept from him! If only it could be +broken to him by degrees! + +And long they stood outside his door whispering together. And +when it was over they whispered together again. + +He would feel it more, they were afraid, as time went on. Still, +he had taken it better than could have been expected. He would +keep his bed, of course! + +They separated, crying quietly. + +Aunt Juley stayed in her room, prostrated by the blow. Her face, +discoloured by tears, was divided into compartments by the little +ridges of pouting flesh which had swollen with emotion. It was +impossible to conceive of life without Ann, who had lived with +her for seventy-three years, broken only by the short interregnum +of her married life, which seemed now so unreal. At fixed +intervals she went to her drawer, and took from beneath the +lavender bags a fresh pocket-handkerchief. Her warm heart could +not bear the thought that Ann was lying there so cold. + +Aunt Hester, the silent, the patient, that backwater of the +family energy, sat in the drawing-room, where the blinds were +drawn; and she, too, had wept at first, but quietly, without +visible effect. Her guiding principle, the conservation of +energy, did not abandon her in sorrow. She sat, slim, +motionless, studying the grate, her hands idle in the lap of her +black silk dress. They would want to rouse her into doing +something, no doubt. As if there were any good in that! Doing +something would not bring back Ann! Why worry her? + +Five o'clock brought three of the brothers, Jolyon and James and +Swithin; Nicholas was at Yarmouth, and Roger had a bad attack of +gout. Mrs. Hayman had been by herself earlier in the day, and, +after seeing Ann, had gone away, leaving a message for Timothy-- +which was kept from him--that she ought to have been told sooner. +In fact, there was a feeling amongst them all that they ought to +have been told sooner, as though they had missed something; and +James said: + +"I knew how it'd be; I told you she wouldn't last through the +summer." + +Aunt Hester made no reply; it was nearly October, but what was +the good of arguing; some people were never satisfied. + +She sent up to tell her sister that the brothers were there. +Mrs. Small came down at once. She had bathed her face, which was +still swollen, and though she looked severely at Swithin's +trousers, for they were of light blue--he had come straight from +the club, where the news had reached him--she wore a more cheerful +expression than usual, the instinct for doing the wrong thing +being even now too strong for her. + +Presently all five went up to look at the body. Under the pure +white sheet a quilted counter-pane had been placed, for now, more +than ever, Aunt Ann had need of warmth; and, the pillows removed, +her spine and head rested flat, with the semblance of their +life-long inflexibility; the coif banding the top of her brow was +drawn on either side to the level of the ears, and between it and +the sheet her face, almost as white, was turned with closed eyes +to the faces of her brothers and sisters. In its extraordinary +peace the face was stronger than ever, nearly all bone now under +the scarce-wrinkled parchment of skin--square jaw and chin, +cheekbones, forehead with hollow temples, chiselled nose--the +fortress of an unconquerable spirit that had yielded to death, +and in its upward sightlessness seemed trying to regain that +spirit, to regain the guardianship it had just laid down. + +Swithin took but one look at the face, and left the room; the +sight, he said afterwards, made him very queer. He went +downstairs shaking the whole house, and, seizing his hat, +clambered into his brougham, without giving any directions to the +coachman. He was driven home, and all the evening sat in his +chair without moving. + +He could take nothing for dinner but a partridge, with an +imperial pint of champagne.... + +Old Jolyon stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands folded in +front of him. He alone of those in the room remembered the death +of his mother, and though he looked at Ann, it was of that he was +thinking. Ann was an old woman, but death had come to her at +last--death came to all! His face did not move, his gaze seemed +travelling from very far. + +Aunt Hester stood beside him. She did not cry now, tears were +exhausted--her nature refused to permit a further escape of +force; she twisted her hands, looking not at Ann, but from side +to side, seeking some way of escaping the effort of realization. + +Of all the brothers and sisters James manifested the most +emotion. Tears rolled down the parallel furrows of his thin +face; where he should go now to tell his troubles he did not +know; Juley was no good, Hester worse than useless! He felt +Ann's death more than he had ever thought he should; this would +upset him for weeks! + +Presently Aunt Hester stole out, and Aunt Juley began moving +about, doing 'what was necessary,' so that twice she knocked +against something. Old Jolyon, roused from his reverie, that +reverie of the long, long past, looked sternly at her, and went +away. James alone was left by the bedside; glancing stealthily +round, to see that he was not observed, he twisted his long body +down, placed a kiss on the dead forehead, then he, too, hastily +left the room. Encountering Smither in the hall, he began to ask +her about the funeral, and, finding that she knew nothing, +complained bitterly that, if they didn't take care, everything +would go wrong. She had better send for Mr. Soames--he knew all +about that sort of thing; her master was very much upset, he +supposed--he would want looking after; as for her mistresses, +they were no good--they had no gumption! They would be ill too, +he shouldn't wonder. She had better send for the doctor; it was +best to take things in time. He didn't think his sister Ann had +had the best opinion; if she'd had Blank she would have been +alive now. Smither might send to Park Lane any time she wanted +advice. Of course, his carriage was at their service for the +funeral. He supposed she hadn't such a thing as a glass of +claret and a biscuit--he had had no lunch! + +The days before the funeral passed quietly. It had long been +known, of course, that Aunt Ann had left her little property to +Timothy. There was, therefore, no reason for the slightest +agitation. Soames, who was sole executor, took charge of all +arrangements, and in due course sent out the following invitation +to every male member of the family: + + +To........... + +Your presence is requested at the funeral of Miss Ann Forsyte, in +Highgate Cemetery, at noon of Oct. 1st. Carriages will meet at +"The Bower," Bayswater Road, at 10.45. No flowers by request. + +'R.S.V.P.' + + +The morning came, cold, with a high, grey, London sky, and at +half-past ten the first carriage, that of James, drove up. It +contained James and his son-in-law Dartie, a fine man, with a +square chest, buttoned very tightly into a frock coat, and a +sallow, fattish face adorned with dark, well-curled moustaches, +and that incorrigible commencement of whisker which, eluding the +strictest attempts at shaving, seems the mark of something deeply +ingrained in the personality of the shaver, being especially +noticeable in men who speculate. + +Soames, in his capacity of executor, received the guests, for +Timothy still kept his bed; he would get up after the funeral; +and Aunts Juley and Hester would not be coming down till all was +over, when it was understood there would be lunch for anyone who +cared to come back. The next to arrive was Roger, still limping +from the gout, and encircled by three of his sons--young Roger, +Eustace, and Thomas. George, the remaining son, arrived almost +immediately afterwards in a hansom, and paused in the hall to ask +Soames how he found undertaking pay. + +They disliked each other. + +Then came two Haymans--Giles and Jesse perfectly silent, and very +well dressed, with special creases down their evening trousers. +Then old Jolyon alone. Next, Nicholas, with a healthy colour in +his face, and a carefully veiled sprightliness in every movement +of his head and body. One of his sons followed him, meek and +subdued. Swithin Forsyte, and Bosinney arrived at the same +moment,--and stood--bowing precedence to each other,--but on the +door opening they tried to enter together; they renewed their +apologies in the hall, and, Swithin, settling his stock, which +had become disarranged in the struggle, very slowly mounted the +stairs. The other Hayman; two married sons of Nicholas, together +with Tweetyman, Spender, and Warry, the husbands of married +Forsyte and Hayman daughters. The company was then complete, +twenty-one in all, not a male member of the family being absent +but Timothy and young Jolyon. + +Entering the scarlet and green drawing-room, whose apparel made +so vivid a setting for their unaccustomed costumes, each tried +nervously to find a seat, desirous of hiding the emphatic +blackness of his trousers. There seemed a sort of indecency in +that blackness and in the colour of their gloves--a sort of +exaggeration of the feelings; and many cast shocked looks of +secret envy at 'the Buccaneer,' who had no gloves, and was +wearing grey trousers. A subdued hum of conversation rose, no +one speaking of the departed, but each asking after the other, as +though thereby casting an indirect libation to this event, which +they had come to honour. + +And presently James said: + +"Well, I think we ought to be starting." + +They went downstairs, and, two and two, as they had been told off +in strict precedence, mounted the carriages. + +The hearse started at a foot's pace; the carriages moved slowly +after. In the first went old Jolyon with Nicholas; in the +second, the twins, Swithin and James; in the third, Roger and +young Roger; Soames, young Nicholas, George, and Bosinney +followed in the fourth. Each of the other carriages, eight in +all, held three or four of the family; behind them came the +doctor's brougham; then, at a decent interval, cabs containing +family clerks and servants; and at the very end, one containing +nobody at all, but bringing the total cortege up to the number of +thirteen. + +So long as the procession kept to the highway of the Bayswater +Road, it retained the foot's-pace, but, turning into less +important thorough-fares, it soon broke into a trot, and so +proceeded, with intervals of walking in the more fashionable +streets, until it arrived. In the first carriage old Jolyon and +Nicholas were talking of their wills. In the second the twins, +after a single attempt, had lapsed into complete silence; both +were rather deaf, and the exertion of making themselves heard was +too great. Only once James broke this silence: + +"I shall have to be looking about for some ground somewhere. +What arrangements have you made, Swithin?" + +And Swithin, fixing him with a dreadful stare, answered: + +"Don't talk to me about such things!" + +In the third carriage a disjointed conversation was carried on in +the intervals of looking out to see how far they had got, George +remarking, "Well, it was really time that the poor old lady +went." He didn't believe in people living beyond seventy, Young +Nicholas replied mildly that the rule didn't seem to apply to the +Forsytes. George said he himself intended to commit suicide at +sixty. Young Nicholas, smiling and stroking a long chin, didn't +think his father would like that theory; he had made a lot of +money since he was sixty. Well, seventy was the outside limit; +it was then time, George said, for them to go and leave their +money to their children. Soames, hitherto silent, here joined +in; he had not forgotten the remark about the 'undertaking,' and, +lifting his eyelids almost imperceptibly, said it was all very +well for people who never made money to talk. He himself +intended to live as long as he could. This was a hit at George, +who was notoriously hard up. Bosinney muttered abstractedly +"Hear, hear!" and, George yawning, the conversation dropped. + +Upon arriving, the coffin was borne into the chapel, and, two by +two, the mourners filed in behind it. This guard of men, all +attached to the dead by the bond of kinship, was an impressive +and singular sight in the great city of London, with its +overwhelming diversity of life, its innumerable vocations, +pleasures, duties, its terrible hardness, its terrible call to +individualism. + +The family had gathered to triumph over all this, to give a show +of tenacious unity, to illustrate gloriously that law of property +underlying the growth of their tree, by which it had thriven and +spread, trunk and branches, the sap flowing through all, the full +growth reached at the appointed time. The spirit of the old +woman lying in her last sleep had called them to this +demonstration. It was her final appeal to that unity which had +been their strength--it was her final triumph that she had died +while the tree was yet whole. + +She was spared the watching of the branches jut out beyond the +point of balance. She could not look into the hearts of her +followers. The same law that had worked in her, bringing her up +from a tall, straight-backed slip of a girl to a woman strong +and grown, from a woman grown to a woman old, angular, feeble, +almost witchlike, with individuality all sharpened and sharpened, +as all rounding from the world's contact fell off from her--that +same law would work, was working, in the family she had watched +like a mother. + +She had seen it young, and growing, she had seen it strong and +grown, and before her old eyes had time or strength to see any +more, she died. She would have tried, and who knows but she +might have kept it young and strong, with her old fingers, her +trembling kisses--a little longer; alas! not even Aunt Ann could +fight with Nature. + +'Pride comes before a fall!' In accordance with this, the +greatest of Nature's ironies, the Forsyte family had gathered for +a last proud pageant before they fell. Their faces to right and +left, in single lines, were turned for the most part impassively +toward the ground, guardians of their thoughts; but here and +there, one looking upward, with a line between his brows, +searched to see some sight on the chapel walls too much for him, +to be listening to something that appalled. And the responses, +low-muttered, in voices through which rose the same tone, the +same unseizable family ring, sounded weird, as though murmured in +hurried duplication by a single person. + +The service in the chapel over, the mourners filed up again to +guard the body to the tomb. The vault stood open, and, round it, +men in black were waiting. + +From that high and sacred field, where thousands of the upper +middle class lay in their last sleep, the eyes of the Forsytes +travelled down across the flocks of graves. There--spreading to +the distance, lay London, with no sun over it, mourning the loss +of its daughter, mourning with this family, so dear, the loss of +her who was mother and guardian. A hundred thousand spires and +houses, blurred in the great grey web of property, lay there like +prostrate worshippers before the grave of this, the oldest +Forsyte of them all. + +A few words, a sprinkle of earth, the thrusting of the coffin +home, and Aunt Ann had passed to her last rest. + +Round the vault, trustees of that passing, the five brothers +stood, with white heads bowed; they would see that Ann was +comfortable where she was going. Her little property must stay +behind, but otherwise, all that could be should be done.... + +Then severally, each stood aside, and putting on his hat, turned +back to inspect the new inscription on the marble of the family +vault: + + +SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF ANN FORSYTE, +THE DAUGHTER OF THE ABOVE JOLYON +AND ANN FORSYTE, WHO DEPARTED +THIS LIFE THE 27TH DAY OF SEPTEMBER, +1886, AGED EIGHTY-SEVEN YEARS AND FOUR DAYS + + +Soon perhaps, someone else would be wanting an inscription. It +was strange and intolerable, for they had not thought somehow, +that Forsytes could die. And one and all they had a longing to +get away from this painfulness, this ceremony which had reminded +them of things they could not bear to think about--to get away +quickly and go about their business and forget. + +It was cold, too; the wind, like some slow, disintegrating force, +blowing up the hill over the graves, struck them with its chilly +breath; they began to split into groups, and as quickly as +possible to fill the waiting carriages. + +Swithin said he should go back to lunch at Timothy's, and he +offered to take anybody with him in his brougham. It was +considered a doubtful privilege to drive with Swithin in his +brougham, which was not a large one; nobody accepted, and he went +off alone. James and Roger followed immediately after; they also +would drop in to lunch. The others gradually melted away, Old +Jolyon taking three nephews to fill up his carriage; he had a +want of those young faces. + +Soames, who had to arrange some details in the cemetery office, +walked away with Bosinney. He had much to talk over with him, +and, having finished his business, they strolled to Hampstead, +lunched together at the Spaniard's Inn, and spent a long time in +going into practical details connected with the building of the +house; they then proceeded to the tram-line, and came as far as +the Marble Arch, where Bosinney went off to Stanhope Gate to see +June. + +Soames felt in excellent spirits when he arrived home, and +confided to Irene at dinner that he had had a good talk with +Bosinney, who really seemed a sensible fellow; they had had a +capital walk too, which had done his liver good--he had been +short of exercise for a long time--and altogether a very +satisfactory day. If only it hadn't been for poor Aunt Ann, he +would have taken her to the theatre; as it was, they must make +the best of an evening at home. + +"The Buccaneer asked after you more than once," he said +suddenly. And moved by some inexplicable desire to assert his +proprietorship, he rose from his chair and planted a kiss on +his wife's shoulder. + + + + + +PART II + + +CHAPTER I + +PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE + + +The winter had been an open one. Things in the trade were slack; +and as Soames had reflected before making up his mind, it had +been a good time for building. The shell of the house at Robin +Hill was thus completed by the end of April. + +Now that there was something to be seen for his money, he had +been coming down once, twice, even three times a week, and would +mouse about among the debris for hours, careful never to soil his +clothes, moving silently through the unfinished brickwork of +doorways, or circling round the columns in the central court. + +And he would stand before them for minutes' together, as though +peering into the real quality of their substance + +On April 30 he had an appointment with Bosinney to go over the +accounts, and five minutes before the proper time he entered the +tent which the architect had pitched for himself close to the old +oak tree. + +The accounts were already prepared on a folding table, and with +a nod Soames sat down to study them. It was some time before he +raised his head. + +"I can't make them out," he said at last; "they come to nearly +seven hundred more than they ought" + +After a glance at Bosinney's face he went on quickly: + +"If you only make a firm stand against these builder chaps you'll +get them down. They stick you with everything if you don't look +sharp.... Take ten per cent. off all round. I shan't mind it's +coming out a hundred or so over the mark!" + +Bosinney shook his head: + +"I've taken off every farthing I can!" + +Soames pushed back the table with a movement of anger, which sent +the account sheets fluttering to the ground. + +"Then all I can say is," he flustered out, "you've made a pretty +mess of it!" + +"I've told you a dozen times," Bosinney answered sharply, "that +there'd be extras. I've pointed them out to you over and over +again!" + +"I know that," growled Soames: "I shouldn't have objected to a ten +pound note here and there. How was I to know that by 'extras' +you meant seven hundred pounds?" + +The qualities of both men had contributed to this not- +inconsiderable discrepancy. On the one hand, the architect's +devotion to his idea, to the image of a house which he had created +and believed in--had made him nervous of being stopped, or forced +to the use of makeshifts; on the other, Soames' not less true and +wholehearted devotion to the very best article that could be +obtained for the money, had rendered him averse to believing that +things worth thirteen shillings could not be bought with twelve. + +I wish I'd never undertaken your house," said Bosinney suddenly. +"You come down here worrying me out of my life. You want double +the value for your money anybody else would, and now that you've +got a house that for its size is not to be beaten in the county, +you don't want to pay for it. If you're anxious to be off your +bargain, I daresay I can find the balance above the estimates +myself, but I'm d----d if I do another stroke of work for you!" + +Soames regained his composure. Knowing that Bosinney had no +capital, he regarded this as a wild suggestion. He saw, too, +that he would be kept indefinitely out of this house on which he +had set his heart, and just at the crucial point when the +architect's personal care made all the difference. In the +meantime there was Irene to be thought of! She had been very +queer lately. He really believed it was only because she had +taken to Bosinney that she tolerated the idea of the house at +all. It would not do to make an open breach with her. + +"You needn't get into a rage," he said. "If I'm willing to put +up with it, I suppose you needn't cry out. All I meant was that +when you tell me a thing is going to cost so much, I like to-- +well, in fact, I--like to know where I am." + +"Look here!" said Bosinney, and Soames was both annoyed and +surprised by the shrewdness of his glance. "You've got my +services dirt cheap. For the kind of work I've put into this +house, and the amount of time I've given to it, you'd have had to +pay Littlemaster or some other fool four times as much. What you +want, in fact, is a first-rate man for a fourth-rate fee, and +that's exactly what you've got!" + +Soames saw that he really meant what he said, and, angry though +he was, the consequences of a row rose before him too vividly. +He saw his house unfinished, his wife rebellious, himself a +laughingstock. + +"Let's go over it," he said sulkily, "and see how the money's +gone." + +"Very well," assented Bosinney. "But we'll hurry up, if you +don't mind. I have to get back in time to take June to the +theatre." + +Soames cast a stealthy look at him, and said: "Coming to our +place, I suppose to meet her?" He was always coming to their +place! + +There had been rain the night before-a spring rain, and the earth +smelt of sap and wild grasses. The warm, soft breeze swung the +leaves and the golden buds of the old oak tree, and in the +sunshine the blackbirds were whistling their hearts out. + +It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable +yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand +motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his +arms to embrace he knows not what. The earth gave forth a +fainting warmth, stealing up through the chilly garment in which +winter had wrapped her. It was her long caress of invitation, to +draw men down to lie within her arms, to roll their bodies on +her, and put their lips to her breast. + +On just such a day as this Soames had got from Irene the promise +he had asked her for so often. Seated on the fallen trunk of a +tree, he had promised for the twentieth time that if their +marriage were not a success, she should be as free as if she had +never married him! + +"Do you swear it?" she had said. A few days back she had +reminded him of that oath. He had answered: "Nonsense! I +couldn't have sworn any such thing!" By some awkward fatality he +remembered it now. What queer things men would swear for the +sake of women! He would have sworn it at any time to gain her! +He would swear it now, if thereby he could touch her--but nobody +could touch her, she was cold-hearted! + +And memories crowded on him with the fresh, sweet savour of the +spring wind-memories of his courtship. + +In the spring of the year 1881 he was visiting his old school- +fellow and client, George Liversedge, of Branksome, who, with +the view of developing his pine-woods in the neighbourhood of +Bournemouth, had placed the formation of the company necessary +to the scheme in Soames's hands. Mrs. Liversedge, with a sense +of the fitness of things, had given a musical tea in his honour. +Later in the course of this function, which Soames, no musician, +had regarded as an unmitigated bore, his eye had been caught by +the face of a girl dressed in mourning, standing by herself. The +lines of her tall, as yet rather thin figure, showed through the +wispy, clinging stuff of her black dress, her black-gloved hands +were crossed in front of her, her lips slightly parted, and her +large, dark eyes wandered from face to face. Her hair, done low +on her neck, seemed to gleam above her black collar like coils of +shining metal. And as Soames stood looking at her, the sensation +that most men have felt at one time or another went stealing +through him--a peculiar satisfaction of the senses, a peculiar +certainty, which novelists and old ladies call love at first +sight. Still stealthily watching her, he at once made his way to +his hostess, and stood doggedly waiting for the music to cease. + +"Who is that girl with yellow hair and dark eyes?" he asked. + +"That--oh! Irene Heron. Her father, Professor Heron, died this +year. She lives with her stepmother. She's a nice girl, a +pretty girl, but no money!" + +"Introduce me, please," said Soames. + +It was very little that he found to say, nor did he find her +responsive to that little. But he went away with the resolution +to see her again. He effected his object by chance, meeting her +on the pier with her stepmother, who had the habit of walking +there from twelve to one of a forenoon. Soames made this lady's +acquaintance with alacrity, nor was it long before he perceived +in her the ally he was looking for. His keen scent for the +commercial side of family life soon told him that Irene cost her +stepmother more than the fifty pounds a year she brought her; it +also told him that Mrs. Heron, a woman yet in the prime of life, +desired to be married again. The strange ripening beauty of her +stepdaughter stood in the way of this desirable consummation. +And Soames, in his stealthy tenacity, laid his plans. + +He left Bournemouth without having given himself away, but in a +month's time came back, and this time he spoke, not to the girl, +but to her stepmother. He had made up his mind, he said; he +would wait any time. And he had long to wait, watching Irene +bloom, the lines of her young figure softening, the stronger +blood deepening the gleam of her eyes, and warming her face to a +creamy glow; and at each visit he proposed to her, and when that +visit was at an end, took her refusal away with him, back to +London, sore at heart, but steadfast and silent as the grave. He +tried to come at the secret springs of her resistance; only once +had he a gleam of light. It was at one of those assembly dances, +which afford the only outlet to the passions of the population of +seaside watering-places. He was sitting with her in an +embrasure, his senses tingling with the contact of the waltz. +She had looked at him over her, slowly waving fan; and he had +lost his head. Seizing that moving wrist, he pressed his lips to +the flesh of her arm. And she had shuddered--to this day he had +not forgotten that shudder--nor the look so passionately averse +she had given him. + +A year after that she had yielded. What had made her yield he +could never make out; and from Mrs. Heron, a woman of some +diplomatic talent, he learnt nothing. Once after they were +married he asked her, "What made you refuse me so often?" She had +answered by a strange silence. An enigma to him from the day +that he first saw her, she was an enigma to him still.... + +Bosinney was waiting for him at the door; and on his rugged, +good-looking, face was a queer, yearning, yet happy look, as +though he too saw a promise of bliss in the spring sky, sniffed a +coming happiness in the spring air. Soames looked at him waiting +there. What was the matter with the fellow that he looked so +happy? What was he waiting for with that smile on his lips and +in his eyes? Soames could not see that for which Bosinney was +waiting as he stood there drinking in the flower-scented wind. +And once more he felt baffled in the presence of this man whom by +habit he despised. He hastened on to the house. + +"The only colour for those tiles," he heard Bosinney say,--"is +ruby with a grey tint in the stuff, to give a transparent effect. +I should like Irene's opinion. I'm ordering the purple leather +curtains for the doorway of this court; and if you distemper the +drawing-room ivory cream over paper, you'll get an illusive look. +You want to aim all through the decorations at what I call +charm." + +Soames said: "You mean that my wife has charm!" + +Bosinney evaded the question. + +"You should have a clump of iris plants in the centre of that +court." + +Soames smiled superciliously. + +"I'll look into Beech's some time," he said, "and see what's +appropriate!" + +They found little else to say to each other, but on the way to +the Station Soames asked: + +"I suppose you find Irene very artistic." + +"Yes." The abrupt answer was as distinct a snub as saying: "If +you want to discuss her you can do it with someone else!" + +And the slow, sulky anger Soames had felt all the afternoon +burned the brighter within him. + +Neither spoke again till they were close to the Station, then +Soames asked: + +"When do you expect to have finished?" + +"By the end of June, if you really wish me to decorate as well." + +Soames nodded. "But you quite understand," he said, "that the +house is costing me a lot beyond what I contemplated. I may as +well tell you that I should have thrown it up, only I'm not in +the habit of giving up what I've set my mind on." + +Bosinney made no reply. And Soames gave him askance a look of +dogged dislike--for in spite of his fastidious air and that +supercilious, dandified taciturnity, Soames, with his set lips +and squared chin, was not unlike a bulldog.... + +When, at seven o'clock that evening, June arrived at 62, +Montpellier Square, the maid Bilson told her that Mr. Bosinney +was in the drawing-room; the mistress--she said--was dressing, +and would be down in a minute. She would tell her that Miss June +was here. + +June stopped her at once. + +"All right, Bilson," she said, "I'll just go in. You, needn't +hurry Mrs. Soames." + +She took off her cloak, and Bilson, with an understanding look, +did not even open the drawing-room door for her, but ran +downstairs. + +June paused for a moment to look at herself in the little +old-fashioned silver mirror above the oaken rug chest--a slim, +imperious young figure, with a small resolute face, in a white +frock, cut moon-shaped at the base of a neck too slender for her +crown of twisted red-gold hair. + +She opened the drawing-room door softly, meaning to take him by +surprise. The room was filled with a sweet hot scent of +flowering azaleas. + +She took a long breath of the perfume, and heard Bosinney's +voice, not in the room, but quite close, saying. + +"Ah! there were such heaps of things I wanted to talk about, and +now we shan't have time!" + +Irene's voice answered: "Why not at dinner?" + +"How can one talk...." + +June's first thought was to go away, but instead she crossed to +the long window opening on the little court. It was from there +that the scent of the azaleas came, and, standing with their +backs to her, their faces buried in the golden-pink blossoms, +stood her lover and Irene. + +Silent but unashamed, with flaming cheeks and angry eyes, the +girl watched. + +"Come on Sunday by yourself--We can go over the house together." + +June saw Irene look up at him through her screen of blossoms. It +was not the look of a coquette, but--far worse to the watching +girl--of a woman fearful lest that look should say too much. + +"I've promised to go for a drive with Uncle...." + +"The big one! Make him bring you; it's only ten miles--the very +thing for his horses." + +"Poor old Uncle Swithin!" + +A wave of the azalea scent drifted into June's face; she felt +sick and dizzy. + +"Do! ah! do!" + +"But why?" + +"I must see you there--I thought you'd like to help me...." + +The answer seemed to the girl to come softly with a tremble from +amongst the blossoms: "So I do!" + +And she stepped into the open space of the window. + +"How stuffy it is here!" she said; "I can't bear this scent!" + +Her eyes, so angry and direct, swept both their faces. + +"Were you talking about the house? I haven't seen it yet, you +know--shall we all go on Sunday?"' + +From Irene's face the colour had flown. + +"I am going for a drive that day with Uncle Swithin," she +answered. + +"Uncle Swithin! What does he matter? You can throw him over!" + +"I am not in the habit of throwing people over!" + +There was a sound of footsteps and June saw Soames standing just +behind her. + +"Well! if you are all ready," said Irene, looking from one to +the other with a strange smile, "dinner is too!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JUNE'S TREAT + + +Dinner began in silence; the women facing one another, and the +men. + +In silence the soup was finished--excellent, if a little thick; +and fish was brought. In silence it was handed. + +Bosinney ventured: "It's the first spring day." + +Irene echoed softly: "Yes--the first spring day." + +"Spring!" said June: "there isn't a breath of air!" No one +replied. + +The fish was taken away, a fine fresh sole from Dover. And +Bilson brought champagne, a bottle swathed around the neck with +white.... + +Soames said: "You'll find it dry." + +Cutlets were handed, each pink-frilled about the legs. They were +refused by June, and silence fell. + +Soames said: "You'd better take a cutlet, June; there's nothing +coming." + +But June again refused, so they were borne away. And then Irene +asked: "Phil, have you heard my blackbird?" + +Bosinney answered: "Rather--he's got a hunting-song. As I came +round I heard him in the Square." + +"He's such a darling!" + +"Salad, sir?" Spring chicken was removed. + +But Soames was speaking: "The asparagus is very poor. Bosinney, +glass of sherry with your sweet? June, you're drinking nothing!" + +June said: "You know I never do. Wine's such horrid stuff!" + +An apple charlotte came upon a silver dish, and smilingly Irene +said: "The azaleas are so wonderful this year!" + +To this Bosinney murmured: "Wonderful! The scent's +extraordinary!" + +June said: "How can you like the scent? Sugar, please, Bilson." + +Sugar was handed her, and Soames remarked: "This charlottes +good!" + +The charlotte was removed. Long silence followed. Irene, +beckoning, said: "Take out the azalea, Bilson. Miss June can't +bear the scent." + +"No; let it stay," said June. + +Olives from France, with Russian caviare, were placed on little +plates. And Soames remarked: "Why can't we have the Spanish?" +But no one answered. + +The olives were removed. Lifting her tumbler June demanded: +"Give me some water, please." Water was given her. A silver tray +was brought, with German plums. There was a lengthy pause. In +perfect harmony all were eating them. + +Bosinney counted up the stones: "This year--next year--some time." + +Irene finished softly: "Never! There was such a glorious sunset. +The sky's all ruby still--so beautiful!" + +He answered: "Underneath the dark." + +Their eyes had met, and June cried scornfully: "A London sunset!" + +Egyptian cigarettes were handed in a silver box. Soames, taking +one, remarked: "What time's your play begin?" + +No one replied, and Turkish coffee followed in enamelled cups. + +Irene, smiling quietly, said: "If only...." + +"Only what?" said June. + +"If only it could always be the spring!" + +Brandy was handed; it was pale and old. + +Soames said: "Bosinney, better take some brandy." + +Bosinney took a glass; they all arose. + +"You want a cab?" asked Soames. + +June answered: "No! My cloaks please, Bilson." Her cloak was +brought. + +Irene, from the window, murmured: "Such a lovely night! The +stars are coming out!" + +Soames added: "Well, I hope you'll both enjoy yourselves." + +From the door June answered: "Thanks. Come, Phil." + +Bosinney cried: "I'm coming." + +Soames smiled a sneering smile, and said: "I wish you luck!" + +And at the door Irene watched them go. + +Bosinney called: "Good night!" + +"Good night!" she answered softly.... + +June made her lover take her on the top of a 'bus, saying she +wanted air, and there sat silent, with her face to the breeze. + +The driver turned once or twice, with the intention of venturing +a remark, but thought better of it. They were a lively couple! +The spring had got into his blood, too; he felt the need for +letting steam escape, and clucked his tongue, flourishing his +whip, wheeling his horses, and even they, poor things, had +smelled the spring, and for a brief half-hour spurned the +pavement with happy hoofs. + +The whole town was alive; the boughs, curled upward with their +decking of young leaves, awaited some gift the breeze could +bring. New-lighted lamps were gaining mastery, and the faces of +the crowd showed pale under that glare, while on high the great +white clouds slid swiftly, softly, over the purple sky. + +Men in, evening dress had thrown back overcoats, stepping +jauntily up the steps of Clubs; working folk loitered; and women- +-those women who at that time of night are solitary--solitary and +moving eastward in a stream--swung slowly along, with expectation +in their gait, dreaming of good wine and a good supper, or--for +an unwonted minute, of kisses given for love. + +Those countless figures, going their ways under the lamps and the +moving-sky, had one and all received some restless blessing from +the stir of spring. And one and all, like those clubmen with +their opened coats, had shed something of caste, and creed, and +custom, and by the cock of their hats, the pace of their walk, +their laughter, or their silence, revealed their common kinship +under the passionate heavens. + +Bosinney and June entered the theatre in silence, and mounted to +their seats in the upper boxes. The piece had just begun, and +the half-darkened house, with its rows of creatures peering all +one way, resembled a great garden of flowers turning their faces +to the sun. + +June had never before been in the upper boxes. From the age of +fifteen she had habitually accompanied her grandfather to the +stalls, and not common stalls, but the best seats in the house, +towards the centre of the third row, booked by old Jolyon, at +Grogan and Boyne's, on his way home from the City, long before +the day; carried in his overcoat pocket, together with his +cigar-case and his old kid gloves, and handed to June to keep till +the appointed night. And in those stalls--an erect old figure +with a serene white head, a little figure, strenuous and eager, +with a red-gold head--they would sit through every kind of play, +and on the way home old Jolyon would say of the principal actor: +"Oh, he's a poor stick! You should have seen little Bobson!" + +She had looked forward to this evening with keen delight; it was +stolen, chaperone-less, undreamed of at Stanhope Gate, where she +was supposed to be at Soames'. She had expected reward for her +subterfuge, planned for her lover's sake; she had expected it to +break up the thick, chilly cloud, and make the relations between +them which of late had been so puzzling, so tormenting--sunny and +simple again as they had been before the winter. She had come +with the intention of saying something definite; and she looked +at the stage with a furrow between her brows, seeing nothing, her +hands squeezed together in her lap. A swarm of jealous +suspicions stung and stung her. + +If Bosinney was conscious of her trouble he made no sign. + +The curtain dropped. The first act had come to an end. + +"It's awfully hot here!" said the girl; "I should like to go +out." + +She was very white, and she knew--for with her nerves thus +sharpened she saw everything--that he was both uneasy and +compunctious. + +At the back of the theatre an open balcony hung over the street; +she took possession of this, and stood leaning there without a +word, waiting for him to begin. + +At last she could bear it no longer. + +"I want to say something to you, Phil," she said. + +"Yes?" + +The defensive tone of his voice brought the colour flying to her +cheek, the words flying to her lips: "You don't give me a chance +to be nice to you; you haven't for ages now!" + +Bosinney stared down at the street. He made no answer.... + +June cried passionately: "You know I want to do everything for +you--that I want to be everything to you...." + +A hum rose from the street, and, piercing it with a sharp +'ping,' the bell sounded for the raising of the curtain. June did +not stir. A desperate struggle was going on within her. Should +she put everything to the proof? Should she challenge directly +that influence, that attraction which was driving him away from +her? It was her nature to challenge, and she said: "Phil, take +me to see the house on Sunday!" + +With a smile quivering and breaking on her lips, and trying, how +hard, not to show that she was watching, she searched his face, +saw it waver and hesitate, saw a troubled line come between his +brows, the blood rush into his face. He answered: "Not Sunday, +dear; some other day!" + +"Why not Sunday? I shouldn't be in the way on Sunday." + +He made an evident effort, and said: "I have an engagement." + +"You are going to take...." + +His eyes grew angry; he shrugged his shoulders, and answered: "An +engagement that will prevent my taking you to see the house!" + +June bit her lip till the blood came, and walked back to her seat +without another word, but she could not help the tears of rage +rolling down her face. The house had been mercifully darkened +for a crisis, and no one could see her trouble. + +Yet in this world of Forsytes let no man think himself immune +from observation. + +In the third row behind, Euphemia, Nicholas's youngest daughter, +with her married-sister, Mrs. Tweetyman, were watching. + +They reported at Timothy's, how they had seen June and her fiance +at the theatre. + +"In the stalls?" "No, not in the...." "Oh! in the dress +circle, of course. That seemed to be quite fashionable nowadays +with young people!" + +Well--not exactly. In the.... Anyway, that engagement wouldn't +last long. They had never seen anyone look so thunder and +lightningy as that little June! With tears of enjoyment in their +eyes, they related how she had kicked a man's hat as she returned +to her seat in the middle of an act, and how the man had looked. +Euphemia had a noted, silent laugh, terminating most disappoint- +ingly in squeaks; and when Mrs. Small, holding up her hands, said: +"My dear! Kicked a ha-at?" she let out such a number of these that +she had to be recovered with smelling-salts. As she went away +she said to Mrs. Tweetyman: + +"Kicked a--ha-at! Oh! I shall die." + +For 'that little June' this evening, that was to have been 'her +treat,' was the most miserable she had ever spent. God knows she +tried to stifle her pride, her suspicion, her jealousy! + +She parted from Bosinney at old Jolyon's door without breaking +down; the feeling that her lover must be conquered was strong +enough to sustain her till his retiring footsteps brought home +the true extent of her wretchedness. + +The noiseless 'Sankey' let her in. She would have slipped up to +her own room, but old Jolyon, who had heard her entrance, was in +the dining-room doorway. + +"Come in and have your milk," he said. "It's been kept hot for +you. You're very late. Where have you been?" + +June stood at the fireplace, with a foot on the fender and an arm +on the mantelpiece, as her grandfather had done when he came in +that night of the opera. She was too near a breakdown to care +what she told him. + +"We dined at Soames's." + +"H'm! the man of property! His wife there and Bosinney?" + +"Yes." + +Old Jolyon's glance was fixed on her with the penetrating gaze +from which it was difficult to hide; but she was not looking at +him, and when she turned her face, he dropped his scrutiny at +once. He had seen enough, and too much. He bent down to lift +the cup of milk for her from the hearth, and, turning away, +grumbled: "You oughtn't to stay out so late; it makes you fit for +nothing." + +He was invisible now behind his paper, which he turned with a +vicious crackle; but when June came up to kiss him, he said: +"Good-night, my darling," in a tone so tremulous and unexpected, +that it was all the girl could do to get out of the room without +breaking into the fit of sobbing which lasted her well on into +the night. + +When the door was closed, old Jolyon dropped his paper, and +stared long and anxiously in front of him. + +'The beggar!' he thought. 'I always knew she'd have trouble with +him!' + +Uneasy doubts and suspicions, the more poignant that he felt +himself powerless to check or control the march of events, came +crowding upon him. + +Was the fellow going to jilt her? He longed to go and say to +him: "Look here, you sir! Are you going to jilt my grand- +daughter?" But how could he? Knowing little or nothing, he +was yet certain, with his unerring astuteness, that there was +something going on. He suspected Bosinney of being too much at +Montpellier Square. + +'This fellow,' he thought, 'may not be a scamp; his face is not a +bad one, but he's a queer fish. I don't know what to make of +him. I shall never know what to make of him! They tell me he +works like a nigger, but I see no good coming of it. He's +unpractical, he has no method. When he comes here, he sits as +glum as a monkey. If I ask him what wine he'll have, he says: +"Thanks, any wine." If I offer him a cigar, he smokes it as if it +were a twopenny German thing. I never see him looking at June as +he ought to look at her; and yet, he's not after her money. If +she were to make a sign, he'd be off his bargain to-morrow. But +she won't--not she! She'll stick to him! She's as obstinate as +fate--She'll never let go!' + +Sighing deeply, he turned the paper; in its columns, perchance he +might find consolation. + +And upstairs in her room June sat at her open window, where the +spring wind came, after its revel across the Park, to cool her +hot cheeks and burn her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DRIVE WITH SWITHIN + + +Two lines of a certain song in a certain famous old school's +songbook run as follows: + +'How the buttons on his blue frock shone, tra-la-la! +How he carolled and he sang, like a bird!....' + +Swithin did not exactly carol and sing like a bird, but he felt +almost like endeavouring to hum a tune, as he stepped out of Hyde +Park Mansions, and contemplated his horses drawn up before the +door. + +The afternoon was as balmy as a day in June, and to complete the +simile of the old song, he had put on a blue frock-coat, +dispensing with an overcoat, after sending Adolf down three times +to make sure that there was not the least suspicion of east in +the wind; and the frock-coat was buttoned so tightly around his +personable form, that, if the buttons did not shine, they might +pardonably have done so. Majestic on the pavement he fitted on a +pair of dog-skin gloves; with his large bell-shaped top hat, and +his great stature and bulk he looked too primeval for a Forsyte. +His thick white hair, on which Adolf had bestowed a touch of +pomatum, exhaled the fragrance of opoponax and cigars--the +celebrated Swithin brand, for which he paid one hundred and +forty shillings the hundred, and of which old Jolyon had unkindly +said, he wouldn't smoke them as a gift; they wanted the stomach +of a horse! + +"Adolf!" + +"Sare!" + +"The new plaid rug!" + +He would never teach that fellow to look smart; and Mrs. Soames +he felt sure, had an eye! + +"The phaeton hood down; I am going--to--drive--a--lady!" + +A pretty woman would want to show off her frock; and well--he was +going to drive a lady! It was like a new beginning to the good +old days. + +Ages since he had driven a woman! The last time, if he +remembered, it had been Juley; the poor old soul had been as +nervous as a cat the whole time, and so put him out of patience +that, as he dropped her in the Bayswater Road, he had said: "Well +I'm d---d if I ever drive you again!" And he never had, not he! + +Going up to his horses' heads, he examined their bits; not that +he knew anything about bits--he didn't pay his coachman sixty +pounds a year to do his work for him, that had never been his +principle. Indeed, his reputation as a horsey man rested mainly +on the fact that once, on Derby Day, he had been welshed by some +thimble-riggers. But someone at the Club, after seeing him drive +his greys up to the door--he always drove grey horses, you got +more style for the money, some thought--had called him 'Four- +in-hand Forsyte.' The name having reached his ears through that +fellow Nicholas Treffry, old Jolyon's dead partner, the great +driving man notorious for more carriage accidents than any man in +the kingdom--Swithin had ever after conceived it right to act up +to it. The name had taken his fancy, not because he had ever +driven four-in-hand, or was ever likely to, but because of +something distinguished in the sound. Four-in-hand Forsyte! Not +bad! Born too soon, Swithin had missed his vocation. Coming +upon London twenty years later, he could not have failed to have +become a stockbroker, but at the time when he was obliged to +select, this great profession had not as yet became the chief +glory of the upper-middle class. He had literally been forced +into land agency. + +Once in the driving seat, with the reins handed to him, and +blinking over his pale old cheeks in the full sunlight, he took a +slow look round--Adolf was already up behind; the cockaded groom +at the horses' heads stood ready to let go; everything was +prepared for the signal, and Swithin gave it. The equipage +dashed forward, and before you could say Jack Robinson, with a +rattle and flourish drew up at Soames' door. + +Irene came out at once, and stepped in--he afterward described it +at Timothy's--"as light as--er--Taglioni, no fuss about it, no +wanting this or wanting that;" and above all, Swithin dwelt on +this, staring at Mrs. Septimus in a way that disconcerted her a +good deal, "no silly nervousness!" To Aunt Hester he portrayed +Irene's hat. "Not one of your great flopping things, sprawling +about, and catching the dust, that women are so fond of nowadays, +but a neat little--" he made a circular motion of his hand, "white +veil--capital taste." + +"What was it made of?" inquired Aunt Hester, who manifested a +languid but permanent excitement at any mention of dress. + +"Made of?" returned Swithin; "now how should I know?" + +He sank into silence so profound that Aunt Hester began to be +afraid he had fallen into a trance. She did not try to rouse him +herself, it not being her custom. + +'I wish somebody would come,' she thought; 'I don't like the look +of him!' + +But suddenly Swithin returned to life. "Made of" he wheezed out +slowly, "what should it be made of?" + +They had not gone four miles before Swithin received the +impression that Irene liked driving with him. Her face was so +soft behind that white veil, and her dark eyes shone so in the +spring light, and whenever he spoke she raised them to him and +smiled. + +On Saturday morning Soames had found her at her writing-table +with a note written to Swithin, putting him off. Why did she +want to put him off? he asked. She might put her own people off +when she liked, he would not have her putting off his people! + +She had looked at him intently, had torn up the note, and said: +"Very well!" + +And then she began writing another. He took a casual glance +presently, and saw that it was addressed to Bosinney. + +"What are you writing to him about?" he asked. + +Irene, looking at him again with that intent look, said quietly: +"Something he wanted me to do for him!" + +"Humph!" said Soames,--"Commissions!" + +"You'll have your work cut out if you begin that sort of thing!" +He said no more. + +Swithin opened his eyes at the mention of Robin Hill; it was a +long way for his horses, and he always dined at half-past seven, +before the rush at the Club began; the new chef took more trouble +with an early dinner--a lazy rascal! + +He would like to have a look at the house, however. A house +appealed to any Forsyte, and especially to one who had been an +auctioneer. After all he said the distance was nothing. When he +was a younger man he had had rooms at Richmond for many years, +kept his carriage and pair there, and drove them up and down to +business every day of his life. + +Four-in-hand Forsyte they called him! His T-cart, his horses had +been known from Hyde Park Corner to the Star and Garter. The +Duke of Z.... wanted to get hold of them, would have given him +double the money, but he had kept them; know a good thing when +you have it, eh? A look of solemn pride came portentously on his +shaven square old face, he rolled his head in his stand-up +collar, like a turkey-cock preening himself. + +She was really--a charming woman! He enlarged upon her frock +afterwards to Aunt Juley, who held up her hands at his way of +putting it. + +Fitted her like a skin--tight as a drum; that was how he liked +'em, all of a piece, none of your daverdy, scarecrow women! He +gazed at Mrs. Septimus Small, who took after James--long and +thin. + +"There's style about her," he went on, "fit for a king! And +she's so quiet with it too!" + +"She seems to have made quite a conquest of you, any way," +drawled Aunt Hester from her corner. + +Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him. + +"What's that?" he said. "I know a--pretty--woman when I see one, +and all I can say is, I don't see the young man about that's fit +for her; but perhaps--you--do, come, perhaps--you-do!" + +"Oh?" murmured Aunt Hester, "ask Juley!" + +Long before they reached Robin Hill, however, the unaccustomed +airing had made him terribly sleepy; he drove with his eyes +closed, a life-time of deportment alone keeping his tall and +bulky form from falling askew. + +Bosinney, who was watching, came out to meet them, and all three +entered the house together; Swithin in front making play with a +stout gold-mounted Malacca cane, put into his hand by Adolf, for +his knees were feeling the effects of their long stay in the same +position. He had assumed his fur coat, to guard against the +draughts of the unfinished house. + +The staircase--he said--was handsome! the baronial style! They +would want some statuary about! He came to a standstill between +the columns of the doorway into the inner court, and held out his +cane inquiringly. + +What was this to be--this vestibule, or whatever they called it? +But gazing at the skylight, inspiration came to him. + +"Ah! the billiard-room!" + +When told it was to be a tiled court with plants in the centre, +he turned to Irene: + +"Waste this on plants? You take my advice and have a billiard +table here!" + +Irene smiled. She had lifted her veil, banding it like a nun's +coif across her forehead, and the smile of her dark eyes below +this seemed to Swithin more charming than ever. He nodded. She +would take his advice he saw. + +He had little to say of the drawing or dining-rooms, which he +described as 'spacious"; but fell into such raptures as he +permitted to a man of his dignity, in the wine-cellar, to which +he descended by stone steps, Bosinney going first with a light. + +"You'll have room here," he said, "for six or seven hundred +dozen--a very pooty little cellar!" + +Bosinney having expressed the wish to show them the house from +the copse below, Swithin came to a stop. + +"There's a fine view from here," he remarked; "you haven't such a +thing as a chair?" + +A chair was brought him from Bosinney's tent. + +"You go down," he said blandly; "you two! I'll sit here and look +at the view." + +He sat down by the oak tree, in the sun; square and upright, with +one hand stretched out, resting on the nob of his cane, the other +planted on his knee; his fur coat thrown open, his hat, roofing +with its flat top the pale square of his face; his stare, very +blank, fixed on the landscape. + +He nodded to them as they went off down through the fields. He +was, indeed, not sorry to be left thus for a quiet moment of +reflection. The air was balmy, not too much heat in the sun; the +prospect a fine one, a remarka.... His head fell a little to one +side; he jerked it up and thought: Odd! He--ah! They were +waving to him from the bottom! He put up his hand, and moved it +more than once. They were active--the prospect was remar.... +His head fell to the left, he jerked it up at once; it fell to +the right. It remained there; he was asleep. + +And asleep, a sentinel on the--top of the rise, he appeared to +rule over this prospect--remarkable--like some image blocked out +by the special artist, of primeval Forsytes in pagan days, to +record the domination of mind over matter! + +And all the unnumbered generations of his yeoman ancestors, wont +of a Sunday to stand akimbo surveying their little plots of land, +their grey unmoving eyes hiding their instinct with its hidden +roots of violence, their instinct for possession to the exclusion +of all the world--all these unnumbered generations seemed to sit +there with him on the top of the rise. + +But from him, thus slumbering, his jealous Forsyte spirit +travelled far, into God-knows-what jungle of fancies; with those +two young people, to see what they were doing down there in the +copse--in the copse where the spring was running riot with the +scent of sap and bursting buds, the song of birds innumerable, a +carpet of bluebells and sweet growing things, and the sun caught +like gold in the tops of the trees; to see what they were doing, +walking along there so close together on the path that was too +narrow; walking along there so close that they were always +touching; to watch Irene's eyes, like dark thieves, stealing the +heart out of the spring. And a great unseen chaperon, his spirit +was there, stopping with them to look at the little furry corpse +of a mole, not dead an hour, with his mushroom-and-silver coat +untouched by the rain or dew; watching over Irene's bent head, +and the soft look of her pitying eyes; and over that young man's +head, gazing at her so hard, so strangely. Walking on with them, +too, across the open space where a wood-cutter had been at work, +where the bluebells were trampled down, and a trunk had swayed +and staggered down from its gashed stump. Climbing it with them, +over, and on to the very edge of the copse, whence there +stretched an undiscovered country, from far away in which came +the sounds, 'Cuckoo-cuckoo!' + +Silent, standing with them there, and uneasy at their silence! +Very queer, very strange! + +Then back again, as though guilty, through the wood--back to the +cutting, still silent, amongst the songs of birds that never +ceased, and the wild scent--hum! what was it--like that herb +they put in--back to the log across the path.... + +And then unseen, uneasy, flapping above them, trying to make +noises, his Forsyte spirit watched her balanced on the log, her +pretty figure swaying, smiling down at that young man gazing up +with such strange, shining eyes, slipping now--a--ah! falling, +o--oh! sliding--down his breast; her soft, warm body clutched, +her head bent back from his lips; his kiss; her recoil; his cry: +"You must know--I love you!" Must know--indeed, a pretty...? +Love! Hah! + +Swithin awoke; virtue had gone out of him. He had a taste in his +mouth. Where was he? + +Damme! He had been asleep! + +He had dreamed something about a new soup, with a taste of mint +in it. + +Those young people--where had they got to? His left leg had pins +and needles. + +"Adolf!" The rascal was not there; the rascal was asleep +somewhere. + +He stood up, tall, square, bulky in his fur, looking anxiously +down over the fields, and presently he saw them coming. + +Irene was in front; that young fellow--what had they nicknamed +him--'The Buccaneer?' looked precious hangdog there behind her; +had got a flea in his ear, he shouldn't wonder. Serve him right, +taking her down all that way to look at the house! The proper +place to look at a house from was the lawn. + +They saw him. He extended his arm, and moved it spasmodically to +encourage them. But they had stopped. What were they standing +there for, talking--talking? They came on again. She had been, +giving him a rub, he had not the least doubt of it, and no +wonder, over a house like that--a great ugly thing, not the sort +of house he was accustomed to. + +He looked intently at their faces, with his pale, immovable +stare. That young man looked very queer! + +"You'll never make anything of this!" he said tartly, pointing at +the mansion;--"too newfangled!" + +Bosinney gazed at him as though he had not heard; and Swithin +afterwards described him to Aunt Hester as "an extravagant sort +of fellow very odd way of looking at you--a bumpy beggar!" + +What gave rise to this sudden piece of psychology he did not +state; possibly Bosinney's, prominent forehead and cheekbones and +chin, or something hungry in his face, which quarrelled with +Swithin's conception of the calm satiety that should characterize +the perfect gentleman. + +He brightened up at the mention of tea. He had a contempt for +tea--his brother Jolyon had been in tea; made a lot of money by +it--but he was so thirsty, and had such a taste in his mouth, +that he was prepared to drink anything. He longed to inform +Irene of the taste in his mouth--she was so sympathetic--but it +would not be a distinguished thing to do; he rolled his tongue +round, and faintly smacked it against his palate. + +In a far corner of the tent Adolf was bending his cat-like +moustaches over a kettle. He left it at once to draw the cork of +a pint-bottle of champagne. Swithin smiled, and, nodding at +Bosinney, said: "Why, you're quite a Monte Cristo!" This +celebrated novel--one of the half-dozen he had read--had produced +an extraordinary impression on his mind. + +Taking his glass from the table, he held it away from him to +scrutinize the colour; thirsty as he was, it was not likely that +he was going to drink trash! Then, placing it to his lips, he +took a sip. + +"A very nice wine," he said at last, passing it before his nose; +"not the equal of my Heidsieck!" + +It was at this moment that the idea came to him which he +afterwards imparted at Timothy's in this nutshell: "I shouldn't +wonder a bit if that architect chap were sweet upon Mrs. Soames!" + +And from this moment his pale, round eyes never ceased to bulge +with the interest of his discovery. + +"The fellow," he said to Mrs. Septimus, "follows her about with +his eyes like a dog--the bumpy beggar! I don't wonder at it-- +she's a very charming woman, and, I should say, the pink of +discretion!" A vague consciousness of perfume caging about +Irene, like that from a flower with half-closed petals and a +passionate heart, moved him to the creation of this image. "But +I wasn't sure of it," he said, "till I saw him pick up her +handkerchief." + +Mrs. Small's eyes boiled with excitement. + +"And did he give it her back?" she asked. + +"Give it back?" said Swithin: "I saw him slobber on it when he +thought I wasn't looking!" + +Mrs. Small gasped--too interested to speak. + +"But she gave him no encouragement," went on Swithin; he stopped, +and stared for a minute or two in the way that alarmed Aunt +Hester so--he had suddenly recollected that, as they were +starting back in the phaeton, she had given Bosinney her hand a +second time, and let it stay there too.... He had touched his +horses smartly with the whip, anxious to get her all to himself. +But she had looked back, and she had not answered his first +question; neither had he been able to see her face--she had kept +it hanging down. + +There is somewhere a picture, which Swithin has not seen, of a +man sitting on a rock, and by him, immersed in the still, green +water, a sea-nymph lying on her back, with her hand on her naked +breast. She has a half-smile on her face--a smile of hopeless +surrender and of secret joy. + +Seated by Swithin's side, Irene may have been smiling like that. + +When, warmed by champagne, he had her all to himself, he +unbosomed himself of his wrongs; of his smothered resentment +against the new chef at the club; his worry over the house in +Wigmore Street, where the rascally tenant had gone bankrupt +through helping his brother-in-law as if charity did not begin at +home; of his deafness, too, and that pain he sometimes got in his +right side. She listened, her eyes swimming under their lids. +He thought she was thinking deeply of his troubles, and pitied +himself terribly. Yet in his fur coat, with frogs across the +breast, his top hat aslant, driving this beautiful woman, he had +never felt more distinguished. + +A coster, however, taking his girl for a Sunday airing, seemed to +have the same impression about himself. This person had flogged +his donkey into a gallop alongside, and sat, upright as a +waxwork, in his shallopy chariot, his chin settled pompously on a +red handkerchief, like Swithin's on his full cravat; while his +girl, with the ends of a fly-blown boa floating out behind, aped +a woman of fashion. Her swain moved a stick with a ragged bit of +string dangling from the end, reproducing with strange fidelity +the circular flourish of Swithin's whip, and rolled his head at +his lady with a leer that had a weird likeness to Swithin's +primeval stare. + +Though for a time unconscious of the lowly ruffian's presence, +Swithin presently took it into his head that he was being guyed. +He laid his whip-lash across the mares flank. The two chariots, +however, by some unfortunate fatality continued abreast. +Swithin's yellow, puffy face grew red; he raised his whip to lash +the costermonger, but was saved from so far forgetting his +dignity by a special intervention of Providence. A carriage +driving out through a gate forced phaeton and donkey-cart into +proximity; the wheels grated, the lighter vehicle skidded, and +was overturned. + +Swithin did not look round. On no account would he have pulled +up to help the ruffian. Serve him right if he had broken his +neck! + +But he could not if he would. The greys had taken alarm. The +phaeton swung from side to side, and people raised frightened +faces as they went dashing past. Swithin's great arms, stretched +at full length, tugged at the reins. His cheeks were puffed, his +lips compressed, his swollen face was of a dull, angry red. + +Irene had her hand on the rail, and at every lurch she gripped it +tightly. Swithin heard her ask: + +"Are we going to have an accident, Uncle Swithin?" + +He gasped out between his pants: "It's nothing; a--little fresh!" + +"I've never been in an accident." + +"Don't you move!" He took a look at her. She was smiling, +perfectly calm. "Sit still," he repeated. "Never fear, I'll get +you home!" + +And in the midst of all his terrible efforts, he was surprised to +hear her answer in a voice not like her own: + +"I don't care if I never get home!" + +The carriage giving a terrific lurch, Swithin's exclamation was +jerked back into his throat. The horses, winded by the rise of a +hill, now steadied to a trot, and finally stopped of their own +accord. + +"When"--Swithin described it at Timothy's--"I pulled 'em up, +there she was as cool as myself. God bless my soul! she behaved +as if she didn't care whether she broke her neck or not! What +was it she said: 'I don't care if I never get home?" Leaning over +the handle of his cane, he wheezed out, to Mrs. Small's terror: +"And I'm not altogether surprised, with a finickin' feller like +young Soames for a husband!" + +It did not occur to him to wonder what Bosinney had done after +they had left him there alone; whether he had gone wandering +about like the dog to which Swithin had compared him; wandering +down to that copse where the spring was still in riot, the cuckoo +still calling from afar; gone down there with her handkerchief +pressed to lips, its fragrance mingling with the scent of mint +and thyme. Gone down there with such a wild, exquisite pain in +his heart that he could have cried out among the trees. Or what, +indeed, the fellow had done. In fact, till he came to Timothy's, +Swithin had forgotten all about him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JAMES GOES TO SEE FOR HIMSELF + + +Those ignorant of Forsyte 'Change would not, perhaps, foresee all +the stir made by Irene's visit to the house. + +After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his +memorable drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, +the merest touch of malice, and a real desire to do good, was +passed on to June. + +"And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; +"that about not going home. What did she mean?" + +It was a strange recital for the girl. She heard it flushing +painfully, and, suddenly, with a curt handshake, took her +departure. + +"Almost rude!" Mrs. Small said to Aunt Hester, when June was +gone. + +The proper construction was put on her reception of the news. +She was upset. Something was therefore very wrong. Odd! She +and Irene had been such friends! + +It all tallied too well with whispers and hints that had been +going about for some time past. Recollections of Euphemia's +account of the visit to the theatre--Mr. Bosinney always at +Soames's? Oh, indeed! Yes, of course, he would be about the +house! Nothing open. Only upon the greatest, the most important +provocation was it necessary to say anything open on Forsyte +'Change. This machine was too nicely adjusted; a hint, the +merest trifling expression of regret or doubt, sufficed to set +the family soul so sympathetic--vibrating. No one desired that +harm should come of these vibrations--far from it; they were set +in motion with the best intentions, with the feeling, that each +member of the family had a stake in the family soul. + +And much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip; it would +frequently result in visits of condolence being made, in +accordance with the customs of Society, thereby conferring a real +benefit upon the sufferers, and affording consolation to the +sound, who felt pleasantly that someone at all events was +suffering from that from which they themselves were not +suffering. In fact, it was simply a desire to keep things +well-aired, the desire which animates the Public Press, that +brought James, for instance, into communication with Mrs. +Septimus, Mrs. Septimus, with the little Nicholases, the little +Nicholases with who-knows-whom, and so on. That great class to +which they had risen, and now belonged, demanded a certain +candour, a still more certain reticence. This combination +guaranteed their membership. + +Many of the younger Forsytes felt, very naturally, and would +openly declare, that they did not want their affairs pried into; +but so powerful was the invisible, magnetic current of family +gossip, that for the life of them they could not help knowing all +about everything. It was felt to be hopeless. + +One of them (young Roger) had made an heroic attempt to free the +rising generation, by speaking of Timothy as an 'old cat.' The +effort had justly recoiled upon himself; the words, coming round +in the most delicate way to Aunt Juley's ears, were repeated by +her in a shocked voice to Mrs. Roger, whence they returned again +to young Roger. + +And, after all, it was only the wrong-doers who suffered; as, for +instance, George, when he lost all that money playing billiards; +or young Roger himself, when he was so dreadfully near to +marrying the girl to whom, it was whispered, he was already +married by the laws of Nature; or again Irene, who was thought, +rather than said, to be in danger. + +All this was not only pleasant but salutary. And it made so many +hours go lightly at Timothy's in the Bayswater Road; so many +hours that must otherwise have been sterile and heavy to those +three who lived there; and Timothy's was but one of hundreds of +such homes in this City of London--the homes of neutral persons +of the secure classes, who are out of the battle themselves, and +must find their reason for existing, in the battles of others. + +But for the sweetness of family gossip, it must indeed have been +lonely there. Rumours and tales, reports, surmises--were they +not the children of the house, as dear and precious as the +prattling babes the brother and sisters had missed in their own +journey? To talk about them was as near as they could get to +the possession of all those children and grandchildren, after +whom their soft hearts yearned. For though it is doubtful +whether Timothy's heart yearned, it is indubitable that at the +arrival of each fresh Forsyte child he was quite upset. + +Useless for young Roger to say, "Old cat!" for Euphemia to hold up +her hands and cry: "Oh! those three!" and break into her silent +laugh with the squeak at the end. Useless, and not too kind. + +The situation which at this stage might seem, and especially to +Forsyte eyes, strange--not to say 'impossible'--was, in view of +certain facts, not so strange after all. Some things had been +lost sight of. And first, in the security bred of many harmless +marriages, it had been forgotten that Love is no hot-house +flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour +of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a +wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within +the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms +outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and +colour are always, wild! And further--the facts and figures of +their own lives being against the perception of this truth--it +was not generally recognised by Forsytes that, where, this wild +plant springs, men and women are but moths around the pale, +flame-like blossom. + +It was long since young Jolyon's escapade--there was danger of a +tradition again arising that people in their position never cross +the hedge to pluck that flower; that one could reckon on having +love, like measles, once in due season, and getting over it +comfortably for all time--as with measles, on a soothing mixture +of butter and honey--in the arms of wedlock. + +Of all those whom this strange rumour about Bosinney and Mrs. +Soames reached, James was the most affected. He had long +forgotten how he had hovered, lanky and pale, in side whiskers of +chestnut hue, round Emily, in the days of his own courtship. He +had long forgotten the small house in the purlieus of Mayfair, +where he had spent the early days of his married life, or rather, +he had long forgotten the early days, not the small house,--a +Forsyte never forgot a house--he had afterwards sold it at a +clear profit of four hundred pounds. + +He had long forgotten those days, with their hopes and fears and +doubts about the prudence of the match (for Emily, though pretty, +had nothing, and he himself at that time was making a bare +thousand a year), and that strange, irresistible attraction which +had drawn him on, till he felt he must die if he could not marry +the girl with the fair hair, looped so neatly back, the fair arms +emerging from a skin-tight bodice, the fair form decorously +shielded by a cage of really stupendous circumference. + +James had passed through the fire, but he had passed also through +the river of years which washes out the fire; he had experienced +the saddest experience of all--forgetfulness of what it was like +to be in love. + +Forgotten! Forgotten so long, that he had forgotten even that he +had forgotten. + +And now this rumour had come upon him, this rumour about his +son's wife; very vague, a shadow dodging among the palpable, +straightforward appearances of things, unreal, unintelligible as +a ghost, but carrying with it, like a ghost, inexplicable terror. + +He tried to bring it home to his mind, but it was no more use +than trying to apply to himself one of those tragedies he read of +daily in his evening paper. He simply could not. There could be +nothing in it. It was all their nonsense. She didn't get on +with Soames as well as she might, but she was a good little +thing--a good little thing! + +Like the not inconsiderable majority of men, James relished a +nice little bit of scandal, and would say, in a matter-of-fact +tone, licking his lips, "Yes, yes--she and young Dyson; they tell +me they're living at Monte Carlo!" + +But the significance of an affair of this sort--of its past, its +present, or its future--had never struck him. What it meant, +what torture and raptures had gone to its construction, what +slow, overmastering fate had lurked within the facts, very naked, +sometimes sordid, but generally spicy, presented to his gaze. He +was not in the habit of blaming, praising, drawing deductions, or +generalizing at all about such things; he simply listened rather +greedily, and repeated what he was told, finding considerable +benefit from the practice, as from the consumption of a sherry +and bitters before a meal. + +Now, however, that such a thing--or rather the rumour, the breath +of it--had come near him personally, he felt as in a fog, which +filled his mouth full of a bad, thick flavour, and made it +difficult to draw breath. + +A scandal! A possible scandal! + +To repeat this word to himself thus was the only way in which he +could focus or make it thinkable. He had forgotten the +sensations necessary for understanding the progress, fate, or +meaning of any such business; he simply could no longer grasp the +possibilities of people running any risk for the sake of passion. + +Amongst all those persons of his acquaintance, who went into the +City day after day and did their business there, whatever it was, +and in their leisure moments bought shares, and houses, and ate +dinners, and played games, as he was told, it would have seemed +to him ridiculous to suppose that there were any who would run +risks for the sake of anything so recondite, so figurative, as +passion. + +Passion! He seemed, indeed, to have heard of it, and rules such +as 'A young man and a young woman ought never to be trusted +together' were fixed in his mind as the parallels of latitude are +fixed on a map (for all Forsytes, when it comes to 'bed-rock' +matters of fact, have quite a fine taste in realism); but as to +anything else--well, he could only appreciate it at all through +the catch-word 'scandal.' + +Ah! but there was no truth in it--could not be. He was not +afraid; she was really a good little thing. But there it was +when you got a thing like that into your mind. And James was of +a nervous temperament--one of those men whom things will not +leave alone, who suffer tortures from anticipation and +indecision. For fear of letting something slip that he might +otherwise secure, he was physically unable to make up his mind +until absolutely certain that, by not making it up, he would +suffer loss. + +In life, however, there were many occasions when the business of +making up his mind did not even rest with himself, and this was +one of them. + +What could he do? Talk it over with Soames? That would only +make matters worse. And, after all, there was nothing in it, he +felt sure. + +It was all that house. He had mistrusted the idea from the +first. What did Soames want to go into the country for? And, if +he must go spending a lot of money building himself a house, why +not have a first-rate man, instead of this young Bosinney, whom +nobody knew anything about? He had told them how it would be. +And he had heard that the house was costing Soames a pretty penny +beyond what he had reckoned on spending. + +This fact, more than any other, brought home to James the real +danger of the situation. It was always like this with these +'artistic' chaps; a sensible man should have nothing to say to +them. He had warned Irene, too. And see what had come of it! + +And it suddenly sprang into James's mind that he ought to go and +see for himself. In the midst of that fog of uneasiness in which +his mind was enveloped the notion that he could go and look at +the house afforded him inexplicable satisfaction. It may have +been simply the decision to do something--more possibly the fact +that he was going to look at a house--that gave him relief. +He felt that in staring at an edifice of bricks and mortar, of +wood and stone, built by the suspected man himself, he would be +looking into the heart of that rumour about Irene. + +Without saying a word, therefore, to anyone, he took a hansom to +the station and proceeded by train to Robin Hill; thence--there +being no 'flies,' in accordance with the custom of the +neighbourhood--he found himself obliged to walk. + +He started slowly up the hill, his angular knees and high +shoulders bent complainingly, his eyes fixed on his feet, yet, +neat for all that, in his high hat and his frock-coat, on which +was the speckless gloss imparted by perfect superintendence. +Emily saw to that; that is, she did not, of course, see to it-- +people of good position not seeing to each other's buttons, and +Emily was of good position--but she saw that the butler saw to +it. + +He had to ask his way three times; on each occasion he repeated +the directions given him, got the man to repeat them, then +repeated them a second time, for he was naturally of a talkative +disposition, and one could not be too careful in a new +neighbourhood. + +He kept assuring them that it was a new house he was looking for; +it was only, however, when he was shown the roof through the +trees that he could feel really satisfied that he had not been +directed entirely wrong. + +A heavy sky seemed to cover the world with the grey whiteness of +a whitewashed ceiling. There was no freshness or fragrance in +the air. On such a day even British workmen scarcely cared to do +more then they were obliged, and moved about their business +without the drone of talk which whiles away the pangs of labour. + +Through spaces of the unfinished house, shirt-sleeved figures +worked slowly, and sounds arose--spasmodic knockings, the +scraping of metal, the sawing of wood, with the rumble of +wheelbarrows along boards; now and again the foreman's dog, +tethered by a string to an oaken beam, whimpered feebly, with a +sound like the singing of a kettle. + +The fresh-fitted window-panes, daubed each with a white patch in +the centre, stared out at James like the eyes of a blind dog. + +And the building chorus went on, strident and mirthless under the +grey-white sky. But the thrushes, hunting amongst the fresh- +turned earth for worms, were silent quite. + +James picked his way among the heaps of gravel--the drive was +being laid--till he came opposite the porch. Here he stopped and +raised his eyes. There was but little to see from this point of +view, and that little he took in at once; but he stayed in this +position many minutes, and who shall know of what he thought. + +His china-blue eyes under white eyebrows that jutted out in +little horns, never stirred; the long upper lip of his wide +mouth, between the fine white whiskers, twitched once or twice; +it was easy to see from that anxious rapt expression, whence +Soames derived the handicapped look which sometimes came upon his +face. James might have been saying to himself: 'I don't know-- +life's a tough job.' + +In this position Bosinney surprised him. + +James brought his eyes down from whatever bird's-nest they had +been looking for in the sky to Bosinney's face, on which was a +kind of humorous scorn. + +"How do you do, Mr. Forsyte? Come down to see for yourself?" + +It was exactly what James, as we know, had come for, and he was +made correspondingly uneasy. He held out his hand, however, +saying: + +"How are you?" without looking at Bosinney. + +The latter made way for him with an ironical smile. + +James scented something suspicious in this courtesy. "I should +like to walk round the outside first," he said, "and see what +you've been doing!" + +A flagged terrace of rounded stones with a list of two or three +inches to port had been laid round the south-east and south-west +sides of the house, and ran with a bevelled edge into mould, +which was in preparation for being turfed; along this terrace +James led the way. + +"Now what did this cost?" he asked, when he saw the terrace +extending round the corner. + +"What should you think?" inquired Bosinney. + +"How should I know?" replied James somewhat nonplussed; "two or +three hundred, I dare say!" + +"The exact sum!" + +James gave him a sharp look, but the architect appeared +unconscious, and he put the answer down to mishearing. + +On arriving at the garden entrance, he stopped to look at the +view. + +"That ought to come down," he said, pointing to the oak-tree. + +"You think so? You think that with the tree there you don't get +enough view for your money." + +Again James eyed him suspiciously--this young man had a peculiar +way of putting things: "Well!" he said, with a perplexed, +nervous, emphasis, "I don't see what you want with a tree." + +"It shall come down to-morrow," said Bosinney. + +James was alarmed. "Oh," he said, "don't go saying I said it was +to come down! I know nothing about it!" + +"No?" + +James went on in a fluster: "Why, what should I know about it? +It's nothing to do with me! You do it on your own +responsibility." + +"You'll allow me to mention your name?" + +James grew more and more alarmed: "I don't know what you want +mentioning my name for," he muttered; "you'd better leave the +tree alone. It's not your tree!" + +He took out a silk handkerchief and wiped his brow. They entered +the house. Like Swithin, James was impressed by the inner +court-yard. + +You must have spent a douce of a lot of money here," he said, +after staring at the columns and gallery for some time. "Now, +what did it cost to put up those columns?" + +"I can't tell you off-hand," thoughtfully answered Bosinney, "but +I know it was a deuce of a lot!" + +"I should think so," said James. "I should...." He caught the +architect's eye, and broke off. And now, whenever he came to +anything of which he desired to know the cost, he stifled that +curiosity. + +Bosinney appeared determined that he should see everything, and +had not James been of too 'noticing' a nature, he would +certainly have found himself going round the house a second time. +He seemed so anxious to be asked questions, too, that James felt +he must be on his guard. He began to suffer from his exertions, +for, though wiry enough for a man of his long build, he was +seventy-five years old. + +He grew discouraged; he seemed no nearer to anything, had not +obtained from his inspection any of the knowledge he had vaguely +hoped for. He had merely increased his dislike and mistrust of +this young man, who had tired him out with his politeness, and in +whose manner he now certainly detected mockery. + +The fellow was sharper than he had thought, and better-looking +than he had hoped. He had a--a 'don't care' appearance that +James, to whom risk was the most intolerable thing in life, did +not appreciate; a peculiar smile, too, coming when least +expected; and very queer eyes. He reminded James, as he said +afterwards, of a hungry cat. This was as near as he could get, +in conversation with Emily, to a description of the peculiar +exasperation, velvetiness, and mockery, of which Bosinney's +manner had been composed. + +At last, having seen all that was to be seen, he came out again +at the door where he had gone in; and now, feeling that he was +wasting time and strength and money, all for nothing, he took the +courage of a Forsyte in both hands, and, looking sharply at +Bosinney, said: + +"I dare say you see a good deal of my daughter-in-law; now, what +does she think of the house? But she hasn't seen it, I suppose?" + +This he said, knowing all about Irene's visit not, of course, +that there was anything in the visit, except that extraordinary +remark she had made about 'not caring to get home'--and the story +of how June had taken the news! + +He had determined, by this way of putting the question, to give +Bosinney a chance, as he said to himself. + +The latter was long in answering, but kept his eyes with +uncomfortable steadiness on James. + +"She has seen the house, but I can't tell you what she thinks of +it." + +Nervous and baffled, James was constitutionally prevented from +letting the matter drop. + +"Oh!" he said, "she has seen it? Soames brought her down, I +suppose?" + +Bosinney smilingly replied: "Oh, no!" + +"What, did she come down alone?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then--who brought her?" + +"I really don't know whether I ought to tell you who brought +her." + +To James, who knew that it was Swithin, this answer appeared +incomprehensible. + +"Why!" he stammered, "you know that...." but he stopped, suddenly +perceiving his danger. + +"Well," he said, "if you don't want to tell me I suppose you +won't! Nobody tells me anything." + +Somewhat to his surprise Bosinney asked him a question. + +"By the by," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to +be any more of you coming down? I should like to be on the +spot!" + +"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I +don't know of any more. Good-bye?" + +Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of +it with Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, +walked away along the terrace. + +Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney +following him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to +himself, 'like a great cat.' He paid no attention when the young +fellow raised his hat. + +Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still +more. Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, +and disheartened, he made his way back to the station. + +The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps +for his behaviour to the old man. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND + + +James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, +having occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter +connected with a drainage scheme which was being forced by the +sanitary authorities on his brother, he mentioned it there. + +It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal +could be made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though +what it was going to cost Soames before it was done with he +didn't know. + +Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come +round to borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and +Paregoric', which was having such a vogue--chimed in. + +"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were +having a nice little chat in the Groceries." + +It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really +made a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been +hurrying to the silk department of the Church and Commercial +Stores--that Institution than which, with its admirable system, +admitting only guaranteed persons on a basis of payment before +delivery, no emporium can be more highly recommended to Forsytes- +-to match a piece of prunella silk for her mother, who was +waiting in the carriage outside. + +Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted +by the back view of a very beautiful figure. It was so +charmingly proportioned, so balanced, and so well clothed, that +Euphemia's instinctive propriety was at once alarmed; such +figures, she knew, by intuition rather than experience, were +rarely connected with virtue--certainly never in her mind, for +her own back was somewhat difficult to fit. + +Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming +from the Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the +lady with the unknown back. + +It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was +undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing +herself rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for +she was impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her +hands, and at the busy time of the morning, she was quite +unintentionally an interested observer of their little interview. + +Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in +her cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though +attractive (she thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, +and George's name for him, 'The Buccaneer'--about which there was +something romantic--quite charming). He seemed to be pleading. +Indeed, they talked so earnestly--or, rather, he talked so +earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not say much--that they caused, +inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One nice old General, +going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of the way, +and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually +took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man! + +But it was Mrs. Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never +once looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she +looked after him. And, oh, that look! + +On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not +too much to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering +softness, for all the world as though the woman wanted to +drag him back, and unsay something she had been saying. + +Ah, well, she had had no time to go deeply into the matter just +then, with that prunella silk on her hands; but she was 'very +intriguee'--very! She had just nodded to Mrs. Soames, to show her +that she had seen; and, as she confided, in talking it over +afterwards, to her chum Francie (Roger's daughter), "Didn't she +look caught out just? ...." + +James, most averse at the first blush to accepting any news +confirmatory of his own poignant suspicions, took her up at once. + +"Oh" he said, "they'd be after wall-papers no doubt." + +Euphemia smiled. "In the Groceries?" she said softly; and, +taking 'Passion and Paregoric' from the table, added: "And so +you'll lend me this, dear Auntie? Good-bye!" and went away. + +James left almost immediately after; he was late as it was. + +When he reached the office of Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte, he +found Soames, sitting in his revolving, chair, drawing up a +defence. The latter greeted his father with a curt good-morning, +and, taking an envelope from his pocket, said: + +"It may interest you to look through this." + +James read as follows: + + +309D, SLOANE STREET, +May 15. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'The construction of your house being now completed, my duties as +architect have come to an end. If I am to go on with the +business of decoration, which at your request I undertook, I +should like you to clearly understand that I must have a free +hand. + +'You never come down without suggesting something that goes +counter to my scheme. I have here three letters from you, each +of which recommends an article I should never dream of putting +in. I had your father here yesterday afternoon, who made further +valuable suggestions. + +'Please make up your mind, therefore, whether you want me to +decorate for you, or to retire which on the whole I should prefer +to do. + +'But understand that, if I decorate, I decorate alone, without +interference of any sort. + +If I do the thing, I will do it thoroughly, but I must have a +free hand. + +'Yours truly, + +'PHILIP BOSINNEY.' + + +The exact and immediate cause of this letter cannot, of course, +be told, though it is not improbable that Bosinney may have been +moved by some sudden revolt against his position towards Soames-- +that eternal position of Art towards Property--which is so +admirably summed up, on the back of the most indispensable of +modern appliances, in a sentence comparable to the very finest in +Tacitus: + + +THOS. T. SORROW, Inventor. +BERT M. PADLAND, Proprietor. + + +"What are you going to say to him?" James asked. + +Soames did not even turn his head. "I haven't made up my mind," +he said, and went on with his defence. + +A client of his, having put some buildings on a piece of ground +that did not belong to him, had been suddenly and most +irritatingly warned to take them off again. After carefully going +into the facts, however, Soames had seen his way to advise that +his client had what was known as a title by possession, and that, +though undoubtedly the ground did not belong to him, he was +entitled to keep it, and had better do so; and he was now +following up this advice by taking steps to--as the sailors say-- +'make it so.' + +He had a distinct reputation for sound advice; people saying of +him: "Go to young Forsyte--a long-headed fellow!" and he prized +this reputation highly. + +His natural taciturnity was in his favour; nothing could be more +calculated to give people, especially people with property +(Soames had no other clients), the impression that he was a safe +man. And he was safe. Tradition, habit, education, inherited +aptitude, native caution, all joined to form a solid professional +honesty, superior to temptation--from the very fact that it was +built on an innate avoidance of risk. How could he fall, when +his soul abhorred circumstances which render a fall possible--a +man cannot fall off the floor! + +And those countless Forsytes, who, in the course of innumerable +transactions concerned with property of all sorts (from wives to +water rights), had occasion for the services of a safe man, +found it both reposeful and profitable to confide in Soames. +That slight superciliousness of his, combined with an air of +mousing amongst precedents, was in his favour too--a man would +not be supercilious unless he knew! + +He was really at the head of the business, for though James still +came nearly every day to, see for himself, he did little now but +sit in his chair, twist his legs, slightly confuse things already +decided, and presently go away again, and the other partner, +Bustard, was a poor thing, who did a great deal of work, but +whose opinion was never taken. + +So Soames went steadily on with his defence. Yet it would be +idle to say that his mind was at ease. He was suffering from a +sense of impending trouble, that had haunted him for some time +past. He tried to think it physical--a condition of his liver-- +but knew that it was not. + +He looked at his watch. In a quarter of an hour he was due at +the General Meeting of the New Colliery Company--one of Uncle +Jolyon's concerns; he should see Uncle Jolyon there, and say +something to him about Bosinney--he had not made up his mind +what, but something--in any case he should not answer this letter +until he had seen Uncle Jolyon. He got up and methodically put +away the draft of his defence. Going into a dark little +cupboard, he turned up the light, washed his hands with a piece +of brown Windsor soap, and dried them on a roller towel. Then he +brushed his hair, paying strict attention to the parting, turned +down the light, took his hat, and saying he would be back at +half-past two, stepped into the Poultry. + +It was not far to the Offices of the New Colliery Company in +Ironmonger Lane, where, and not at the Cannon Street Hotel, in +accordance with the more ambitious practice of other companies, +the General Meeting was always held. Old Jolyon had from the +first set his face against the Press. What business--he said-- +had the Public with his concerns! + +Soames arrived on the stroke of time, and took his seat alongside +the Board, who, in a row, each Director behind his own ink-pot, +faced their Shareholders. + +In the centre of this row old Jolyon, conspicuous in his black, +tightly-buttoned frock-coat and his white moustaches, was leaning +back with finger tips crossed on a copy of the Directors' report +and accounts. + +On his right hand, always a little larger than life, sat the +Secretary, 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings; an all-too-sad sadness +beaming in his fine eyes; his iron-grey beard, in mourning like +the rest of him, giving the feeling of an all-too-black tie +behind it. + +The occasion indeed was a melancholy one, only six weeks having +elapsed since that telegram had come from Scorrier, the mining +expert, on a private mission to the Mines, informing them that +Pippin, their Superintendent, had committed suicide in +endeavouring, after his extraordinary two years' silence, to +write a letter to his Board. That letter was on the table now; +it would be read to the Shareholders, who would of course be put +into possession of all the facts. + +Hemmings had often said to Soames, standing with his coat-tails +divided before the fireplace: + +"What our Shareholders don't know about our affairs isn't worth +knowing. You may take that from me, Mr. Soames." + +On one occasion, old Jolyon being present, Soames recollected a +little unpleasantness. His uncle had looked up sharply and said: +"Don't talk nonsense, Hemmings! You mean that what they do know +isn't worth knowing!" Old Jolyon detested humbug. + +Hemmings, angry-eyed, and wearing a smile like that of a trained +poodle, had replied in an outburst of artificial applause: "Come, +now, that's good, sir--that's very good. Your uncle will have +his joke!" + +The next time he had seen Soames he had taken the opportunity of +saying to him: "The chairman's getting very old!--I can't get him +to understand things; and he's so wilful--but what can you +expect, with a chin like his?" + +Soames had nodded. + +Everyone knew that Uncle Jolyon's chin was a caution. He was +looking worried to-day, in spite of his General Meeting look; he +(Soames) should certainly speak to him about Bosinney. + +Beyond old Jolyon on the left was little Mr. Booker, and he, too, +wore his General Meeting look, as though searching for some +particularly tender shareholder. And next him was the deaf +director, with a frown; and beyond the deaf director, again, was +old Mr. Bleedham, very bland, and having an air of conscious +virtue--as well he might, knowing that the brown-paper parcel he +always brought to the Board-room was concealed behind his hat +(one of that old-fashioned class, of flat-brimmed top-hats which +go with very large bow ties, clean-shaven lips, fresh cheeks, and +neat little, white whiskers). + +Soames always attended the General Meeting; it was considered +better that he should do so, in case 'anything should arise!' He +glanced round with his close, supercilious air at the walls of +the room, where hung plans of the mine and harbour, together with +a large photograph of a shaft leading to a working which had +proved quite remarkably unprofitable. This photograph--a witness +to the eternal irony underlying commercial enterprise till +retained its position on the--wall, an effigy of the directors' +pet, but dead, lamb. + +And now old Jolyon rose, to present the report and accounts. + +Veiling under a Jove-like serenity that perpetual antagonism +deep-seated in the bosom of a director towards his shareholders, +he faced them calmly. Soames faced them too. He knew most of +them by sight. There was old Scrubsole, a tar man, who always +came, as Hemmings would say, 'to make himself nasty,' a +cantankerous-looking old fellow with a red face, a jowl, and an +enormous low-crowned hat reposing on his knee. And the Rev. Mr. +Boms, who always proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman, in +which he invariably expressed the hope that the Board would not +forget to elevate their employees, using the word with a double +e, as being more vigorous and Anglo-Saxon (he had the strong +Imperialistic tendencies of his cloth). It was his salutary +custom to buttonhole a director afterwards, and ask him whether +he thought the coming year would be good or bad; and, according +to the trend of the answer, to buy or sell three shares within +the ensuing fortnight. + +And there was that military man, Major O'Bally, who could not +help speaking, if only to second the re-election of the auditor, +and who sometimes caused serious consternation by taking toasts-- +proposals rather--out of the hands of persons who had been +flattered with little slips of paper, entrusting the said +proposals to their care. + +These made up the lot, together with four or five strong, silent +shareholders, with whom Soames could sympathize--men of business, +who liked to keep an eye on their affairs for themselves, without +being fussy--good, solid men, who came to the City every day and +went back in the evening to good, solid wives. + +Good, solid wives! There was something in that thought which +roused the nameless uneasiness in Soames again. + +What should he say to his uncle? What answer should he make to +this letter? + +. . . . "If any shareholder has any question to put, I shall +be glad to answer it." A soft thump. Old Jolyon had let the +report and accounts fall, and stood twisting his tortoise-shell +glasses between thumb and forefinger. + +The ghost of a smile appeared on Soames' face. They had better +hurry up with their questions! He well knew his uncle's method +(the ideal one) of at once saying: "I propose, then, that the +report and accounts be adopted!" Never let them get their wind-- +shareholders were notoriously wasteful of time! + +A tall, white-bearded man, with a gaunt, dissatisfied face, +arose: + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman, in raising a question on +this figure of L5000 in the accounts. 'To the widow and +family"' (he looked sourly round), "'of our late superintendent,' +who so--er--ill-advisedly (I say--ill-advisedly) committed +suicide, at a time when his services were of the utmost value to +this Company. You have stated that the agreement which he has so +unfortunately cut short with his own hand was for a period of +five years, of which one only had expired--I--" + +Old Jolyon made a gesture of impatience. + +"I believe I am in order, Mr. Chairman--I ask whether this amount +paid, or proposed to be paid, by the Board to the er--deceased-- +is for services which might have been rendered to the Company-- +had he not committed suicide?" + +"It is in recognition of past services, which we all know--you as +well as any of us--to have been of vital value." + +"Then, sir, all I have to say is that the services being past, +the amount is too much." + +The shareholder sat down. + +Old Jolyon waited a second and said: "I now propose that the +report and--" + +The shareholder rose again: "May I ask if the Board realizes +that it is not their money which--I don't hesitate to say that if +it were their money...." + +A second shareholder, with a round, dogged face, whom Soames +recognised as the late superintendent's brother-in-law, got up +and said warmly: "In my opinion, sir, the sum is not enough!" + +The Rev. Mr. Boms now rose to his feet. "If I may venture to +express myself," he said, "I should say that the fact of the--er- +-deceased having committed suicide should weigh very heavily-- +very heavily with our worthy chairman. I have no doubt it has +weighed with him, for--I say this for myself and I think for +everyone present (hear, hear)--he enjoys our confidence in a high +degree. We all desire, I should hope, to be charitable. But I +feel sure" (he-looked severely at the late superintendent's +brother-in-law) "that he will in some way, by some written +expression, or better perhaps by reducing the amount, record our +grave disapproval that so promising and valuable a life should +have been thus impiously removed from a sphere where both its own +interests and--if I may say so--our interests so imperatively +demanded its continuance. We should not--nay, we may not-- +countenance so grave a dereliction of all duty, both human and +divine." + +The reverend gentleman resumed his seat. The late super- +intendent's brother-in-law again rose: "What I have said I +stick to," he said; "the amount is not enough!" + +The first shareholder struck in: "I challenge the legality of the +payment. In my opinion this payment is not legal. The Company's +solicitor is present; I believe I am in order in asking him the +question." + +All eyes were now turned upon Soames. Something had arisen! + +He stood up, close-lipped and cold; his nerves inwardly +fluttered, his attention tweaked away at last from contemplation +of that cloud looming on the horizon of his mind. + +"The point," he said in a low, thin voice, "is by no means clear. +As there is no possibility of future consideration being +received, it is doubtful whether the payment is strictly legal. +If it is desired, the opinion of the court could be taken." + +The superintendent's brother-in-law frowned, and said in a +meaning tone: "We have no doubt the opinion of the court could be +taken. May I ask the name of the gentleman who has given us that +striking piece of information? Mr. Soames Forsyte? Indeed!" He +looked from Soames to old Jolyon in a pointed manner. + +A flush coloured Soames' pale cheeks, but his superciliousness +did not waver. Old Jolyon fixed his eyes on the speaker. + +"If," he said, "the late superintendents brother-in-law has +nothing more to say, I propose that the report and accounts...." + +At this moment, however, there rose one of those five silent, +stolid shareholders, who had excited Soames' sympathy. He said: + +"I deprecate the proposal altogether. We are expected to give +charity to this man's wife and children, who, you tell us, were +dependent on him. They may have been; I do not care whether they +were or not. I object to the whole thing on principle. It is +high time a stand was made against this sentimental human- +itarianism. The country is eaten up with it. I object to +my money being paid to these people of whom I know nothing, who +have done nothing to earn it. I object in toto; it is not +business. I now move that the report and accounts be put back, +and amended by striking out the grant altogether." + +Old Jolyon had remained standing while the strong, silent man was +speaking. The speech awoke an echo in all hearts, voicing, as it +did, the worship of strong men, the movement against generosity, +which had at that time already commenced among the saner members +of the community. + +The words 'it is not business' had moved even the Board; +privately everyone felt that indeed it was not. But they knew +also the chairman's domineering temper and tenacity. He, too, at +heart must feel that it was not business; but he was committed to +his own proposition. Would he go back upon it? It was thought +to be unlikely. + +All waited with interest. Old Jolyon held up his hand; +dark-rimmed glasses depending between his finger and thumb +quivered slightly with a suggestion of menace. + +He addressed the strong, silent shareholder. + +"Knowing, as you do, the efforts of our late superintendent upon +the occasion of the explosion at the mines, do you seriously wish +me to put that amendment, sir?" + +"I do." + +Old Jolyon put the amendment. + +"Does anyone second this?" he asked, looking calmly round. + +And it was then that Soames, looking at his uncle, felt the power +of will that was in that old man. No one stirred. Looking +straight into the eyes of the strong, silent shareholder, old +Jolyon said: + +"I now move, 'That the report and accounts for the year 1886 be +received and adopted.' You second that? Those in favour signify +the same in the usual way. Contrary--no. Carried. The next +business, gentlemen...." + +Soames smiled. Certainly Uncle Jolyon had a way with him! + +But now his attention relapsed upon Bosinney. + +Odd how that fellow haunted his thoughts, even in business hours. + +Irene's visit to the house--but there was nothing in that, except +that she might have told him; but then, again, she never did tell +him anything. She was more silent, more touchy, every day. He +wished to God the house were finished, and they were in it, away +from London. Town did not suit her; her nerves were not strong +enough. That nonsense of the separate room had cropped up again! + +The meeting was breaking up now. Underneath the photograph of +the lost shaft Hemmings was buttonholed by the Rev. Mr. Boms. +Little Mr. Booker, his bristling eyebrows wreathed in angry +smiles, was having a parting turn-up with old Scrubsole. The two +hated each other like poison. There was some matter of a +tar-contract between them, little Mr. Booker having secured it +from the Board for a nephew of his, over old Scrubsole's head. +Soames had heard that from Hemmings, who liked a gossip, more +especially about his directors, except, indeed, old Jolyon, of +whom he was afraid. + +Soames awaited his opportunity. The last shareholder was +vanishing through the door, when he approached his uncle, who was +putting on his hat. + +"Can I speak to you for a minute, Uncle Jolyon?" + +It is uncertain what Soames expected to get out of this +interview. + +Apart from that somewhat mysterious awe in which Forsytes in +general held old Jolyon, due to his philosophic twist, or +perhaps--as Hemmings would doubtless have said--to his chin, +there was, and always had been, a subtle antagonism between the +younger man and the old. It had lurked under their dry manner of +greeting, under their non-committal allusions to each other, and +arose perhaps from old Jolyon's perception of the quiet tenacity +('obstinacy,' he rather naturally called it) of the young man, of +a secret doubt whether he could get his own way with him. + +Both these Forsytes, wide asunder as the poles in many respects, +possessed in their different ways--to a greater degree than the +rest of the family--that essential quality of tenacious and +prudent insight into 'affairs,' which is the highwater mark of +their great class. Either of them, with a little luck and +opportunity, was equal to a lofty career; either of them would +have made a good financier, a great contractor, a statesman, +though old Jolyon, in certain of his moods when under the +influence of a cigar or of Nature--would have been capable of, +not perhaps despising, but certainly of questioning, his own high +position, while Soames, who never smoked cigars, would not. + +Then, too, in old Jolyon's mind there was always the secret ache, +that the son of James--of James, whom he had always thought such +a poor thing, should be pursuing the paths of success, while his +own son...! + +And last, not least--for he was no more outside the radiation of +family gossip than any other Forsyte--he had now heard the +sinister, indefinite, but none the less disturbing rumour about +Bosinney, and his pride was wounded to the quick. + +Characteristically, his irritation turned not against Irene but +against Soames. The idea that his nephew's wife (why couldn't +the fellow take better care of her--Oh! quaint injustice! as +though Soames could possibly take more care!)--should be drawing +to herself June's lover, was intolerably humiliating. And seeing +the danger, he did not, like James, hide it away in sheer +nervousness, but owned with the dispassion of his broader +outlook, that it was not unlikely; there was something very +attractive about Irene! + +He had a presentiment on the subject of Soames' communication as +they left the Board Room together, and went out into the noise +and hurry of Cheapside. They walked together a good minute +without speaking, Soames with his mousing, mincing step, and old +Jolyon upright and using his umbrella languidly as a +walking-stick. + +They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon's +way to a second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street. + +Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: "I've had this +letter from Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I'd let +you know. I've spent a lot more than I intended on this house, +and I want the position to be clear." + +Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: "What he +says is clear enough," he said. + +"He talks about 'a free hand,'" replied Soames. + +Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and +antagonism towards this young fellow, whose affairs were +beginning to intrude upon his own, burst from him. + +"Well, if you don't trust him, why do you employ him?" + +Soames stole a sideway look: "It's much too late to go into +that," he said, "I only want it to be quite understood that if I +give him a free hand, he doesn't let me in. I thought if you +were to speak to him, it would carry more weight!" + +"No," said old Jolyon abruptly; "I'll have nothing to do with +it!" + +The words of both uncle and nephew gave the impression of +unspoken meanings, far more important, behind. And the look they +interchanged was like a revelation of this consciousness. + +"Well," said Soames; "I thought, for June's sake, I'd tell you, +that's all; I thought you'd better know I shan't stand any +nonsense!" + +"What is that to me?" old Jolyon took him up. + +"Oh! I don't know," said Soames, and flurried by that sharp look +he was unable to say more. "Don't say I didn't tell you," he +added sulkily, recovering his composure. + +"Tell me!" said old Jolyon; "I don't know what you mean. You +come worrying me about a thing like this. I don't want to hear +about your affairs; you must manage them yourself!" + +"Very well," said Soames immovably, "I will!" + +"Good-morning, then," said old Jolyon, and they parted. + +Soames retraced his steps, and going into a celebrated eating- +house, asked for a plate of smoked salmon and a glass of +Chablis; he seldom ate much in the middle of the day, and +generally ate standing, finding the position beneficial to his +liver, which was very sound, but to which he desired to put down +all his troubles. + +When he had finished he went slowly back to his office, with bent +head, taking no notice of the swarming thousands on the +pavements, who in their turn took no notice of him. + +The evening post carried the following reply to Bosinney: + + +'FORSYTE, BUSTARD AND FORSYTE, +'Commissioners for Oaths, +'92001, BRANCH LANE, POULTRY, E.C., + +'May 17, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I have, received your letter, the terms of which not a little +surprise me. I was under the impression that you had, and have +had all along, a "free hand"; for I do not recollect that any +suggestions I have been so unfortunate as to make have met with +your approval. In giving you, in accordance with your request, +this "free hand," I wish you to clearly understand that the total +cost of the house as handed over to me completely decorated, +inclusive of your fee (as arranged between us), must not exceed +twelve thousand pounds--L12,000. This gives you an ample margin, +and, as you know, is far more than I originally contemplated. + +'I am, +'Yours truly, + + 'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +On the following day he received a note from Bosinney: + + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY, +'Architect, +'309D, SLOANE STREET, S.W., +'May 18. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'If you think that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can +bind myself to the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken. I +can see that you are tired of the arrangement, and of me, and I +had better, therefore, resign. + +'Yours faithfully, + +'PHILIP BAYNES BOSINNEY.' + + +Soames pondered long and painfully over his answer, and late at +night in the dining-room, when Irene had gone to bed, he composed +the following: + + +'62, MONTPELLIER SQUARE, S.W., +'May 19, 1887. + +'DEAR BOSINNEY, + +'I think that in both our interests it would be extremely +undesirable that matters should be so left at this stage. I did +not mean to say that if you should exceed the sum named in my +letter to you by ten or twenty or even fifty pounds, there would +be any difficulty between us. This being so, I should like you +to reconsider your answer. You have a "free hand" in the terms +of this correspondence, and I hope you will see your way to +completing the decorations, in the matter of which I know it is +difficult to be absolutely exact. + +'Yours truly, + +'SOAMES FORSYTE.' + + +Bosinney's answer, which came in the course of the next day, was: + + +'May 20. + +'DEAR FORSYTE, + +'Very well. + +'PH. BOSINNEY.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OLD JOLYON AT THE ZOO + + +Old Jolyon disposed of his second Meeting--an ordinary Board-- +summarily. He was so dictatorial that his fellow directors were +left in cabal over the increasing domineeringness of old Forsyte, +which they were far from intending to stand much longer, they +said. + +He went out by Undergound to Portland Road Station, whence he +took a cab and drove to the Zoo. + +He had an assignation there, one of those assignations that had +lately been growing more frequent, to which his increasing +uneasiness about June and the 'change in her,' as he expressed +it, was driving him. + +She buried herself away, and was growing thin; if he spoke to her +he got no answer, or had his head snapped off, or she looked as +if she would burst into tears. She was as changed as she could +be, all through this Bosinney. As for telling him about +anything, not a bit of it! + +And he would sit for long spells brooding, his paper unread +before him, a cigar extinct between his lips. She had been such +a companion to him ever since she was three years old! And he +loved her so! + +Forces regardless of family or class or custom were beating down +his guard; impending events over which he had no control threw +their shadows on his head. The irritation of one accustomed to +have his way was roused against he knew not what. + +Chafing at the slowness of his cab, he reached the Zoo door; but, +with his sunny instinct for seizing the good of each moment, he +forgot his vexation as he walked towards the tryst. + +From the stone terrace above the bear-pit his son and his two +grandchildren came hastening down when they saw old Jolyon +coming, and led him away towards the lion-house. They supported +him on either side, holding one to each of his hands,--whilst +Jolly, perverse like his father, carried his grandfather's +umbrella in such a way as to catch people's legs with the crutch +of the handle. + +Young Jolyon followed. + +It was as good as a play to see his father with the children, but +such a play as brings smiles with tears behind. An old man and +two small children walking together can be seen at any hour of +the day; but the sight of old Jolyon, with Jolly and Holly seemed +to young Jolyon a special peep-show of the things that lie at the +bottom of our hearts. The complete surrender of that erect old +figure to those little figures on either hand was too poignantly +tender, and, being a man of an habitual reflex action, young +Jolyon swore softly under his breath. The show affected him in a +way unbecoming to a Forsyte, who is nothing if not undemonstrative. + +Thus they reached the lion-house. + +There had been a morning fete at the Botanical Gardens, and a +large number of Forsy...'--that is, of well-dressed people who +kept carriages had brought them on to the Zoo, so as to have +more, if possible, for their money, before going back to Rutland +Gate or Bryanston Square. + +"Let's go on to the Zoo," they had said to each other; "it'll be +great fun!" It was a shilling day; and there would not be all +those horrid common people. + +In front of the long line of cages they were collected in rows, +watching the tawny, ravenous beasts behind the bars await their +only pleasure of the four-and-twenty hours. The hungrier the +beast, the greater the fascination. But whether because the +spectators envied his appetite, or, more humanely, because it +was so soon to be satisfied, young Jolyon could not tell. +Remarks kept falling on his ears: "That's a nasty-looking brute, +that tiger!" "Oh, what a love! Look at his little mouth!" +"Yes, he's rather nice! Don't go too near, mother." + +And frequently, with little pats, one or another would clap their +hands to their pockets behind and look round, as though expecting +young Jolyon or some disinterested-looking person to relieve them +of the contents. + +A well-fed man in a white waistcoat said slowly through his +teeth: "It's all greed; they can't be hungry. Why, they take no +exercise." At these words a tiger snatched a piece of bleeding +liver, and the fat man laughed. His wife, in a Paris model frock +and gold nose-nippers, reproved him: "How can you laugh, Harry? +Such a horrid sight!" + +Young Jolyon frowned. + +The circumstances of his life, though he had ceased to take a too +personal view of them, had left him subject to an intermittent +contempt; and the class to which he had belonged--the carriage +class--especially excited his sarcasm. + +To shut up a lion or tiger in confinement was surely a horrible +barbarity. But no cultivated person would admit this. + +The idea of its being barbarous to confine wild animals had +probably never even occurred to his father for instance; he +belonged to the old school, who considered it at once humanizing +and educational to confine baboons and panthers, holding the +view, no doubt, that in course of time they might induce these +creatures not so unreasonably to die of misery and heart- +sickness against the bars of their cages, and put the society +to the expense of getting others! In his eyes, as in the eyes +of all Forsytes, the pleasure of seeing these beautiful +creatures in a state of captivity far outweighed the +inconvenience of imprisonment to beasts whom God had so +improvidently placed in a state of freedom! It was for the +animals good, removing them at once from the countless dangers +of open air and exercise, and enabling them to exercise their +functions in the guaranteed seclusion of a private compartment! +Indeed, it was doubtful what wild animals were made for but to be +shut up in cages! + +But as young Jolyon had in his constitution the elements of +impartiality, he reflected that to stigmatize as barbarity that +which was merely lack of imagination must be wrong; for none who +held these views had been placed in a similar position to the +animals they caged, and could not, therefore, be expected to +enter into their sensations. It was not until they were leaving +the gardens--Jolly and Holly in a state of blissful delirium-- +that old Jolyon found an opportunity of speaking to his son on +the matter next his heart. "I don't know what to make of it," he +said; "if she's to go on as she's going on now, I can't tell +what's to come. I wanted her to see the doctor, but she won't. +She's not a bit like me. She's your mother all over. Obstinate +as a mule! If she doesn't want to do a thing, she won't, and +there's an end of it!" + +Young Jolyon smiled; his eyes had wandered to his father's chin. +'A pair of you,' he thought, but he said nothing. + +"And then," went on old Jolyon, "there's this Bosinney. I +should like to punch the fellow's head, but I can't, I suppose, +though--I don't see why you shouldn't," he added doubtfully. + +"What has he done? Far better that it should come to an end, if +they don't hit it off!" + +Old Jolyon looked at his son. Now they had actually come to +discuss a subject connected with the relations between the sexes +he felt distrustful. Jo would be sure to hold some loose view or +other. + +"Well, I don't know what you think," he said; "I dare say your +sympathy's with him--shouldn't be surprised; but I think he's +behaving precious badly, and if he comes my way I shall tell him +so." He dropped the subject. + +It was impossible to discuss with his son the true nature and +meaning of Bosinney's defection. Had not his son done the very +same thing (worse, if possible) fifteen years ago? There seemed +no end to the consequences of that piece of folly. + +Young Jolyon also was silent; he had quickly penetrated his +father's thought, for, dethroned from the high seat of an obvious +and uncomplicated view of things, he had become both perceptive +and subtle. + +The attitude he had adopted towards sexual matters fifteen years +before, however, was too different from his father's. There was +no bridging the gulf. + +He said coolly: "I suppose he's fallen in love with some other +woman?" + +Old Jolyon gave him a dubious look: "I can't tell," he said; +"they say so!" + +"Then, it's probably true," remarked young Jolyon unexpectedly; +"and I suppose they've told you who she is?" + +"Yes," said old Jolyon, "Soames's wife!" + +Young Jolyon did not whistle: The circumstances of his own life +had rendered him incapable of whistling on such a subject, but he +looked at his father, while the ghost of a smile hovered over his +face. + +If old Jolyon saw, he took no notice. + +"She and June were bosom friends!" he muttered. + +"Poor little June!" said young Jolyon softly. He thought of his +daughter still as a babe of three. + +Old Jolyon came to a sudden halt. + +"I don't believe a word of it," he said, "it's some old woman's +tale. Get me a cab, Jo, I'm tired to death!" + +They stood at a corner to see if an empty cab would come along, +while carriage after carriage drove past, bearing Forsytes of all +descriptions from the Zoo. The harness, the liveries, the gloss +on the horses' coats, shone and glittered in the May sunlight, +and each equipage, landau, sociable, barouche, Victoria, or +brougham, seemed to roll out proudly from its wheels: + + +'I and my horses and my men you know,' +Indeed the whole turn-out have cost a pot. +But we were worth it every penny. Look +At Master and at Missis now, the dawgs! +Ease with security--ah! that's the ticket! + + +And such, as everyone knows, is fit accompaniment for a +perambulating Forsyte. + +Amongst these carriages was a barouche coming at a greater pace +than the others, drawn by a pair of bright bay horses. It swung +on its high springs, and the four people who filled it seemed +rocked as in a cradle. + +This chariot attracted young Jolyon's attention; and suddenly, on +the back seat, he recognised his Uncle James, unmistakable in +spite of the increased whiteness of his whiskers; opposite, their +backs defended by sunshades, Rachel Forsyte and her elder but +married sister, Winifred Dartie, in irreproachable toilettes, had +posed their heads haughtily, like two of the birds they had been +seeing at the Zoo; while by James' side reclined Dartie, in a +brand-new frock-coat buttoned tight and square, with a large +expanse of carefully shot linen protruding below each wristband. + +An extra, if subdued, sparkle, an added touch of the best gloss +or varnish characterized this vehicle, and seemed to distinguish +it from all the others, as though by some happy extravagance-- +like that which marks out the real 'work of art' from the +ordinary 'picture'--it were designated as the typical car, the +very throne of Forsytedom. + +Old Jolyon did not see them pass; he was petting poor Holly who +was tired, but those in the carriage had taken in the little +group; the ladies' heads tilted suddenly, there was a spasmodic +screening movement of parasols; James' face protruded naively, +like the head of a long bird, his mouth slowly opening. The +shield-like rounds of the parasols grew smaller and smaller, and +vanished. + +Young Jolyon saw that he had been recognised, even by Winifred, +who could not have been more than fifteen when he had forfeited +the right to be considered a Forsyte. + +There was not much change in them! He remembered the exact look +of their turn-out all that time ago: Horses, men, carriage--all +different now, no doubt--but of the precise stamp of fifteen +years before; the same neat display, the same nicely calculated +arrogance ease with security! The swing exact, the pose of the +sunshades exact, exact the spirit of the whole thing. + +And in the sunlight, defended by the haughty shields of parasols, +carriage after carriage went by. + +"Uncle James has just passed, with his female folk," said young +Jolyon. + +His father looked black. "Did your uncle see us? Yes? Hmph! +What's he want, coming down into these parts?" + +An empty cab drove up at this moment, and old Jolyon stopped it. + +"I shall see you again before long, my boy!" he said. "Don't you +go paying any attention to what I've been saying about young +Bosinney--I don't believe a word of it!" + +Kissing the children, who tried to detain him, he stepped in and +was borne away. + +Young Jolyon, who had taken Holly up in his arms, stood +motionless at the corner, looking after the cab. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AFTERNOON AT TIMOTHY'S + + +If old Jolyon, as he got into his cab, had said: 'I won't believe +a word of it!' he would more truthfully have expressed his +sentiments. + +The notion that James and his womankind had seen him in the +company of his son had awakened in him not only the impatience he +always felt when crossed, but that secret hostility natural +between brothers, the roots of which--little nursery rivalries-- +sometimes toughen and deepen as life goes on, and, all hidden, +support a plant capable of producing in season the bitterest +fruits. + +Hitherto there had been between these six brothers no more +unfriendly feeling than that caused by the secret and natural +doubt that the others might be richer than themselves; a feeling +increased to the pitch of curiosity by the approach of death-- +that end of all handicaps--and the great 'closeness' of their man +of business, who, with some sagacity, would profess to Nicholas +ignorance of James' income, to James ignorance of old Jolyon's, +to Jolyon ignorance of Roger's, to Roger ignorance of Swithin's, +while to Swithin he would say most irritatingly that Nicholas +must be a rich man. Timothy alone was exempt, being in +gilt-edged securities. + +But now, between two of them at least, had arisen a very +different sense of injury. From the moment when James had the +impertinence to pry into his affairs--as he put it--old Jolyon no +longer chose to credit this story about Bosinney. His grand- +daughter slighted through a member of 'that fellow's' family! +He made up his mind that Bosinney was maligned. There must be +some other reason for his defection. + +June had flown out at him, or something; she was as touchy as she +could be! + +He would, however, let Timothy have a bit of his mind, and see if +he would go on dropping hints! And he would not let the grass +grow under his feet either, he would go there at once, and take +very good care that he didn't have to go again on the same +errand. + +He saw James' carriage blocking the pavement in front of 'The +Bower.' So they had got there before him--cackling about having +seen him, he dared say! And further on, Swithin's greys were +turning their noses towards the noses of James' bays, as though +in conclave over the family, while their coachmen were in +conclave above. + +Old Jolyon, depositing his hat on the chair in the narrow hall, +where that hat of Bosinney's had so long ago been mistaken for a +cat, passed his thin hand grimly over his face with its great +drooping white moustaches, as though to remove all traces of +expression, and made his way upstairs. + +He found the front drawing-room full. It was full enough at the +best of times--without visitors--without any one in it--for +Timothy and his sisters, following the tradition of their +generation, considered that a room was not quite 'nice' unless it +was 'properly' furnished. It held, therefore, eleven chairs, a +sofa, three tables, two cabinets, innumerable knicknacks, and +part of a large grand piano. And now, occupied by Mrs. Small, +Aunt Hester, by Swithin, James, Rachel, Winifred, Euphemia, who +had come in again to return 'Passion and Paregoric' which she had +read at lunch, and her chum Frances, Roger's daughter (the +musical Forsyte, the one who composed songs), there was only one +chair left unoccupied, except, of course, the two that nobody +ever sat on--and the only standing room was occupied by the cat, +on whom old Jolyon promptly stepped. + +In these days it was by no means unusual for Timothy to have so +many visitors. The family had always, one and all, had a real +respect for Aunt Ann, and now that she was gone, they were coming +far more frequently to The Bower, and staying longer. + +Swithin had been the first to arrive, and seated torpid in a red +satin chair with a gilt back, he gave every appearance of lasting +the others out. And symbolizing Bosinney's name 'the big one,' +with his great stature and bulk, his thick white hair, his puffy +immovable shaven face, he looked more primeval than ever in the +highly upholstered room. + +His conversation, as usual of late, had turned at once upon +Irene, and he had lost no time in giving Aunts Juley and Hester +his opinion with regard to this rumour he heard was going about. +No--as he said--she might want a bit of flirtation--a pretty +woman must have her fling; but more than that he did not believe. +Nothing open; she had too much good sense, too much proper +appreciation of what was due to her position, and to the family! +No sc..., he was going to say 'scandal' but the very idea was so +preposterous that he waved his hand as though to say--'but let +that pass!' + +Granted that Swithin took a bachelor's view of the situation-- +still what indeed was not due to that family in which so many had +done so well for themselves, had attained a certain position? If +he had heard in dark, pessimistic moments the words 'yeomen' and +'very small beer' used in connection with his origin, did he +believe them? + +No! he cherished, hugging it pathetically to his bosom the +secret theory that there was something distinguished somewhere in +his ancestry. + +"Must be," he once said to young Jolyon, before the latter went +to the bad. "Look at us, we've got on! There must be good blood +in us somewhere." + +He had been fond of young Jolyon: the boy had been in a good set +at College, had known that old ruffian Sir Charles Fiste's +sons--a pretty rascal one of them had turned out, too; and there +was style about him--it was a thousand pities he had run off with +that half-foreign governess! If he must go off like that why +couldn't he have chosen someone who would have done them credit! +And what was he now?--an underwriter at Lloyd's; they said he +even painted pictures--pictures! Damme! he might have ended as +Sir Jolyon Forsyte, Bart., with a seat in Parliament, and a place +in the country! + +It was Swithin who, following the impulse which sooner or later +urges thereto some member of every great family, went to the +Heralds' Office, where they assured him that he was undoubtedly +of the same family as the well-known Forsites with an 'i,' whose +arms were 'three dexter buckles on a sable ground gules,' hoping +no doubt to get him to take them up. + +Swithin, however, did not do this, but having ascertained that +the crest was a 'pheasant proper,' and the motto 'For Forsite,' +he had the pheasant proper placed upon his carriage and the +buttons of his coachman, and both crest and motto on his +writing-paper. The arms he hugged to himself, partly because, +not having paid for them, he thought it would look ostentatious +to put them on his carriage, and he hated ostentation, and partly +because he, like any practical man all over the country, had a +secret dislike and contempt for things he could not understand he +found it hard, as anyone might, to swallow 'three dexter buckles +on a sable ground gules.' + +He never forgot, however, their having told him that if he paid +for them he would be entitled to use them, and it strengthened +his conviction that he was a gentleman. Imperceptibly the rest +of the family absorbed the 'pheasant proper,' and some, more +serious than others, adopted the motto; old Jolyon, however, +refused to use the latter, saying that it was humbug meaning +nothing, so far as he could see. + +Among the older generation it was perhaps known at bottom from +what great historical event they derived their crest; and if +pressed on the subject, sooner than tell a lie--they did not like +telling lies, having an impression that only Frenchmen and +Russians told them--they would confess hurriedly that Swithin had +got hold of it somehow. + +Among the younger generation the matter was wrapped in a +discretion proper. They did not want to hurt the feelings of +their elders, nor to feel ridiculous themselves; they simply used +the crest.... + +"No," said Swithin, "he had had an opportunity of seeing for +himself, and what he should say was, that there was nothing in +her manner to that young Buccaneer or Bosinney or whatever his +name was, different from her manner to himself; in fact, he +should rather say...." But here the entrance of Frances +and Euphemia put an unfortunate stop to the conversation, for +this was not a subject which could be discussed before young +people. + +And though Swithin was somewhat upset at being stopped like this +on the point of saying something important, he soon recovered his +affability. He was rather fond of Frances--Francie, as she was +called in the family. She was so smart, and they told him she +made a pretty little pot of pin-money by her songs; he called it +very clever of her. + +He rather prided himself indeed on a liberal attitude towards +women, not seeing any reason why they shouldn't paint pictures, +or write tunes, or books even, for the matter of that, especially +if they could turn a useful penny by it; not at all--kept them +out of mischief. It was not as if they were men! + +'Little Francie,' as she was usually called with good-natured +contempt, was an important personage, if only as a standing +illustration of the attitude of Forsytes towards the Arts. She +was not really 'little,' but rather tall, with dark hair for a +Forsyte, which, together with a grey eye, gave her what was +called 'a Celtic appearance.' She wrote songs with titles like +'Breathing Sighs,' or 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die,' with a +refrain like an anthem: + + +'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die; +Kiss me-kiss me, Mother, ah! +Kiss, ah! kiss me e-ere I- +Kiss me, Mother, ere I d-d-die!' + + +She wrote the words to them herself, and other poems. In lighter +moments she wrote waltzes, one of which, the 'Kensington Coil,' +was almost national to Kensington, having a sweet dip in it. + +It was very original. Then there were her 'Songs for Little +People,' at once educational and witty, especially 'Gran'ma's +Porgie,' and that ditty, almost prophetically imbued with the +coming Imperial spirit, entitled 'Black Him In His Little Eye.' + +Any publisher would take these, and reviews like 'High Living,' +and the 'Ladies' Genteel Guide' went into raptures over: 'Another +of Miss Francie Forsyte's spirited ditties, sparkling and +pathetic. We ourselves were moved to tears and laughter. Miss +Forsyte should go far.' + +With the true instinct of her breed, Francie had made a point of +knowing the right people--people who would write about her, and +talk about her, and people in Society, too--keeping a mental +register of just where to exert her fascinations, and an eye on +that steady scale of rising prices, which in her mind's eye +represented the future. In this way she caused herself to be +universally respected. + +Once, at a time when her emotions were whipped by an attachment-- +for the tenor of Roger's life, with its whole-hearted collection +of house property, had induced in his only daughter a tendency +towards passion--she turned to great and sincere work, choosing +the sonata form, for the violin. This was the only one of her +productions that troubled the Forsytes. They felt at once that +it would not sell. + +Roger, who liked having a clever daughter well enough, and often +alluded to the amount of pocket-money she made for herself, was +upset by this violin sonata. + +"Rubbish like that!" he called it. Francie had borrowed young +Flageoletti from Euphemia, to play it in the drawing-room at +Prince's Gardens. + +As a matter of fact Roger was right. It was rubbish, but-- +annoying! the sort of rubbish that wouldn't sell. As every +Forsyte knows, rubbish that sells is not rubbish at all--far from +it. + +And yet, in spite of the sound common sense which fixed the worth +of art at what it would fetch, some of the Forsytes--Aunt +Hester, for instance, who had always been musical--could not help +regretting that Francie's music was not 'classical'; the same +with her poems. But then, as Aunt Hester said, they didn't see +any poetry nowadays, all the poems were 'little light things.' + +There was nobody who could write a poem like 'Paradise Lost,' or +'Childe Harold'; either of which made you feel that you really +had read something. Still, it was nice for Francie to have +something to occupy her; while other girls were spending money +shopping she was making it! + +And both Aunt Hester and Aunt Juley were always ready to listen +to the latest story of how Francie had got her price increased. + +They listened now, together with Swithin, who sat pretending not +to, for these young people talked so fast and mumbled so, he +never could catch what they said. + +"And I can't think," said Mrs. Septimus, "how you do it. I +should never have the audacity!" + +Francie smiled lightly. "I'd much rather deal with a man than a +woman. Women are so sharp!" + +"My dear," cried Mrs. Small, "I'm sure we're not." + +Euphemia went off into her silent laugh, and, ending with the +squeak, said, as though being strangled: "Oh, you'll kill me some +day, auntie." + +Swithin saw no necessity to laugh; he detested people laughing +when he himself perceived no joke. Indeed, he detested Euphemia +altogether, to whom he always alluded as 'Nick's daughter, what's +she called--the pale one?' He had just missed being her god- +father--indeed, would have been, had he not taken a firm stand +against her outlandish name. He hated becoming a godfather. +Swithin then said to Francie with dignity: "It's a fine day-- +er--for the time of year." But Euphemia, who knew perfectly well +that he had refused to be her godfather, turned to Aunt Hester, +and began telling her how she had seen Irene--Mrs. Soames--at the +Church and Commercial Stores. + +"And Soames was with her?" said Aunt Hester, to whom Mrs. Small +had as yet had no opportunity of relating the incident. + +"Soames with her? Of course not!" + +"But was she all alone in London?" + +"Oh, no; there was Mr. Bosinney with her. She was perfectly +dressed." + +But Swithin, hearing the name Irene, looked severely at Euphemia, +who, it is true, never did look well in a dress, whatever she may +have done on other occasions, and said: + +"Dressed like a lady, I've no doubt. It's a pleasure to see +her." + +At this moment James and his daughters were announced. Dartie, +feeling badly in want of a drink, had pleaded an appointment with +his dentist, and, being put down at the Marble Arch, had got into +a hansom, and was already seated in the window of his club in +Piccadilly. + +His wife, he told his cronies, had wanted to take him to pay some +calls. It was not in his line--not exactly. Haw! + +Hailing the waiter, he sent him out to the hall to see what had +won the 4.30 race. He was dog-tired, he said, and that was a +fact; had been drivin' about with his wife to 'shows' all the +afternoon. Had put his foot down at last. A fellow must live +his own life. + +At this moment, glancing out of the bay window--for he loved this +seat whence he could see everybody pass--his eye unfortunately, +or perhaps fortunately, chanced to light on the figure of Soames, +who was mousing across the road from the Green Park-side, with +the evident intention of coming in, for he, too, belonged to 'The +Iseeum.' + +Dartie sprang to his feet; grasping his glass, he muttered +something about 'that 4.30 race,' and swiftly withdrew to the +card-room, where Soames never came. Here, in complete isolation +and a dim light, he lived his own life till half past seven, by +which hour he knew Soames must certainly have left the club. + +It would not do, as he kept repeating to himself whenever he felt +the impulse to join the gossips in the bay-window getting too +strong for him--it absolutely would not do, with finances as low +as his, and the 'old man' (James) rusty ever since that business +over the oil shares, which was no fault of his, to risk a row +with Winifred. + +If Soames were to see him in the club it would be sure to come +round to her that he wasn't at the dentist's at all. He never +knew a family where things 'came round' so. Uneasily, amongst +the green baize card-tables, a frown on his olive coloured face, +his check trousers crossed, and patent-leather boots shining +through the gloom, he sat biting his forefinger, and wondering +where the deuce he was to get the money if Erotic failed to win +the Lancashire Cup. + +His thoughts turned gloomily to the Forsytes. What a set they +were! There was no getting anything out of them--at least, it +was a matter of extreme difficulty. They were so d---d +particular about money matters; not a sportsman amongst the lot, +unless it were George. That fellow Soames, for instance, would +have a ft if you tried to borrow a tenner from him, or, if he +didn't have a fit, he looked at you with his cursed supercilious +smile, as if you were a lost soul because you were in want of +money. + +And that wife of his (Dartie's mouth watered involuntarily), he +had tried to be on good terms with her, as one naturally would +with any pretty sister-in-law, but he would be cursed if the (he +mentally used a coarse word)--would have anything to say to him-- +she looked at him, indeed, as if he were dirt--and yet she could +go far enough, he wouldn't mind betting. He knew women; they +weren't made with soft eyes and figures like that for nothing, as +that fellow Soames would jolly soon find out, if there were +anything in what he had heard about this Buccaneer Johnny. + +Rising from his chair, Dartie took a turn across the room, ending +in front of the looking-glass over the marble chimney-piece; and +there he stood for a long time contemplating in the glass the +reflection of his face. It had that look, peculiar to some men, +of having been steeped in linseed oil, with its waxed dark +moustaches and the little distinguished commencements of side +whiskers; and concernedly he felt the promise of a pimple on the +side of his slightly curved and fattish nose. + +In the meantime old Jolyon had found the remaining chair in +Timothy's commodious drawing-room. His advent had obviously put +a stop to the conversation, decided awkwardness having set in. +Aunt Juley, with her well-known kindheartedness, hastened to set +people at their ease again. + +"Yes, Jolyon," she said, "we were just saying that you haven't +been here for a long time; but we mustn't be surprised. You're +busy, of course? James was just saying what a busy time of +year...." + +"Was he?" said old Jolyon, looking hard at James. "It wouldn't +be half so busy if everybody minded their own business." + +James, brooding in a small chair from which his knees ran uphill, +shifted his feet uneasily, and put one of them down on the cat, +which had unwisely taken refuge from old Jolyon beside him. + +"Here, you've got a cat here," he said in an injured voice, +withdrawing his foot nervously as he felt it squeezing into the +soft, furry body. + +"Several," said old Jolyon, looking at one face and another; "I +trod on one just now." + +A silence followed. + +Then Mrs. Small, twisting her fingers and gazing round with +'pathetic calm', asked: "And how is dear June?" + +A twinkle of humour shot through the sternness of old Jolyon's +eyes. Extraordinary old woman, Juley! No one quite like her for +saying the wrong thing! + +"Bad!" he said; "London don't agree with her--too many people +about, too much clatter and chatter by half." He laid emphasis on +the words, and again looked James in the face. + +Nobody spoke. + +A feeling of its being too dangerous to take a step in any +direction, or hazard any remark, had fallen on them all. +Something of the sense of the impending, that comes over the +spectator of a Greek tragedy, had entered that upholstered room, +filled with those white-haired, frock-coated old men, and +fashionably attired women, who were all of the same blood, +between all of whom existed an unseizable resemblance. + +Not that they were conscious of it--the visits of such fateful, +bitter spirits are only felt. + +Then Swithin rose. He would not sit there, feeling like that--he +was not to be put down by anyone! And, manoeuvring round the +room with added pomp, he shook hands with each separately. + +"You tell Timothy from me," he said, "that he coddles himself too +much!" Then, turning to Francie, whom he considered 'smart,' he +added: "You come with me for a drive one of these days." But this +conjured up the vision of that other eventful drive which had +been so much talked about, and he stood quite still for a second, +with glassy eyes, as though waiting to catch up with the +significance of what he himself had said; then, suddenly +recollecting that he didn't care a damn, he turned to old Jolyon: +"Well, good-bye, Jolyon! You shouldn't go about without an +overcoat; you'll be getting sciatica or something!" And, kicking +the cat slightly with the pointed tip of his patent leather boot, +he took his huge form away. + +When he had gone everyone looked secretly at the others, to see +how they had taken the mention of the word 'drive'--the word +which had become famous, and acquired an overwhelming importance, +as the only official--so to speak--news in connection with the +vague and sinister rumour clinging to the family tongue. + +Euphemia, yielding to an impulse, said with a short laugh: "I'm +glad Uncle Swithin doesn't ask me to go for drives." + +Mrs. Small, to reassure her and smooth over any little +awkwardness the subject might have, replied: "My dear, he likes +to take somebody well dressed, who will do him a little credit. +I shall never forget the drive he took me. It was an +experience!" And her chubby round old face was spread for a +moment with a strange contentment; then broke into pouts, and +tears came into her eyes. She was thinking of that long ago +driving tour she had once taken with Septimus Small. + +James, who had relapsed into his nervous brooding in the little +chair, suddenly roused himself: "He's a funny fellow, Swithin," +he said, but in a half-hearted way. + +Old Jolyon's silence, his stern eyes, held them all in a kind of +paralysis. He was disconcerted himself by the effect of his own +words--an effect which seemed to deepen the importance of the +very rumour he had come to scotch; but he was still angry. + +He had not done with them yet--No, no--he would give them another +rub or two. + +He did not wish to rub his nieces, he had no quarrel with them--a +young and presentable female always appealed to old Jolyon's +clemency--but that fellow James, and, in a less degree perhaps, +those others, deserved all they would get. And he, too, asked +for Timothy. + +As though feeling that some danger threatened her younger +brother, Aunt Juley suddenly offered him tea: "There it is," she +said, "all cold and nasty, waiting for you in the back drawing +room, but Smither shall make you some fresh." + +Old Jolyon rose: "Thank you," he said, looking straight at James, +"but I've no time for tea, and--scandal, and the rest of it! +It's time I was at home. Good-bye, Julia; good-bye, Hester; +good-bye, Winifred." + +Without more ceremonious adieux, he marched out. + +Once again in his cab, his anger evaporated, for so it ever was +with his wrath--when he had rapped out, it was gone. Sadness +came over his spirit. He had stopped their mouths, maybe, but at +what a cost! At the cost of certain knowledge that the rumour he +had been resolved not to believe was true. June was abandoned, +and for the wife of that fellow's son! He felt it was true, and +hardened himself to treat it as if it were not; but the pain he +hid beneath this resolution began slowly, surely, to vent itself +in a blind resentment against James and his son. + +The six women and one man left behind in the little drawing-room +began talking as easily as might be after such an occurrence, for +though each one of them knew for a fact that he or she never +talked scandal, each one of them also knew that the other six +did; all were therefore angry and at a loss. James only was +silent, disturbed, to the bottom of his soul. + +Presently Francie said: "Do you know, I think Uncle Jolyon is +terribly changed this last year. What do you think, Aunt +Hester?" + +Aunt Hester made a little movement of recoil: "Oh, ask your Aunt +Julia!" she said; "I know nothing about it." + +No one else was afraid of assenting, and James muttered gloomily +at the floor: "He's not half the man he was." + +"I've noticed it a long time," went on Francie; "he's aged +tremendously." + +Aunt Juley shook her head; her face seemed suddenly to have +become one immense pout. + +"Poor dear Jolyon," she said, "somebody ought to see to it for +him!" + +There was again silence; then, as though in terror of being left +solitarily behind, all five visitors rose simultaneously, and +took their departure. + +Mrs. Small, Aunt Hester, and their cat were left once more alone, +the sound of a door closing in the distance announced the +approach of Timothy. + +That evening, when Aunt Hester had just got off to sleep in the +back bedroom that used to be Aunt Juley's before Aunt Juley took +Aunt Ann's, her door was opened, and Mrs. Small, in a pink +night-cap, a candle in her hand, entered: "Hester!" she said. +"Hester!" + +Aunt Hester faintly rustled the sheet. + +"Hester," repeated Aunt Juley, to make quite sure that she had +awakened her, "I am quite troubled about poor dear Jolyon. +What," Aunt Juley dwelt on the word, "do you think ought to be +done?" + +Aunt Hester again rustled the sheet, her voice was heard faintly +pleading: "Done? How should I know?" + +Aunt Juley turned away satisfied, and closing the door with extra +gentleness so as not to disturb dear Hester, let it slip through +her fingers and fall to with a 'crack.' + +Back in her own room, she stood at the window gazing at the moon +over the trees in the Park, through a chink in the muslin +curtains, close drawn lest anyone should see. And there, with +her face all round and pouting in its pink cap, and her eyes wet, +she thought of 'dear Jolyon,' so old and so lonely, and how she +could be of some use to him; and how he would come to love her, +as she had never been loved since--since poor Septimus went away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DANCE AT ROGER'S + + +Roger's house in Prince's Gardens was brilliantly alight. Large +numbers of wax candles had been collected and placed in cut-glass +chandeliers, and the parquet floor of the long, double +drawing-room reflected these constellations. An appearance of +real spaciousness had been secured by moving out all the +furniture on to the upper landings, and enclosing the room with +those strange appendages of civilization known as 'rout' seats. +In a remote corner, embowered in palms, was a cottage piano, with +a copy of the 'Kensington Coil' open on the music-stand. + +Roger had objected to a band. He didn't see in the least what +they wanted with a band; he wouldn't go to the expense, and there +was an end of it. Francie (her mother, whom Roger had long since +reduced to chronic dyspepsia, went to bed on such occasions), had +been obliged to content herself with supplementing the piano by a +young man who played the cornet, and she so arranged with palms +that anyone who did not look into the heart of things might +imagine there were several musicians secreted there. She made up +her mind to tell them to play loud--there was a lot of music in a +cornet, if the man would only put his soul into it. + +In the more cultivated American tongue, she was 'through' at +last--through that tortuous labyrinth of make-shifts, which must +be traversed before fashionable display can be combined with the +sound economy of a Forsyte. Thin but brilliant, in her +maize-coloured frock with much tulle about the shoulders, she +went from place to place, fitting on her gloves, and casting her +eye over it all. + +To the hired butler (for Roger only kept maids) she spoke about +the wine. Did he quite understand that Mr. Forsyte wished a +dozen bottles of the champagne from Whiteley's to be put out? +But if that were finished (she did not suppose it would be, most +of the ladies would drink water, no doubt), but if it were, there +was the champagne cup, and he must do the best he could with +that. + +She hated having to say this sort of thing to a butler, it was so +infra dig.; but what could you do with father? Roger, indeed, +after making himself consistently disagreeable about the dance, +would come down presently, with his fresh colour and bumpy +forehead, as though he had been its promoter; and he would smile, +and probably take the prettiest woman in to supper; and at two +o'clock, just as they were getting into the swing, he would go up +secretly to the musicians and tell them to play 'God Save the +Queen,' and go away. + +Francie devoutly hoped he might soon get tired, and slip off to +bed. + +The three or four devoted girl friends who were staying in the +house for this dance had partaken with her, in a small, +abandoned room upstairs, of tea and cold chicken-legs, hurriedly +served; the men had been sent out to dine at Eustace's Club, it +being felt that they must be fed up. + +Punctually on the stroke of nine arrived Mrs. Small alone. She +made elaborate apologies for the absence of Timothy, omitting all +mention of Aunt Hester, who, at the last minute, had said she +could not be bothered. Francie received her effusively, and +placed her on a rout seat, where she left her, pouting and +solitary in lavender-coloured satin--the first time she had worn +colour since Aunt Ann's death. + +The devoted maiden friends came now from their rooms, each by +magic arrangement in a differently coloured frock, but all with +the same liberal allowance of tulle on the shoulders and at the +bosom--for they were, by some fatality, lean to a girl. They +were all taken up to Mrs. Small. None stayed with her more than +a few seconds, but clustering together talked and twisted their +programmes, looking secretly at the door for the first appearance +of a man. + +Then arrived in a group a number of Nicholases, always punctual-- +the fashion up Ladbroke Grove way; and close behind them Eustace +and his men, gloomy and smelling rather of smoke. + +Three or four of Francie's lovers now appeared, one after the +other; she had made each promise to come early. They were all +clean-shaven and sprightly, with that peculiar kind of young-man +sprightliness which had recently invaded Kensington; they did not +seem to mind each other's presence in the least, and wore their +ties bunching out at the ends, white waistcoats, and socks with +clocks. All had handkerchiefs concealed in their cuffs. They +moved buoyantly, each armoured in professional gaiety, as though +he had come to do great deeds. Their faces when they danced, far +from wearing the traditional solemn look of the dancing English- +man, were irresponsible, charming, suave; they bounded, twirling +their partners at great pace, without pedantic attention to the +rhythm of the music. + +At other dancers they looked with a kind of airy scorn--they, the +light brigade, the heroes of a hundred Kensington 'hops'--from +whom alone could the right manner and smile and step be hoped. + +After this the stream came fast; chaperones silting up along the +wall facing the entrance, the volatile element swelling the eddy +in the larger room. + +Men were scarce, and wallflowers wore their peculiar, pathetic +expression, a patient, sourish smile which seemed to say: "Oh, +no! don't mistake me, I know you are not coming up to me. I can +hardly expect that!" And Francie would plead with one of her +lovers, or with some callow youth: "Now, to please me, do let me +introduce you to Miss Pink; such a nice girl, really!" and she +would bring him up, and say: "Miss Pink--Mr. Gathercole. Can you +spare him a dance?" Then Miss Pink, smiling her forced smile, +colouring a little, answered: "Oh! I think so!" and screening +her empty card, wrote on it the name of Gathercole, spelling it +passionately in the district that he proposed, about the second +extra. + +But when the youth had murmured that it was hot, and passed, she +relapsed into her attitude of hopeless expectation, into her +patient, sourish smile. + +Mothers, slowly fanning their faces, watched their daughters, and +in their eyes could be read all the story of those daughters' +fortunes. As for themselves, to sit hour after hour, dead tired, +silent, or talking spasmodically--what did it matter, so long as +the girls were having a good time! But to see them neglected and +passed by! Ah! they smiled, but their eyes stabbed like the +eyes of an offended swan; they longed to pluck young Gathercole +by the slack of his dandified breeches, and drag him to their +daughters--the jackanapes! + +And all the cruelties and hardness of life, its pathos and +unequal chances, its conceit, self-forgetfulness, and patience, +were presented on the battle-field of this Kensington ball-room. + +Here and there, too, lovers--not lovers like Francie's, a +peculiar breed, but simply lovers--trembling, blushing, silent, +sought each other by flying glances, sought to meet and touch in +the mazes of the dance, and now and again dancing together, +struck some beholder by the light in their eyes. + +Not a second before ten o'clock came the Jameses--Emily, Rachel, +Winifred (Dartie had been left behind, having on a former +occasion drunk too much of Roger's champagne), and Cicely, the +youngest, making her debut; behind them, following in a hansom +from the paternal mansion where they had dined, Soames and Irene. + +All these ladies had shoulder-straps and no tulle--thus showing +at once, by a bolder exposure of flesh, that they came from the +more fashionable side of the Park. + +Soames, sidling back from the contact of the dancers, took up a +position against the wall. Guarding himself with his pale smile, +he stood watching. Waltz after waltz began and ended, couple +after couple brushed by with smiling lips, laughter, and snatches +of talk; or with set lips, and eyes searching the throng; or +again, with silent, parted lips, and eyes on each other. And the +scent of festivity, the odour of flowers, and hair, of essences +that women love, rose suffocatingly in the heat of the summer +night. + +Silent, with something of scorn in his smile, Soames seemed to +notice nothing; but now and again his eyes, finding that which +they sought, would fix themselves on a point in the shifting +throng, and the smile die off his lips. + +He danced with no one. Some fellows danced with their wives; his +sense of 'form' had never permitted him to dance with Irene since +their marriage, and the God of the Forsytes alone can tell +whether this was a relief to him or not. + +She passed, dancing with other men, her dress, iris-coloured, +floating away from her feet. She danced well; he was tired of +hearing women say with an acid smile: "How beautifully your wife +dances, Mr. Forsyte--it's quite a pleasure to watch her!" Tired +of answering them with his sidelong glance: "You think so?" + +A young couple close by flirted a fan by turns, making an +unpleasant draught. Francie and one of her lovers stood near. +They were talking of love. + +He heard Roger's voice behind, giving an order about supper to a +servant. Everything was very second-class! He wished that he +had not come! He had asked Irene whether she wanted him; she had +answered with that maddening smile of hers "Oh, no!" + +Why had he come? For the last quarter of an hour he had not even +seen her. Here was George advancing with his Quilpish face; it +was too late to get out of his way. + +"Have you seen 'The Buccaneer'?" said this licensed wag; "he's on +the warpath--hair cut and everything!" + +Soames said he had not, and crossing the room, half-empty in an +interval of the dance, he went out on the balcony, and looked +down into the street. + +A carriage had driven up with late arrivals, and round the door +hung some of those patient watchers of the London streets who +spring up to the call of light or music; their faces, pale and +upturned above their black and rusty figures, had an air of +stolid watching that annoyed Soames. Why were they allowed to +hang about; why didn't the bobby move them on? + +But the policeman took no notice of them; his feet were planted +apart on the strip of crimson carpet stretched across the +pavement; his face, under the helmet, wore the same stolid, +watching look as theirs. + +Across the road, through the railings, Soames could see the +branches of trees shining, faintly stirring in the breeze, by the +gleam of the street lamps; beyond, again, the upper lights of the +houses on the other side, so many eyes looking down on the quiet +blackness of the garden; and over all, the sky, that wonderful +London sky, dusted with the innumerable reflection of countless +lamps; a dome woven over between its stars with the refraction of +human needs and human fancies--immense mirror of pomp and misery +that night after night stretches its kindly mocking over miles of +houses and gardens, mansions and squalor, over Forsytes, +policemen, and patient watchers in the streets. + +Soames turned away, and, hidden in the recess, gazed into the +lighted room. It was cooler out there. He saw the new arrivals, +June and her grandfather, enter. What had made them so late? +They stood by the doorway. They looked fagged. Fancy Uncle +Jolyon turning out at this time of night! Why hadn't June come +to Irene, as she usually did, and it occurred to him suddenly +that he had seen nothing of June for a long time now. + +Watching her face with idle malice, he saw it change, grow so +pale that he thought she would drop, then flame out crimson. +Turning to see at what she was looking, he saw his wife on +Bosinney's arm, coming from the conservatory at the end of the +room. Her eyes were raised to his, as though answering some +question he had asked, and he was gazing at her intently. + +Soames looked again at June. Her hand rested on old Jolyon's +arm; she seemed to be making a request. He saw a surprised look +on his uncle's face; they turned and passed through the door out +of his sight. + +The music began again--a waltz--and, still as a statue in the +recess of the window, his face unmoved, but no smile on his lips, +Soames waited. Presently, within a yard of the dark balcony, his +wife and Bosinney passed. He caught the perfume of the gardenias +that she wore, saw the rise and fall of her bosom, the languor in +her eyes, her parted lips, and a look on her face that he did not +know. To the slow, swinging measure they danced by, and it +seemed to him that they clung to each other; he saw her raise her +eyes, soft and dark, to Bosinney's, and drop them again. + +Very white, he turned back to the balcony, and leaning on it, +gazed down on the Square; the figures were still there looking up +at the light with dull persistency, the policeman's face, too, +upturned, and staring, but he saw nothing of them. Below, a +carriage drew up, two figures got in, and drove away.... + +That evening June and old Jolyon sat down to dinner at the usual +hour. The girl was in her customary high-necked frock, old +Jolyon had not dressed. + +At breakfast she had spoken of the dance at Uncle Roger's, she +wanted to go; she had been stupid enough, she said, not to think +of asking anyone to take her. It was too late now. + +Old Jolyon lifted his keen eyes. June was used to go to dances +with Irene as a matter of course! and deliberately fixing his +gaze on her, he asked: "Why don't you get Irene?" + +No! June did not want to ask Irene; she would only go if--if her +grandfather wouldn't mind just for once for a little time! + +At her look, so eager and so worn, old Jolyon had grumblingly +consented. He did not know what she wanted, he said, with going +to a dance like this, a poor affair, he would wager; and she no +more fit for it than a cat! What she wanted was sea air, and +after his general meeting of the Globular Gold Concessions he was +ready to take her. She didn't want to go away? Ah! she would +knock herself up! Stealing a mournful look at her, he went on +with his breakfast. + +June went out early, and wandered restlessly about in the heat. +Her little light figure that lately had moved so languidly about +its business, was all on fire. She bought herself some flowers. +She wanted--she meant to look her best. He would be there! She +knew well enough that he had a card. She would show him that she +did not care. But deep down in her heart she resolved that +evening to win him back. She came in flushed, and talked +brightly all lunch; old Jolyon was there, and he was deceived. + +In the afternoon she was overtaken by a desperate fit of sobbing. +She strangled the noise against the pillows of her bed, but when +at last it ceased she saw in the glass a swollen face with +reddened eyes, and violet circles round them. She stayed in the +darkened room till dinner time. + +All through that silent meal the struggle went on within her. + +She looked so shadowy and exhausted that old Jolyon told 'Sankey' +to countermand the carriage, he would not have her going out.... +She was to go to bed! She made no resistance. She went up to +her room, and sat in the dark. At ten o'clock she rang for her +maid. + +"Bring some hot water, and go down and tell Mr. Forsyte that I +feel perfectly rested. Say that if he's too tired I can go to +the dance by myself." + +The maid looked askance, and June turned on her imperiously. +"Go," she said, "bring the hot water at once!" + +Her ball-dress still lay on the sofa, and with a sort of fierce +care she arrayed herself, took the flowers in her hand, and went +down, her small face carried high under its burden of hair. She +could hear old Jolyon in his room as she passed. + +Bewildered and vexed, he was dressing. It was past ten, they +would not get there till eleven; the girl was mad. But he dared +not cross her--the expression of her face at dinner haunted him. + +With great ebony brushes he smoothed his hair till it shone like +silver under the light; then he, too, came out on the gloomy +staircase. + +June met him below, and, without a word, they went to the +carriage. + +When, after that drive which seemed to last for ever, she entered +Roger's drawing-room, she disguised under a mask of resolution a +very torment of nervousness and emotion. The feeling of shame at +what might be called 'running after him' was smothered by the +dread that he might not be there, that she might not see him +after all, and by that dogged resolve--somehow, she did not know +how--to win him back. + +The sight of the ballroom, with its gleaming floor, gave her a +feeling of joy, of triumph, for she loved dancing, and when +dancing she floated, so light was she, like a strenuous, eager +little spirit. He would surely ask her to dance, and if he +danced with her it would all be as it was before. She looked +about her eagerly. + +The sight of Bosinney coming with Irene from the conservatory, +with that strange look of utter absorption on his face, struck +her too suddenly. They had not seen--no one should see--her +distress, not even her grandfather. + +She put her hand on Jolyon's arm, and said very low: + +"I must go home, Gran; I feel ill." + +He hurried her away, grumbling to himself that he had known how +it would be. + +To her he said nothing; only when they were once more in the +carriage, which by some fortunate chance had lingered near the +door, he asked her: "What is it, my darling?" + +Feeling her whole slender body shaken by sobs, he was terribly +alarmed. She must have Blank to-morrow. He would insist upon +it. He could not have her like this.... There, there! + +June mastered her sobs, and squeezing his hand feverishly, she +lay back in her corner, her face muffled in a shawl. + +He could only see her eyes, fixed and staring in the dark, but he +did not cease to stroke her hand with his thin fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +EVENING AT RICHMOND + + +Other eyes besides the eyes of June and of Soames had seen 'those +two' (as Euphemia had already begun to call them) coming from the +conservatory; other eyes had noticed the look on Bosinney's face. + +There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath +the careless calm of her ordinary moods--violent spring flashing +white on almond-blossom through the purple clouds; a snowy, +moonlit peak, with its single star, soaring up to the passionate +blue; or against the flames of sunset, an old yew-tree standing +dark guardian of some fiery secret. + +There are moments, too, when in a picture-gallery, a work, noted +by the casual spectator as '......Titian--remarkably fine,' +breaks through the defences of some Forsyte better lunched +perhaps than his fellows, and holds him spellbound in a kind of +ecstasy. There are things, he feels--there are things here +which--well, which are things. Something unreasoning, +unreasonable, is upon him; when he tries to define it with the +precision of a practical man, it eludes him, slips away, as the +glow of the wine he has drunk is slipping away, leaving him +cross, and conscious of his liver. He feels that he has been +extravagant, prodigal of something; virtue has gone out of him. +He did not desire this glimpse of what lay under the three stars +of his catalogue. God forbid that he should know anything about +the forces of Nature! God forbid that he should admit for a +moment that there are such things! Once admit that, and where +was he? One paid a shilling for entrance, and another for the +programme. + +The look which June had seen, which other Forsytes had seen, was +like the sudden flashing of a candle through a hole in some +imaginary canvas, behind which it was being moved--the sudden +flaming-out of a vague, erratic glow, shadowy and enticing. It +brought home to onlookers the consciousness that dangerous forces +were at work. For a moment they noticed it with pleasure, with +interest, then felt they must not notice it at all. + +It supplied, however, the reason of June's coming so late and +disappearing again without dancing, without even shaking hands +with her lover. She was ill, it was said, and no wonder. + +But here they looked at each other guiltily. They had no desire +to spread scandal, no desire to be ill-natured. Who would have? +And to outsiders no word was breathed, unwritten law keeping them +silent. + +Then came the news that June had gone to the seaside with old +Jolyon. + +He had carried her off to Broadstairs, for which place there was +just then a feeling, Yarmouth having lost caste, in spite of +Nicholas, and no Forsyte going to the sea without intending to +have an air for his money such as would render him bilious in a +week. That fatally aristocratic tendency of the first Forsyte to +drink Madeira had left his descendants undoubtedly accessible. + +So June went to the sea. The family awaited developments; there +was nothing else to do. + +But how far--how far had 'those two' gone? How far were they +going to go? Could they really be going at all? Nothing could +surely come of it, for neither of them had any money. At the +most a flirtation, ending, as all such attachments should, at the +proper time. + +Soames' sister, Winifred Dartie, who had imbibed with the breezes +of Mayfair--she lived in Green Street--more fashionable +principles in regard to matrimonial behaviour than were current, +for instance, in Ladbroke Grove, laughed at the idea of there +being anything in it. The 'little thing'--Irene was taller than +herself, and it was real testimony to the solid worth of a +Forsyte that she should always thus be a 'little thing'--the +little thing was bored. Why shouldn't she amuse herself? Soames +was rather tiring; and as to Mr. Bosinney--only that buffoon +George would have called him the Buccaneer--she maintained that +he was very chic. + +This dictum--that Bosinney was chic--caused quit a sensation. It +failed to convince. That he was 'good-looking in a way' they +were prepared to admit, but that anyone could call a man with his +pronounced cheekbones, curious eyes, arid soft felt hats chic was +only another instance of Winifred's extravagant way of running +after something new. + +It was that famous summer when extravagance was fashionable, when +the very earth was extravagant, chestnut-trees spread with +blossom, and flowers drenched in perfume, as they had never been +before; when roses blew in every garden; and for the swarming +stars the nights had hardly space; when every day and all day +long the sun, in full armour, swung his brazen shield above the +Park, and people did strange things, lunching and dining in the +open air. Unprecedented was the tale of cabs and carriages that +streamed across the bridges of the shining river, bearing the +upper-middle class in thousands to the green glories of Bushey, +Richmond, Kew, and Hampton Court. Almost every family with any +pretensions to be of the carriage-class paid one visit that year +to the horse-chestnuts at Bushey, or took one drive amongst the +Spanish chestnuts of Richmond Park. Bowling smoothly, if +dustily, along, in a cloud of their own creation, they would +stare fashionably at the antlered heads which the great slow deer +raised out of a forest of bracken that promised to autumn lovers +such cover as was never seen before. And now and again, as the +amorous perfume of chestnut flowers and of fern was drifted too +near, one would say to the other: "My dear! What a peculiar +scent!" + +And the lime-flowers that year were of rare prime, near +honey-coloured. At the corners of London squares they gave out, +as the sun went down, a perfume sweeter than the honey bees had +taken--a perfume that stirred a yearning unnamable in the hearts +of Forsytes and their peers, taking the cool after dinner in the +precincts of those gardens to which they alone had keys. + +And that yearning made them linger amidst the dim shapes of +flower-beds in the failing daylight, made them turn, and turn, +and turn again, as though lovers were waiting for them--waiting +for the last light to die away under the shadow of the branches. + +Some vague sympathy evoked by the scent of the limes, some +sisterly desire to see for herself, some idea of demonstrating +the soundness of her dictum that there was 'nothing in it'; or +merely the craving to drive down to Richmond, irresistible that +summer, moved the mother of the little Darties (of little +Publius, of Imogen, Maud, and Benedict) to write the following +note to her sister-in-law: + + +'DEAR IRENE, +'June 30. + +'I hear that Soames is going to Henley tomorrow for the night. I +thought it would be great fun if we made up a little party and +drove down to, Richmond. Will you ask Mr. Bosinney, and I will +get young Flippard. + +'Emily (they called their mother Emily--it was so chic) will lend +us the carriage. I will call for you and your young man at seven +o'clock. + +'Your affectionate sister, + +'WINIFRED DARTIE. + +'Montague believes the dinner at the Crown and Sceptre to be +quite eatable.' + + +Montague was Dartie's second and better known name--his first +being Moses; for he was nothing if not a man of the world. + +Her plan met with more opposition from Providence than so +benevolent a scheme deserved. In the first place young Flippard +wrote: + + +'DEAR Mrs. DARTIE, + +'Awfully sorry. Engaged two deep. + +'Yours, + +'AUGUSTUS FLIPPARD.' + + +It was late to send into the by-ways and hedges to remedy this +misfortune. With the promptitude and conduct of a mother, +Winifred fell back on her husband. She had, indeed, the decided +but tolerant temperament that goes with a good deal of profile, +fair hair, and greenish eyes. She was seldom or never at a loss; +or if at a loss, was always able to convert it into a gain. + +Dartie, too, was in good feather. Erotic had failed to win the +Lancashire Cup. Indeed, that celebrated animal, owned as he was +by a pillar of the turf, who had secretly laid many thousands +against him, had not even started. The forty-eight hours that +followed his scratching were among the darkest in Dartie's life. + +Visions of James haunted him day and night. Black thoughts about +Soames mingled with the faintest hopes. On the Friday night he +got drunk, so greatly was he affected. But on Saturday morning +the true Stock Exchange instinct triumphed within him. Owing +some hundreds, which by no possibility could he pay, he went into +town and put them all on Concertina for the Saltown Borough +Handicap. + +As he said to Major Scrotton, with whom he lunched at the Iseeum: +"That little Jew boy, Nathans, had given him the tip. He didn't +care a cursh. He wash in--a mucker. If it didn't come up--well +then, damme, the old man would have to pay!" + +A bottle of Pol Roger to his own cheek had given him a new +contempt for James. + +It came up. Concertina was squeezed home by her neck--a terrible +squeak! But, as Dartie said: There was nothing like pluck! + +He was by no means averse to the expedition to Richmond. He +would 'stand' it himself! He cherished an admiration for Irene, +and wished to be on more playful terms with her. + +At half-past five the Park Lane footman came round to say: Mrs. +Forsyte was very sorry, but one of the horses was coughing! + +Undaunted by this further blow, Winifred at once despatched +little Publius (now aged seven) with the nursery governess to +Montpellier Square. + +They would go down in hansoms and meet at the Crown and Sceptre +at 7.45. + +Dartie, on being told, was pleased enough. It was better than +going down with your back to the horses! He had no objection to +driving down with Irene. He supposed they would pick up the +others at Montpellier Square, and swop hansoms there? + +Informed that the meet was at the Crown and Sceptre, and that he +would have to drive with his wife, he turned sulky, and said it +was d---d slow! + +At seven o'clock they started, Dartie offering to bet the driver +half-a-crown he didn't do it in the three-quarters of an hour. + +Twice only did husband and wife exchange remarks on the way. + +Dartie said: "It'll put Master Soames's nose out of joint to hear +his wife's been drivin' in a hansom with Master Bosinney!" + +Winifred replied: "Don't talk such nonsense, Monty!" + +"Nonsense!" repeated Dartie. "You don't know women, my fine +lady!" + +On the other occasion he merely asked: "How am I looking? A bit +puffy about the gills? That fizz old George is so fond of is a +windy wine!" + +He had been lunching with George Forsyte at the Haversnake. + +Bosinney and Irene had arrived before them. They were standing +in one of the long French windows overlooking the river. + +Windows that summer were open all day long, and all night too, +and day and night the scents of flowers and trees came in, the +hot scent of parching grass, and the cool scent of the heavy +dews. + +To the eye of the observant Dartie his two guests did not appear +to be making much running, standing there close together, without +a word. Bosinney was a hungry-looking creature--not much go +about him + +He left them to Winifred, however, and busied himself to order +the dinner. + +A Forsyte will require good, if not delicate feeding, but a +Dartie will tax the resources of a Crown and Sceptre. Living as +he does, from hand to mouth, nothing is too good for him to eat; +and he will eat it. His drink, too, will need to be carefully +provided; there is much drink in this country 'not good enough' +for a Dartie; he will have the best. Paying for things +vicariously, there is no reason why he should stint himself. To +stint yourself is the mark of a fool, not of a Dartie. + +The best of everything! No sounder principle on which a man can +base his life, whose father-in-law has a very considerable +income, and a partiality for his grandchildren. + +With his not unable eye Dartie had spotted this weakness in James +the very first year after little Publius's arrival (an error); he +had profited by his perspicacity. Four little Darties were now a +sort of perpetual insurance. + +The feature of the feast was unquestionably the red mullet. This +delectable fish, brought from a considerable distance in a state +of almost perfect preservation, was first fried, then boned, then +served in ice, with Madeira punch in place of sauce, according to +a recipe known to a few men of the world. + +Nothing else calls for remark except the payment of the bill by +Dartie. + +He had made himself extremely agreeable throughout the meal; his +bold, admiring stare seldom abandoning Irene's face and figure. +As he was obliged to confess to himself, he got no change out of +her--she was cool enough, as cool as her shoulders looked under +their veil of creamy lace. He expected to have caught her out in +some little game with Bosinney; but not a bit of it, she kept up +her end remarkably well. As for that architect chap, he was as +glum as a bear with a sore head--Winifred could barely get a word +out of him; he ate nothing, but he certainly took his liquor, and +his face kept getting whiter, and his eyes looked queer. + +It was all very amusing. + +For Dartie himself was in capital form, and talked freely, with a +certain poignancy, being no fool. He told two or three stories +verging on the improper, a concession to the company, for his +stories were not used to verging. He proposed Irene's health in +a mock speech. Nobody drank it, and Winifred said: "Don't be +such a clown, Monty!" + +At her suggestion they went after dinner to the public terrace +overlooking the river. + +"I should like to see the common people making love," she said, +"it's such fun!" + +There were numbers of them walking in the cool, after the day's +heat, and the air was alive with the sound of voices, coarse and +loud, or soft as though murmuring secrets. + +It was not long before Winifred's better sense--she was the only +Forsyte present--secured them an empty bench. They sat down in a +row. A heavy tree spread a thick canopy above their heads, and +the haze darkened slowly over the river. + +Dartie sat at the end, next to him Irene, then Bosinney, then +Winifred. There was hardly room for four, and the man of the +world could feel Irene's arm crushed against his own; he knew +that she could not withdraw it without seeming rude, and this +amused him; he devised every now and again a movement that would +bring her closer still. He thought: 'That Buccaneer Johnny +shan't have it all to himself! It's a pretty tight fit, +certainly!' + +From far down below on the dark river came drifting the tinkle of +a mandoline, and voices singing the old round: + +'A boat, a boat, unto the ferry, +For we'll go over and be merry; +And laugh, and quaff, and drink brown sherry!' + +And suddenly the moon appeared, young and tender, floating up on +her back from behind a tree; and as though she had breathed, the +air was cooler, but down that cooler air came always the warm +odour of the limes. + +Over his cigar Dartie peered round at Bosinney, who was sitting +with his arms crossed, staring straight in front of him, and on +his face the look of a man being tortured. + +And Dartie shot a glance at the face between, so veiled by the +overhanging shadow that it was but like a darker piece of the +darkness shaped and breathed on; soft, mysterious, enticing. + +A hush had fallen on the noisy terrace, as if all the strollers +were thinking secrets too precious to be spoken. + +And Dartie thought: 'Women!' + +The glow died above the river, the singing ceased; the young moon +hid behind a tree, and all was dark. He pressed himself against +Irene. + +He was not alarmed at the shuddering that ran through the limbs +he touched, or at the troubled, scornful look of her eyes. He +felt her trying to draw herself away, and smiled. + +It must be confessed that the man of the world had drunk quite as +much as was good for him. + +With thick lips parted under his well-curled moustaches, and his +bold eyes aslant upon her, he had the malicious look of a satyr. + +Along the pathway of sky between the hedges of the tree tops the +stars clustered forth; like mortals beneath, they seemed to shift +and swarm and whisper. Then on the terrace the buzz broke out +once more, and Dartie thought: 'Ah! he's a poor, hungry-looking +devil, that Bosinney!' and again he pressed himself against Irene. + +The movement deserved a better success. She rose, and they all +followed her. + +The man of the world was more than ever determined to see what +she was made of. Along the terrace he kept close at her elbow. +He had within him much good wine. There was the long drive home, +the long drive and the warm dark and the pleasant closeness of +the hansom cab--with its insulation from the world devised by +some great and good man. That hungry architect chap might drive +with his wife--he wished him joy of her! And, conscious that his +voice was not too steady, he was careful not to speak; but a +smile had become fixed on his thick lips. + +They strolled along toward the cabs awaiting them at the farther +end. His plan had the merit of all great plans, an almost brutal +simplicity he would merely keep at her elbow till she got in, and +get in quickly after her. + +But when Irene reached the cab she did not get in; she slipped, +instead, to the horse's head. Dartie was not at the moment +sufficiently master of his legs to follow. She stood stroking +the horse's nose, and, to his annoyance, Bosinney was at her side +first. She turned and spoke to him rapidly, in a low voice; the +words 'That man' reached Dartie. He stood stubbornly by the cab +step, waiting for her to come back. He knew a trick worth two of +that! + +Here, in the lamp-light, his figure (no more than medium height), +well squared in its white evening waistcoat, his light overcoat +flung over his arm, a pink flower in his button-hole, and on his +dark face that look of confident, good-humoured insolence, he was +at his best--a thorough man of the world. + +Winifred was already in her cab. Dartie reflected that Bosinney +would have a poorish time in that cab if he didn't look sharp! +Suddenly he received a push which nearly overturned him in the +road. Bosinney's voice hissed in his ear: "I am taking Irene +back; do you understand?" He saw a face white with passion, and +eyes that glared at him like a wild cat's. + +"Eh?" he stammered. "What? Not a bit. You take my wife!" + +"Get away!" hissed Bosinney--"or I'll throw you into the road!" + +Dartie recoiled; he saw as plainly as possible that the fellow +meant it. In the space he made Irene had slipped by, her dress +brushed his legs. Bosinney stepped in after her. + +"Go on!" he heard the Buccaneer cry. The cabman flicked his +horse. It sprang forward. + +Dartie stood for a moment dumbfounded; then, dashing at the cab +where his wife sat, he scrambled in. + +"Drive on!" he shouted to the driver, "and don't you lose sight +of that fellow in front!" + +Seated by his wife's side, he burst into imprecations. Calming +himself at last with a supreme effort, he added: "A pretty mess +you've made of it, to let the Buccaneer drive home with her; why +on earth couldn't you keep hold of him? He's mad with love; any +fool can see that!" + +He drowned Winifred's rejoinder with fresh calls to the Almighty; +nor was it until they reached Barnes that he ceased a Jeremiad, +in the course of which he had abused her, her father, her +brother, Irene, Bosinney, the name of Forsyte, his own children, +and cursed the day when he had ever married. + +Winifred, a woman of strong character, let him have his say, at +the end of which he lapsed into sulky silence. His angry eyes +never deserted the back of that cab, which, like a lost chance, +haunted the darkness in front of him. + +Fortunately he could not hear Bosinney's passionate pleading-- +that pleading which the man of the world's conduct had let loose +like a flood; he could not see Irene shivering, as though some +garment had been torn from her, nor her eyes, black and mournful, +like the eyes of a beaten child. He could not hear Bosinney +entreating, entreating, always entreating; could not hear her +sudden, soft weeping, nor see that poor, hungry-looking devil, +awed and trembling, humbly touching her hand. + +In Montpellier Square their cabman, following his instructions to +the letter, faithfully drew up behind the cab in front. The +Darties saw Bosinney spring out, and Irene follow, and hasten up +the steps with bent head. She evidently had her key in her hand, +for she disappeared at once. It was impossible to tell whether +she had turned to speak to Bosinney. + +The latter came walking past their cab; both husband and wife had +an admirable view of his face in the light of a street lamp. It +was working with violent emotion. + +"Good-night, Mr. Bosinney!" called Winifred. + +Bosinney started, clawed off his hat, and hurried on. He had +obviously forgotten their existence. + +"There!" said Dartie, "did you see the beast's face? What did I +say? Fine games!" He improved the occasion. + +There had so clearly been a crisis in the cab that Winifred was +unable to defend her theory. + +She said: "I shall say nothing about it. I don't see any use in +making a fuss!" + +With that view Dartie at once concurred; looking upon James as a +private preserve, he disapproved of his being disturbed by the +troubles of others. + +"Quite right," he said; "let Soames look after himself. He's +jolly well able to!" + +Thus speaking, the Darties entered their habitat in Green Street, +the rent of which was paid by James, and sought a well-earned +rest. The hour was midnight, and no Forsytes remained abroad in +the streets to spy out Bosinney's wanderings; to see him return +and stand against the rails of the Square garden, back from the +glow of the street lamp; to see him stand there in the shadow of +trees, watching the house where in the dark was hidden she whom +he would have given the world to see for a single minute--she who +was now to him the breath of the lime-trees, the meaning of the +light and the darkness, the very beating of his own heart. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +DIAGNOSIS OF A FORSYTE + + +It is in the nature of a Forsyte to be ignorant that he is a +Forsyte; but young Jolyon was well aware of being one. He had +not known it till after the decisive step which had made him an +outcast; since then the knowledge had been with him continually. +He felt it throughout his alliance, throughout all his dealings +with his second wife, who was emphatically not a Forsyte. + +He knew that if he had not possessed in great measure the eye for +what he wanted, the tenacity to hold on to it, the sense of the +folly of wasting that for which he had given so big a price--in +other words, the 'sense of property' he could never have retained +her (perhaps never would have desired to retain her) with him +through all the financial troubles, slights, and misconstructions +of those fifteen years; never have induced her to marry him on +the death of his first wife; never have lived it all through, and +come up, as it were, thin, but smiling. + +He was one of those men who, seated cross-legged like miniature +Chinese idols in the cages of their own hearts, are ever smiling +at themselves a doubting smile. Not that this smile, so intimate +and eternal, interfered with his actions, which, like his chin +and his temperament, were quite a peculiar blend of softness and +determination. + +He was conscious, too, of being a Forsyte in his work, that +painting of water-colours to which he devoted so much energy, +always with an eye on himself, as though he could not take so +unpractical a pursuit quite seriously, and always with a certain +queer uneasiness that he did not make more money at it. + +It was, then, this consciousness of what it meant to be a +Forsyte, that made him receive the following letter from old +Jolyon, with a mixture of sympathy and disgust: + + +'SHELDRAKE HOUSE, + 'BROADSTAIRS, + +'July 1. +'MY DEAR JO,' + +(The Dad's handwriting had altered very little in the thirty odd +years that he remembered it.) + +'We have been here now a fortnight, and have had good weather on +the whole. The air is bracing, but my liver is out of order, and +I shall be glad enough to get back to town. I cannot say much +for June, her health and spirits are very indifferent, and I +don't see what is to come of it. She says nothing, but it is +clear that she is harping on this engagement, which is an +engagement and no engagement, and--goodness knows what. I have +grave doubts whether she ought to be allowed to return to London +in the present state of affairs, but she is so self-willed that +she might take it into her head to come up at any moment. The +fact is someone ought to speak to Bosinney and ascertain what he +means. I'm afraid of this myself, for I should certainly rap him +over the knuckles, but I thought that you, knowing him at the +Club, might put in a word, and get to ascertain what the fellow +is about. You will of course in no way commit June. I shall be +glad to hear from you in the course of a few days whether you +have succeeded in gaining any information. The situation is very +distressing to me, I worry about it at night. + +With my love to Jolly and Holly. +'I am, + 'Your affect. father, + +'JOLYON FORSYTE.' + + +Young Jolyon pondered this letter so long and seriously that his +wife noticed his preoccupation, and asked him what was the +matter. He replied: "Nothing." + +It was a fixed principle with him never to allude to June. She +might take alarm, he did not know what she might think; he +hastened, therefore, to banish from his manner all traces of +absorption, but in this he was about as successful as his father +would have been, for he had inherited all old Jolyon's +transparency in matters of domestic finesse; and young Mrs. +Jolyon, busying herself over the affairs of the house, went about +with tightened lips, stealing at him unfathomable looks. + +He started for the Club in the afternoon with the letter in his +pocket, and without having made up his mind. + +To sound a man as to 'his intentions' was peculiarly unpleasant +to him; nor did his own anomalous position diminish this +unpleasantness. It was so like his family, so like all the +people they knew and mixed with, to enforce what they called +their rights over a man, to bring him up to the mark; so like +them to carry their business principles into their private +relations. + +And how that phrase in the letter--'You will, of course, in no +way commit June'--gave the whole thing away. + +Yet the letter, with the personal grievance, the concern for +June, the 'rap over the knuckles,' was all so natural. No wonder +his father wanted to know what Bosinney meant, no wonder he was +angry. + +It was difficult to refuse! But why give the thing to him to do? +That was surely quite unbecoming; but so long as a Forsyte got +what he was after, he was not too particular about the means, +provided appearances were saved. + +How should he set about it, or how refuse? Both seemed impossible. +So, young Jolyon! + +He arrived at the Club at three o'clock, and the first person he +saw was Bosinney himself, seated in a corner, staring out of the +window. + +Young Jolyon sat down not far off, and began nervously to +reconsider his position. He looked covertly at Bosinney sitting +there unconscious. He did not know him very well, and studied +him attentively for perhaps the first time; an unusual looking +man, unlike in dress, face, and manner to most of the other +members of the Club--young Jolyon himself, however different he +had become in mood and temper, had always retained the neat +reticence of Forsyte appearance. He alone among Forsytes was +ignorant of Bosinney's nickname. The man was unusual, not +eccentric, but unusual; he looked worn, too, haggard, hollow in +the cheeks beneath those broad, high cheekbones, though without +any appearance of ill-health, for he was strongly built, with +curly hair that seemed to show all the vitality of a fine +constitution. + +Something in his face and attitude touched young Jolyon. He knew +what suffering was like, and this man looked as if he were +suffering. + +He got up and touched his arm. + +Bosinney started, but exhibited no sign of embarrassment on +seeing who it was. + +Young Jolyon sat down. + +"I haven't seen you for a long time," he said. "How are you +getting on with my cousin's house?" + +"It'll be finished in about a week." + +"I congratulate you!" + +"Thanks--I don't know that it's much of a subject for +congratulation." + +"No?" queried young Jolyon; "I should have thought you'd be glad +to get a long job like that off your hands; but I suppose you +feel it much as I do when I part with a picture--a sort of +child?" + +He looked kindly at Bosinney. + +"Yes," said the latter more cordially, "it goes out from you and +there's an end of it. I didn't know you painted." + +"Only water-colours; I can't say I believe in my work." + +"Don't believe in it? There--how can you do it? Work's no use +unless you believe in it!" + +"Good," said young Jolyon; "it's exactly what I've always said. +By-the-bye, have you noticed that whenever one says 'Good,' one +always adds 'it's exactly what I've always said'! But if you ask +me how I do it, I answer, because I'm a Forsyte." + +"A Forsyte! I never thought of you as one!" + +"A Forsyte," replied young Jolyon, "is not an uncommon animal. +There are hundreds among the members of this Club. Hundreds out +there in the streets; you meet them wherever you go!" + +"And how do you tell them, may I ask?" said Bosinney. + +"By their sense of property. A Forsyte takes a practical--one +might say a commonsense--view of things, and a practical view of +things is based fundamentally on a sense of property. A Forsyte, +you will notice, never gives himself away." + +"Joking?" + +Young Jolyon's eye twinkled. + +"Not much. As a Forsyte myself, I have no business to talk. But +I'm a kind of thoroughbred mongrel; now, there's no mistaking +you: You're as different from me as I am from my Uncle James, who +is the perfect specimen of a Forsyte. His sense of property is +extreme, while you have practically none. Without me in between, +you would seem like a different species. I'm the missing link. +We are, of course, all of us the slaves of property, and I admit +that it's a question of degree, but what I call a 'Forsyte' is a +man who is decidedly more than less a slave of property. He +knows a good thing, he knows a safe thing, and his grip on +property--it doesn't matter whether it be wives, houses, money, +or reputation--is his hall-mark." + +"Ah!" murmured Bosinney. "You should patent the word." + +"I should like," said young Jolyon, "to lecture on it: + +"Properties and quality of a Forsyte: This little animal, +disturbed by the ridicule of his own sort, is unaffected in his +motions by the laughter of strange creatures (you or I). +Hereditarily disposed to myopia, he recognises only the persons +of his own species, amongst which he passes an existence of +competitive tranquillity." + +"You talk of them," said Bosinney, "as if they were half +England." + +"They are," repeated young Jolyon, "half England, and the better +half, too, the safe half, the three per cent. half, the half +that counts. It's their wealth and security that makes +everything possible; makes your art possible, makes literature, +science, even religion, possible. Without Forsytes, who believe +in none of these things, and habitats but turn them all to use, +where should we be? My dear sir, the Forsytes are the middlemen, +the commercials, the pillars of society, the cornerstones of +convention; everything that is admirable!" + +"I don't know whether I catch your drift," said Bosinney, "but I +fancy there are plenty of Forsytes, as you call them, in my +profession." + +"Certainly," replied young Jolyon. "The great majority of +architects, painters, or writers have no principles, like any +other Forsytes. Art, literature, religion, survive by virtue of +the few cranks who really believe in such things, and the many +Forsytes who make a commercial use of them. At a low estimate, +three-fourths of our Royal Academicians are Forsytes, seven- +eighths of our novelists, a large proportion of the press. +Of science I can't speak; they are magnificently represented in +religion; in the House of Commons perhaps more numerous than +anywhere; the aristocracy speaks for itself. But I'm not +laughing. It is dangerous to go against the majority and what a +majority!" He fixed his eyes on Bosinney: "It's dangerous to let +anything carry you away--a house, a picture, a--woman!" + +They looked at each other.--And, as though he had done that which +no Forsyte did--given himself away, young Jolyon drew into his +shell. Bosinney broke the silence. + +"Why do you take your own people as the type?" said he. + +"My people," replied young Jolyon, "are not very extreme, and +they have their own private peculiarities, like every other +family, but they possess in a remarkable degree those two +qualities which are the real tests of a Forsyte--the power of +never being able to give yourself up to anything soul and body, +and the 'sense of property'." + +Bosinney smiled: "How about the big one, for instance?" + +"Do you mean Swithin?" asked young Jolyon. "Ah! in Swithin +there's something primeval still. The town and middle-class +life haven't digested him yet. All the old centuries of farm work +and brute force have settled in him, and there they've stuck, for +all he's so distinguished." + +Bosinney seemed to ponder. "Well, you've hit your cousin Soames +off to the life," he said suddenly. "He'll never blow his brains +out." + +Young Jolyon shot at him a penetrating glance. + +"No," he said; "he won't. That's why he's to be reckoned with. +Look out for their grip! It's easy to laugh, but don't mistake +me. It doesn't do to despise a Forsyte; it doesn't do to +disregard them!" + +"Yet you've done it yourself!" + +Young Jolyon acknowledged the hit by losing his smile. + +"You forget," he said with a queer pride, "I can hold on, too-- +I'm a Forsyte myself. We're all in the path of great forces. +The man who leaves the shelter of the wall--well--you know what I +mean. I don't," he ended very low, as though uttering a threat, +"recommend every man to-go-my-way. It depends." + +The colour rushed into Bosinney's face, but soon receded, leaving +it sallow-brown as before. He gave a short laugh, that left his +lips fixed in a queer, fierce smile; his eyes mocked young +Jolyon. + +"Thanks," he said. "It's deuced kind of you. But you're not the +only chaps that can hold on." He rose. + +Young Jolyon looked after him as he walked away, and, resting his +head on his hand, sighed. + +In the drowsy, almost empty room the only sounds were the rustle +of newspapers, the scraping of matches being struck. He stayed a +long time without moving, living over again those days when he, +too, had sat long hours watching the clock, waiting for the +minutes to pass--long hours full of the torments of uncertainty, +and of a fierce, sweet aching; and the slow, delicious agony of +that season came back to him with its old poignancy. The sight +of Bosinney, with his haggard face, and his restless eyes always +wandering to the clock, had roused in him a pity, with which was +mingled strange, irresistible envy. + +He knew the signs so well. Whither was he going--to what sort of +fate? What kind of woman was it who was drawing him to her by +that magnetic force which no consideration of honour, no +principle, no interest could withstand; from which the only +escape was flight. + +Flight! But why should Bosinney fly? A man fled when he was in +danger of destroying hearth and home, when there were children, +when he felt himself trampling down ideals, breaking something. +But here, so he had heard, it was all broken to his hand. + +He himself had not fled, nor would he fly if it were all to come +over again. Yet he had gone further than Bosinney, had broken up +his own unhappy home, not someone else's: And the old saying came +back to him: 'A man's fate lies in his own heart.' + +In his own heart! The proof of the pudding was in the eating-- +Bosinney had still to eat his pudding. + +His thoughts passed to the woman, the woman whom he did not know, +but the outline of whose story he had heard. + +An unhappy marriage! No ill-treatment--only that indefinable +malaise, that terrible blight which killed all sweetness under +Heaven; and so from day to day, from night to night, from week to +week, from year to year, till death should end it. + +But young Jolyon, the bitterness of whose own feelings time had +assuaged, saw Soames' side of the question too. Whence should a +man like his cousin, saturated with all the prejudices and +beliefs of his class, draw the insight or inspiration necessary +to break up this life? It was a question of imagination, of +projecting himself into the future beyond the unpleasant gossip, +sneers, and tattle that followed on such separations, beyond the +passing pangs that the lack of the sight of her would cause, +beyond the grave disapproval of the worthy. But few men, and +especially few men of Soames' class, had imagination enough for +that. A deal of mortals in this world, and not enough +imagination to go round! And sweet Heaven, what a difference +between theory and practice; many a man, perhaps even Soames, +held chivalrous views on such matters, who when the shoe pinched +found a distinguishing factor that made of himself an exception. + +Then, too, he distrusted his judgment. He had been through the +experience himself, had tasted too the dregs the bitterness of an +unhappy marriage, and how could he take the wide and dispassionate +view of those who had never been within sound of the battle? +His evidence was too first-hand--like the evidence on military +matters of a soldier who has been through much active service, +against that of civilians who have not suffered the disadvantage +of seeing things too close. Most people would consider such a +marriage as that of Soames and Irene quite fairly successful; +he had money, she had beauty; it was a case for compromise. +There was no reason why they should not jog along, even if they +hated each other. It would not matter if they went their own +ways a little so long as the decencies were observed--the +sanctity of the marriage tie, of the common home, respected. +Half the marriages of the upper classes were conducted on these +lines: Do not offend the susceptibilities of Society; do not +offend the susceptibilities of the Church. To avoid offending +these is worth the sacrifice of any private feelings. The +advantages of the stable home are visible, tangible, so many +pieces of property; there is no risk in the statu quo. To break +up a home is at the best a dangerous experiment, and selfish into +the bargain. + +This was the case for the defence, and young Jolyon sighed. + +'The core of it all,' he thought, 'is property, but there are +many people who would not like it put that way. To them it is +"the sanctity of the marriage tie"; but the sanctity of the +marriage tie is dependent on the sanctity of the family, and the +sanctity of the family is dependent on the sanctity of property. +And yet I imagine all these people are followers of One who never +owned anything. It is curious! + +And again young Jolyon sighed. + +'Am I going on my way home to ask any poor devils I meet to share +my dinner, which will then be too little for myself, or, at all +events, for my wife, who is necessary to my health and happiness? +It may be that after all Soames does well to exercise his rights +and support by his practice the sacred principle of property +which benefits us all, with the exception of those who suffer by +the process.' + +And so he left his chair, threaded his way through the maze of +seats, took his hat, and languidly up the hot streets crowded +with carriages, reeking with dusty odours, wended his way home. + +Before reaching Wistaria Avenue he removed old Jolyon's letter +from his pocket, and tearing it carefully into tiny pieces, +scattered them in the dust of the road. + +He let himself in with his key, and called his wife's name. But +she had gone out, taking Jolly and Holly, and the house was +empty; alone in the garden the dog Balthasar lay in the shade +snapping at flies. + +Young Jolyon took his seat there, too, under the pear-tree that +bore no fruit. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BOSINNEY ON PAROLE + + +The day after the evening at Richmond Soames returned from Henley +by a morning train. Not constitutionally interested in +amphibious sports, his visit had been one of business rather than +pleasure, a client of some importance having asked him down. + +He went straight to the City, but finding things slack, he left +at three o'clock, glad of this chance to get home quietly. Irene +did not expect him. Not that he had any desire to spy on her +actions, but there was no harm in thus unexpectedly surveying the +scene. + +After changing to Park clothes he went into the drawing-room. +She was sitting idly in the corner of the sofa, her favourite +seat; and there were circles under her eyes, as though she had +not slept. + +He asked: "How is it you're in? Are you expecting somebody?" + +"Yes that is, not particularly." + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Bosinney said he might come." + +"Bosinney. He ought to be at work." + +To this she made no answer. + +"Well," said Soames, "I want you to come out to the Stores with +me, and after that we'll go to the Park." + +"I don't want to go out; I have a headache." + +Soames replied: "If ever I want you to do anything, you've always +got a headache. It'll do you good to come and sit under the +trees." + +She did not answer. + +Soames was silent for some minutes; at last he said: "I don't +know what your idea of a wife's duty is. I never have known!" + +He had not expected her to reply, but she did. + +"I have tried to do what you want; it's not my fault that I +haven't been able to put my heart into it." + +"Whose fault is it, then?" He watched her askance. + +"Before we were married you promised to let me go if our marriage +was not a success. Is it a success?" + +Soames frowned. + +"Success," he stammered--"it would be a success if you behaved +yourself properly!" + +"I have tried," said Irene. "Will you let me go?" + +Soames turned away. Secretly alarmed, he took refuge in bluster. + +"Let you go? You don't know what you're talking about. Let you +go? How can I let you go? We're married, aren't we? Then, what +are you talking about? For God's sake, don't let's have any of +this sort of nonsense! Get your hat on, and come and sit in the +Park." + +"Then, you won't let me go?" + +He felt her eyes resting on him with a strange, touching look. + +"Let you go!" he said; "and what on earth would you do with +yourself if I did? You've got no money!" + +"I could manage somehow." + +He took a swift turn up and down the room; then came and stood +before her. + +"Understand," he said, "once and for all, I won't have you say +this sort of thing. Go and get your hat on!" + +She did not move. + +"I suppose," said Soames, "you don't want to miss Bosinney if he +comes!" + +Irene got up slowly and left the room. She came down with her +hat on. + +They went out. + +In the Park, the motley hour of mid-afternoon, when foreigners +and other pathetic folk drive, thinking themselves to be in +fashion, had passed; the right, the proper, hour had come, was +nearly gone, before Soames and Irene seated themselves under the +Achilles statue. + +It was some time since he had enjoyed her company in the Park. +That was one of the past delights of the first two seasons of his +married life, when to feel himself the possessor of this gracious +creature before all London had been his greatest, though secret, +pride. How many afternoons had he not sat beside her, extremely +neat, with light grey gloves and faint, supercilious smile, +nodding to acquaintances, and now and again removing his hat. + +His light grey gloves were still on his hands, and on his lips +his smile sardonic, but where the feeling in his heart? + +The seats were emptying fast, but still he kept her there, silent +and pale, as though to work out a secret punishment. Once or +twice he made some comment, and she bent her head, or answered +"Yes" with a tired smile. + +Along the rails a man was walking so fast that people stared +after him when he passed. + +"Look at that ass!" said Soames; "he must be mad to walk like +that in this heat!" + +He turned; Irene had made a rapid movement. + +"Hallo!" he said: "it's our friend the Buccaneer!" + +And he sat still, with his sneering smile, conscious that Irene +was sitting still, and smiling too. + +"Will she bow to him?" he thought. + +But she made no sign. + +Bosinney reached the end of the rails, and came walking back +amongst the chairs, quartering his ground like a pointer. When +he saw them he stopped dead, and raised his hat. + +The smile never left Soames' face; he also took off his hat. + +Bosinney came up, looking exhausted, like a man after hard +physical exercise; the sweat stood in drops on his brow, and +Soames' smile seemed to say: "You've had a trying time, my friend +......What are you doing in the Park?" he asked. "We thought +you despised such frivolity!" + +Bosinney did not seem to hear; he made his answer to Irene: "I've +been round to your place; I hoped I should find you in." + +Somebody tapped Soames on the back, and spoke to him; and in the +exchange of those platitudes over his shoulder, he missed her +answer, and took a resolution. + +"We're just going in," he said to Bosinney; "you'd better come +back to dinner with us." Into that invitation he put a strange +bravado, a stranger pathos: "You, can't deceive me," his look and +voice seemed saying, "but see--I trust you--I'm not afraid of +you!" + +They started back to Montpellier Square together, Irene between +them. In the crowded streets Soames went on in front. He did +not listen to their conversation; the strange resolution of +trustfulness he had taken seemed to animate even his secret +conduct. Like a gambler, he said to himself: 'It's a card I dare +not throw away--I must play it for what it's worth. I have not +too many chances.' + +He dressed slowly, heard her leave her room and go downstairs, +and, for full five minutes after, dawdled about in his dressing- +room. Then he went down, purposely shutting the door loudly to +show that he was coming. He found them standing by the hearth, +perhaps talking, perhaps not; he could not say. + +He played his part out in the farce, the long evening through-- +his manner to his guest more friendly than it had ever been +before; and when at last Bosinney went, he said: "You must come +again soon; Irene likes to have you to talk about the house!" +Again his voice had the strange bravado and the stranger pathos; +but his hand was cold as ice. + +Loyal to his resolution, he turned away from their parting, +turned away from his wife as she stood under the hanging lamp to +say good-night--away from the sight of her golden head shining so +under the light, of her smiling mournful lips; away from the +sight of Bosinney's eyes looking at her, so like a dog's looking +at its master. + +And he went to bed with the certainty that Bosinney was in love +with his wife. + +The summer night was hot, so hot and still that through every +opened window came in but hotter air. For long hours he lay +listening to her breathing. + +She could sleep, but he must lie awake. And, lying awake, he +hardened himself to play the part of the serene and trusting +husband. + +In the small hours he slipped out of bed, and passing into his +dressing-room, leaned by the open window. + +He could hardly breathe. + +A night four years ago came back to him--the night but one before +his marriage; as hot and stifling as this. + +He remembered how he had lain in a long cane chair in the window +of his sitting-room off Victoria Street. Down below in a side +street a man had banged at a door, a woman had cried out; he +remembered, as though it were now, the sound of the scuffle, the +slam of the door, the dead silence that followed. And then the +early water-cart, cleansing the reek of the streets, had +approached through the strange-seeming, useless lamp-light; he +seemed to hear again its rumble, nearer and nearer, till it +passed and slowly died away. + +He leaned far out of the dressing-room window over the little +court below, and saw the first light spread. The outlines of +dark walls and roofs were blurred for a moment, then came out +sharper than before. + +He remembered how that other night he had watched the lamps +paling all the length of Victoria Street; how he had hurried on +his clothes and gone down into the street, down past houses and +squares, to the street where she was staying, and there had stood +and looked at the front of the little house, as still and grey as +the face of a dead man. + +And suddenly it shot through his mind; like a sick man's fancy: +What's he doing?--that fellow who haunts me, who was here this +evening, who's in love with my wife--prowling out there, perhaps, +looking for her as I know he was looking for her this afternoon; +watching my house now, for all I can tell! + +He stole across the landing to the front of the house, stealthily +drew aside a blind, and raised a window. + +The grey light clung about the trees of the square, as though +Night, like a great downy moth, had brushed them with her wings. +The lamps were still alight, all pale, but not a soul stirred--no +living thing in sight + +Yet suddenly, very faint, far off in the deathly stillness, he +heard a cry writhing, like the voice of some wandering soul +barred out of heaven, and crying for its happiness. There it was +again--again! Soames shut the window, shuddering. + +Then he thought: 'Ah! it's only the peacocks, across the water.' + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JUNE PAYS SOME CALLS + + + +Jolyon stood in the narrow hall at Broadstairs, inhaling that +odour of oilcloth and herrings which permeates all respectable +seaside lodging-houses. On a chair--a shiny leather chair, +displaying its horsehair through a hole in the top left-hand +corner--stood a black despatch case. This he was filling with +papers, with the Times, and a bottle of Eau-de Cologne. He had +meetings that day of the 'Globular Gold Concessions' and the 'New +Colliery Company, Limited,' to which he was going up, for he +never missed a Board; to 'miss a Board' would be one more piece +of evidence that he was growing old, and this his jealous Forsyte +spirit could not bear. + +His eyes, as he filled that black despatch case, looked as if at +any moment they might blaze up with anger. So gleams the eye of +a schoolboy, baited by a ring of his companions; but he controls +himself, deterred by the fearful odds against him. And old +Jolyon controlled himself, keeping down, with his masterful +restraint now slowly wearing out, the irritation fostered in him +by the conditions of his life. + +He had received from his son an unpractical letter, in which by +rambling generalities the boy seemed trying to get out of +answering a plain question. 'I've seen Bosinney,' he said; 'he +is not a criminal. The more I see of people the more I am +convinced that they are never good or bad--merely comic, or +pathetic. You probably don't agree with me!' + +Old Jolyon did not; he considered it cynical to so express +oneself; he had not yet reached that point of old age when even +Forsytes, bereft of those illusions and principles which they +have cherished carefully for practical purposes but never +believed in, bereft of all corporeal enjoyment, stricken to the +very heart by having nothing left to hope for--break through the +barriers of reserve and say things they would never have believed +themselves capable of saying. + +Perhaps he did not believe in 'goodness' and 'badness' any more +than his son; but as he would have said: He didn't know--couldn't +tell; there might be something in it; and why, by an unnecessary +expression of disbelief, deprive yourself of possible advantage? + +Accustomed to spend his holidays among the mountains, though +(like a true Forsyte) he had never attempted anything too +adventurous or too foolhardy, he had been passionately fond of +them. And when the wonderful view (mentioned in Baedeker-- +'fatiguing but repaying')--was disclosed to him after the effort +of the climb, he had doubtless felt the existence of some great, +dignified principle crowning the chaotic strivings, the petty +precipices, and ironic little dark chasms of life. This was as +near to religion, perhaps, as his practical spirit had ever gone. + +But it was many years since he had been to the mountains. He had +taken June there two seasons running, after his wife died, and +had realized bitterly that his walking days were over. + +To that old mountain--given confidence in a supreme order of +things he had long been a stranger. + +He knew himself to be old, yet he felt young; and this troubled +him. It troubled and puzzled him, too, to think that he, who had +always been so careful, should be father and grandfather to such +as seemed born to disaster. He had nothing to say against Jo-- +who could say anything against the boy, an amiable chap?--but his +position was deplorable, and this business of June's nearly as +bad. It seemed like a fatality, and a fatality was one of those +things no man of his character could either understand or put up +with. + +In writing to his son he did not really hope that anything would +come of it. Since the ball at Roger's he had seen too clearly +how the land lay--he could put two and two together quicker than +most men--and, with the example of his own son before his eyes, +knew better than any Forsyte of them all that the pale flame +singes men's wings whether they will or no. + +In the days before June's engagement, when she and Mrs. Soames +were always together, he had seen enough of Irene to feel the +spell she cast over men. She was not a flirt, not even a +coquette--words dear to the heart of his generation, which loved +to define things by a good, broad, inadequate word--but she was +dangerous. He could not say why. Tell him of a quality innate +in some women--a seductive power beyond their own control! He +would but answer: 'Humbug!' She was dangerous, and there was an +end of it. He wanted to close his eyes to that affair. If it +was, it was; he did not want to hear any more about it--he only +wanted to save June's position and her peace of mind. He still +hoped she might once more become a comfort to himself. + +And so he had written. He got little enough out of the answer. +As to what young Jolyon had made of the interview, there was +practically only the queer sentence: 'I gather that he's in the +stream.' The stream! What stream? What was this new-fangled way +of talking? + +He sighed, and folded the last of the papers under the flap of +the bag; he knew well enough what was meant. + +June came out of the dining-room, and helped him on with his +summer coat. From her costume, and the expression of her little +resolute face, he saw at once what was coming. + +"I'm going with you," she said. + +"Nonsense, my dear; I go straight into the City. I can't have +you racketting about!" + +"I must see old Mrs. Smeech." + +"Oh, your precious 'lame ducks!" grumbled out old Jolyon. He +did not believe her excuse, but ceased his opposition. There was +no doing anything with that pertinacity of hers. + +At Victoria he put her into the carriage which had been ordered +for himself--a characteristic action, for he had no petty +selfishnesses. + +"Now, don't you go tiring yourself, my darling," he said, and +took a cab on into the city. + +June went first to a back-street in Paddington, where Mrs. +Smeech, her 'lame duck,' lived--an aged person, connected with +the charring interest; but after half an hour spent in hearing +her habitually lamentable recital, and dragooning her into +temporary comfort, she went on to Stanhope Gate. The great house +was closed and dark. + +She had decided to learn something at all costs. It was better +to face the worst, and have it over. And this was her plan: To +go first to Phil's aunt, Mrs. Baynes, and, failing information +there, to Irene herself. She had no clear notion of what she +would gain by these visits. + +At three o'clock she was in Lowndes Square. With a woman's +instinct when trouble is to be faced, she had put on her best +frock, and went to the battle with a glance as courageous as old +Jolyon's itself. Her tremors had passed into eagerness. + +Mrs. Baynes, Bosinney's aunt (Louisa was her name), was in her +kitchen when June was announced, organizing the cook, for she was +an excellent housewife, and, as Baynes always said, there was 'a +lot in a good dinner.' He did his best work after dinner. It was +Baynes who built that remarkably fine row of tall crimson houses +in Kensington which compete with so many others for the title of +'the ugliest in London.' + +On hearing June's name, she went hurriedly to her bedroom, and, +taking two large bracelets from a red morocco case in a locked +drawer, put them on her white wrists--for she possessed in a +remarkable degree that 'sense of property,' which, as we know, is +the touchstone of Forsyteism, and the foundation of good +morality. + +Her figure, of medium height and broad build, with a tendency to +embonpoint, was reflected by the mirror of her whitewood +wardrobe, in a gown made under her own organization, of one of +those half-tints, reminiscent of the distempered walls of +corridors in large hotels. She raised her hands to her hair, +which she wore a la Princesse de Galles, and touched it here and +there, settling it more firmly on her head, and her eyes were +full of an unconscious realism, as though she were looking in the +face one of life's sordid facts, and making the best of it. In +youth her cheeks had been of cream and roses, but they were +mottled now by middle-age, and again that hard, ugly directness +came into her eyes as she dabbed a powder-puff across her +forehead. Putting the puff down, she stood quite still before +the glass, arranging a smile over her high, important nose, her, +chin, (never large, and now growing smaller with the increase of +her neck), her thin-lipped, down-drooping mouth. Quickly, not to +lose the effect, she grasped her skirts strongly in both hands, +and went downstairs. + +She had been hoping for this visit for some time past. Whispers +had reached her that things were not all right between her nephew +and his fiancee. Neither of them had been near her for weeks. +She had asked Phil to dinner many times; his invariable answer +had been 'Too busy.' + +Her instinct was alarmed, and the instinct in such matters of +this excellent woman was keen. She ought to have been a Forsyte; +in young Jolyon's sense of the word, she certainly had that +privilege, and merits description as such. + +She had married off her three daughters in a way that people said +was beyond their deserts, for they had the professional plainness +only to be found, as a rule, among the female kind of the more +legal callings. Her name was upon the committees of numberless +charities connected with the Church-dances, theatricals, or +bazaars--and she never lent her name unless sure beforehand that +everything had been thoroughly organized. + +She believed, as she often said, in putting things on a commercial +basis; the proper function of the Church, of charity, indeed, +of everything, was to strengthen the fabric of 'Society.' +Individual action, therefore, she considered immoral. +Organization was the only thing, for by organization alone could +you feel sure that you were getting a return for your money. +Organization--and again, organization! And there is no doubt +that she was what old Jolyon called her--"a 'dab' at that"--he +went further, he called her "a humbug." + +The enterprises to which she lent her name were organized so +admirably that by the time the takings were handed over, they +were indeed skim milk divested of all cream of human kindness. +But as she often justly remarked, sentiment was to be deprecated. +She was, in fact, a little academic. + +This great and good woman, so highly thought of in ecclesiastical +circles, was one of the principal priestesses in the temple of +Forsyteism, keeping alive day and night a sacred flame to the God +of Property, whose altar is inscribed with those inspiring words: +'Nothing for nothing, and really remarkably little for sixpence.' + +When she entered a room it was felt that something substantial +had come in, which was probably the reason of her popularity as a +patroness. People liked something substantial when they had paid +money for it; and they would look at her--surrounded by her staff +in charity ballrooms, with her high nose and her broad, square +figure, attired in an uniform covered with sequins--as though she +were a general. + +The only thing against her was that she had not a double name. +She was a power in upper middle-class society, with its hundred +sets and circles, all intersecting on the common battlefield of +charity functions, and on that battlefield brushing skirts so +pleasantly with the skirts of Society with the capital 'S.' She +was a power in society with the smaller 's,' that larger, more +significant, and more powerful body, where the commercially +Christian institutions, maxims, and 'principle,' which Mrs. +Baynes embodied, were real life-blood, circulating freely, real +business currency, not merely the sterilized imitation that +flowed in the veins of smaller Society with the larger 'S.' +People who knew her felt her to be sound--a sound woman, who +never gave herself away, nor anything else, if she could possibly +help it. + +She had been on the worst sort of terms with Bosinney's father, +who had not infrequently made her the object of an unpardonable +ridicule. She alluded to him now that he was gone as her 'poor, +dear, irreverend brother.' + +She greeted June with the careful effusion of which she was a +mistress, a little afraid of her as far as a woman of her +eminence in the commercial and Christian world could be afraid-- +for so slight a girl June had a great dignity, the fearlessness +of her eyes gave her that. And Mrs. Baynes, too, shrewdly +recognized that behind the uncompromising frankness of June's +manner there was much of the Forsyte. If the girl had been +merely frank and courageous, Mrs. Baynes would have thought her +'cranky,' and despised her; if she had been merely a Forsyte, +like Francie--let us say--she would have patronized her from +sheer weight of metal; but June, small though she was--Mrs. +Baynes habitually admired quantity--gave her an uneasy feeling; +and she placed her in a chair opposite the light. + +There was another reason for her respect which Mrs. Baynes, too +good a churchwoman to be worldly, would have been the last to +admit--she often heard her husband describe old Jolyon as +extremely well off, and was biassed towards his granddaughter for +the soundest of all reasons. To-day she felt the emotion with +which we read a novel describing a hero and an inheritance, +nervously anxious lest, by some frightful lapse of the novelist, +the young man should be left without it at the end. + +Her manner was warm; she had never seen so clearly before how +distinguished and desirable a girl this was. She asked after old +Jolyon's health. A wonderful man for his age; so upright, and +young looking, and how old was he? Eighty-one! She would never +have thought it! They were at the sea! Very nice for them; she +supposed June heard from Phil every day? Her light grey eyes +became more prominent as she asked this question; but the girl +met the glance without flinching. + +"No," she said, "he never writes!" + +Mrs. Baynes's eyes dropped; they had no intention of doing so, +but they did. They recovered immediately. + +"Of course not. That's Phil all over--he was always like that!" + +"Was he?" said June. + +The brevity of the answer caused Mrs. Baynes's bright smile a +moment's hesitation; she disguised it by a quick movement, and +spreading her skirts afresh, said: "Why, my dear--he's quite the +most harum-scarum person; one never pays the slightest attention +to what he does!" + +The conviction came suddenly to June that she was wasting her +time; even were she to put a question point-blank, she would +never get anything out of this woman. + +'Do you see him?' she asked, her face crimsoning. + +The perspiration broke out on Mrs. Baynes' forehead beneath the +powder. + +"Oh, yes! I don't remember when he was here last--indeed, we +haven't seen much of him lately. He's so busy with your cousin's +house; I'm told it'll be finished directly. We must organize a +little dinner to celebrate the event; do come and stay the night +with us!" + +"Thank you," said June. Again she thought: 'I'm only wasting my +time. This woman will tell me nothing.' + +She got up to go. A change came over Mrs. Baynes. She rose too; +her lips twitched, she fidgeted her hands. Something was +evidently very wrong, and she did not dare to ask this girl, who +stood there, a slim, straight little figure, with her decided +face, her set jaw, and resentful eyes. She was not accustomed to +be afraid of asking question's--all organization was based on +the asking of questions! + +But the issue was so grave that her nerve, normally strong, was +fairly shaken; only that morning her husband had said: "Old Mr. +Forsyte must be worth well over a hundred thousand pounds!" + +And this girl stood there, holding out her hand--holding out her +hand! + +The chance might be slipping away--she couldn't tell--the chance +of keeping her in the family, and yet she dared not speak. + +Her eyes followed June to the door. + +It closed. + +Then with an exclamation Mrs. Baynes ran forward, wobbling her +bulky frame from side to side, and opened it again. + +Too late! She heard the front door click, and stood still, an +expression of real anger and mortification on her face. + +June went along the Square with her bird-like quickness. She +detested that woman now whom in happier days she had been +accustomed to think so kind. Was she always to be put off thus, +and forced to undergo this torturing suspense? + +She would go to Phil himself, and ask him what he meant. She had +the right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she +came to Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, +she ran up the stairs, her heart thumping painfully. + +At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding +on to the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above. + +With a very white face she mounted the last flight. She saw the +door, with his name on the plate. And the resolution that had +brought her so far evaporated. + +The full meaning of her conduct came to her. She felt hot all +over; the palms of her hands were moist beneath the thin silk +covering of her gloves. + +She drew back to the stairs, but did not descend. Leaning +against the rail she tried to get rid of a feeling of being +choked; and she gazed at the door with a sort of dreadful +courage. No! she refused to go down. Did it matter what people +thought of her? They would never know! No one would help her if +she did not help herself! She would go through with it. + +Forcing herself, therefore, to leave the support of the wall, she +rang the bell. The door did not open, and all her shame and fear +suddenly abandoned her; she rang again and again, as though in +spite of its emptiness she could drag some response out of that +closed room, some recompense for the shame and fear that visit +had cost her. It did not open; she left off ringing, and, +sitting down at the top of the stairs, buried her face in her +hands. + +Presently she stole down, out into the air. She felt as though +she had passed through a bad illness, and had no desire now but +to get home as quickly as she could. The people she met seemed +to know where she had been, what she had been doing; and +suddenly--over on the opposite side, going towards his rooms from +the direction of Montpellier Square--she saw Bosinney himself. + +She made a movement to cross into the traffic. Their eyes met, +and he raised his hat. An omnibus passed, obscuring her view; +then, from the edge of the pavement, through a gap in the +traffic, she saw him walking on. + +And June stood motionless, looking after him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PERFECTION OF THE HOUSE + + +'One mockturtle, clear; one oxtail; two glasses of port.' + +In the upper room at French's, where a Forsyte could still get +heavy English food, James and his son were sitting down to lunch. + +Of all eating-places James liked best to come here; there was +something unpretentious, well-flavoured, and filling about it, +and though he had been to a certain extent corrupted by the +necessity for being fashionable, and the trend of habits keeping +pace with an income that would increase, he still hankered in +quiet City moments after the tasty fleshpots of his earlier days. +Here you were served by hairy English waiters in aprons; there +was sawdust on the floor, and three round gilt looking-glasses +hung just above the line of sight. They had only recently done +away with the cubicles, too, in which you could have your chop, +prime chump, with a floury-potato, without seeing your +neighbours, like a gentleman. + +He tucked the top corner of his napkin behind the third button of +his waistcoat, a practice he had been obliged to abandon years +ago in the West End. He felt that he should relish his soup--the +entire morning had been given to winding up the estate of an old +friend. + +After filling his mouth with household bread, stale, he at once +began: "How are you going down to Robin Hill? You going to take +Irene? You'd better take her. I should think there'll be a lot +that'll want seeing to." + +Without looking up, Soames answered: "She won't go." + +"Won't go? What's the meaning of that? She's going to live in +the house, isn't she?" + +Soames made no reply. + +"I don't know what's coming to women nowadays," mumbled James; "I +never used to have any trouble with them. She's had too much +liberty. She's spoiled...." + +Soames lifted his eyes: "I won't have anything said against her," +he said unexpectedly. + +The silence was only broken now by the supping of James's soup. + +The waiter brought the two glasses of port, but Soames stopped +him. + +"That's not the way to serve port," he said; "take them away, and +bring the bottle." + +Rousing himself from his reverie over the soup, James took one of +his rapid shifting surveys of surrounding facts. + +"Your mother's in bed," he said; "you can have the carriage to +take you down. I should think Irene'd like the drive. This +young Bosinney'll be there, I suppose, to show you over" + +Soames nodded. + +"I should like to go and see for myself what sort of a job he's +made finishing off," pursued James. "I'll just drive round and +pick you both up." + +"I am going down by train," replied Soames. "If you like to +drive round and see, Irene might go with you, I can't tell." + +He signed to the waiter to bring the bill, which James paid. + +They parted at St. Paul's, Soames branching off to the station, +James taking his omnibus westwards. + +He had secured the corner seat next the conductor, where his long +legs made it difficult for anyone to get in, and at all who +passed him he looked resentfully, as if they had no business to +be using up his air. + +He intended to take an opportunity this afternoon of speaking to +Irene. A word in time saved nine; and now that she was going to +live in the country there was a chance for her to turn over a new +leaf! He could see that Soames wouldn't stand very much more of +her goings on! + +It did not occur to him to define what he meant by her 'goings +on'; the expression was wide, vague, and suited to a Forsyte. +And James had more than his common share of courage after lunch. + +On reaching home, he ordered out the barouche, with special +instructions that the groom was to go too. He wished to be kind +to her, and to give her every chance. + +When the door of No.62 was opened he could distinctly hear her +singing, and said so at once, to prevent any chance of being +denied entrance. + +Yes, Mrs. Soames was in, but the maid did not know if she was +seeing people. + +James, moving with the rapidity that ever astonished the +observers of his long figure and absorbed expression, went +forthwith into the drawing-room without permitting this to be +ascertained. He found Irene seated at the piano with her hands +arrested on the keys, evidently listening to the voices in the +hall. She greeted him without smiling. + +"Your mother-in-law's in bed," he began, hoping at once to enlist +her sympathy. "I've got the carriage here. Now, be a good girl, +and put on your hat and come with me for a drive. It'll do you +good!" + +Irene looked at him as though about to refuse, but, seeming to +change her mind, went upstairs, and came down again with her hat +on. + +"Where are you going to take me?" she asked. + +"We'll just go down to Robin Hill," said James, spluttering out +his words very quick; "the horses want exercise, and I should +like to see what they've been doing down there." + +Irene hung back, but again changed her mind, and went out to the +carriage, James brooding over her closely, to make quite sure. + +It was not before he had got her more than half way that he +began: "Soames is very fond of you--he won't have anything said +against you; why don't you show him more affection?" + +Irene flushed, and said in a low voice: "I can't show what I +haven't got." + +James looked at her sharply; he felt that now he had her in his +own carriage, with his own horses and servants, he was really in +command of the situation. She could not put him off; nor would +she make a scene in public. + +"I can't think what you're about," he said. "He's a very good +husband!" + +Irene's answer was so low as to be almost inaudible among the +sounds of traffic. He caught the words: "You are not married to +him!" + +"What's that got to do with it? He's given you everything you +want. He's always ready to take you anywhere, and now he's built +you this house in the country. It's not as if you had anything +of your own." + +"No." + +Again James looked at her; he could not make out the expression +on her face. She looked almost as if she were going to cry, and +yet.... + +"I'm sure," he muttered hastily, "we've all tried to be kind to +you." + +Irene's lips quivered; to his dismay James saw a tear steal down +her cheek. He felt a choke rise in his own throat. + +"We're all fond of you," he said, "if you'd only"--he was going +to say, "behave yourself," but changed it to--"if you'd only be +more of a wife to him." + +Irene did not answer, and James, too, ceased speaking. There was +something in her silence which disconcerted him; it was not the +silence of obstinacy, rather that of acquiescence in all that he +could find to say. And yet he felt as if he had not had the last +word. He could not understand this. + +He was unable, however, to long keep silence. + +"I suppose that young Bosinney," he said, "will be getting +married to June now?" + +Irene's face changed. "I don't know," she said; "you should ask +her." + +"Does she write to you?" No. + +"How's that?" said James. "I thought you and she were such great +friends." + +Irene turned on him. "Again," she said, "you should ask her!" + +"Well," flustered James, frightened by her look, "it's very odd +that I can't get a plain answer to a plain question, but there it +is." + +He sat ruminating over his rebuff, and burst out at last: + +"Well, I've warned you. You won't look ahead. Soames he doesn't +say much, but I can see he won't stand a great deal more of this +sort of thing. You'll have nobody but yourself to blame, and, +what's more, you'll get no sympathy from anybody." + +Irene bent her head with a little smiling bow. "I am very much +obliged to you." + +James did not know what on earth to answer. + +The bright hot morning had changed slowly to a grey, oppressive +afternoon; a heavy bank of clouds, with the yellow tinge of +coming thunder, had risen in the south, and was creeping up. + +The branches of the trees dropped motionless across the road +without the smallest stir of foliage. A faint odour of glue from +the heated horses clung in the thick air; the coachman and groom, +rigid and unbending, exchanged stealthy murmurs on the box, +without ever turning their heads. + +To James' great relief they reached the house at last; the +silence and impenetrability of this woman by his side, whom he +had always thought so soft and mild, alarmed him. + +The carriage put them down at the door, and they entered. + +The hall was cool, and so still that it was like passing into a +tomb; a shudder ran down James's spine. He quickly lifted the +heavy leather curtains between the columns into the inner court. + +He could not restrain an exclamation of approval. + +The decoration was really in excellent taste. The dull ruby +tiles that extended from the foot of the walls to the verge of a +circular clump of tall iris plants, surrounding in turn a sunken +basin of white marble filled with water, were obviously of the +best quality. He admired extremely the purple leather curtains +drawn along one entire side, framing a huge white-tiled stove. +The central partitions of the skylight had been slid back, and +the warm air from outside penetrated into the very heart of the +house. + +He stood, his hands behind him, his head bent back on his high, +narrow shoulders, spying the tracery on the columns and the +pattern of the frieze which ran round the ivory-coloured walls +under the gallery. Evidently, no pains had been spared. It was +quite the house of a gentleman. He went up to the curtains, and, +having discovered how they were worked, drew them asunder and +disclosed the picture-gallery, ending in a great window taking up +the whole end of the room. It had a black oak floor, and its +walls, again, were of ivory white. He went on throwing open +doors, and peeping in. Everything was in apple-pie order, ready +for immediate occupation. + +He turned round at last to speak to Irene, and saw her standing +over in the garden entrance, with her husband and Bosinney. + +Though not remarkable for sensibility, James felt at once that +something was wrong. He went up to them, and, vaguely alarmed, +ignorant of the nature of the trouble, made an attempt to smooth +things over. + +"How are you, Mr. Bosinney?" he said, holding out his hand. +"You've been spending money pretty freely down here, I should +say!" + +Soames turned his back, and walked away. + +James looked from Bosinney's frowning face to Irene, and, in his +agitation, spoke his thoughts aloud: "Well, I can't tell what's +the matter. Nobody tells me anything!" And, making off after his +son, he heard Bosinney's short laugh, and his "Well, thank God! +You look so...." Most unfortunately he lost the rest. + +What had happened? He glanced back. Irene was very close to the +architect, and her face not like the face he knew of her. He +hastened up to his son. + +Soames was pacing the picture-gallery. + +"What's the matter?" said James. "What's all this?" + +Soames looked at him with his supercilious calm unbroken, but +James knew well enough that he was violently angry. + +"Our friend," he said, "has exceeded his instructions again, +that's all. So much the worse for him this time." + +He turned round and walked back towards the door. James followed +hurriedly, edging himself in front. He saw Irene take her finger +from before her lips, heard her say something in her ordinary +voice, and began to speak before he reached them. + +"There's a storm coming on. We'd better get home. We can't take +you, I suppose, Mr. Bosinney? No, I suppose not. Then, +good-bye!" He held out his hand. Bosinney did not take it, but, +turning with a laugh, said: + +"Good-bye, Mr. Forsyte. Don't get caught in the storm!" and +walked away. + +"Well," began James, "I don't know...." + +But the 'sight of Irene's face stopped him. Taking hold of his +daughter-in-law by the elbow, he escorted her towards the +carriage. He felt certain, quite certain, they had been making +some appointment or other.... + +Nothing in this world is more sure to upset a Forsyte than the +discovery that something on which he has stipulated to spend a +certain sum has cost more. And this is reasonable, for upon the +accuracy of his estimates the whole policy of his life is +ordered. If he cannot rely on definite values of property, his +compass is amiss; he is adrift upon bitter waters without a helm. + +After writing to Bosinney in the terms that have already been +chronicled, Soames had dismissed the cost of the house from his +mind. He believed that he had made the matter of the final cost +so very plain that the possibility of its being again exceeded +had really never entered his head. On hearing from Bosinney that +his limit of twelve thousand pounds would be exceeded by some- +thing like four hundred, he had grown white with anger. His +original estimate of the cost of the house completed had been ten +thousand pounds, and he had often blamed himself severely for +allowing himself to be led into repeated excesses. Over this +last expenditure, however, Bosinney had put himself completely in +the wrong. How on earth a fellow could make such an ass of +himself Soames could not conceive; but he had done so, and all +the rancour and hidden jealousy that had been burning against him +for so long was now focussed in rage at this crowning piece of +extravagance. The attitude of the confident and friendly husband +was gone. To preserve property--his wife--he had assumed it, to +preserve property of another kind he lost it now. + +"Ah!" he had said to Bosinney when he could speak, "and I suppose +you're perfectly contented with yourself. But I may as well tell +you that you've altogether mistaken your man!" + +What he meant by those words he did not quite know at the time, +but after dinner he looked up the correspondence between himself +and Bosinney to make quite sure. There could be no two opinions +about it--the fellow had made himself liable for that extra four +hundred, or, at all events, for three hundred and fifty of it, +and he would have to make it good. + +He was looking at his wife's face when he came to this conclusion. +Seated in her usual seat on the sofa, she was altering the lace +on a collar. She had not once spoken to him all the evening. + +He went up to the mantelpiece, and contemplating his face in the +mirror said: "Your friend the Buccaneer has made a fool of +himself; he will have to pay for it!" + +She looked at him scornfully, and answered: "I don't know what +you are talking about!" + +"You soon will. A mere trifle, quite beneath your contempt--four +hundred pounds." + +"Do you mean that you are going to make him pay that towards this +hateful, house?" + +"I do." + +"And you know he's got nothing?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you are meaner than I thought you." + +Soames turned from the mirror, and unconsciously taking a china +cup from the mantelpiece, clasped his hands around it as though +praying. He saw her bosom rise and fall, her eyes darkening with +anger, and taking no notice of the taunt, he asked quietly: + +"Are you carrying on a flirtation with Bosinney?" + +"No, I am not!" + +Her eyes met his, and he looked away. He neither believed nor +disbelieved her, but he knew that he had made a mistake in +asking; he never had known, never would know, what she was +thinking. The sight of her inscrutable face, the thought of all +the hundreds of evenings he had seen her sitting there like that +soft and passive, but unreadable, unknown, enraged him beyond +measure. + +"I believe you are made of stone," he said, clenching his fingers +so hard that he broke the fragile cup. The pieces fell into the +grate. And Irene smiled. + +"You seem to forget," she said, "that cup is not!" + +Soames gripped her arm. "A good beating," he said, "is the only +thing that would bring you to your senses," but turning on his +heel, he left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SOAMES SITS ON THE STAIRS + + +Soames went upstairs that night that he had gone too far. He was +prepared to offer excuses for his words. + +He turned out the gas still burning in the passage outside their +room. Pausing, with his hand on the knob of the door, he tried +to shape his apology, for he had no intention of letting her see +that he was nervous. + +But the door did not open, nor when he pulled it and turned the +handle firmly. She must have locked it for some reason, and +forgotten. + +Entering his dressing-room where the gas was also light and +burning low, he went quickly to the other door. That too was +locked. Then he noticed that the camp bed which he occasionally +used was prepared, and his sleeping-suit laid out upon it. He +put his hand up to his forehead, and brought it away wet. It +dawned on him that he was barred out. + +He went back to the door, and rattling the handle stealthily, +called: "Unlock the door, do you hear? Unlock the door!" + +There was a faint rustling, but no answer. + +"Do you hear? Let me in at once--I insist on being let in!" + +He could catch the sound of her breathing close to the door, like +the breathing of a creature threatened by danger. + +There was something terrifying in this inexorable silence, in the +impossibility of getting at her. He went back to the other door, +and putting his whole weight against it, tried to burst it open. +The door was a new one--he had had them renewed himself, in +readiness for their coming in after the honeymoon. In a rage he +lifted his foot to kick in the panel; the thought of the servants +restrained him, and he felt suddenly that he was beaten. + +Flinging himself down in the dressing-room, he took up a book. + +But instead of the print he seemed to see his wife--with her +yellow hair flowing over her bare shoulders, and her great dark +eyes--standing like an animal at bay. And the whole meaning of +her act of revolt came to him. She meant it to be for good. + +He could not sit still, and went to the door again. He could +still hear her, and he called: "Irene! Irene!" + +He did not mean to make his voice pathetic. + +In ominous answer, the faint sounds ceased. He stood with +clenched hands, thinking. + +Presently he stole round on tiptoe, and running suddenly at the +other door, made a supreme effort to break it open. It creaked, +but did not yield. He sat down on the stairs and buried his face +in his hands. + +For a long time he sat there in the dark, the moon through the +skylight above laying a pale smear which lengthened slowly +towards him down the stairway. He tried to be philosophical. + +Since she had locked her doors she had no further claim as a +wife, and he would console himself with other women. + +It was but a spectral journey he made among such delights--he had +no appetite for these exploits. He had never had much, and he +had lost the habit. He felt that he could never recover it. His +hunger could only be appeased by his wife, inexorable and +frightened, behind these shut doors. No other woman could help +him. + +This conviction came to him with terrible force out there in the +dark. + +His philosophy left him; and surly anger took its place. Her +conduct was immoral, inexcusable, worthy of any punishment within +his power. He desired no one but her, and she refused him! + +She must really hate him, then! He had never believed it yet. +He did not believe it now. It seemed to him incredible. He felt +as though he had lost for ever his power of judgment. If she, so +soft and yielding as he had always judged her, could take this +decided step--what could not happen? + +Then he asked himself again if she were carrying on an intrigue +with Bosinney. He did not believe that she was; he could not +afford to believe such a reason for her conduct--the thought was +not to be faced. + +It would be unbearable to contemplate the necessity of making his +marital relations public property. Short of the most convincing +proofs he must still refuse to believe, for he did not wish to +punish himself. And all the time at heart--he did believe. + +The moonlight cast a greyish tinge over his figure, hunched +against the staircase wall. + +Bosinney was in love with her! He hated the fellow, and would +not spare him now. He could and would refuse to pay a penny +piece over twelve thousand and fifty pounds--the extreme limit +fixed in the correspondence; or rather he would pay, he would pay +and sue him for damages. He would go to Jobling and Boulter and +put the matter in their hands. He would ruin the impecunious +beggar! And suddenly--though what connection between the +thoughts?--he reflected that Irene had no money either. They +were both beggars. This gave him a strange satisfaction. + +The silence was broken by a faint creaking through the wall. She +was going to bed at last. Ah! Joy and pleasant dreams! If she +threw the door open wide he would not go in now! + +But his lips, that were twisted in a bitter smile, twitched; he +covered his eyes with his hands.... + +It was late the following afternoon when Soames stood in the +dining-room window gazing gloomily into the Square. + +The sunlight still showered on the plane-trees, and in the breeze +their gay broad leaves shone and swung in rhyme to a barrel organ +at the corner. It was playing a waltz, an old waltz that was out +of fashion, with a fateful rhythm in the notes; and it went on +and on, though nothing indeed but leaves danced to the tune. + +The woman did not look too gay, for she was tired; and from the +tall houses no one threw her down coppers. She moved the organ +on, and three doors off began again. + +It was the waltz they had played at Roger's when Irene had danced +with Bosinney; and the perfume of the gardenias she had worn came +back to Soames, drifted by the malicious music, as it had been +drifted to him then, when she passed, her hair glistening, her +eyes so soft, drawing Bosinney on and on down an endless +ballroom. + +The organ woman plied her handle slowly; she had been grinding +her tune all day-grinding it in Sloane Street hard by, grinding +it perhaps to Bosinney himself. + +Soames turned, took a cigarette from the carven box, and walked +back to the window. The tune had mesmerized him, and there came +into his view Irene, her sunshade furled, hastening homewards +down the Square, in a soft, rose-coloured blouse with drooping +sleeves, that he did not know. She stopped before the organ, +took out her purse, and gave the woman money. + +Soames shrank back and stood where he could see into the hall. + +She came in with her latch-key, put down her sunshade, and stood +looking at herself in the glass. Her cheeks were flushed as if +the sun had burned them; her lips were parted in a smile. She +stretched her arms out as though to embrace herself, with a laugh +that for all the world was like a sob. + +Soames stepped forward. + +"Very-pretty!" he said. + +But as though shot she spun round, and would have passed him up +the stairs. He barred the way. + +"Why such a hurry?" he said, and his eyes fastened on a curl of +hair fallen loose across her ear.... + +He hardly recognised her. She seemed on fire, so deep and rich +the colour of her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, and of the unusual +blouse she wore. + +She put up her hand and smoothed back the curl. She was +breathing fast and deep, as though she had been running, and with +every breath perfume seemed to come from her hair, and from her +body, like perfume from an opening flower. + +"I don't like that blouse," he said slowly, "it's a soft, +shapeless thing!" + +He lifted his finger towards her breast, but she dashed his hand +aside. + +"Don't touch me!" she cried. + +He caught her wrist; she wrenched it away. + +"And where may you have been?" he asked. + +"In heaven--out of this house!" With those words she fled +upstairs. + +Outside--in thanksgiving--at the very door, the organ-grinder was +playing the waltz. + +And Soames stood motionless. What prevented him from following +her? + +Was it that, with the eyes of faith, he saw Bosinney looking down +from that high window in Sloane Street, straining his eyes for +yet another glimpse of Irene's vanished figure, cooling his +flushed face, dreaming of the moment when she flung herself on +his breast--the scent of her still in the air around, and the +sound of her laugh that was like a sob? + + + + + +PART III + + +CHAPTER I + +Mrs. MAcANDER'S EVIDENCE + + +Many people, no doubt, including the editor of the 'Ultra +Vivisectionist,' then in the bloom of its first youth, would say +that Soames was less than a man not to have removed the locks +from his wife's doors, and, after beating her soundly, resumed +wedded happiness. + +Brutality is not so deplorably diluted by humaneness as it used +to be, yet a sentimental segment of the population may still be +relieved to learn that he did none of these things. For active +brutality is not popular with Forsytes; they are too +circumspect, and, on the whole, too softhearted. And in Soames +there was some common pride, not sufficient to make him do a +really generous action, but enough to prevent his indulging in an +extremely mean one, except, perhaps, in very hot blood. Above +all this a true Forsyte refused to feel himself ridiculous. Short +of actually beating his wife, he perceived nothing to be done; he +therefore accepted the situation without another word. + +Throughout the summer and autumn he continued to go to the +office, to sort his pictures, and ask his friends to dinner. + +He did not leave town; Irene refused to go away. The house at +Robin Hill, finished though it was, remained empty and ownerless. +Soames had brought a suit against the Buccaneer, in which he +claimed from him the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds. + +A firm of solicitors, Messrs. Freak and Able, had put in a +defence on Bosinney's behalf. Admitting the facts, they raised a +point on the correspondence which, divested of legal phraseology, +amounted to this: To speak of 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence' is an Irish bull. + +By a chance, fortuitous but not improbable in the close borough +of legal circles, a good deal of information came to Soames' ear +anent this line of policy, the working partner in his firm, +Bustard, happening to sit next at dinner at Walmisley's, the +Taxing Master, to young Chankery, of the Common Law Bar. + +The necessity for talking what is known as 'shop,' which comes on +all lawyers with the removal of the ladies, caused Chankery, a +young and promising advocate, to propound an impersonal conundrum +to his neighbour, whose name he did not know, for, seated as he +permanently was in the background, Bustard had practically no +name. + +He had, said Chankery, a case coming on with a 'very nice point.' +He then explained, preserving every professional discretion, the +riddle in Soames' case. Everyone, he said, to whom he had +spoken, thought it a nice point. The issue was small +unfortunately, 'though d----d serious for his client he +believed'--Walmisley's champagne was bad but plentiful. A Judge +would make short work of it, he was afraid. He intended to make +a big effort--the point was a nice one. What did his neighbour +say? + +Bustard, a model of secrecy, said nothing. He related the +incident to Soames however with some malice, for this quiet man +was capable of human feeling, ending with his own opinion that +the point was 'a very nice one.' + +In accordance with his resolve, our Forsyte had put his interests +into the hands of Jobling and Boulter. From the moment of doing +so he regretted that he had not acted for himself. On receiving +a copy of Bosinney's defence he went over to their offices. + +Boulter, who had the matter in hand, Jobling having died some +years before, told him that in his opinion it was rather a nice +point; he would like counsel's opinion on it. + +Soames told him to go to a good man, and they went to Waterbuck, +Q.C., marking him ten and one, who kept the papers six weeks and +then wrote as follows + +'In my opinion the true interpretation of this correspondence +depends very much on the intention of the parties, and will turn +upon the evidence given at the trial. I am of opinion that an +attempt should be made to secure from the architect an admission +that he understood he was not to spend at the outside more than +twelve thousand and fifty pounds. With regard to the expression, +"a free hand in the terms of this correspondence," to which my +attention is directed, the point is a nice one; but I am of +opinion that upon the whole the ruling in "Boileau v. The +Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.," will apply.' + +Upon this opinion they acted, administering interrogatories, but +to their annoyance Messrs. Freak and Able answered these in so +masterly a fashion that nothing whatever was admitted and that +without prejudice. + +It was on October 1 that Soames read Waterbuck's opinion, in the +dining-room before dinner. + +It made him nervous; not so much because of the case of 'Boileau +v. The Blasted Cement Co., Ltd.,' as that the point had lately +begun to seem to him, too, a nice one; there was about it just +that pleasant flavour of subtlety so attractive to the best legal +appetites. To have his own impression confirmed by Waterbuck, +Q.C., would have disturbed any man. + +He sat thinking it over, and staring at the empty grate, for +though autumn had come, the weather kept as gloriously fine that +jubilee year as if it were still high August. It was not +pleasant to be disturbed; he desired too passionately to set his +foot on Bosinney's neck. + +Though he had not seen the architect since the last afternoon at +Robin Hill, he was never free from the sense of his presence-- +never free from the memory of his worn face with its high cheek +bones and enthusiastic eyes. It would not be too much to say +that he had never got rid of the feeling of that night when he +heard the peacock's cry at dawn--the feeling that Bosinney +haunted the house. And every man's shape that he saw in the dark +evenings walking past, seemed that of him whom George had so +appropriately named the Buccaneer. + +Irene still met him, he was certain; where, or how, he neither +knew, nor asked; deterred by a vague and secret dread of too much +knowledge. It all seemed subterranean nowadays. + +Sometimes when he questioned his wife as to where she had been, +which he still made a point of doing, as every Forsyte should, +she looked very strange. Her self-possession was wonderful, but +there were moments when, behind the mask of her face, inscrutable +as it had always been to him, lurked an expression he had never +been used to see there. + +She had taken to lunching out too; when he asked Bilson if her +mistress had been in to lunch, as often as not she would answer: +"No, sir." + +He strongly disapproved of her gadding about by herself, and told +her so. But she took no notice. There was something that +angered, amazed, yet almost amused him about the calm way in +which she disregarded his wishes. It was really as if she were +hugging to herself the thought of a triumph over him. + +He rose from the perusal of Waterbuck, Q.C.'s opinion, and, going +upstairs, entered her room, for she did not lock her doors till +bed-time--she had the decency, he found, to save the feelings of +the servants. She was brushing her hair, and turned to him with +strange fierceness. + +"What do you want?" she said. "Please leave my room!" + +He answered: "I want to know how long this state of things +between us is to last? I have put up with it long enough." + +"Will you please leave my room?" + +"Will you treat me as your husband?" + +"No." + +"Then, I shall take steps to make you." + +"Do!" + +He stared, amazed at the calmness of her answer. Her lips were +compressed in a thin line; her hair lay in fluffy masses on her +bare shoulders, in all its strange golden contrast to her dark +eyes--those eyes alive with the emotions of fear, hate, contempt, +and odd, haunting triumph. + +"Now, please, will you leave my room?" He turned round, and went +sulkily out. + +He knew very well that he had no intention of taking steps, and +he saw that she knew too--knew that he was afraid to. + +It was a habit with him to tell her the doings of his day: how +such and such clients had called; how he had arranged a mortgage +for Parkes; how that long-standing suit of Fryer v. Forsyte was +getting on, which, arising in the preternaturally careful +disposition of his property by his great uncle Nicholas, who had +tied it up so that no one could get at it at all, seemed likely +to remain a source of income for several solicitors till the Day +of Judgment. + +And how he had called in at Jobson's, and seen a Boucher sold, +which he had just missed buying of Talleyrand and Sons in Pall +Mall. + +He had an admiration for Boucher, Watteau, and all that school. +It was a habit with him to tell her all these matters, and he +continued to do it even now, talking for long spells at dinner, +as though by the volubility of words he could conceal from +himself the ache in his heart. + +Often, if they were alone, he made an attempt to kiss her when +she said good-night. He may have had some vague notion that some +night she would let him; or perhaps only the feeling that a +husband ought to kiss his wife. Even if she hated him, he at all +events ought not to put himself in the wrong by neglecting this +ancient rite. + +And why did she hate him? Even now he could not altogether +believe it. It was strange to be hated!--the emotion was too +extreme; yet he hated Bosinney, that Buccaneer, that prowling +vagabond, that night-wanderer. For in his thoughts Soames always +saw him lying in wait--wandering. Ah, but he must be in very low +water! Young Burkitt, the architect, had seen him coming out of +a third-rate restaurant, looking terribly down in the mouth! + +During all the hours he lay awake, thinking over the situation, +which seemed to have no end--unless she should suddenly come to +her senses--never once did the thought of separating from his +wife seriously enter his head.... + +And the Forsytes! What part did they play in this stage of +Soames' subterranean tragedy? + +Truth to say, little or none, for they were at the sea. + +From hotels, hydropathics, or lodging-houses, they were bathing +daily; laying in a stock of ozone to last them through the +winter. + +Each section, in the vineyard of its own choosing, grew and +culled and pressed and bottled the grapes of a pet sea-air. + +The end of September began to witness their several returns. + +In rude health and small omnibuses, with considerable colour in +their cheeks, they arrived daily from the various termini. The +following morning saw them back at their vocations. + +On the next Sunday Timothy's was thronged from lunch till dinner. + +Amongst other gossip, too numerous and interesting to relate, +Mrs. Septimus Small mentioned that Soames and Irene had not been +away. + +It remained for a comparative outsider to supply the next +evidence of interest. + +It chanced that one afternoon late in September, Mrs. MacAnder, +Winifred Dartie's greatest friend, taking a constitutional, with +young Augustus Flippard, on her bicycle in Richmond Park, passed +Irene and Bosinney walking from the bracken towards the Sheen +Gate. + +Perhaps the poor little woman was thirsty, for she had ridden +long on a hard, dry road, and, as all London knows, to ride a +bicycle and talk to young Flippard will try the toughest +constitution; or perhaps the sight of the cool bracken grove, +whence 'those two' were coming down, excited her envy. The cool +bracken grove on the top of the hill, with the oak boughs for +roof, where the pigeons were raising an endless wedding hymn, and +the autumn, humming, whispered to the ears of lovers in the fern, +while the deer stole by. The bracken grove of irretrievable +delights, of golden minutes in the long marriage of heaven and +earth! The bracken grove, sacred to stags, to strange tree-stump +fauns leaping around the silver whiteness of a birch-tree nymph +at summer dusk + +This lady knew all the Forsytes, and having been at June's 'at +home,' was not at a loss to see with whom she had to deal. Her +own marriage, poor thing, had not been successful, but having +had the good sense and ability to force her husband into +pronounced error, she herself had passed through the necessary +divorce proceedings without incurring censure. + +She was therefore a judge of all that sort of thing, and lived in +one of those large buildings, where in small sets of apartments, +are gathered incredible quantities of Forsytes, whose chief +recreation out of business hours is the discussion of each +other's affairs. + +Poor little woman, perhaps she was thirsty, certainly she was +bored, for Flippard was a wit. To see 'those two' in so unlikely +a spot was quite a merciful 'pick-me-up.' + +At the MacAnder, like all London, Time pauses. + +This small but remarkable woman merits attention; her all-seeing +eye and shrewd tongue were inscrutably the means of furthering +the ends of Providence. + +With an air of being in at the death, she had an almost +distressing power of taking care of herself. She had done more, +perhaps, in her way than any woman about town to destroy the +sense of chivalry which still clogs the wheel of civilization. +So smart she was, and spoken of endearingly as 'the little +MacAnder!' + +Dressing tightly and well, she belonged to a Woman's Club, but +was by no means the neurotic and dismal type of member who was +always thinking of her rights. She took her rights unconsciously, +they came natural to her, and she knew exactly how to make the +most of them without exciting anything but admiration amongst +that great class to whom she was affiliated, not precisely +perhaps by manner, but by birth, breeding, and the true, the +secret gauge, a sense of property. + +The daughter of a Bedfordshire solicitor, by the daughter of a +clergyman, she had never, through all the painful experience of +being married to a very mild painter with a cranky love of +Nature, who had deserted her for an actress, lost touch with the +requirements, beliefs, and inner feeling of Society; and, on +attaining her liberty, she placed herself without effort in the +very van of Forsyteism. + +Always in good spirits, and 'full of information,' she was +universally welcomed. She excited neither surprise nor +disapprobation when encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, +either alone, or travelling with a lady and two gentlemen; it was +felt that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself; +and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that wonderful instinct, +which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving anything +away. It was generally felt that to such women as Mrs. MacAnder +should we look for the perpetuation and increase of our best type +of woman. She had never had any children. + +If there was one thing more than another that she could not stand +it was one of those soft women with what men called 'charm' about +them, and for Mrs. Soames she always had an especial dislike. + +Obscurely, no doubt, she felt that if charm were once admitted as +the criterion, smartness and capability must go to the wall; and +she hated--with a hatred the deeper that at times this so-called +charm seemed to disturb all calculations--the subtle seductiveness +which she could not altogether overlook in Irene. + +She said, however, that she could see nothing in the woman--there +was no 'go' about her--she would never be able to stand up for +herself--anyone could take advantage of her, that was plain--she +could not see in fact what men found to admire! + +She was not really ill-natured, but, in maintaining her position +after the trying circumstances of her married life, she had found +it so necessary to be 'full of information,' that the idea of +holding her tongue about 'those two' in the Park never occurred +to her. + +And it so happened that she was dining that very evening at +Timothy's, where she went sometimes to 'cheer the old things up,' +as she was wont to put it. The same people were always asked to +meet her: Winifred Dartie and her husband; Francie, because she +belonged to the artistic circles, for Mrs. MacAnder was known to +contribute articles on dress to 'The Ladies Kingdom Come'; and +for her to flirt with, provided they could be obtained, two of +the Hayman boys, who, though they never said anything, were +believed to be fast and thoroughly intimate with all that was +latest in smart Society. + +At twenty-five minutes past seven she turned out the electric +light in her little hall, and wrapped in her opera cloak with the +chinchilla collar, came out into the corridor, pausing a moment +to make sure she had her latch-key. These little self-contained +flats were convenient; to be sure, she had no light and no air, +but she could shut it up whenever she liked and go away. There +was no bother with servants, and she never felt tied as she used +to when poor, dear Fred was always about, in his mooney way. She +retained no rancour against poor, dear Fred, he was such a fool; +but the thought of that actress drew from her, even now, a +little, bitter, derisive smile. + +Firmly snapping the door to, she crossed the corridor, with its +gloomy, yellow-ochre walls, and its infinite vista of brown, +numbered doors. The lift was going down; and wrapped to the ears +in the high cloak, with every one of her auburn hairs in its +place, she waited motionless for it to stop at her floor. The +iron gates clanked open; she entered. There were already three +occupants, a man in a great white waistcoat, with a large, smooth +face like a baby's, and two old ladies in black, with mittened +hands. + +Mrs. MacAnder smiled at them; she knew everybody; and all these +three, who had been admirably silent before, began to talk at +once. This was Mrs. MacAnder's successful secret. She provoked +conversation. + +Throughout a descent of five stories the conversation continued, +the lift boy standing with his back turned, his cynical face +protruding through the bars. + +At the bottom they separated, the man in the white waistcoat +sentimentally to the billiard room, the old ladies to dine and +say to each other: "A dear little woman!" "Such a rattle!" and +Mrs. MacAnder to her cab. + +When Mrs. MacAnder dined at Timothy's, the conversation (although +Timothy himself could never be induced to be present) took that +wider, man-of-the-world tone current among Forsytes at large, and +this, no doubt, was what put her at a premium there. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester found it an exhilarating change. "If +only," they said, "Timothy would meet her!" It was felt that she +would do him good. She could tell you, for instance, the latest +story of Sir Charles Fiste's son at Monte Carlo; who was the real +heroine of Tynemouth Eddy's fashionable novel that everyone was +holding up their hands over, and what they were doing in Paris +about wearing bloomers. She was so sensible, too, knowing all +about that vexed question, whether to send young Nicholas' eldest +into the navy as his mother wished, or make him an accountant as +his father thought would be safer. She strongly deprecated the +navy. If you were not exceptionally brilliant or exceptionally +well connected, they passed you over so disgracefully, and what +was it after all to look forward to, even if you became an +admiral--a pittance! An accountant had many more chances, but +let him be put with a good firm, where there was no risk at +starting! + +Sometimes she would give them a tip on the Stock Exchange; not +that Mrs. Small or Aunt Hester ever took it. They had indeed no +money to invest; but it seemed to bring them into such exciting +touch with the realities of life. It was an event. They would +ask Timothy, they said. But they never did, knowing in advance +that it would upset him. Surreptitiously, however, for weeks +after they would look in that paper, which they took with respect +on account of its really fashionable proclivities, to see whether +'Bright's Rubies' or 'The Woollen Mackintosh Company' were up or +down. Sometimes they could not find the name of the company at +all; and they would wait until James or Roger or even Swithin +came in, and ask them in voices trembling with curiosity how that +'Bolivia Lime and Speltrate' was doing--they could not find it in +the paper. + +And Roger would answer: "What do you want to know for? Some +trash! You'll go burning your fingers--investing your money in +lime, and things you know nothing about! Who told you?" and +ascertaining what they had been told, he would go away, and, +making inquiries in the City, would perhaps invest some of his +own money in the concern. + +It was about the middle of dinner, just in fact as the saddle of +mutton had been brought in by Smither, that Mrs. MacAnder, +looking airily round, said: "Oh! and whom do you think I passed +to-day in Richmond Park? You'll never guess--Mrs. Soames and-- +Mr. Bosinney. They must have been down to look at the house!" + +Winifred Dartie coughed, and no one said a word. It was the +piece of evidence they had all unconsciously been waiting for. + +To do Mrs. MacAnder justice, she had been to Switzerland and the +Italian lakes with a party of three, and had not heard of Soames' +rupture with his architect. She could not tell, therefore, the +profound impression her words would make. + +Upright and a little flushed, she moved her small, shrewd eyes +from face to face, trying to gauge the effect of her words. On +either side of her a Hayman boy, his lean, taciturn, hungry face +turned towards his plate, ate his mutton steadily. + +These two, Giles and Jesse, were so alike and so inseparable that +they were known as the Dromios. They never talked, and seemed +always completely occupied in doing nothing. It was popularly +supposed that they were cramming for an important examination. +They walked without hats for long hours in the Gardens attached +to their house, books in their hands, a fox-terrier at their +heels, never saying a word, and smoking all the time. Every +morning, about fifty yards apart, they trotted down Campden Hill +on two lean hacks, with legs as long as their own, and every +morning about an hour later, still fifty yards apart, they +cantered up again. Every evening, wherever they had dined, they +might be observed about half-past ten, leaning over the +balustrade of the Alhambra promenade. + +They were never seen otherwise than together; in this way passing +their lives, apparently perfectly content. + +Inspired by some dumb stirring within them of the feelings of +gentlemen, they turned at this painful moment to Mrs. MacAnder, +and said in precisely the same voice: "Have you seen the...?" + +Such was her surprise at being thus addressed that she put down +her fork; and Smither, who was passing, promptly removed her +plate. Mrs. MacAnder, however, with presence of mind, said +instantly: "I must have a little more of that nice mutton." + +But afterwards in the drawing--room she sat down by Mrs. Small, +determined to get to the bottom of the matter. And she began: + +"What a charming woman, Mrs. Soames; such a sympathetic +temperament! Soames is a really lucky man!" + +Her anxiety for information had not made sufficient allowance for +that inner Forsyte skin which refuses to share its troubles with +outsiders. + +Mrs. Septimus Small, drawing herself up with a creak and rustle +of her whole person, said, shivering in her dignity: + +"My dear, it is a subject we do not talk about!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +NIGHT IN THE PARK + + +Although with her infallible instinct Mrs. Small had said the +very thing to make her guest 'more intriguee than ever,' it is +difficult to see how else she could truthfully have spoken. + +It was not a subject which the Forsytes could talk about even +among themselves--to use the word Soames had invented to +characterize to himself the situation, it was 'subterranean.' + +Yet, within a week of Mrs. MacAnder's encounter in Richmond Park, +to all of them--save Timothy, from whom it was carefully kept--to +James on his domestic beat from the Poultry to Park Lane, to +George the wild one, on his daily adventure from the bow window +at the Haversnake to the billiard room at the 'Red Pottle,' was +it known that 'those two' had gone to extremes. + +George (it was he who invented many of those striking expressions +still current in fashionable circles) voiced the sentiment more +accurately than any one when he said to his brother Eustace that +'the Buccaneer' was 'going it'; he expected Soames was about 'fed +up.' + +It was felt that he must be, and yet, what could be done? He +ought perhaps to take steps; but to take steps would be +deplorable. + +Without an open scandal which they could not see their way to +recommending, it was difficult to see what steps could be taken. +In this impasse, the only thing was to say nothing to Soames, and +nothing to each other; in fact, to pass it over. + +By displaying towards Irene a dignified coldness, some impression +might be made upon her; but she was seldom now to be seen, and +there seemed a slight difficulty in seeking her out on purpose to +show her coldness. Sometimes in the privacy of his bedroom James +would reveal to Emily the real suffering that his son's +misfortune caused him. + +"I can't tell," he would say; "it worries me out of my life. +There'll be a scandal, and that'll do him no good. I shan't say +anything to him. There might be nothing in it. What do you +think? She's very artistic, they tell me. What? Oh, you're a +'regular Juley! Well, I don't know; I expect the worst. This is +what comes of having no children. I knew how it would be from +the first. They never told me they didn't mean to have any +children--nobody tells me anything!" + +On his knees by the side of the bed, his eyes open and fixed with +worry, he would breathe into the counterpane. Clad in his +nightshirt, his neck poked forward, his back rounded, he +resembled some long white bird. + +"Our Father-," he repeated, turning over and over again the +thought of this possible scandal. + +Like old Jolyon, he, too, at the bottom of his heart set the +blame of the tragedy down to family interference. What business +had that lot--he began to think of the Stanhope Gate branch, +including young Jolyon and his daughter, as 'that lot'--to +introduce a person like this Bosinney into the family? (He had +heard George's soubriquet, 'The Buccaneer,' but he could make +nothing of that--the young man was an architect.) + +He began to feel that his brother Jolyon, to whom he had always +looked up and on whose opinion he had relied, was not quite what +he had expected. + +Not having his eldest brother's force of character, he was more +sad than angry. His great comfort was to go to Winifred's, and +take the little Darties in his carriage over to Kensington +Gardens, and there, by the Round Pond, he could often be seen +walking with his eyes fixed anxiously on little Publius Dartie's +sailing-boat, which he had himself freighted with a penny, as +though convinced that it would never again come to shore; while +little Publius--who, James delighted to say, was not a bit like +his father skipping along under his lee, would try to get him to +bet another that it never would, having found that it always did. +And James would make the bet; he always paid--sometimes as many +as three or four pennies in the afternoon, for the game seemed +never to pall on little Publius--and always in paying he said: +"Now, that's for your money-box. Why, you're getting quite a +rich man!" The thought of his little grandson's growing wealth +was a real pleasure to him. But little Publius knew a +sweet-shop, and a trick worth two of that. + +And they would walk home across the Park, James' figure, with +high shoulders and absorbed and worried face, exercising its +tall, lean protectorship, pathetically unregarded, over the +robust child-figures of Imogen and little Publius. + +But those Gardens and that Park were not sacred to James. +Forsytes and tramps, children and lovers, rested and wandered day +after day, night after night, seeking one and all some freedom +from labour, from the reek and turmoil of the streets. + +The leaves browned slowly, lingering with the sun and summer-like +warmth of the nights. + +On Saturday, October 5, the sky that had been blue all day +deepened after sunset to the bloom of purple grapes. There was +no moon, and a clear dark, like some velvety garment, was wrapped +around the trees, whose thinned branches, resembling plumes, +stirred not in the still, warm air. All London had poured into +the Park, draining the cup of summer to its dregs. + +Couple after couple, from every gate, they streamed along the +paths and over the burnt grass, and one after another, silently +out of the lighted spaces, stole into the shelter of the feathery +trees, where, blotted against some trunk, or under the shadow of +shrubs, they were lost to all but themselves in the heart of the +soft darkness. + +To fresh-comers along the paths, these forerunners formed but +part of that passionate dusk, whence only a strange murmur, like +the confused beating of hearts, came forth. But when that murmur +reached each couple in the lamp-light their voices wavered, and +ceased; their arms enlaced, their eyes began seeking, searching, +probing the blackness. Suddenly, as though drawn by invisible +hands, they, too, stepped over the railing, and, silent as +shadows, were gone from the light. + +The stillness, enclosed in the far, inexorable roar of the town, +was alive with the myriad passions, hopes, and loves of +multitudes of struggling human atoms; for in spite of the +disapproval of that great body of Forsytes, the Municipal +Council--to whom Love had long been considered, next to the +Sewage Question, the gravest danger to the community--a process +was going on that night in the Park, and in a hundred other +parks, without which the thousand factories, churches, shops, +taxes, and drains, of which they were custodians, were as +arteries without blood, a man without a heart. + +The instincts of self-forgetfulness, of passion, and of love, +hiding under the trees, away from the trustees of their +remorseless enemy, the 'sense of property,' were holding a +stealthy revel, and Soames, returning from Bayswater for he had +been alone to dine at Timothy's walking home along the water, +with his mind upon that coming lawsuit, had the blood driven from +his heart by a low laugh and the sound of kisses. He thought of +writing to the Times the next morning, to draw the attention of +the Editor to the condition of our parks. He did not, however, +for he had a horror of seeing his name in print. + +But starved as he was, the whispered sounds in the stillness, the +half-seen forms in the dark, acted on him like some morbid +stimulant. He left the path along the water and stole under the +trees, along the deep shadow of little plantations, where the +boughs of chestnut trees hung their great leaves low, and there +was blacker refuge, shaping his course in circles which had for +their object a stealthy inspection of chairs side by side, +against tree-trunks, of enlaced lovers, who stirred at his +approach. + +Now he stood still on the rise overlooking the Serpentine, where, +in full lamp-light, black against the silver water, sat a couple +who never moved, the woman's face buried on the man's neck--a +single form, like a carved emblem of passion, silent and +unashamed. + +And, stung by the sight, Soames hurried on deeper into the shadow +of the trees. + +In this search, who knows what he thought and what he sought? +Bread for hunger--light in darkness? Who knows what he expected +to find--impersonal knowledge of the human heart--the end of his +private subterranean tragedy--for, again, who knew, but that each +dark couple, unnamed, unnameable, might not be he and she? + +But it could not be such knowledge as this that he was seeking-- +the wife of Soames Forsyte sitting in the Park like a common +wench! Such thoughts were inconceivable; and from tree to tree, +with his noiseless step, he passed. + +Once he was sworn at; once the whisper, "If only it could always +be like this!" sent the blood flying again from his heart, and he +waited there, patient and dogged, for the two to move. But it +was only a poor thin slip of a shop-girl in her draggled blouse +who passed him, clinging to her lover's arm. + +A hundred other lovers too whispered that hope in the stillness +of the trees, a hundred other lovers clung to each other. + +But shaking himself with sudden disgust, Soames returned to the +path, and left that seeking for he knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +MEETING AT THE BOTANICAL + + +Young Jolyon, whose circumstances were not those of a Forsyte, +found at times a difficulty in sparing the money needful for +those country jaunts and researches into Nature, without having +prosecuted which no watercolour artist ever puts brush to paper. + +He was frequently, in fact, obliged to take his colour-box into +the Botanical Gardens, and there, on his stool, in the shade of a +monkey-puzzler or in the lee of some India-rubber plant, he would +spend long hours sketching. + +An Art critic who had recently been looking at his work had +delivered himself as follows + +"In a way your drawings are very good; tone and colour, in some +of them certainly quite a feeling for Nature. But, you see, +they're so scattered; you'll never get the public to look at +them. Now, if you'd taken a definite subject, such as 'London by +Night,' or 'The Crystal Palace in the Spring,' and made a regular +series, the public would have known at once what they were +looking at. I can't lay too much stress upon that. All the men +who are making great names in Art, like Crum Stone or Bleeder, +are making them by avoiding the unexpected; by specializing and +putting their works all in the same pigeon-hole, so that the +public know pat once where to go. And this stands to reason, for +if a man's a collector he doesn't want people to smell at the +canvas to find out whom his pictures are by; he wants them to be +able to say at once, 'A capital Forsyte!' It is all the more +important for you to be careful to choose a subject that they can +lay hold of on the spot, since there's no very marked originality +in your style." + +Young Jolyon, standing by the little piano, where a bowl of dried +rose leaves, the only produce of the garden, was deposited on a +bit of faded damask, listened with his dim smile. + +Turning to his wife, who was looking at the speaker with an angry +expression on her thin face, he said: + +"You see, dear?" + +"I do not," she answered in her staccato voice, that still had a +little foreign accent; "your style has originality." + +The critic looked at her, smiled' deferentially, and said no +more. Like everyone else, he knew their history. + +The words bore good fruit with young Jolyon; they were contrary +to all that he believed in, to all that he theoretically held +good in his Art, but some strange, deep instinct moved him +against his will to turn them to profit. + +He discovered therefore one morning that an idea had come to him +for making a series of watercolour drawings of London. How the +idea had arisen he could not tell; and it was not till the +following year, when he had completed and sold them at a very +fair price, that in one of his impersonal moods, he found himself +able to recollect the Art critic, and to discover in his own +achievement another proof that he was a Forsyte. + +He decided to commence with the Botanical Gardens, where he had +already made so many studies, and chose the little artificial +pond, sprinkled now with an autumn shower of red and yellow +leaves, for though the gardeners longed to sweep them off, they +could not reach them with their brooms. The rest of the gardens +they swept bare enough, removing every morning Nature's rain of +leaves; piling them in heaps, whence from slow fires rose the +sweet, acrid smoke that, like the cuckoo's note for spring, the +scent of lime trees for the summer, is the true emblem of the +fall. The gardeners' tidy souls could not abide the gold and +green and russet pattern on the grass. The gravel paths must lie +unstained, ordered, methodical, without knowledge of the +realities of life, nor of that slow and beautiful decay which +flings crowns underfoot to star the earth with fallen glories, +whence, as the cycle rolls, will leap again wild spring. + +Thus each leaf that fell was marked from the moment when it +fluttered a good-bye and dropped, slow turning, from its twig. + +But on that little pond the leaves floated in peace, and praised +Heaven with their hues, the sunlight haunting over them. + +And so young Jolyon found them. + +Coming there one morning in the middle of October, he was +disconcerted to find a bench about twenty paces from his stand +occupied, for he had a proper horror of anyone seeing him at +work. + +A lady in a velvet jacket was sitting there, with her eyes fixed +on the ground. A flowering laurel, however, stood between, and, +taking shelter behind this, young Jolyon prepared his easel. + +His preparations were leisurely; he caught, as every true artist +should, at anything that might delay for a moment the effort of +his work, and he found himself looking furtively at this unknown +dame. + +Like his father before him, he had an eye for a face. This face +was charming! + +He saw a rounded chin nestling in a cream ruffle, a delicate face +with large dark eyes and soft lips. A black 'picture' hat +concealed the hair; her figure was lightly poised against the +back of the bench, her knees were crossed; the tip of a +patent-leather shoe emerged beneath her skirt. There was +something, indeed, inexpressibly dainty about the person of this +lady, but young Jolyon's attention was chiefly riveted by the +look on her face, which reminded him of his wife. It was as +though its owner had come into contact with forces too strong for +her. It troubled him, arousing vague feelings of attraction and +chivalry. Who was she? And what doing there, alone? + +Two young gentlemen of that peculiar breed, at once forward and +shy, found in the Regent's Park, came by on their way to lawn +tennis, and he noted with disapproval their furtive stares of +admiration. A loitering gardener halted to do something +unnecessary to a clump of pampas grass; he, too, wanted an excuse +for peeping. A gentleman, old, and, by his hat, a professor of +horticulture, passed three times to scrutinize her long and +stealthily, a queer expression about his lips. + +With all these men young Jolyon felt the same vague irritation. +She looked at none of them, yet was he certain that every man who +passed would look at her like that. + +Her face was not the face of a sorceress, who in every look holds +out to men the offer of pleasure; it had none of the 'devil's +beauty' so highly prized among the first Forsytes of the land; +neither was it of that type, no less adorable, associated with +the box of chocolate; it was not of the spiritually passionate, +or passionately spiritual order, peculiar to house-decoration and +modern poetry; nor did it seem to promise to the playwright +material for the production of the interesting and neurasthenic +figure, who commits suicide in the last act. + +In shape and colouring, in its soft persuasive passivity, its +sensuous purity, this woman's face reminded him of Titian's +'Heavenly Love,' a reproduction of which hung over the sideboard +in his dining-room. And her attraction seemed to be in this soft +passivity, in the feeling she gave that to pressure she must +yield. + +For what or whom was she waiting, in the silence, with the trees +dropping here and there a leaf, and the thrushes strutting close +on grass, touched with the sparkle of the autumn rime? Then her +charming face grew eager, and, glancing round, with almost a +lover's jealousy, young Jolyon saw Bosinney striding across the +grass. + +Curiously he watched the meeting, the look in their eyes, the +long clasp of their hands. They sat down close together, linked +for all their outward discretion. He heard the rapid murmur of +their talk; but what they said he could not catch. + +He had rowed in the galley himself! He knew the long hours of +waiting and the lean minutes of a half-public meeting; the +tortures of suspense that haunt the unhallowed lover. + +It required, however, but a glance at their two faces to see that +this was none of those affairs of a season that distract men and +women about town; none of those sudden appetites that wake up +ravening, and are surfeited and asleep again in six weeks. This +was the real thing! This was what had happened to himself! Out +of this anything might come! + +Bosinney was pleading, and she so quiet, so soft, yet immovable +in her passivity, sat looking over the grass. + +Was he the man to carry her off, that tender, passive being, who +would never stir a step for herself? Who had given him all +herself, and would die for him, but perhaps would never run away +with him! + +It seemed to young Jolyon that he could hear her saying: "But, +darling, it would ruin you!" For he himself had experienced to +the full the gnawing fear at the bottom of each woman's heart +that she is a drag on the man she loves. + +And he peeped at them no more; but their soft, rapid talk came to +his ears, with the stuttering song of some bird who seemed trying +to remember the notes of spring: Joy--tragedy? Which--which? + +And gradually their talk ceased; long silence followed. + +'And where does Soames come in?' young Jolyon thought. 'People +think she is concerned about the sin of deceiving her husband! +Little they know of women! She's eating, after starvation-- +taking her revenge! And Heaven help her--for he'll take his.' + +He heard the swish of silk, and, spying round the laurel, saw +them walking away, their hands stealthily joined.... + +At the end of July old Jolyon had taken his grand-daughter to the +mountains; and on that visit (the last they ever paid) June +recovered to a great extent her health and spirits. In the +hotels, filled with British Forsytes--for old Jolyon could not +bear a 'set of Germans,' as he called all foreigners--she was +looked upon with respect--the only grand-daughter of that fine- +looking, and evidently wealthy, old Mr. Forsyte. She did not mix +freely with people--to mix freely with people was not June's +habit--but she formed some friendships, and notably one in the +Rhone Valley, with a French girl who was dying of consumption. + +Determining at once that her friend should not die, she forgot, +in the institution of a campaign against Death, much of her own +trouble. + +Old Jolyon watched the new intimacy with relief and disapproval; +for this additional proof that her life was to be passed amongst +'lame ducks' worried him. Would she never make a friendship or +take an interest in something that would be of real benefit to +her? + +'Taking up with a parcel of foreigners,' he called it. He often, +however, brought home grapes or roses, and presented them to +'Mam'zelle' with an ingratiating twinkle. + +Towards the end of September, in spite of June's disapproval, +Mademoiselle Vigor breathed her last in the little hotel at St. +Luc, to which they had moved her; and June took her defeat so +deeply to heart that old Jolyon carried her away to Paris. Here, +in contemplation of the 'Venus de Milo' and the 'Madeleine,' she +shook off her depression, and when, towards the middle of +October, they returned to town, her grandfather believed that he +had effected a cure. + +No sooner, however, had they established themselves in Stanhope +Gate than he perceived to his dismay a return of her old absorbed +and brooding manner. She would sit, staring in front of her, her +chin on her hand, like a little Norse spirit, grim and intent, +while all around in the electric light, then just installed, +shone the great, drawing-room brocaded up to the frieze, full of +furniture from Baple and Pullbred's. And in the huge gilt mirror +were reflected those Dresden china groups of young men in tight +knee breeches, at the feet of full-bosomed ladies nursing on +their laps pet lambs, which old Jolyon had bought when he was a +bachelor and thought so highly of in these days of degenerate +taste. He was a man of most open mind, who, more than any +Forsyte of them all, had moved with the times, but he could never +forget that he had bought these groups at Jobson's, and given a +lot of money for them. He often said to June, with a sort of +disillusioned contempt: + +"You don't care about them! They're not the gimcrack things you +and your friends like, but they cost me seventy pounds!" He was +not a man who allowed his taste to be warped when he knew for +solid reasons that it was sound. + +One of the first things that June did on getting home was to go +round to Timothy's. She persuaded herself that it was her duty +to call there, and cheer him with an account of all her travels; +but in reality she went because she knew of no other place where, +by some random speech, or roundabout question, she could glean +news of Bosinney. + +They received her most cordially: And how was her dear grand- +father? He had not been to see them since May. Her Uncle +Timothy was very poorly, he had had a lot of trouble with the +chimney-sweep in his bedroom; the stupid man had let the soot +down the chimney! It had quite upset her uncle. + +June sat there a long time, dreading, yet passionately hoping, +that they would speak of Bosinney. + +But paralyzed by unaccountable discretion, Mrs. Septimus Small +let fall no word, neither did she question June about him. In +desperation the girl asked at last whether Soames and Irene were +in town--she had not yet been to see anyone. + +It was Aunt Hester who replied: Oh, yes, they were in town, they +had not been away at all. There was some little difficulty about +the house, she believed. June had heard, no doubt! She had +better ask her Aunt Juley! + +June turned to Mrs. Small, who sat upright in her chair, her +hands clasped, her face covered with innumerable pouts. In +answer to the girl's look she maintained a strange silence, and +when she spoke it was to ask June whether she had worn night- +socks up in those high hotels where it must be so cold of a +night. + +June answered that she had not, she hated the stuffy things; and +rose to leave. + +Mrs. Small's infallibly chosen silence was far more ominous to +her than anything that could have been said. + +Before half an hour was over she had dragged the truth from Mrs. +Baynes in Lowndes Square, that Soames was bringing an action +against Bosinney over the decoration of the house. + +Instead of disturbing her, the news had a strangely calming +effect; as though she saw in the prospect of this struggle new +hope for herself. She learnt that the case was expected to come +on in about a month, and there seemed little or no prospect of +Bosinney's success. + +"And whatever he'll do I can't think," said Mrs. Baynes; "it's +very dreadful for him, you know--he's got no money--he's very +hard up. And we can't help him, I'm sure. I'm told the +money-lenders won't lend if you have no security, and he has +none--none at all." + +Her embonpoint had increased of late; she was in the full swing +of autumn organization, her writing-table literally strewn with +the menus of charity functions. She looked meaningly at June, +with her round eyes of parrot-grey. + +The sudden flush that rose on the girl's intent young face--she +must have seen spring up before her a great hope--the sudden +sweetness of her smile, often came back to Lady Baynes in after +years (Baynes was knighted when he built that public Museum of +Art which has given so much employment to officials, and so +little pleasure to those working classes for whom it was +designed). + +The memory of that change, vivid and touching, like the breaking +open of a flower, or the first sun after long winter, the memory, +too, of all that came after, often intruded itself, unaccountably, +inopportunely on Lady Baynes, when her mind was set upon the most +important things. + +This was the very afternoon of the day that young Jolyon +witnessed the meeting in the Botanical Gardens, and on this day, +too, old Jolyon paid a visit to his solicitors, Forsyte, Bustard, +and Forsyte, in the Poultry. Soames was not in, he had gone down +to Somerset House; Bustard was buried up to the hilt in papers +and that inaccessible apartment, where he was judiciously placed, +in order that he might do as much work as possible; but James was +in the front office, biting a finger, and lugubriously turning +over the pleadings in Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +This sound lawyer had only a sort of luxurious dread of the 'nice +point,' enough to set up a pleasurable feeling of fuss; for his +good practical sense told him that if he himself were on the +Bench he would not pay much attention to it. But he was afraid +that this Bosinney would go bankrupt and Soames would have to +find the money after all, and costs into the bargain. And behind +this tangible dread there was always that intangible trouble, +lurking in the background, intricate, dim, scandalous, like a bad +dream, and of which this action was but an outward and visible +sign. + +He raised his head as old Jolyon came in, and muttered: "How are +you, Jolyon? Haven't seen you for an age. You've been to +Switzerland, they tell me. This young Bosinney, he's got himself +into a mess. I knew how it would be!" He held out the papers, +regarding his elder brother with nervous gloom. + +Old Jolyon read them in silence, and while he read them James +looked at the floor, biting his fingers the while. + +Old Jolyon pitched them down at last, and they fell with a thump +amongst a mass of affidavits in 're Buncombe, deceased,' one of +the many branches of that parent and profitable tree, 'Fryer v. +Forsyte.' + +"I don't know what Soames is about," he said, "to make a fuss +over a few hundred pounds. I thought he was a man of property." + +James'long upper lip twitched angrily; he could not bear his son +to be attacked in such a spot. + +"It's not the money "he began, but meeting his brother's glance, +direct, shrewd, judicial, he stopped. + +There was a silence. + +"I've come in for my Will," said old Jolyon at last, tugging at +his moustache. + +James' curiosity was roused at once. Perhaps nothing in this +life was more stimulating to him than a Will; it was the supreme +deal with property, the final inventory of a man's belongings, +the last word on what he was worth. He sounded the bell. + +"Bring in Mr. Jolyon's Will," he said to an anxious, dark-haired +clerk. + +"You going to make some alterations?" And through his mind there +flashed the thought: 'Now, am I worth as much as he?' + +Old Jolyon put the Will in his breast pocket, and James twisted +his long legs regretfully. + +"You've made some nice purchases lately, they tell me," he said. + +"I don't know where you get your information from," answered old +Jolyon sharply. "When's this action coming on? Next month? I +can't tell what you've got in your minds. You must manage your +own affairs; but if you take my advice, you'll settle it out of +Court. Good-bye!" With a cold handshake he was gone. + +James, his fixed grey-blue eye corkscrewing round some secret +anxious image, began again to bite his finger. + +Old Jolyon took his Will to the offices of the New Colliery +Company, and sat down in the empty Board Room to read it through. +He answered 'Down-by-the-starn' Hemmings so tartly when the +latter, seeing his Chairman seated there, entered with the new +Superintendent's first report, that the Secretary withdrew with +regretful dignity; and sending for the transfer clerk, blew him +up till the poor youth knew not where to look. + +It was not--by George--as he (Down-by-the-starn) would have him +know, for a whippersnapper of a young fellow like him, to come +down to that office, and think that he was God Almighty. He +(Down-by-the-starn) had been head of that office for more years +than a boy like him could count, and if he thought that when he +had finished all his work, he could sit there doing nothing, he +did not know him, Hemmings (Down-by-the-starn), and so forth. + +On the other side of the green baize door old Jolyon sat at the +long, mahogany-and-leather board table, his thick, loose-jointed, +tortoiseshell eye-glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his +gold pencil moving down the clauses of his Will. + +It was a simple affair, for there were none of those vexatious +little legacies and donations to charities, which fritter away a +man's possessions, and damage the majestic effect of that little +paragraph in the morning papers accorded to Forsytes who die with +a hundred thousand pounds. + +A simple affair. Just a bequest to his son of twenty thousand, +and 'as to the residue of my property of whatsoever kind whether +realty or personalty, or partaking of the nature of either--upon +trust to pay the proceeds rents annual produce dividends or +interest thereof and thereon to my said grand-daughter June +Forsyte or her assigns during her life to be for her sole use and +benefit and without, etc... and from and after her death or +decease upon trust to convey assign transfer or make over the +said last-mentioned lands hereditaments premises trust moneys +stocks funds investments and securities or such as shall then +stand for and represent the same unto such person or persons +whether one or more for such intents purposes and uses and +generally in such manner way and form in all respects as the said +June Forsyte notwithstanding coverture shall by her last Will and +Testament or any writing or writings in the nature of a Will +testament or testamentary disposition to be by her duly made +signed and published direct appoint or make over give and dispose +of the same And in default etc.... Provided always...' and so on, +in seven folios of brief and simple phraseology. + +The Will had been drawn by James in his palmy days. He had +foreseen almost every contingency. + +Old Jolyon sat a long time reading this Will; at last he took +half a sheet of paper from the rack, and made a prolonged pencil +note; then buttoning up the Will, he caused a cab to be called +and drove to the offices of Paramor and Herring, in Lincoln's Inn +Fields. Jack Herring was dead, but his nephew was still in the +firm, and old Jolyon was closeted with him for half an hour. + +He had kept the hansom, and on coming out, gave the driver the +address--3, Wistaria Avenue. + +He felt a strange, slow satisfaction, as though he had scored a +victory over James and the man of property. They should not poke +their noses into his affairs any more; he had just cancelled +their trusteeships of his Will; he would take the whole of his +business out of their hands, and put it into the hands of young +Herring, and he would move the business of his Companies too. If +that young Soames were such a man of property, he would never +miss a thousand a year or so; and under his great white moustache +old Jolyon grimly smiled. He felt that what he was doing was in +the nature of retributive justice, richly deserved. + +Slowly, surely, with the secret inner process that works the +destruction of an old tree, the poison of the wounds to his +happiness, his will, his pride, had corroded the comely edifice +of his philosophy. Life had worn him down on one side, till, +like that family of which he was the head, he had lost balance. + +To him, borne northwards towards his son's house, the thought of +the new disposition of property, which he had just set in motion, +appeared vaguely in the light of a stroke of punishment, levelled +at that family and that Society, of which James and his son +seemed to him the representatives. He had made a restitution to +young Jolyon, and restitution to young Jolyon satisfied his +secret craving for revenge-revenge against Time, sorrow, and +interference, against all that incalculable sum of disapproval +that had been bestowed by the world for fifteen years on his only +son. It presented itself as the one possible way of asserting +once more the domination of his will; of forcing James, and +Soames, and the family, and all those hidden masses of Forsytes-- +a great stream rolling against the single dam of his obstinacy-- +to recognise once and for all that be would be master. It was +sweet to think that at last he was going to make the boy a richer +man by far than that son of James, that 'man of property.' And it +was sweet to give to Jo, for he loved his son. + +Neither young Jolyon nor his wife were in (young Jolyon indeed +was not back from the Botanical), but the little maid told him +that she expected the master at any moment: + +"He's always at 'ome to tea, sir, to play with the children." + +Old Jolyon said he would wait; and sat down patiently enough in +the faded, shabby drawing room, where, now that the summer +chintzes were removed, the old chairs and sofas revealed all +their threadbare deficiencies. He longed to send for the +children; to have them there beside him, their supple bodies +against his knees; to hear Jolly's: "Hallo, Gran!" and see his +rush; and feel Holly's soft little hand stealing up against his +cheek. But he would not. There was solemnity in what he had +come to do, and until it was over he would not play. He amused +himself by thinking how with two strokes of his pen he was going +to restore the look of caste so conspicuously absent from +everything in that little house; how he could fill these rooms, +or others in some larger mansion, with triumphs of art from Baple +and Pullbred's; how he could send little Jolly to Harrow and +Oxford (he no longer had faith in Eton and Cambridge, for his son +had been there); how he could procure little Holly the best +musical instruction, the child had a remarkable aptitude. + +As these visions crowded before him, causing emotion to swell his +heart, he rose, and stood at the window, looking down into the +little walled strip of garden, where the pear-tree, bare of +leaves before its time, stood with gaunt branches in the +slow-gathering mist of the autumn afternoon. The dog Balthasar, +his tail curled tightly over a piebald, furry back, was walking +at the farther end, sniffing at the plants, and at intervals +placing his leg for support against the wall. + +And old Jolyon mused. + +What pleasure was there left but to give? It was pleasant to +give, when you could find one who would be thankful for what you +gave--one of your own flesh and blood! There was no such +satisfaction to be had out of giving to those who did not belong +to you, to those who had no claim on you! Such giving as that +was a betrayal of the individualistic convictions and actions of +his life, of all his enterprise, his labour, and his moderation, +of the great and proud fact that, like tens of thousands of +Forsytes before him, tens of thousands in the present, tens of +thousands in the future, he had always made his own, and held his +own, in the world. + +And, while he stood there looking down on the smut-covered +foliage of the laurels, the black-stained grass-plot, the progress +of the dog Balthasar, all the suffering of the fifteen years +during which he had been baulked of legitimate enjoyment mingled +its gall with the sweetness of the approaching moment. + +Young Jolyon came at last, pleased with his work, and fresh from +long hours in the open air. On hearing that his father was in +the drawing room, he inquired hurriedly whether Mrs. Forsyte was +at home, and being informed that she was not, heaved a sigh of +relief. Then putting his painting materials carefully in the +little coat-closet out of sight, he went in. + +With characteristic decision old Jolyon came at once to the +point. "I've been altering my arrangements, Jo," he said. "You +can cut your coat a bit longer in the future--I'm settling a +thousand a year on you at once. June will have fifty thousand at +my death; and you the rest. That dog of yours is spoiling the +garden. I shouldn't keep a dog, if I were you!" + +The dog Balthasar, seated in the centre of the lawn, was +examining his tail. + +Young Jolyon looked at the animal, but saw him dimly, for his +eyes were misty. + +"Yours won't come short of a hundred thousand, my boy," said old +Jolyon; "I thought you'd better know. I haven't much longer to +live at my age. I shan't allude to it again. How's your wife? +And--give her my love." + +Young Jolyon put his hand on his father's shoulder, and, as +neither spoke, the episode closed. + +Having seen his father into a hansom, young Jolyon came back to +the drawing-room and stood, where old Jolyon had stood, looking +down on the little garden. He tried to realize all that this +meant to him, and, Forsyte that he was, vistas of property were +opened out in his brain; the years of half rations through which +he had passed had not sapped his natural instincts. In extremely +practical form, he thought of travel, of his wife's costume, the +children's education, a pony for Jolly, a thousand things; but in +the midst of all he thought, too, of Bosinney and his mistress, +and the broken song of the thrush. Joy--tragedy! Which? Which? + +The old past--the poignant, suffering, passionate, wonderful +past, that no money could buy, that nothing could restore in all +its burning sweetness--had come back before him. + +When his wife came in he went straight up to her and took her in +his arms; and for a long time he stood without speaking, his eyes +closed, pressing her to him, while she looked at him with a +wondering, adoring, doubting look in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +VOYAGE INTO THE INFERNO + + +The morning after a certain night on which Soames at last +asserted his rights and acted like a man, he breakfasted alone. + +He breakfasted by gaslight, the fog of late November wrapping the +town as in some monstrous blanket till the trees of the Square +even were barely visible from the dining-room window. + +He ate steadily, but at times a sensation as though he could not +swallow attacked him. Had he been right to yield to his +overmastering hunger of the night before, and break down the +resistance which he had suffered now too long from this woman who +was his lawful and solemnly constituted helpmate? + +He was strangely haunted by the recollection of her face, from +before which, to soothe her, he had tried to pull her hands--of +her terrible smothered sobbing, the like of which he had never +heard, and still seemed to hear; and he was still haunted by the +odd, intolerable feeling of remorse and shame he had felt, as he +stood looking at her by the flame of the single candle, before +silently slinking away. + +And somehow, now that he had acted like this, he was surprised at +himself. + +Two nights before, at Winifred Dartie's, he had taken Mrs. +MacAnder into dinner. She had said to him, looking in his face +with her sharp, greenish eyes: "And so your wife is a great +friend of that Mr. Bosinney's?" + +Not deigning to ask what she meant, he had brooded over her +words. + +They had roused in him a fierce jealousy, which, with the +peculiar perversion of this instinct, had turned to fiercer +desire. + +Without the incentive of Mrs. MacAnder's words he might never +have done what he had done. Without their incentive and the +accident of finding his wife's door for once unlocked, which had +enabled him to steal upon her asleep. + +Slumber had removed his doubts, but the morning brought them +again. One thought comforted him: No one would know--it was not +the sort of thing that she would speak about. + +And, indeed, when the vehicle of his daily business life, which +needed so imperatively the grease of clear and practical thought, +started rolling once more with the reading of his letters, those +nightmare-like doubts began to assume less extravagant importance +at the back of his mind. The incident was really not of great +moment; women made a fuss about it in books; but in the cool +judgment of right-thinking men, of men of the world, of such as +he recollected often received praise in the Divorce Court, he had +but done his best to sustain the sanctity of marriage, to prevent +her from abandoning her duty, possibly, if she were still seeing +Bosinney, from.... + +No, he did not regret it. + +Now that the first step towards reconciliation had been taken, +the rest would be comparatively--comparatively.... + +He, rose and walked to the window. His nerve had been shaken. +The sound of smothered sobbing was in his ears again. He could +not get rid of it. + +He put on his fur coat, and went out into the fog; having to go +into the City, he took the underground railway from Sloane Square +station. + +In his corner of the first-class compartment filled with City men +the smothered sobbing still haunted him, so he opened the Times +with the rich crackle that drowns all lesser sounds, and, +barricaded behind it, set himself steadily to con the news. + +He read that a Recorder had charged a grand jury on the previous +day with a more than usually long list of offences. He read of +three murders, five manslaughters, seven arsons, and as many as +eleven rapes--a surprisingly high number--in addition to many +less conspicuous crimes, to be tried during a coming Sessions; +and from one piece of news he went on to another, keeping the +paper well before his face. + +And still, inseparable from his reading, was the memory of +Irene's tear-stained face, and the sounds from her broken heart. + +The day was a busy one, including, in addition to the ordinary +affairs of his practice, a visit to his brokers, Messrs. Grin +and Grinning, to give them instructions to sell his shares in the +New Colliery Co., Ltd., whose business he suspected, rather than +knew, was stagnating (this enterprise afterwards slowly declined, +and was ultimately sold for a song to an American syndicate); and +a long conference at Waterbuck, Q.C.'s chambers, attended by +Boulter, by Fiske, the junior counsel, and Waterbuck, Q.C., +himself. + +The case of Forsyte v. Bosinney was expected to be reached on +the morrow, before Mr. Justice Bentham. + +Mr. Justice Bentham, a man of common-sense rather than too great +legal knowledge, was considered to be about the best man they +could have to try the action. He was a 'strong' Judge. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., in pleasing conjunction with an almost rude +neglect of Boulter and Fiske paid to Soames a good deal of +attention, by instinct or the sounder evidence of rumour, feeling +him to be a man of property. + +He held with remarkable consistency to the opinion he had already +expressed in writing, that the issue would depend to a great +extent on the evidence given at the trial, and in a few well +directed remarks he advised Soames not to be too careful in +giving that evidence. "A little bluffness, Mr. Forsyte," he said, +"a little bluffness," and after he had spoken he laughed firmly, +closed his lips tight, and scratched his head just below where he +had pushed his wig back, for all the world like the gentleman- +farmer for whom he loved to be taken. He was considered perhaps +the leading man in breach of promise cases. + +Soames used the underground again in going home. + +The fog was worse than ever at Sloane Square station. Through +the still, thick blur, men groped in and out; women, very few, +grasped their reticules to their bosoms and handkerchiefs to +their mouths; crowned with the weird excrescence of the driver, +haloed by a vague glow of lamp-light that seemed to drown in +vapour before it reached the pavement, cabs loomed dim-shaped ever +and again, and discharged citizens, bolting like rabbits to their +burrows. + +And these shadowy figures, wrapped each in his own little shroud +of fog, took no notice of each other. In the great warren, each +rabbit for himself, especially those clothed in the more +expensive fur, who, afraid of carriages on foggy days, are driven +underground. + +One figure, however, not far from Soames, waited at the station +door. + +Some buccaneer or lover, of whom each Forsyte thought: 'Poor +devil! looks as if he were having a bad time!' Their kind hearts +beat a stroke faster for that poor, waiting, anxious lover in the +fog; but they hurried by, well knowing that they had neither time +nor money to spare for any suffering but their own. + +Only a policeman, patrolling slowly and at intervals, took an +interest in that waiting figure, the brim of whose slouch hat +half hid a face reddened by the cold, all thin, and haggard, over +which a hand stole now and again to smooth away anxiety, or renew +the resolution that kept him waiting there. But the waiting +lover (if lover he were) was used to policemen's scrutiny, or too +absorbed in his anxiety, for he never flinched. A hardened case, +accustomed to long trysts, to anxiety, and fog, and cold, if only +his mistress came at last. Foolish lover! Fogs last until the +spring; there is also snow and rain, no comfort anywhere; gnawing +fear if you bring her out, gnawing fear if you bid her stay at +home! + +"Serve him right; he should arrange his affairs better!" + +So any respectable Forsyte. Yet, if that sounder citizen could +have listened at the waiting lover's heart, out there in the fog +and the cold, he would have said again: "Yes, poor devil he's +having a bad time!" + +Soames got into his cab, and, with the glass down, crept along +Sloane Street, and so along the Brompton Road, and home. He +reached his house at five. + +His wife was not in. She had gone out a quarter of an hour +before. Out at such a time of night, into this terrible fog! +What was the meaning of that? + +He sat by the dining-room fire, with the door open, disturbed to +the soul, trying to read the evening paper. A book was no good-- +in daily papers alone was any narcotic to such worry as his. +From the customary events recorded in the journal he drew some +comfort. 'Suicide of an actress'--'Grave indisposition of a +Statesman' (that chronic sufferer)--'Divorce of an army officer' +--'Fire in a colliery'--he read them all. They helped him a +little--prescribed by the greatest of all doctors, our natural +taste. + +It was nearly seven when he heard her come in. + +The incident of the night before had long lost its importance +under stress of anxiety at her strange sortie into the fog. But +now that Irene was home, the memory of her broken-hearted sobbing +came back to him, and he felt nervous at the thought of facing +her. + +She was already on the stairs; her grey fur coat hung to her +knees, its high collar almost hid her face, she wore a thick +veil. + +She neither turned to look at him nor spoke. No ghost or +stranger could have passed more silently. + +Bilson came to lay dinner, and told him that Mrs. Forsyte was not +coming down; she was having the soup in her room. + +For once Soames did not 'change'; it was, perhaps, the first time +in his life that he had sat down to dinner with soiled cuffs, +and, not even noticing them, he brooded long over his wine. He +sent Bilson to light a fire in his picture-room, and presently +went up there himself. + +Turning on the gas, he heaved a deep sigh, as though amongst +these treasures, the backs of which confronted him in stacks, +around the little room, he had found at length his peace of mind. +He went straight up to the greatest treasure of them all, an +undoubted Turner, and, carrying it to the easel, turned its face +to the light. There had been a movement in Turners, but he had +not been able to make up his mind to part with it. He stood for +a long time, his pale, clean-shaven face poked forward above his +stand-up collar, looking at the picture as though he were adding +it up; a wistful expression came into his eyes; he found, +perhaps, that it came to too little. He took it down from the +easel to put it back against the wall; but, in crossing the room, +stopped, for he seemed to hear sobbing. + +It was nothing--only the sort of thing that had been bothering +him in the morning. And soon after, putting the high guard +before the blazing fire, he stole downstairs. + +Fresh for the morrow! was his thought. It was long before he +went to sleep.... + +It is now to George Forsyte that the mind must turn for light on +the events of that fog-engulfed afternoon. + +The wittiest and most sportsmanlike of the Forsytes had passed +the day reading a novel in the paternal mansion at Princes' +Gardens. Since a recent crisis in his financial affairs he had +been kept on parole by Roger, and compelled to reside 'at home.' + +Towards five o'clock he went out, and took train at South +Kensington Station (for everyone to-day went Underground). His +intention was to dine, and pass the evening playing billiards at +the Red Pottle--that unique hostel, neither club, hotel, nor good +gilt restaurant. + +He got out at Charing Cross, choosing it in preference to his +more usual St. James's Park, that he might reach Jermyn Street +by better lighted ways. + +On the platform his eyes--for in combination with a composed and +fashionable appearance, George had sharp eyes, and was always on +the look-out for fillips to his sardonic humour--his eyes were +attracted by a man, who, leaping from a first-class compartment, +staggered rather than walked towards the exit. + +'So ho, my bird!' said George to himself; 'why, it's "the +Buccaneer!"' and he put his big figure on the trail. Nothing +afforded him greater amusement than a drunken man. + +Bosinney, who wore a slouch hat, stopped in front of him, spun +around, and rushed back towards the carriage he had just left. +He was too late. A porter caught him by the coat; the train was +already moving on. + +George's practised glance caught sight of the face of a lady clad +in a grey fur coat at the carriage window. It was Mrs. Soames-- +and George felt that this was interesting! + +And now he followed Bosinney more closely than ever--up the +stairs, past the ticket collector into the street. In that +progress, however, his feelings underwent a change; no longer +merely curious and amused, he felt sorry for the poor fellow he +was shadowing. 'The Buccaneer' was not drunk, but seemed to be +acting under the stress of violent emotion; he was talking to +himself, and all that George could catch were the words "Oh, +God!" Nor did he appear to know what he was doing, or where +going; but stared, hesitated, moved like a man out of his mind; +and from being merely a joker in search of amusement, George felt +that he must see the poor chap through. + +He had 'taken the knock'--'taken the knock!' And he wondered what +on earth Mrs. Soames had been saying, what on earth she had been +telling him in the railway carriage. She had looked bad enough +herself! It made George sorry to think of her travelling on with +her trouble all alone. + +He followed close behind Bosinney's elbow--tall, burly figure, +saying nothing, dodging warily--and shadowed him out into the +fog. + +There was something here beyond a jest! He kept his head +admirably, in spite of some excitement, for in addition to +compassion, the instincts of the chase were roused within him. + +Bosinney walked right out into the thoroughfare--a vast muffled +blackness, where a man could not see six paces before him; where, +all around, voices or whistles mocked the sense of direction; and +sudden shapes came rolling slow upon them; and now and then a +light showed like a dim island in an infinite dark sea. + +And fast into this perilous gulf of night walked Bosinney, and +fast after him walked George. If the fellow meant to put his +'twopenny' under a 'bus, he would stop it if he could! Across +the street and back the hunted creature strode, not groping as +other men were groping in that gloom, but driven forward as +though the faithful George behind wielded a knout; and this chase +after a haunted man began to have for George the strangest +fascination. + +But it was now that the affair developed in a way which ever +afterwards caused it to remain green in his mind. Brought to a +stand-still in the fog, he heard words which threw a sudden light +on these proceedings. What Mrs. Soames had said to Bosinney in +the train was now no longer dark. George understood from those +mutterings that Soames had exercised his rights over an estranged +and unwilling wife in the greatest--the supreme act of property. + +His fancy wandered in the fields of this situation; it impressed +him; he guessed something of the anguish, the sexual confusion +and horror in Bosinney's heart. And he thought: 'Yes, it's a bit +thick! I don't wonder the poor fellow is half-cracked!' + +He had run his quarry to earth on a bench under one of the lions +in Trafalgar Square, a monster sphynx astray like themselves in +that gulf of darkness. Here, rigid and silent, sat Bosinney, and +George, in whose patience was a touch of strange brotherliness, +took his stand behind. He was not lacking in a certain delicacy- +-a sense of form--that did not permit him to intrude upon this +tragedy, and he waited, quiet as the lion above, his fur collar +hitched above his ears concealing the fleshy redness of his +cheeks, concealing all but his eyes with their sardonic, +compassionate stare. And men kept passing back from business on +the way to their clubs--men whose figures shrouded in cocoons of +fog came into view like spectres, and like spectres vanished. +Then even in his compassion George's Quilpish humour broke forth +in a sudden longing to pluck these spectres by the sleeve, and +say: + +"Hi, you Johnnies! You don't often see a show like this! Here's +a poor devil whose mistress has just been telling him a pretty +little story of her husband; walk up, walk up! He's taken the +knock, you see." + +In fancy he saw them gaping round the tortured lover; and grinned +as he thought of some respectable, newly-married spectre enabled +by the state of his own affections to catch an inkling of what +was going on within Bosinney; he fancied he could see his mouth +getting wider and wider, and the fog going down and down. For in +George was all that contempt of the of the married middle-class-- +peculiar to the wild and sportsmanlike spirits in its ranks. + +But he began to be bored. Waiting was not what he had bargained +for. + +'After all,' he thought, 'the poor chap will get over it; not the +first time such a thing has happened in this little city!' But +now his quarry again began muttering words of violent hate and +anger. And following a sudden impulse George touched him on the +shoulder. + +Bosinney spun round. + +"Who are you? What do you want?" + +George could have stood it well enough in the light of the gas +lamps, in the light of that everyday world of which he was so +hardy a connoisseur; but in this fog, where all was gloomy and +unreal, where nothing had that matter-of-fact value associated by +Forsytes with earth, he was a victim to strange qualms, and as he +tried to stare back into the eyes of this maniac, he thought: + +'If I see a bobby, I'll hand him over; he's not fit to be at +large.' + +But waiting for no answer, Bosinney strode off into the fog, and +George followed, keeping perhaps a little further off, yet more +than ever set on tracking him down. + +'He can't go on long like this,' he thought. 'It's God's own +miracle he's not been run over already.' He brooded no more on +policemen, a sportsman's sacred fire alive again within him. + +Into a denser gloom than ever Bosinney held on at a furious pace; +but his pursuer perceived more method in his madness--he was +clearly making his way westwards. + +'He's really going for Soames!' thought George. The idea was +attractive. It would be a sporting end to such a chase. He had +always disliked his cousin. + +The shaft of a passing cab brushed against his shoulder and made +him leap aside. He did not intend to be killed for the Buccaneer, +or anyone. Yet, with hereditary tenacity, he stuck to the trail +through vapour that blotted out everything but the shadow of the +hunted man and the dim moon of the nearest lamp. + +Then suddenly, with the instinct of a town-stroller, George knew +himself to be in Piccadilly. Here he could find his way blindfold; +and freed from the strain of geographical uncertainty, his mind +returned to Bosinney's trouble. + +Down the long avenue of his man-about-town experience, bursting, +as it were, through a smirch of doubtful amours, there stalked to +him a memory of his youth. A memory, poignant still, that brought +the scent of hay, the gleam of moonlight, a summer magic, into +the reek and blackness of this London fog--the memory of a night +when in the darkest shadow of a lawn he had overheard from a +woman's lips that he was not her sole possessor. And for a moment +George walked no longer in black Piccadilly, but lay again, with +hell in his heart, and his face to the sweet-smelling, dewy grass, +in the long shadow of poplars that hid the moon. + +A longing seized him to throw his arm round the Buccaneer, and +say, "Come, old boy. Time cures all. Let's go and drink it off!" + +But a voice yelled at him, and he started back. A cab rolled out +of blackness, and into blackness disappeared. And suddenly +George perceived that he had lost Bosinney. He ran forward and +back, felt his heart clutched by a sickening fear, the dark fear +which lives in the wings of the fog. Perspiration started out on +his brow. He stood quite still, listening with all his might. + +"And then," as he confided to Dartie the same evening in the +course of a game of billiards at the Red Pottle, "I lost him." + +Dartie twirled complacently at his dark moustache. He had just +put together a neat break of twenty-three,--failing at a 'Jenny.' +"And who was she?" he asked. + +George looked slowly at the 'man of the world's' fattish, sallow +face, and a little grim smile lurked about the curves of his +cheeks and his heavy-lidded eyes. + +'No, no, my fine fellow,' he thought, 'I'm not going to tell +you.' For though he mixed with Dartie a good deal, he thought him +a bit of a cad. + +"Oh, some little love-lady or other," he said, and chalked his +cue. + +"A love-lady!" exclaimed Dartie--he used a more figurative +expression. "I made sure it was our friend Soa...." + +"Did you?" said George curtly. "Then damme you've made an +error." + +He missed his shot. He was careful not to allude to the subject +again till, towards eleven o'clock, having, in his poetic +phraseology, 'looked upon the drink when it was yellow,' he drew +aside the blind, and gazed out into the street. The murky +blackness of the fog was but faintly broken by the lamps of the +'Red Pottle,' and no shape of mortal man or thing was in sight. + +"I can't help thinking of that poor Buccaneer," he said. "He may +be wandering out there now in that fog. If he's not a corpse," +he added with strange dejection. + +"Corpse!" said Dartie, in whom the recollection of his defeat at +Richmond flared up. "He's all right. Ten to one if he wasn't +tight!" + +George turned on him, looking really formidable, with a sort of +savage gloom on his big face. + +"Dry up!" he said. "Don't I tell you he's 'taken the knock!"' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TRIAL + + +In the morning of his case, which was second in the list, Soames +was again obliged to start without seeing Irene, and it was just +as well, for he had not as yet made up his mind what attitude to +adopt towards her. + +He had been requested to be in court by half-past ten, to provide +against the event of the first action (a breach of promise) +collapsing, which however it did not, both sides showing a +courage that afforded Waterbuck, Q.C., an opportunity for +improving his already great reputation in this class of case. He +was opposed by Ram, the other celebrated breach of promise man. +It was a battle of giants. + +The court delivered judgment just before the luncheon interval. +The jury left the box for good, and Soames went out to get +something to eat. He met James standing at the little luncheon- +bar, like a pelican in the wilderness of the galleries, bent over +a sandwich with a glass of sherry before him. The spacious +emptiness of the great central hall, over which father and son +brooded as they stood together, was marred now and then for a +fleeting moment by barristers in wig and gown hurriedly bolting +across, by an occasional old lady or rusty-coated man, looking up +in a frightened way, and by two persons, bolder than their +generation, seated in an embrasure arguing. The sound of their +voices arose, together with a scent as of neglected wells, which, +mingling with the odour of the galleries, combined to form the +savour, like nothing but the emanation of a refined cheese, so +indissolubly connected with the administration of British +Justice. + +It was not long before James addressed his son. + +"When's your case coming on? I suppose it'll be on directly. I +shouldn't wonder if this Bosinney'd say anything; I should think +he'd have to. He'll go bankrupt if it goes against him." He took +a large bite at his sandwich and a mouthful of sherry. "Your +mother," he said, "wants you and Irene to come and dine +to-night." + +A chill smile played round Soames' lips; he looked back at his +father. Anyone who had seen the look, cold and furtive, thus +interchanged, might have been pardoned for not appreciating the +real understanding between them. James finished his sherry at a +draught. + +"How much?" he asked. + +On returning to the court Soames took at once his rightful seat +on the front bench beside his solicitor. He ascertained where +his father was seated with a glance so sidelong as to commit +nobody. + +James, sitting back with his hands clasped over the handle of his +umbrella, was brooding on the end of the bench immediately behind +counsel, whence he could get away at once when the case was over. +He considered Bosinney's conduct in every way outrageous, but he +did not wish to run up against him, feeling that the meeting +would be awkward. + +Next to the Divorce Court, this court was, perhaps, the favourite +emporium of justice, libel, breach of promise, and other +commercial actions being frequently decided there. Quite a +sprinkling of persons unconnected with the law occupied the back +benches, and the hat of a woman or two could be seen in the +gallery. + +The two rows of seats immediately in front of James were +gradually filled by barristers in wigs, who sat down to make +pencil notes, chat, and attend to their teeth; but his interest +was soon diverted from these lesser lights of justice by the +entrance of Waterbuck, Q.C., with the wings of his silk gown +rustling, and his red, capable face supported by two short, brown +whiskers. The famous Q.C. looked, as James freely admitted, the +very picture of a man who could heckle a witness. + +For all his experience, it so happened that he had never seen +Waterbuck, Q.C., before, and, like many Forsytes in the lower +branch of the profession, he had an extreme admiration for a good +cross-examiner. The long, lugubrious folds in his cheeks relaxed +somewhat after seeing him, especially as he now perceived that +Soames alone was represented by silk. + +Waterbuck, Q.C., had barely screwed round on his elbow to chat +with his Junior before Mr. Justice Bentham himself appeared--a +thin, rather hen-like man, with a little stoop, clean-shaven +under his snowy wig. Like all the rest of the court, Waterbuck +rose, and remained on his feet until the judge was seated. James +rose but slightly; he was already comfortable, and had no opinion +of Bentham, having sat next but one to him at dinner twice at the +Bumley Tomms'. Bumley Tomm was rather a poor thing, though he +had been so successful. James himself had given him his first +brief. He was excited, too, for he had just found out that +Bosinney was not in court. + +'Now, what's he mean by that?' he kept on thinking. + +The case having been called on, Waterbuck, Q.C., pushing back his +papers, hitched his gown on his shoulder, and, with a +semi-circular look around him, like a man who is going to bat, +arose and addressed the Court. + +The facts, he said, were not in dispute, and all that his +Lordship would be asked was to interpret the correspondence which +had taken place between his client and the defendant, an +architect, with reference to the decoration of a house. He +would, however, submit that this correspondence could only mean +one very plain thing. After briefly reciting the history of the +house at Robin Hill, which he described as a mansion, and the +actual facts of expenditure, he went on as follows: + +"My client, Mr. Soames Forsyte, is a gentleman, a man of +property, who would be the last to dispute any legitimate claim +that might be made against him, but he has met with such +treatment from his architect in the matter of this house, over +which he has, as your lordship has heard, already spent some +twelve--some twelve thousand pounds, a sum considerably in +advance of the amount he had originally contemplated, that as a +matter of principle--and this I cannot too strongly emphasize--as +a matter of principle, and in the interests of others, he has +felt himself compelled to bring this action. The point put +forward in defence by the architect I will suggest to your +lordship is not worthy of a moment's serious consideration." He +then read the correspondence. + +His client, "a man of recognised position," was prepared to go +into the box, and to swear that he never did authorize, that it +was never in his mind to authorize, the expenditure of any money +beyond the extreme limit of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +which he had clearly fixed; and not further to waste the time of +the court, he would at once call Mr. Forsyte. + +Soames then went into the box. His whole appearance was striking +in its composure. His face, just supercilious enough, pale and +clean-shaven, with a little line between the eyes, and compressed +lips; his dress in unostentatious order, one hand neatly gloved, +the other bare. He answered the questions put to him in a +somewhat low, but distinct voice. His evidence under cross- +examination savoured of taciturnity. + +Had he not used the expression, "a free hand"? No. + +"Come, come!" + +The expression he had used was 'a free hand in the terms of this +correspondence.' + +"Would you tell the Court that that was English?" + +"Yes!" + +"What do you say it means?" + +"What it says!" + +"Are you prepared to deny that it is a contradiction in terms?" + +"Yes." + +"You are not an Irishman?" + +"No." + +"Are you a well-educated man?" + +"Yes." + +"And yet you persist in that statement?" + +"Yes." + +Throughout this and much more cross-examination, which turned +again and again around the 'nice point,' James sat with his hand +behind his ear, his eyes fixed upon his son. + +He was proud of him! He could not but feel that in similar +circumstances he himself would have been tempted to enlarge his +replies, but his instinct told him that this taciturnity was the +very thing. He sighed with relief, however, when Soames, slowly +turning, and without any change of expression, descended from the +box. + +When it came to the turn of Bosinney's Counsel to address the +Judge, James redoubled his attention, and he searched the Court +again and again to see if Bosinney were not somewhere concealed. + +Young Chankery began nervously; he was placed by Bosinney's +absence in an awkward position. He therefore did his best to +turn that absence to account. + +He could not but fear--he said--that his client had met with an +accident. He had fully expected him there to give evidence; they +had sent round that morning both to Mr. Bosinney's office and to +his rooms (though he knew they were one and the same, he thought +it was as well not to say so), but it was not known where he was, +and this he considered to be ominous, knowing how anxious Mr. +Bosinney had been to give his evidence. He had not, however, +been instructed to apply for an adjournment, and in default of +such instruction he conceived it his duty to go on. The plea on +which he somewhat confidently relied, and which his client, had +he not unfortunately been prevented in some way from attending, +would have supported by his evidence, was that such an expression +as a 'free hand' could not be limited, fettered, and rendered +unmeaning, by any verbiage which might follow it. He would go +further and say that the correspondence showed that whatever he +might have said in his evidence, Mr. Forsyte had in fact never +contemplated repudiating liability on any of the work ordered or +executed by his architect. The defendant had certainly never +contemplated such a contingency, or, as was demonstrated by his +letters, he would never have proceeded with the work--a work of +extreme delicacy, carried out with great care and efficiency, to +meet and satisfy the fastidious taste of a connoisseur, a rich +man, a man of property. He felt strongly on this point, and +feeling strongly he used, perhaps, rather strong words when he +said that this action was of a most unjustifiable, unexpected, +indeed--unprecedented character. If his Lordship had had the +opportunity that he himself had made it his duty to take, to go +over this very fine house and see the great delicacy and beauty +of the decorations executed by his client--an artist in his most +honourable profession--he felt convinced that not for one moment +would his Lordship tolerate this, he would use no stronger word +than daring attempt to evade legitimate responsibility. + +Taking the text of Soames' letters, he lightly touched on +'Boileau v. The Blasted Cement Company, Limited.' "It is +doubtful," he said, "what that authority has decided; in any case +I would submit that it is just as much in my favour as in my +friend's." He then argued the 'nice point' closely. With all +due deference he submitted that Mr. Forsyte's expression +nullified itself. His client not being a rich man, the matter +was a serious one for him; he was a very talented architect, +whose professional reputation was undoubtedly somewhat at stake. +He concluded with a perhaps too personal appeal to the Judge, as +a lover of the arts, to show himself the protector of artists, +from what was occasionally--he said occasionally--the too iron +hand of capital. "What," he said, "will be the position of the +artistic professions, if men of property like this Mr. Forsyte +refuse, and are allowed to refuse, to carry out the obligations +of the commissions which they have given." He would now call +his client, in case he should at the last moment have found +himself able to be present. + +The name Philip Baynes Bosinney was called three times by the +Ushers, and the sound of the calling echoed with strange +melancholy throughout the Court and Galleries. + +The crying of this name, to which no answer was returned, had +upon James a curious effect: it was like calling for your lost +dog about the streets. And the creepy feeling that it gave him, +of a man missing, grated on his sense of comfort and security-on +his cosiness. Though he could not have said why, it made him +feel uneasy. + +He looked now at the clock--a quarter to three! It would be all +over in a quarter of an hour. Where could the young fellow be? + +It was only when Mr. Justice Bentham delivered judgment that he +got over the turn he had received. + +Behind the wooden erection, by which he was fenced from more +ordinary mortals, the learned Judge leaned forward. The electric +light, just turned on above his head, fell on his face, and +mellowed it to an orange hue beneath the snowy crown of his wig; +the amplitude of his robes grew before the eye; his whole figure, +facing the comparative dusk of the Court, radiated like some +majestic and sacred body. He cleared his throat, took a sip of +water, broke the nib of a quill against the desk, and, folding +his bony hands before him, began. + +To James he suddenly loomed much larger than he had ever thought +Bentham would loom. It was the majesty of the law; and a person +endowed with a nature far less matter-of-fact than that of James +might have been excused for failing to pierce this halo, and +disinter therefrom the somewhat ordinary Forsyte, who walked and +talked in every-day life under the name of Sir Walter Bentham. + +He delivered judgment in the following words: + +"The facts in this case are not in dispute. On May 15 last the +defendant wrote to the plaintiff, requesting to be allowed to +withdraw from his professional position in regard to the +decoration of the plaintiff's house, unless he were given 'a free +hand.' The plaintiff, on May 17, wrote back as follows: 'In +giving you, in accordance with your request, this free hand, I +wish you to clearly understand that the total cost of the house +as handed over to me completely decorated, inclusive of your fee +(as arranged between us) must not exceed twelve thousand pounds.' +To this letter the defendant replied on May 18: 'If you think +that in such a delicate matter as decoration I can bind myself to +the exact pound, I am afraid you are mistaken.' On May 19 the +plaintiff wrote as follows: 'I did not mean to say that if you +should exceed the sum named in my letter to you by ten or twenty +or even fifty pounds there would be any difficulty between us. +You have a free hand in the terms of this correspondence, and I +hope you will see your way to completing the decorations.' On +May 20 the defendant replied thus shortly: 'Very well.' + +"In completing these decorations, the defendant incurred +liabilities and expenses which brought the total cost of this +house up to the sum of twelve thousand four hundred pounds, all +of which expenditure has been defrayed by the plaintiff. This +action has been brought by the plaintiff to recover from the +defendant the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds expended by +him in excess of a sum of twelve thousand and fifty pounds, +alleged by the plaintiff to have been fixed by this +correspondence as the maximum sum that the defendant had +authority to expend. + +"The question for me to decide is whether or no the defendant is +liable to refund to the plaintiff this sum. In my judgment he is +so liable. + +"What in effect the plaintiff has said is this 'I give you a free +hand to complete these decorations, provided that you keep within +a total cost to me of twelve thousand pounds. If you exceed that +sum by as much as fifty pounds, I will not hold you responsible; +beyond that point you are no agent of mine, and I shall repudiate +liability.' It is not quite clear to me whether, had the +plaintiff in fact repudiated liability under his agent's +contracts, he would, under all the circumstances, have been +successful in so doing; but he has not adopted this course. He +has accepted liability, and fallen back upon his rights against +the defendant under the terms of the latter's engagement. + +"In my judgment the plaintiff is entitled to recover this sum +from the defendant. + +"It has been sought, on behalf of the defendant, to show that no +limit of expenditure was fixed or intended to be fixed by this +correspondence. If this were so, I can find no reason for the +plaintiff's importation into the correspondence of the figures of +twelve thousand pounds and subsequently of fifty pounds. The +defendant's contention would render these figures meaningless. +It is manifest to me that by his letter of May 20 he assented to +a very clear proposition, by the terms of which he must be held +to be bound. + +"For these reasons there will be judgment for the plaintiff for +the amount claimed with costs." + +James sighed, and stooping, picked up his umbrella which had +fallen with a rattle at the words 'importation into this +correspondence.' + +Untangling his legs, he rapidly left the Court; without waiting +for his son, he snapped up a hansom cab (it was a clear, grey +afternoon) and drove straight to Timothy's where he found +Swithin; and to him, Mrs. Septimus Small, and Aunt Hester, he +recounted the whole proceedings, eating two muffins not +altogether in the intervals of speech. + +"Soames did very well," he ended; "he's got his head screwed on +the right way. This won't please Jolyon. It's a bad business +for that young Bosinney; he'll go bankrupt, I shouldn't wonder," +and then after a long pause, during which he had stared +disquietly into the fire, he added + +"He wasn't there--now why?" + +There was a sound of footsteps. The figure of a thick-set man, +with the ruddy brown face of robust health, was seen in the back +drawing-room. The forefinger of his upraised hand was outlined +against the black of his frock coat. He spoke in a grudging +voice. + +"Well, James," he said, "I can't--I can't stop," and turning +round, he walked out. + +It was Timothy. + +James rose from his chair. "There!" he said, "there! I knew +there was something wro...." He checked himself, and was silent, +staring before him, as though he had seen a portent. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SOAMES BREAKS THE NEWS + + +In leaving the Court Soames did not go straight home. He felt +disinclined for the City, and drawn by need for sympathy in his +triumph, he, too, made his way, but slowly and on foot, to +Timothy's in the Bayswater Road. + +His father had just left; Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester, in +possession of the whole story, greeted him warmly. They were +sure he was hungry after all that evidence. Smither should toast +him some more muffins, his dear father had eaten them all. He +must put his legs up on the sofa; and he must have a glass of +prune brandy too. It was so strengthening. + +Swithin was still present, having lingered later than his wont, +for he felt in want of exercise. On hearing this suggestion, he +'pished.' A pretty pass young men were coming to! His own liver +was out of order, and he could not bear the thought of anyone +else drinking prune brandy. + +He went away almost immediately, saying to Soames: "And how's +your wife? You tell her from me that if she's dull, and likes to +come and dine with me quietly, I'll give her such a bottle of +champagne as she doesn't get every day." Staring down from his +height on Soames he contracted his thick, puffy, yellow hand as +though squeezing within it all this small fry, and throwing out +his chest he waddled slowly away. + +Mrs. Small and Aunt Hester were left horrified. Swithin was so +droll! + +They themselves were longing to ask Soames how Irene would take +the result, yet knew that they must not; he would perhaps say +something of his own accord, to throw some light on this, the +present burning question in their lives, the question that from +necessity of silence tortured them almost beyond bearing; for +even Timothy had now been told, and the effect on his health was +little short of alarming. And what, too, would June do? This, +also, was a most exciting, if dangerous speculation! + +They had never forgotten old Jolyon's visit, since when he had +not once been to see them; they had never forgotten the feeling +it gave all who were present, that the family was no longer what +it had been--that the family was breaking up. + +But Soames gave them no help, sitting with his knees crossed, +talking of the Barbizon school of painters, whom he had just +discovered. These were the coming men, he said; he should not +wonder if a lot of money were made over them; he had his eye on +two pictures by a man called Corot, charming things; if he could +get them at a reasonable price he was going to buy them--they +would, he thought, fetch a big price some day. + +Interested as they could not but be, neither Mrs. Septimus Small +nor Aunt Hester could entirely acquiesce in being thus put off. + +It was interesting--most interesting--and then Soames was so +clever that they were sure he would do something with those +pictures if anybody could; but what was his plan now that he had +won his case; was he going to leave London at once, and live in +the country, or what was he going to do? + +Soames answered that he did not know, he thought they should be +moving soon. He rose and kissed his aunts. + +No sooner had Aunt Juley received this emblem of departure than a +change came over her, as though she were being visited by +dreadful courage; every little roll of flesh on her face seemed +trying to escape from an invisible, confining mask. + +She rose to the full extent of her more than medium height, and +said: "It has been on my mind a long time, dear, and if nobody +else will tell you, I have made up my mind that...." + +Aunt Hester interrupted her: "Mind, Julia, you do it...." she +gasped--"on your own responsibility!" + +Mrs. Small went on as though she had not heard: "I think you +ought to know, dear, that Mrs. MacAnder saw Irene walking in +Richmond Park with Mr. Bosinney." + +Aunt Hester, who had also risen, sank back in her chair, and +turned her face away. Really Juley was too--she should not do +such things when she--Aunt Hester, was in the room; and, +breathless with anticipation, she waited for what Soames would +answer. + +He had flushed the peculiar flush which always centred between +his eyes; lifting his hand, and, as it were, selecting a finger, +he bit a nail delicately; then, drawling it out between set lips, +he said: "Mrs. MacAnder is a cat!" + +Without waiting for any reply, he left the room. + +When he went into Timothy's he had made up his mind what course +to pursue on getting home. He would go up to Irene and say: + +"Well, I've won my case, and there's an end of it! I don't want +to be hard on Bosinney; I'll see if we can't come to some +arrangement; he shan't be pressed. And now let's turn over a +new leaf! We'll let the house, and get out of these fogs. We'll +go down to Robin Hill at once. I--I never meant to be rough with +you! Let's shake hands--and--" Perhaps she would let him kiss +her, and forget! + +When he came out of Timothy's his intentions were no longer so +simple. The smouldering jealousy and suspicion of months blazed +up within him. He would put an end to that sort of thing once +and for all; he would not have her drag his name in the dirt! If +she could not or would not love him, as was her duty and his +right--she should not play him tricks with anyone else! He would +tax her with it; threaten to divorce her! That would make her +behave; she would never face that. But--but--what if she did? +He was staggered; this had not occurred to him. + +What if she did? What if she made him a confession? How would +he stand then? He would have to bring a divorce! + +A divorce! Thus close, the word was paralyzing, so utterly at +variance with all the principles that had hitherto guided his +life. Its lack of compromise appalled him; he felt--like the +captain of a ship, going to the side of his vessel, and, with his +own hands throwing over the most precious of his bales. This +jettisoning of his property with his own hand seemed uncanny to +Soames. It would injure him in his profession: He would have to +get rid of the house at Robin Hill, on which he had spent so much +money, so much anticipation--and at a sacrifice. And she! She +would no longer belong to him, not even in name! She would pass +out of his life, and he--he should never see her again! + +He traversed in the cab the length of a street without getting +beyond the thought that he should never see her again! + +But perhaps there was nothing to confess, even now very likely +there was nothing to confess. Was it wise to push things so far? +Was it wise to put himself into a position where he might have to +eat his words? The result of this case would ruin Bosinney; a +ruined man was desperate, but--what could he do? He might go +abroad, ruined men always went abroad. What could they do--if +indeed it was 'they'--without money? It would be better to wait +and see how things turned out. If necessary, he could have her +watched. The agony of his jealousy (for all the world like the +crisis of an aching tooth) came on again; and he almost cried +out. But he must decide, fix on some course of action before he +got home. When the cab drew up at the door, he had decided +nothing. + +He entered, pale, his hands moist with perspiration, dreading to +meet her, burning to meet her, ignorant of what he was to say or +do. + +The maid Bilson was in the hall, and in answer to his question: +"Where is your mistress?" told him that Mrs. Forsyte had left the +house about noon, taking with her a trunk and bag. + +Snatching the sleeve of his fur coat away from her grasp, he +confronted her: + +"What?" he exclaimed; "what's that you said?" Suddenly +recollecting that he must not betray emotion, he added: "What +message did she leave?" and noticed with secret terror the +startled look of the maid's eyes. + +"Mrs. Forsyte left no message, sir." + +"No message; very well, thank you, that will do. I shall be +dining out." + +The maid went downstairs, leaving him still in his fur coat, idly +turning over the visiting cards in the porcelain bowl that stood +on the carved oak rug chest in the hall. + +Mr. and Mrs. Bareham Culcher. +Mrs. Septimus Small. +Mrs. Baynes. +Mr. Solomon Thornworthy. +Lady Bellis. +Miss Hermione Bellis. +Miss Winifred Bellis. +Miss Ella Bellis. + +Who the devil were all these people? He seemed to have forgotten +all familiar things. The words 'no message--a trunk, and a bag,' +played a hide-and-seek in his brain. It was incredible that she +had left no message, and, still in his fur coat, he ran upstairs +two steps at a time, as a young married man when he comes home +will run up to his wife's room. + +Everything was dainty, fresh, sweet-smelling; everything in +perfect order. On the great bed with its lilac silk quilt, was +the bag she had made and embroidered with her own hands to hold +her sleeping things; her slippers ready at the foot; the sheets +even turned over at the head as though expecting her. + +On the table stood the silver-mounted brushes and bottles from +her dressing bag, his own present. There must, then, be some +mistake. What bag had she taken? He went to the bell to summon +Bilson, but remembered in time that he must assume knowledge of +where Irene had gone, take it all as a matter of course, and +grope out the meaning for himself. + +He locked the doors, and tried to think, but felt his brain going +round; and suddenly tears forced themselves into his eyes. + +Hurriedly pulling off his coat, he looked at himself in the +mirror. + +He was too pale, a greyish tinge all over his face; he poured out +water, and began feverishly washing. + +Her silver-mounted brushes smelt faintly of the perfumed lotion +she used for her hair; and at this scent the burning sickness of +his jealousy seized him again. + +Struggling into his fur, he ran downstairs and out into the +street. + +He had not lost all command of himself, however, and as he went +down Sloane Street he framed a story for use, in case he should +not find her at Bosinney's. But if he should? His power of +decision again failed; he reached the house without knowing what +he should do if he did find her there. + +It was after office hours, and the street door was closed; the +woman who opened it could not say whether Mr. Bosinney were in or +no; she had not seen him that day, not for two or three days; she +did not attend to him now, nobody attended to him, he.... + +Soames interrupted her, he would go up and see for himself. He +went up with a dogged, white face. + +The top floor was unlighted, the door closed, no one answered his +ringing, he could hear no sound. He was obliged to descend, +shivering under his fur, a chill at his heart. Hailing a cab, he +told the man to drive to Park Lane. + +On the way he tried to recollect when he had last given her a +cheque; she could not have more than three or four pounds, but +there were her jewels; and with exquisite torture he remembered +how much money she could raise on these; enough to take them +abroad; enough for them to live on for months! He tried to +calculate; the cab stopped, and he got out with the calculation +unmade. + +The butler asked whether Mrs. Soames was in the cab, the master +had told him they were both expected to dinner. + +Soames answered: "No. Mrs. Forsyte has a cold." + +The butler was sorry. + +Soames thought he was looking at him inquisitively, and +remembering that he was not in dress clothes, asked: "Anybody +here to dinner, Warmson?" + +"Nobody but Mr. and Mrs. Dartie, sir." + +Again it seemed to Soames that the butler was looking curiously +at him. His composure gave way. + +"What are you looking at?" he said. "What's the matter with me, +eh?" + +The butler blushed, hung up the fur coat, murmured something that +sounded like: "Nothing, sir, I'm sure, sir," and stealthily +withdrew. + +Soames walked upstairs. Passing the drawing-room without a look, +he went straight up to his mother's and father's bedroom. + +James, standing sideways, the concave lines of his tall, lean +figure displayed to advantage in shirt-sleeves and evening +waistcoat, his head bent, the end of his white tie peeping askew +from underneath one white Dundreary whisker, his eyes peering +with intense concentration, his lips pouting, was hooking the top +hooks of his wife's bodice. Soames stopped; he felt half-choked, +whether because he had come upstairs too fast, or for some other +reason. He--he himself had never--never been asked to.... + +He heard his father's voice, as though there were a pin in his +mouth, saying: "Who's that? Who's there? What d'you want?" His +mother's: "Here, Felice, come and hook this; your master'll never +get done." + +He put his hand up to his throat, and said hoarsely: + +"It's I--Soames!" + +He noticed gratefully the affectionate surprise in Emily's: +"Well, my dear boy?" and James', as he dropped the hook: "What, +Soames! What's brought you up? Aren't you well?" + +He answered mechanically: "I'm all right," and looked at them, +and it seemed impossible to bring out his news. + +James, quick to take alarm, began: "You don't look well. I +expect you've taken a chill--it's liver, I shouldn't wonder. +Your mother'll give you...." + +But Emily broke in quietly: "Have you brought Irene?" + +Soames shook his head. + +"No," he stammered, "she--she's left me!" + +Emily deserted the mirror before which she was standing. Her +tall, full figure lost its majesty and became very human as she +came running over to Soames. + +"My dear boy! My dear boy!" + +She put her lips to his forehead, and stroked his hand. + +James, too, had turned full towards his son; his face looked +older. + +"Left you?" he said. "What d'you mean--left you? You never told +me she was going to leave you." + +Soames answered surlily: "How could I tell? What's to be done?" + +James began walking up and down; he looked strange and stork-like +without a coat. "What's to be done!" he muttered. "How should I +know what's to be done? What's the good of asking me? Nobody +tells me anything, and then they come and ask me what's to be +done; and I should like to know how I'm to tell them! Here's +your mother, there she stands; she doesn't say anything. What I +should say you've got to do is to follow her.." + +Soames smiled; his peculiar, supercilious smile had never before +looked pitiable. + +"I don't know where she's gone," he said. + +"Don't know where she's gone!" said James. "How d'you mean, +don't know where she's gone? Where d'you suppose she's gone? +She's gone after that young Bosinney, that's where she's gone. I +knew how it would be." + +Soames, in the long silence that followed, felt his mother +pressing his hand. And all that passed seemed to pass as though +his own power of thinking or doing had gone to sleep. + +His father's face, dusky red, twitching as if he were going to +cry, and words breaking out that seemed rent from him by some +spasm in his soul. + +"There'll be a scandal; I always said so." Then, no one saying +anything: "And there you stand, you and your mother!" + +And Emily's voice, calm, rather contemptuous: "Come, now, James! +Soames will do all that he can." + +And James, staring at the floor, a little brokenly: "Well, I +can't help you; I'm getting old. Don't you be in too great a +hurry, my boy." + +And his mother's voice again: "Soames will do all he can to get +her back. We won't talk of it. It'll all come right, I dare +say." + +And James: "Well, I can't see how it can come right. And if she +hasn't gone off with that young Bosinney, my advice to you is not +to listen to her, but to follow her and get her back." + +Once more Soames felt his mother stroking his hand, in token of +her approval, and as though repeating some form of sacred oath, +he muttered between his teeth: "I will!" + +All three went down to the drawing-room together. There, were +gathered the three girls and Dartie; had Irene been present, the +family circle would have been complete. + +James sank into his armchair, and except for a word of cold +greeting to Dartie, whom he both despised and dreaded, as a man +likely to be always in want of money, he said nothing till dinner +was announced. Soames, too, was silent; Emily alone, a woman of +cool courage, maintained a conversation with Winifred on trivial +subjects. She was never more composed in her manner and +conversation than that evening. + +A decision having been come to not to speak of Irene's flight, no +view was expressed by any other member of the family as to the +right course to be pursued; there can be little doubt, from the +general tone adopted in relation to events as they afterwards +turned out, that James's advice: "Don't you listen to her, +follow-her and get her back!" would, with here and there an +exception, have been regarded as sound, not only in Park Lane, +but amongst the Nicholases, the Rogers, and at Timothy's. Just +as it would surely have been endorsed by that wider body of +Forsytes all over London, who were merely excluded from judgment +by ignorance of the story. + +In spite then of Emily's efforts, the dinner was served by +Warmson and the footman almost in silence. Dartie was sulky, and +drank all he could get; the girls seldom talked to each other at +any time. James asked once where June was, and what she was +doing with herself in these days. No one could tell him. He +sank back into gloom. Only when Winifred recounted how little +Publius had given his bad penny to a beggar, did he brighten up. + +"Ah!" he said, "that's a clever little chap. I don't know +what'll become of him, if he goes on like this. An intelligent +little chap, I call him!" But it was only a flash. + +The courses succeeded one another solemnly, under the electric +light, which glared down onto the table, but barely reached the +principal ornament of the walls, a so-called 'Sea Piece by +Turner,' almost entirely composed of cordage and drowning men. + +Champagne was handed, and then a bottle of James' prehistoric +port, but as by the chill hand of some skeleton. + +At ten o'clock Soames left; twice in reply to questions, he had +said that Irene was not well; he felt he could no longer trust +himself. His mother kissed him with her large soft kiss, and he +pressed her hand, a flush of warmth in his cheeks. He walked +away in the cold wind, which whistled desolately round the +corners of the streets, under a sky of clear steel-blue, alive +with stars; he noticed neither their frosty greeting, nor the +crackle of the curled-up plane-leaves, nor the night-women +hurrying in their shabby furs, nor the pinched faces of vagabonds +at street corners. Winter was come! But Soames hastened home, +oblivious; his hands trembled as he took the late letters from +the gilt wire cage into which they had been thrust through the +slit in the door.' + +None from Irene! + +He went into the dining-room; the fire was bright there, his +chair drawn up to it, slippers ready, spirit case, and carven +cigarette box on the table; but after staring at it all for a +minute or two, he turned out the light and went upstairs. +There was a fire too in his dressing-room, but her room was +dark and cold. It was into this room that Soames went. + +He made a great illumination with candles, and for a long time +continued pacing up and down between the bed and the door. He +could not get used to the thought that she had really left him, +and as though still searching for some message, some reason, some +reading of all the mystery of his married life, he began opening +every recess and drawer. + +There were her dresses; he had always liked, indeed insisted, +that she should be well-dressed--she had taken very few; two or +three at most, and drawer after drawer; full of linen and silk +things, was untouched. + +Perhaps after all it was only a freak, and she had gone to the +seaside for a few days' change. If only that were so, and she +were really coming back, he would never again do as he had done +that fatal night before last, never again run that risk--though +it was her duty, her duty as a wife; though she did belong to +him--he would never again run that risk; she was evidently not +quite right in her head! + +He stooped over the drawer where she kept her jewels; it was not +locked, and came open as he pulled; the jewel box had the key in +it. This surprised him until he remembered that it was sure to +be empty. He opened it. + +It was far from empty. Divided, in little green velvet +compartments, were all the things he had given her, even her +watch, and stuck into the recess that contained--the watch was a +three-cornered note addressed 'Soames Forsyte,' in Irene's +handwriting: + +'I think I have taken nothing that you or your people have given +me.' And that was all. + +He looked at the clasps and bracelets of diamonds and pearls, at +the little flat gold watch with a great diamond set in sapphires, +at the chains and rings, each in its nest, and the tears rushed +up in his eyes and dropped upon them. + +Nothing that she could have done, nothing that she had done, +brought home to him like this the inner significance of her act. +For the moment, perhaps, he understood nearly all there was to +understand--understood that she loathed him, that she had loathed +him for years, that for all intents and purposes they were like +people living in different worlds, that there was no hope for +him, never had been; even, that she had suffered--that she was to +be pitied. + +In that moment of emotion he betrayed the Forsyte in him--forgot +himself, his interests, his property--was capable of almost +anything; was lifted into the pure ether of the selfless and +unpractical. + +Such moments pass quickly. + +And as though with the tears he had purged himself of weakness, +he got up, locked the box, and slowly, almost trembling, carried +it with him into the other room. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JUNE'S VICTORY + + +June had waited for her chance, scanning the duller columns of +the journals, morning and evening with an assiduity which at +first puzzled old Jolyon; and when her chance came, she took it +with all the promptitude and resolute tenacity of her character. + +She will always remember best in her life that morning when at +last she saw amongst the reliable Cause List of the Times +newspaper, under the heading of Court XIII, Mr. Justice Bentham, +the case of Forsyte v. Bosinney. + +Like a gambler who stakes his last piece of money, she had +prepared to hazard her all upon this throw; it was not her nature +to contemplate defeat. How, unless with the instinct of a woman +in love, she knew that Bosinney's discomfiture in this action was +assured, cannot be told--on this assumption, however, she laid +her plans, as upon a certainty. + +Half past eleven found her at watch in the gallery of Court +XIII., and there she remained till the case of Forsyte v. +Bosinney was over. Bosinney's absence did not disquiet her; she +had felt instinctively that he would not defend himself. At the +end of the judgment she hastened down, and took a cab to his +rooms. + +She passed the open street-door and the offices on the three +lower floors without attracting notice; not till she reached the +top did her difficulties begin. + +Her ring was not answered; she had now to make up her mind +whether she would go down and ask the caretaker in the basement +to let her in to await Mr. Bosinney's return, or remain patiently +outside the door, trusting that no one would, come up. She +decided on the latter course. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in freezing vigil on the landing, +before it occurred to her that Bosinney had been used to leave +the key of his rooms under the door-mat. She looked and found it +there. For some minutes she could not decide to make use of it; +at last she let herself in and left the door open that anyone who +came might see she was there on business. + +This was not the same June who had paid the trembling visit five +months ago; those months of suffering and restraint had made her +less sensitive; she had dwelt on this visit so long, with such +minuteness, that its terrors were discounted beforehand. She was +not there to fail this time, for if she failed no one could help +her. + +Like some mother beast on the watch over her young, her little +quick figure never stood still in that room, but wandered from +wall to wall, from window to door, fingering now one thing, now +another. There was dust everywhere, the room could not have been +cleaned for weeks, and June, quick to catch at anything that +should buoy up her hope, saw in it a sign that he had been +obliged, for economy's sake, to give up his servant. + +She looked into the bedroom; the bed was roughly made, as though +by the hand of man. Listening intently, she darted in, and +peered into his cupboards. A few shirts and collars, a pair of +muddy boots--the room was bare even of garments. + +She stole back to the sitting-room, and now she noticed the +absence of all the little things he had set store by. The clock +that had been his mother's, the field-glasses that had hung over +the sofa; two really valuable old prints of Harrow, where his +father had been at school, and last, not least, the piece of +Japanese pottery she herself had given him. All were gone; and +in spite of the rage roused within her championing soul at the +thought that the world should treat him thus, their disappearance +augured happily for the success of her plan. + +It was while looking at the spot where the piece of Japanese +pottery had stood that she felt a strange certainty of being +watched, and, turning, saw Irene in the open doorway. + +The two stood gazing at each other for a minute in silence; then +June walked forward and held out her hand. Irene did not take +it. + +When her hand was refused, June put it behind her. Her eyes grew +steady with anger; she waited for Irene to speak; and thus +waiting, took in, with who-knows-what rage of jealousy, +suspicion, and curiosity, every detail of her friend's face and +dress and figure. + +Irene was clothed in her long grey fur; the travelling cap on her +head left a wave of gold hair visible above her forehead. The +soft fullness of the coat made her face as small as a child's. + +Unlike June's cheeks, her cheeks had no colour in them, but were +ivory white and pinched as if with cold. Dark circles lay round +her eyes. In one hand she held a bunch of violets. + +She looked back at June, no smile on her lips; and with those +great dark eyes fastened on her, the girl, for all her startled +anger, felt something of the old spell. + +She spoke first, after all. + +"What have you come for?" But the feeling that she herself was +being asked the same question, made her add: "This horrible case. +I came to tell him--he has lost it." + +Irene did not speak, her eyes never moved from June's face, and +the girl cried: + +"Don't stand there as if you were made of stone!" + +Irene laughed: "I wish to God I were!" + +But June turned away: "Stop!" she cried, "don't tell me! I don't +want to hear! I don't want to hear what you've come for. I +don't want to hear!" And like some uneasy spirit, she began +swiftly walking to and fro. Suddenly she broke out: + +"I was here first. We can't both stay here together!" + +On Irene's face a smile wandered up, and died out like a flicker +of firelight. She did not move. And then it was that June +perceived under the softness arid immobility of this figure +something desperate and resolved; something not to be turned +away, something dangerous. She tore off her hat, and, putting +both hands to her brow, pressed back the bronze mass of her hair. + +"You have no right here!" she cried defiantly. + +Irene answered: "I have no right anywhere! + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have left Soames. You always wanted me to!" + +June put her hands over her ears. + +"Don't! I don't want to hear anything--I don't want to know +anything. It's impossible to fight with you! What makes you +stand like that? Why don't you go?" + +Irene's lips moved; she seemed to be saying: "Where should I go?" + +June turned to the window. She could see the face of a clock +down in the street. It was nearly four. At any moment he might +come! She looked back across her shoulder, and her face was +distorted with anger. + +But Irene had not moved; in her gloved hands she ceaselessly +turned and twisted the little bunch of violets. + +The tears of rage and disappointment rolled down June's cheeks. + +"How could you come?" she said. "You have been a false friend to +me!" + +Again Irene laughed. June saw that she had played a wrong card, +and broke down. + +"Why have you come?" she sobbed. "You've ruined my life, and now +you want to ruin his!" + +Irene's mouth quivered; her eyes met June's with a look so +mournful that the girl cried out in the midst of her sobbing, +"No, no!" + +But Irene's head bent till it touched her breast. She turned, +and went quickly out, hiding her lips with the little bunch of +violets. + +June ran to the door. She heard the footsteps going down and +down. She called out: "Come back, Irene! Come back!" + +The footsteps died away.... + +Bewildered and torn, the girl stood at the top of the stairs. +Why had Irene gone, leaving her mistress of the field? What did +it mean? Had she really given him up to her? Or had she...? +And she was the prey of a gnawing uncertainty.... Bosinney did +not come.... + +About six o'clock that afternoon old Jolyon returned from +Wistaria Avenue, where now almost every day he spent some hours, +and asked if his grand-daughter were upstairs. On being told +that she had just come in, he sent up to her room to request her +to come down and speak to him. + +He had made up his mind to tell her that he was reconciled with +her father. In future bygones must be bygones. He would no +longer live alone, or practically alone, in this great house; he +was going to give it up, and take one in the country for his son, +where they could all go and live together. If June did not like +this, she could have an allowance and live by herself. It +wouldn't make much difference to her, for it was a long time +since she had shown him any affection. + +But when June came down, her face was pinched and piteous; there +was a strained, pathetic look in her eyes. She snuggled up in +her old attitude on the arm of his chair, and what he said +compared but poorly with the clear, authoritative, injured +statement he had thought out with much care. His heart felt +sore, as the great heart of a mother-bird feels sore when its +youngling flies and bruises its wing. His words halted, as +though he were apologizing for having at last deviated from the +path of virtue, and succumbed, in defiance of sounder principles, +to his more natural instincts. + +He seemed nervous lest, in thus announcing his intentions, he +should be setting his granddaughter a bad example; and now that +he came to the point, his way of putting the suggestion that, if +she didn't like it, she could live by herself and lump it, was +delicate in the extreme.' + +"And if, by any chance, my darling," he said, "you found you +didn't get on--with them, why, I could make that all right. You +could have what you liked. We could find a little flat in London +where you could set up, and I could be running to continually. +But the children," he added, "are dear little things!" + +Then, in the midst of this grave, rather transparent, explanation +of changed policy, his eyes twinkled. "This'll astonish +Timothy's weak nerves. That precious young thing will have +something to say about this, or I'm a Dutchman!" + +June had not yet spoken. Perched thus on the arm of his chair, +with her head above him, her face was invisible. But presently +he felt her warm cheek against his own, and knew that, at all +events, there was nothing very alarming in her attitude towards +his news. He began to take courage. + +"You'll like your father," he said--"an amiable chap. Never was +much push about him, but easy to get on with. You'll find him +artistic and all that." + +And old Jolyon bethought him of the dozen or so water-colour +drawings all carefully locked up in his bedroom; for now that his +son was going to become a man of property he did not think them +quite such poor things as heretofore. + +"As to your--your stepmother," he said, using the word with some +little difficulty, "I call her a refined woman--a bit of a Mrs. +Gummidge, I shouldn't wonder--but very fond of Jo. And the +children," he repeated--indeed, this sentence ran like music +through all his solemn self-justification--"are sweet little +things!" + +If June had known, those words but reincarnated that tender love +for little children, for the young and weak, which in the past +had made him desert his son for her tiny self, and now, as the +cycle rolled, was taking him from her. + +But he began to get alarmed at her silence, and asked +impatiently: "Well, what do you say?" + +June slid down to his knee, and she in her turn began her tale. +She thought it would all go splendidly; she did not see any +difficulty, and she did not care a bit what people thought. + +Old Jolyon wriggled. H'm! then people would think! He had +thought that after all these years perhaps they wouldn't! Well, +he couldn't help it! Nevertheless, he could not approve of his +granddaughter's way of putting it--she ought to mind what people +thought! + +Yet he said nothing. His feelings were too mixed, too +inconsistent for expression. + +No--went on June he did not care; what business was it of theirs? +There was only one thing--and with her cheek pressing against his +knee, old Jolyon knew at once that this something was no trifle: +As he was going to buy a house in the country, would he not--to +please her--buy that splendid house of Soames' at Robin Hill? It +was finished, it was perfectly beautiful, and no one would live +in it now. They would all be so happy there. + +Old Jolyon was on the alert at once. Wasn't the 'man of +property' going to live in his new house, then? He never alluded +to Soames now but under this title. + +"No"--June said--"he was not; she knew that he was not!" + +How did she know? + +She could not tell him, but she knew. She knew nearly for +certain! It was most unlikely; circumstances had changed! +Irene's words still rang in her head: "I have left Soames. +Where should I go?" + +But she kept silence about that. + +If her grandfather would only buy it and settle that wretched +claim that ought never to have been made on Phil! It would be +the very best thing for everybody, and everything--everything +might come straight + +And June put her lips to his forehead, and pressed them close. + +But old Jolyon freed himself from her caress, his face wore the +judicial look which came upon it when he dealt with affairs. He +asked: What did she mean? There was something behind all this-- +had she been seeing Bosinney? + +June answered: "No; but I have been to his rooms." + +"Been to his rooms? Who took you there?" + +June faced him steadily. "I went alone. He has lost that case. +I don't care whether it was right or wrong. I want to help him; +and I will!" + +Old Jolyon asked again: "Have you seen him?" His glance seemed to +pierce right through the girl's eyes into her soul. + +Again June answered: "No; he was not there. I waited, but he did +not come." + +Old Jolyon made a movement of relief. She had risen and looked +down at him; so slight, and light, and young, but so fixed, and +so determined; and disturbed, vexed, as he was, he could not +frown away that fixed look. The feeling of being beaten, of the +reins having slipped, of being old and tired, mastered him. + +"Ah!" he said at last, "you'll get yourself into a mess one of +these days, I can see. You want your own way in everything." + +Visited by one of his strange bursts of philosophy, he added: +"Like that you were born; and like that you'll stay until you +die!" + +And he, who in his dealings with men of business, with Boards, +with Forsytes of all descriptions, with such as were not +Forsytes, had always had his own way, looked at his indomitable +grandchild sadly--for he felt in her that quality which above all +others he unconsciously admired. + +"Do you know what they say is going on?" he said slowly. + +June crimsoned. + +"Yes--no! I know--and I don't know--I don't care!" and she +stamped her foot. + +"I believe," said old Jolyon, dropping his eyes, "that you'd have +him if he were dead!" + +There was a long silence before he spoke again. + +"But as to buying this house--you don't know what you're talking +about!" + +June said that she did. She knew that he could get it if he +wanted. He would only have to give what it cost. + +"What it cost! You know nothing about it. I won't go to Soames- +--I'll have nothing more to do with that young man." + +"But you needn't; you can go to Uncle James. If you can't buy +the house, will you pay his lawsuit claim? I know he is terribly +hard up--I've seen it. You can stop it out of my money!" + +A twinkle came into old Jolyon's eyes. + +"Stop it out of your money! A pretty way. And what will you do, +pray, without your money?" + +But secretly, the idea of wresting the house from James and his +son had begun to take hold of him. He had heard on Forsyte +'Change much comment, much rather doubtful praise of this house. +It was 'too artistic,' but a fine place. To take from the 'man +of property' that on which he had set his heart, would be a +crowning triumph over James, practical proof that he was going to +make a man of property of Jo, to put him back in his proper +position, and there to keep him secure. Justice once for all on +those who had chosen to regard his son as a poor, penniless +outcast. + +He would see, he would see! It might be out of the question; he +was not going to pay a fancy price, but if it could be done, why, +perhaps he would do it! + +And still more secretly he knew that he could not refuse her. + +But he did not commit himself. He would think it over--he said +to June. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BOSINNEY'S DEPARTURE + + +Old Jolyon was not given to hasty decisions; it is probable that +he would have continued to think over the purchase of the house +at Robin Hill, had not June's face told him that he would have no +peace until he acted. + +At breakfast next morning she asked him what time she should +order the carriage. + +"Carriage!" he said, with some appearance of innocence; "what +for? I'm not going out!" + +She answered: "If you don't go early, you won't catch Uncle James +before he goes into the City." + +"James! what about your Uncle James?" + +"The house," she replied, in such a voice that he no longer +pretended ignorance. + +"I've not made up my mind," he said. + +"You must! You must! Oh! Gran--think of me!" + +Old Jolyon grumbled out: "Think of you--I'm always thinking of +you, but you don't think of yourself; you don't think what you're +letting yourself in for. Well, order the carriage at ten!" + +At a quarter past he was placing his umbrella in the stand at +Park Lane--he did not choose to relinquish his hat and coat; +telling Warmson that he wanted to see his master, he went, +without being announced, into the study, and sat down. + +James was still in the dining-room talking to Soames, who had +come round again before breakfast. On hearing who his visitor +was, he muttered nervously: "Now, what's be want, I wonder?" + +He then got up. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "don't you go doing anything in a +hurry. The first thing is to find out where she is--I should go +to Stainer's about it; they're the best men, if they can't find +her, nobody can." And suddenly moved to strange softness, he +muttered to himself, "Poor little thing, I can't tell what she +was thinking about!" and went out blowing his nose. + +Old Jolyon did not rise on seeing his brother, but held out his +hand, and exchanged with him the clasp of a Forsyte. + +James took another chair by the table, and leaned his head on his +hand. + +"Well," he said, "how are you? We don't see much of you +nowadays!" + +Old Jolyon paid no attention to the remark. + +"How's Emily?" he asked; and waiting for no reply, went on +"I've come to see you about this affair of young Bosinney's. I'm +told that new house of his is a white elephant." + +"I don't know anything about a white elephant," said James, "I +know he's lost his case, and I should say he'll go bankrupt." + +Old Jolyon was not slow to seize the opportunity this gave him. + +"I shouldn't wonder a bit!" he agreed; "and if he goes bankrupt, +the 'man of property'--that is, Soames'll be out of pocket. Now, +what I was thinking was this: If he's not going to live there...." + +Seeing both surprise and suspicion in James' eye, he quickly went +on: "I don't want to know anything; I suppose Irene's put her +foot down--it's not material to me. But I'm thinking of a house +in the country myself, not too far from London, and if it suited +me I don't say that I mightn't look at it, at a price." + +James listened to this statement with a strange mixture of doubt, +suspicion, and relief, merging into a dread of something behind, +and tinged with the remains of his old undoubted reliance upon +his elder brother's good faith and judgment. There was anxiety, +too, as to what old Jolyon could have heard and how he had heard +it; and a sort of hopefulness arising from the thought that if +June's connection with Bosinney were completely at an end, her +grandfather would hardly seem anxious to help the young fellow. +Altogether he was puzzled; as he did not like either to show +this, or to commit himself in any way, he said: + +"They tell me you're altering your Will in favour of your son." + +He had not been told this; he had merely added the fact of having +seen old Jolyon with his son and grandchildren to the fact that +he had taken his Will away from Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte. +The shot went home. + +"Who told you that?" asked old Jolyon. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said James; "I can't remember names--I +know somebody told me Soames spent a lot of money on this house; +he's not likely to part with it except at a good price." + +"Well," said old Jolyon, "if, he thinks I'm going to pay a fancy +price, he's mistaken. I've not got the money to throw away that +he seems to have. Let him try and sell it at a forced sale, and +see what he'll get. It's not every man's house, I hear!" + +James, who was secretly also of this opinion, answered: "It's a +gentleman's house. Soames is here now if you'd like to see him." + +"No," said old Jolyon, "I haven't got as far as that; and I'm not +likely to, I can see that very well if I'm met in this manner!" + +James was a little cowed; when it came to the actual figures of a +commercial transaction he was sure of himself, for then he was +dealing with facts, not with men; but preliminary negotiations +such as these made him nervous--he never knew quite how far he +could go. + +"Well," he said, "I know nothing about it. Soames, he tells me +nothing; I should think he'd entertain it--it's a question of +price." + +"Oh!" said old Jolyon, "don't let him make a favour of it!" He +placed his hat on his head in dudgeon. + +The door was opened and Soames came in. + +"There's a policeman out here," he said with his half smile, "for +Uncle Jolyon." + +Old Jolyon looked at him angrily, and James said: "A policeman? +I don't know anything about a policeman. But I suppose you know +something about him," he added to old Jolyon with a look of +suspicion: "I suppose you'd better see him!" + +In the hall an Inspector of Police stood stolidly regarding with +heavy-lidded pale-blue eyes the fine old English furniture picked +up by James at the famous Mavrojano sale in Portman Square. +"You'll find my brother in there," said James. + +The Inspector raised his fingers respectfully to his peaked cap, +and entered the study. + +James saw him go in with a strange sensation. + +"Well," he said to Soames, "I suppose we must wait and see what +he wants. Your uncle's been here about the house!" + +He returned with Soames into the dining-room, but could not rest. + +"Now what does he want?" he murmured again. + +"Who?" replied Soames: "the Inspector? They sent him round from +Stanhope Gate, that's all I know. That 'nonconformist' of Uncle +Jolyon's has been pilfering, I shouldn't wonder!" + +But in spite of his calmness, he too was ill at ease. + +At the end of ten minutes old Jolyon came in. He walked up to +the table, and stood there perfectly silent pulling at his long +white moustaches. James gazed up at him with opening mouth; he +had never seen his brother look like this. + +Old Jolyon raised his hand, and said slowly: + +"Young Bosinney has been run over in the fog and killed." + +Then standing above his brother and his nephew, and looking down +at him with his deep eyes: + +"There's--some--talk--of--suicide," he said. + +James' jaw dropped. "Suicide! What should he do that for?" + +Old Jolyon answered sternly: "God knows, if you and your son +don't!" + +But James did not reply. + +For all men of great age, even for all Forsytes, life has had +bitter experiences. The passer-by, who sees them wrapped in +cloaks of custom, wealth, and comfort, would never suspect that +such black shadows had fallen on their roads. To every man of +great age--to Sir Walter Bentham himself--the idea of suicide has +once at least been present in the ante-room of his soul; on the +threshold, waiting to enter, held out from the inmost chamber by +some chance reality, some vague fear, some painful hope. To +Forsytes that final renunciation of property is hard. Oh! it is +hard! Seldom--perhaps never--can they achieve, it; and yet, how +near have they not sometimes been! + +So even with James! Then in the medley of his thoughts, he broke +out: "Why I saw it in the paper yesterday: 'Run over in the fog!' +They didn't know his name!" He turned from one face to the other +in his confusion of soul; but instinctively all the time he was +rejecting that rumour of suicide. He dared not entertain this +thought, so against his interest, against the interest of his +son, of every Forsyte. He strove against it; and as his nature +ever unconsciously rejected that which it could not with safety +accept, so gradually he overcame this fear. It was an accident! +It must have been! + +Old Jolyon broke in on his reverie. + +"Death was instantaneous. He lay all day yesterday at the +hospital. There was nothing to tell them who he was. I am going +there now; you and your son had better come too." + +No one opposing this command he led the way from the room. + +The day was still and clear and bright, and driving over to Park +Lane from Stanhope Gate, old Jolyon had had the carriage open. +Sitting back on the padded cushions, finishing his cigar, he had +noticed with pleasure the keen crispness of the air, the bustle +of the cabs and people; the strange, almost Parisian, alacrity +that the first fine day will bring into London streets after a +spell of fog or rain. And he had felt so happy; he had not felt +like it for months. His confession to June was off his mind; he +had the prospect of his son's, above all, of his grandchildren's +company in the future--(he had appointed to meet young Jolyon at +the Hotch Potch that very manning to--discuss it again); and +there was the pleasurable excitement of a coming encounter, a +coming victory, over James and the 'man of property' in the +matter of the house. + +He had the carriage closed now; he had no heart to look on +gaiety; nor was it right that Forsytes should be seen driving +with an Inspector of Police. + +In that carriage the Inspector spoke again of the death: + +"It was not so very thick--Just there. The driver says the +gentleman must have had time to see what he was about, he seemed +to walk right into it. It appears that he was very hard up, we +found several pawn tickets at his rooms, his account at the bank +is overdrawn, and there's this case in to-day's papers;" his cold +blue eyes travelled from one to another of the three Forsytes in +the carriage. + +Old Jolyon watching from his corner saw his brother's face +change, and the brooding, worried, look deepen on it. At the +Inspector's words, indeed, all James' doubts and fears revived. +Hard-up--pawn-tickets--an overdrawn account! These words that +had all his life been a far-off nightmare to him, seemed to make +uncannily real that suspicion of suicide which must on no account +be entertained. He sought his son's eye; but lynx-eyed, +taciturn, immovable, Soames gave no answering look. And to old +Jolyon watching, divining the league of mutual defence between +them, there came an overmastering desire to have his own son at +his side, as though this visit to the dead man's body was a +battle in which otherwise he must single-handed meet those two. +And the thought of how to keep June's name out of the business +kept whirring in his brain. James had his son to support him! +Why should he not send for Jo? + +Taking out his card-case, he pencilled the following message: + +'Come round at once. I've sent the carriage for you.' + +On getting out he gave this card to his coachman, telling him to +drive--as fast as possible to the Hotch Potch Club, and if Mr. +Jolyon Forsyte were there to give him the card and bring him at +once. If not there yet, he was to wait till he came. + +He followed the others slowly up the steps, leaning on his +umbrella, and stood a moment to get his breath. The Inspector +said: "This is the mortuary, sir. But take your time." + +In the bare, white-walled room, empty of all but a streak of +sunshine smeared along the dustless floor, lay a form covered by +a sheet. With a huge steady hand the Inspector took the hem and +turned it back. A sightless face gazed up at them, and on either +side of that sightless defiant face the three Forsytes gazed +down; in each one of them the secret emotions, fears, and pity of +his own nature rose and fell like the rising, falling waves of +life, whose wish those white walls barred out now for ever from +Bosinney. And in each one of them the trend of his nature, the +odd essential spring, which moved him in fashions minutely, +unalterably different from those of every other human being, +forced him to a different attitude of thought. Far from the +others, yet inscrutably close, each stood thus, alone with death, +silent, his eyes lowered. + +The Inspector asked softly: + +"You identify the gentleman, sir?" + +Old Jolyon raised his head and nodded. He looked at his brother +opposite, at that long lean figure brooding over the dead man, +with face dusky red, and strained grey eyes; and at the figure of +Soames white and still by his father's side. And all that he had +felt against those two was gone like smoke in the long white +presence of Death. Whence comes it, how comes it--Death? Sudden +reverse of all that goes before; blind setting forth on a path +that leads to where? Dark quenching of the fire! The heavy, +brutal crushing--out that all men must go through, keeping their +eyes clear and brave unto the end! Small and of no import, +insects though they are! And across old Jolyon's face there +flitted a gleam, for Soames, murmuring to the Inspector, crept +noiselessly away. + +Then suddenly James raised his eyes. There was a queer appeal in +that suspicious troubled look: "I know I'm no match for you," it +seemed to say. And, hunting for handkerchief he wiped his brow; +then, bending sorrowful and lank over the dead man, he too turned +and hurried out. + +Old Jolyon stood, still as death, his eyes fixed on the body. +Who shall tell of what he was thinking? Of himself, when his +hair was brown like the hair of that young fellow dead before +him? Of himself, with his battle just beginning, the long, long +battle he had loved; the battle that was over for this young man +almost before it had begun? Of his grand-daughter, with her +broken hopes? Of that other woman? Of the strangeness, and the +pity of it? And the irony, inscrutable, and bitter of that end? +Justice! There was no justice for men, for they were ever in the +dark! + +Or perhaps in his philosophy he thought: Better to be out of, it +all! Better to have done with it, like this poor youth.... + +Some one touched him on the arm. + +A tear started up and wetted his eyelash. "Well," he said, "I'm +no good here. I'd better be going. You'll come to me as soon as +you can, Jo," and with his head bowed he went away. + +It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, +round whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes +breathless, and prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly. + +The forces underlying every tragedy--forces that take no denial, +working through cross currents to their ironical end, had met and +fused with a thunder-clap, flung out the victim, and flattened to +the ground all those that stood around. + +Or so at all events young Jolyon seemed to see them, lying around +Bosinney's body. + +He asked the Inspector to tell him what had happened, and the +latter, like a man who does not every day get such a chance, +again detailed such facts as were known. + +"There's more here, sir, however," he said, "than meets the eye. +I don't believe in suicide, nor in pure accident, myself. It's +more likely I think that he was suffering under great stress +of mind, and took no notice of things about him. Perhaps you can +throw some light on these." + +He took from his pocket a little packet and laid it on the table. +Carefully undoing it, he revealed a lady's handkerchief, pinned +through the folds with a pin of discoloured Venetian gold, the +stone of which had fallen from the socket. A scent of dried +violets rose to young Jolyon's nostrils. + +"Found in his breast pocket," said the Inspector; "the name has +been cut away!" + +Young Jolyon with difficulty answered: "I'm afraid I cannot help +you!" But vividly there rose before him the face he had seen +light up, so tremulous and glad, at Bosinney's coming! Of her he +thought more than of his own daughter, more than of them all--of +her with the dark, soft glance, the delicate passive face, +waiting for the dead man, waiting even at that moment, perhaps, +still and patient in the sunlight. + +He walked sorrowfully away from the hospital towards his father's +house, reflecting that this death would break up the Forsyte +family. The stroke had indeed slipped past their defences into +the very wood of their tree. They might flourish to all +appearance as before, preserving a brave show before the eyes of +London, but the trunk was dead, withered by the same flash that +had stricken down Bosinney. And now the saplings would take its +place, each one a new custodian of the sense of property. + +Good forest of Forsytes! thought young Jolyon--soundest timber +of our land! + +Concerning the cause of this death--his family would doubtless +reject with vigour the suspicion of suicide, which was so +compromising! They would take it as an accident, a stroke of +fate. In their hearts they would even feel it an intervention of +Providence, a retribution--had not Bosinney endangered their two +most priceless possessions, the pocket and the hearth? And they +would talk of 'that unfortunate accident of young Bosinney's,' +but perhaps they would not talk--silence might be better! + +As for himself, he regarded the bus-driver's account of the +accident as of very little value. For no one so madly in love +committed suicide for want of money; nor was Bosinney the sort of +fellow to set much store by a financial crisis. And so he too +rejected this theory of suicide, the dead man's face rose too +clearly before him. Gone in the heyday of his summer--and to +believe thus that an accident had cut Bosinney off in the full +sweep of his passion was more than ever pitiful to young Jolyon. + +Then came a vision of Soames' home as it now was, and must be +hereafter. The streak of lightning had flashed its clear uncanny +gleam on bare bones with grinning spaces between, the disguising +flesh was gone.... + +In the dining-room at Stanhope Gate old Jolyon was sitting alone +when his son came in. He looked very wan in his great armchair. +And his eyes travelling round the walls with their pictures of +still life, and the masterpiece 'Dutch fishing-boats at Sunset' +seemed as though passing their gaze over his life with its hopes, +its gains, its achievements. + +"Ah! Jo!" he said, "is that you? I've told poor little June. +But that's not all of it. Are you going to Soames'? She's +brought it on herself, I suppose; but somehow I can't bear to +think of her, shut up there--and all alone." And holding up his +thin, veined hand, he clenched it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IRENE'S RETURN + + +After leaving James and old Jolyon in the mortuary of the +hospital, Soames hurried aimlessly along the streets. + +The tragic event of Bosinney's death altered the complexion of +everything. There was no longer the same feeling that to lose a +minute would be fatal, nor would he now risk communicating the +fact of his wife's flight to anyone till the inquest was over. + +That morning he had risen early, before the postman came, had +taken the first-post letters from the box himself, and, though +there had been none from Irene, he had made an opportunity of +telling Bilson that her mistress was at the sea; he would +probably, he said, be going down himself from Saturday to Monday. +This had given him time to breathe, time to leave no stone +unturned to find her. + +But now, cut off from taking steps by Bosinney's death--that +strange death, to think of which was like putting a hot iron to +his heart, like lifting a great weight from it--he did not know +how to pass his day; and he wandered here and there through the +streets, looking at every face he met, devoured by a hundred +anxieties. + +And as he wandered, he thought of him who had finished his +wandering, his prowling, and would never haunt his house again. + +Already in the afternoon he passed posters announcing the +identity of the dead man, and bought the papers to see what they +said. He would stop their mouths if he could, and he went into +the City, and was closeted with Boulter for a long time. + +On his way home, passing the steps of Jobson's about half past +four, he met George Forsyte, who held out an evening paper to +Soames, saying: + +"Here! Have you seen this about the poor Buccaneer?" + +Soames answered stonily: "Yes." + +George stared at him. He had never liked Soames; he now held him +responsible for Bosinney's death. Soames had done for him--done +for him by that act of property that had sent the Buccaneer to +run amok that fatal afternoon. + +'The poor fellow,' he was thinking, 'was so cracked with +jealousy, so cracked for his vengeance, that he heard nothing of +the omnibus in that infernal fog.' + +Soames had done for him! And this judgment was in George's eyes. + +"They talk of suicide here," he said at last. "That cat won't +jump." + +Soames shook his head. "An accident," he muttered. + +Clenching his fist on the paper, George crammed it into his +pocket. He could not resist a parting shot. + +"H'mm! All flourishing at home? Any little Soameses yet?" + +With a face as white as the steps of Jobson's, and a lip raised +as if snarling, Soames brushed past him and was gone.... + +On reaching home, and entering the little lighted hall with his +latchkey, the first thing that caught his eye was his wife's +gold-mounted umbrella lying on the rug chest. Flinging off his +fur coat, he hurried to the drawing-room. + +The curtains were drawn for the night, a bright fire of +cedar-logs burned in the grate, and by its light he saw Irene +sitting in her usual corner on the sofa. He shut the door +softly, and went towards her. She did not move, and did not seem +to see him. + +"So you've come back?" he said. "Why are you sitting here in the +dark?" + +Then he caught sight of her face, so white and motionless that it +seemed as though the blood must have stopped flowing in her +veins; and her eyes, that looked enormous, like the great, wide, +startled brown eyes of an owl. + +Huddled in her grey fur against the sofa cushions, she had a +strange resemblance to a captive owl, bunched fir its soft +feathers against the wires of a cage. The supple erectness of +her figure was gone, as though she had been broken by cruel +exercise; as though there were no longer any reason for being +beautiful, and supple, and erect. + +"So you've come back," he repeated. + +She never looked up, and never spoke, the firelight playing over +her motionless figure. + +Suddenly she tried to rise, but he prevented her; it was then +that he understood. + +She had come back like an animal wounded to death, not knowing +where to turn, not knowing what she was doing. The sight of her +figure, huddled in the fur, was enough. + +He knew then for certain that Bosinney had been her lover; knew +that she had seen the report of his death--perhaps, like himself, +had bought a paper at the draughty corner of a street, and read +it. + +She had come back then of her own accord, to the cage she had +pined to be free of--and taking in all the tremendous +significance of this, he longed to cry: "Take your hated body, +that I love, out of my house! Take away that pitiful white face, +so cruel and soft--before I crush it. Get out of my sight; never +let me see you again!" + +And, at those unspoken words, he seemed to see her rise and move +away, like a woman in a terrible dream, from which she was +fighting to awake--rise and go out into the dark and cold, without +a thought of him, without so much as the knowledge of his +presence. + +Then he cried, contradicting what he had not yet spoken, "No; +stay there!" And turning away from her, he sat down in his +accustomed chair on the other side of the hearth. + +They sat in silence. + +And Soames thought: 'Why is all this? Why should I suffer so? +What have I done? It is not my fault!' + +Again he looked at her, huddled like a bird that is shot and +dying, whose poor breast you see panting as the air is taken from +it, whose poor eyes look at you who have shot it, with a slow, +soft, unseeing look, taking farewell of all that is good--of the +sun, and the air, and its mate. + +So they sat, by the firelight, in the silence, one on each side +of the hearth. + +And the fume of the burning cedar logs, that he loved so well, +seemed to grip Soames by the throat till he could bear it no +longer. And going out into the hall he flung the door wide, to +gulp down the cold air that came in; then without hat or overcoat +went out into the Square. + +Along the garden rails a half-starved cat came rubbing her way +towards him, and Soames thought: 'Suffering! when will it cease, +my suffering?' + +At a front door across the way was a man of his acquaintance +named Rutter, scraping his boots, with an air of 'I am master +here.' And Soames walked on. + +From far in the clear air the bells of the church where he and +Irene had been married were pealing in 'practice' for the advent +of Christ, the chimes ringing out above the sound of traffic. He +felt a craving for strong drink, to lull him to indifference, or +rouse him to fury. If only he could burst out of himself, out of +this web that for the first time in his life he felt around him. +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Divorce her--turn her +out! She has forgotten you. Forget her!' + +If only he could surrender to the thought: 'Let her go--she has +suffered enough!' + +If only he could surrender to the desire: 'Make a slave of her-- +she is in your power!' + +If only even he could surrender to the sudden vision: 'What does +it all matter?' Forget himself for a minute, forget that it +mattered what he did, forget that whatever he did he must +sacrifice something. + +If only he could act on an impulse! + +He could forget nothing; surrender to no thought, vision, or +desire; it was all too serious; too close around him, an +unbreakable cage. + +On the far side of the Square newspaper boys were calling their +evening wares, and the ghoulish cries mingled and jangled with +the sound of those church bells. + +Soames covered his ears. The thought flashed across him that but +for a chance, he himself, and not Bosinney, might be lying dead, +and she, instead of crouching there like a shot bird with those +dying eyes.... + +Something soft touched his legs, the cat was rubbing herself +against them. And a sob that shook him from head to foot burst +from Soames' chest. Then all was still again in the dark, where +the houses seemed to stare at him, each with a master and +mistress of its own, and a secret story of happiness or sorrow. + +And suddenly he saw that his own door was open, and black against +the light from the hall a man standing with his back turned. +Something slid too in his breast, and he stole up close behind. + +He could see his own fur coat flung across the carved oak chair; +the Persian rugs; the silver bowls, the rows of porcelain plates +arranged along the walls, and this unknown man who was standing +there. + +And sharply he asked: "What is it you want, sir?" + +The visitor turned. It was young Jolyon. + +"The door was open," he said. "Might I see your wife for a +minute, I have a message for her?" + +Soames gave him a strange, sidelong stare. + +"My wife can see no one," he muttered doggedly. + +Young Jolyon answered gently: "I shouldn't keep her a minute." + +Soames brushed by him and barred the way. + +"She can see no one," he said again. + +Young Jolyon's glance shot past him into the hall, and Soames +turned. There in the drawing-room doorway stood Irene, her eyes +were wild and eager, her lips were parted, her hands out- +stretched. In the sight of both men that light vanished from +her face; her hands dropped to her sides; she stood like stone. + +Soames spun round, and met his visitor's eyes, and at the look he +saw in them, a sound like a snarl escaped him. He drew his lips +back in the ghost of a smile. + +"This is my house," he said; "I manage my own affairs. I've told +you once--I tell you again; we are not at home." + +And in young Jolyon's face he slammed the door. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAN OF PROPERTY, GALSWORTHY *** + +******* This file should be named mnprp12.txt or mnprp12.zip ********* + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, mnprp13.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, mnprp12a.txt + +This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net] +Extensive proofing for this edition was done by Fredrik Hausmann + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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