THE COMPLETE FORSYTE SAGA SERIES: The Forsyte Saga, A Modern Comedy, End of the Chapter & On Forsyte 'Change (A Prequel). John Galsworthy

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СКАЧАТЬ in that tiny flat eight years ago when he announced her good fortune. Everything was now fresh, dainty, and smelled of flowers. The general effect was silvery with touches of black, hydrangea colour, and gold. 'A woman of great taste,' he thought. Time had dealt gently with Jolyon, for he was a Forsyte. But with Irene Time hardly seemed to deal at all, or such was his impression. She appeared to him not a day older, standing there in mole-coloured velvet corduroy, with soft dark eyes and dark gold hair, with outstretched hand and a little smile.

      "Won't you sit down?"

      He had probably never occupied a chair with a fuller sense of embarrassment.

      "You look absolutely unchanged," he said.

      "And you look younger, Cousin Jolyon."

      Jolyon ran his hands through his hair, whose thickness was still a comfort to him.

      "I'm ancient, but I don't feel it. That's one thing about painting, it keeps you young. Titian lived to ninety-nine, and had to have plague to kill him off. Do you know, the first time I ever saw you I thought of a picture by him?"

      "When did you see me for the first time?"

      "In the Botanical Gardens."

      "How did you know me, if you'd never seen me before?"

      "By someone who came up to you." He was looking at her hardily, but her face did not change; and she said quietly:

      "Yes; many lives ago."

      "What is your recipe for youth, Irene?"

      "People who don't live are wonderfully preserved."

      H'm! a bitter little saying! People who don't live! But an opening, and he took it. "You remember my Cousin Soames?"

      He saw her smile faintly at that whimsicality, and at once went on:

      "He came to see me the day before yesterday! He wants a divorce. Do you?"

      "I?" The word seemed startled out of her. "After twelve years? It's rather late. Won't it be difficult?"

      Jolyon looked hard into her face. "Unless...." he said.

      "Unless I have a lover now. But I have never had one since."

      What did he feel at the simplicity and candour of those words? Relief, surprise, pity! Venus for twelve years without a lover!

      "And yet," he said, "I suppose you would give a good deal to be free, too?"

      "I don't know. What does it matter, now?"

      "But if you were to love again?"

      "I should love." In that simple answer she seemed to sum up the whole philosophy of one on whom the world had turned its back.

      "Well! Is there anything you would like me to say to him?"

      "Only that I'm sorry he's not free. He had his chance once. I don't know why he didn't take it."

      "Because he was a Forsyte; we never part with things, you know, unless we want something in their place; and not always then."

      Irene smiled. "Don't you, Cousin Jolyon?—I think you do."

      "Of course, I'm a bit of a mongrel—not quite a pure Forsyte. I never take the halfpennies off my cheques, I put them on," said Jolyon uneasily.

      "Well, what does Soames want in place of me now?"

      "I don't know; perhaps children."

      She was silent for a little, looking down.

      "Yes," she murmured; "it's hard. I would help him to be free if I could."

      Jolyon gazed into his hat, his embarrassment was increasing fast; so was his admiration, his wonder, and his pity. She was so lovely, and so lonely; and altogether it was such a coil!

      "Well," he said, "I shall have to see Soames. If there's anything I can do for you I'm always at your service. You must think of me as a wretched substitute for my father. At all events I'll let you know what happens when I speak to Soames. He may supply the material himself."

      She shook her head.

      "You see, he has a lot to lose; and I have nothing. I should like him to be free; but I don't see what I can do."

      "Nor I at the moment," said Jolyon, and soon after took his leave. He went down to his hansom. Half-past three! Soames would be at his office still.

      "To the Poultry," he called through the trap. In front of the Houses of Parliament and in Whitehall, newsvendors were calling, "Grave situation in the Transvaal!" but the cries hardly roused him, absorbed in recollection of that very beautiful figure, of her soft dark glance, and the words: "I have never had one since." What on earth did such a woman do with her life, back-watered like this? Solitary, unprotected, with every man's hand against her or rather—reaching out to grasp her at the least sign. And year after year she went on like that!

      The word 'Poultry' above the passing citizens brought him back to reality.

      'Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte,' in black letters on a ground the colour of peasoup, spurred him to a sort of vigour, and he went up the stone stairs muttering: "Fusty musty ownerships! Well, we couldn't do without them!"

      "I want Mr. Soames Forsyte," he said to the boy who opened the door.

      "What name?"

      "Mr. Jolyon Forsyte."

      The youth looked at him curiously, never having seen a Forsyte with a beard, and vanished.

      The offices of 'Forsyte, Bustard and Forsyte' had slowly absorbed the offices of 'Tooting and Bowles,' and occupied the whole of the first floor.

      The firm consisted now of nothing but Soames and a number of managing and articled clerks. The complete retirement of James some six years ago had accelerated business, to which the final touch of speed had been imparted when Bustard dropped off, worn out, as many believed, by the suit of 'Fryer versus Forsyte,' more in Chancery than ever and less likely to benefit its beneficiaries. Soames, with his saner grasp of actualities, had never permitted it to worry him; on the contrary, he had long perceived that Providence had presented him therein with L200 a year net in perpetuity, and—why not?

      When Jolyon entered, his cousin was drawing out a list of holdings in Consols, which in view of the rumours of war he was going to advise his companies to put on the market at once, before other companies did the same. He looked round, sidelong, and said:

      "How are you? Just one minute. Sit down, won't you?" And having entered three amounts, and set a ruler to keep his place, he turned towards Jolyon, biting the side of his flat forefinger....

      "Yes?" he said.

      "I have seen her."

      Soames frowned.

      "Well?"

      "She has remained faithful to memory."

      Having said that, Jolyon was ashamed. СКАЧАТЬ