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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Soames took out an evening paper, and read the headline.
"'Instant action by our Government—state of war existing!'"
"Ah!" said James, and sighed. "I was afraid they'd cut and run like old Gladstone. We shall finish with them this time."
All stared at him. James! Always fussy, nervous, anxious! James with his continual, 'I told you how it would be!' and his pessimism, and his cautious investments. There was something uncanny about such resolution in this the oldest living Forsyte.
"Where's Timothy?" said James. "He ought to pay attention to this."
Aunt Juley said she didn't know; Timothy had not said much at lunch to-day. Aunt Hester rose and threaded her way out of the room, and Francie said rather maliciously:
"The Boers are a hard nut to crack, Uncle James."
"H'm!" muttered James. "Where do you get your information? Nobody tells me."
Young Nicholas remarked in his mild voice that Nick (his eldest) was now going to drill regularly.
"Ah!" muttered James, and stared before him—his thoughts were on Val. "He's got to look after his mother," he said, "he's got no time for drilling and that, with that father of his." This cryptic saying produced silence, until he spoke again.
"What did June want here?" And his eyes rested with suspicion on all of them in turn. "Her father's a rich man now." The conversation turned on Jolyon, and when he had been seen last. It was supposed that he went abroad and saw all sorts of people now that his wife was dead; his water-colours were on the line, and he was a successful man. Francie went so far as to say:
"I should like to see him again; he was rather a dear."
Aunt Juley recalled how he had gone to sleep on the sofa one day, where James was sitting. He had always been very amiable; what did Soames think?
Knowing that Jolyon was Irene's trustee, all felt the delicacy of this question, and looked at Soames with interest. A faint pink had come up in his cheeks.
"He's going grey," he said.
Indeed! Had Soames seen him? Soames nodded, and the pink vanished.
James said suddenly: "Well—I don't know, I can't tell."
It so exactly expressed the sentiment of everybody present that there was something behind everything, that nobody responded. But at this moment Aunt Hester returned.
"Timothy," she said in a low voice, "Timothy has bought a map, and he's put in—he's put in three flags."
Timothy had...! A sigh went round the company.
If Timothy had indeed put in three flags already, well!—it showed what the nation could do when it was roused. The war was as good as over.
CHAPTER XIII—JOLYON FINDS OUT WHERE HE IS
Jolyon stood at the window in Holly's old night nursery, converted into a studio, not because it had a north light, but for its view over the prospect away to the Grand Stand at Epsom. He shifted to the side window which overlooked the stableyard, and whistled down to the dog Balthasar who lay for ever under the clock tower. The old dog looked up and wagged his tail. 'Poor old boy!' thought Jolyon, shifting back to the other window.
He had been restless all this week, since his attempt to prosecute trusteeship, uneasy in his conscience which was ever acute, disturbed in his sense of compassion which was easily excited, and with a queer sensation as if his feeling for beauty had received some definite embodiment. Autumn was getting hold of the old oak-tree, its leaves were browning. Sunshine had been plentiful and hot this summer. As with trees, so with men's lives! 'I ought to live long,' thought Jolyon; 'I'm getting mildewed for want of heat. If I can't work, I shall be off to Paris.' But memory of Paris gave him no pleasure. Besides, how could he go? He must stay and see what Soames was going to do. 'I'm her trustee. I can't leave her unprotected,' he thought. It had been striking him as curious how very clearly he could still see Irene in her little drawing-room which he had only twice entered. Her beauty must have a sort of poignant harmony! No literal portrait would ever do her justice; the essence of her was—ah I what?... The noise of hoofs called him back to the other window. Holly was riding into the yard on her long-tailed 'palfrey.' She looked up and he waved to her. She had been rather silent lately; getting old, he supposed, beginning to want her future, as they all did—youngsters!
Time was certainly the devil! And with the feeling that to waste this swift-travelling commodity was unforgivable folly, he took up his brush. But it was no use; he could not concentrate his eye—besides, the light was going. 'I'll go up to town,' he thought. In the hall a servant met him.
"A lady to see you, sir; Mrs. Heron."
Extraordinary coincidence! Passing into the picture-gallery, as it was still called, he saw Irene standing over by the window.
She came towards him saying:
"I've been trespassing; I came up through the coppice and garden. I always used to come that way to see Uncle Jolyon."
"You couldn't trespass here," replied Jolyon; "history makes that impossible. I was just thinking of you."
Irene smiled. And it was as if something shone through; not mere spirituality—serener, completer, more alluring.
"History!" she answered; "I once told Uncle Jolyon that love was for ever. Well, it isn't. Only aversion lasts."
Jolyon stared at her. Had she got over Bosinney at last?
"Yes!" he said, "aversion's deeper than love or hate because it's a natural product of the nerves, and we don't change them."
"I came to tell you that Soames has been to see me. He said a thing that frightened me. He said: 'You are still my wife!'"
"What!" ejaculated Jolyon. "You ought not to live alone." And he continued to stare at her, afflicted by the thought that where Beauty was, nothing ever ran quite straight, which, no doubt, was why so many people looked on it as immoral.
"What more?"
"He asked me to shake hands.
"Did you?"
"Yes. When he came in I'm sure he didn't want to; he changed while he was there."
"Ah! you certainly ought not to go on living there alone."
"I know no woman I could ask; and I can't take a lover to order, Cousin Jolyon."
"Heaven forbid!" said Jolyon. "What a damnable position! Will you stay to dinner? No? Well, let me see you back to town; I wanted to go up this evening."
"Truly?"
"Truly. I'll be ready in five minutes."
On that walk to the station they talked of pictures and music, contrasting the СКАЧАТЬ