第11章

We’vemoved，andtheyhaven’t。Sonobodycares。Marriagewithoutadecentchanceofreliefisonlyasortofslave—owning;peopleoughtn’ttoowneachother。Everybodyseesthatnow。IfIrenebrokesuchlaws，whatdoesitmatter？"

"It’snotformetodisagreethere，"saidJolyon;"butthat’sallquitebesidethemark。Thisisamatterofhumanfeeling。"

"Ofcourseitis，"criedJune，"thehumanfeelingofthosetwoyoungthings。"

"Mydear，"saidJolyonwithgentleexasperation;"you’retalkingnonsense。"

"I’mnot。Iftheyprovetobereallyfondofeachother，whyshouldtheybemadeunhappybecauseofthepast？"

"Youhaven’tlivedthatpast。Ihave——throughthefeelingsofmywife;throughmyownnervesandmyimagination，asonlyonewhoisdevotedcan。"

June，too，rose，andbegantowanderrestlessly。

"If，"shesaidsuddenly，"shewerethedaughterofPhilipBosinney，I

couldunderstandyoubetter。Irenelovedhim，sheneverlovedSoames。"

Jolyonutteredadeepsound—thesortofnoiseanItalianpeasantwomanutterstohermule。Hishearthadbegunbeatingfuriously，buthepaidnoattentiontoit，quitecarriedawaybyhisfeelings。

"Thatshowshowlittleyouunderstand。NeitherInorJon，ifIknowhim，wouldmindalove—past。It’sthebrutalityofaunionwithoutlove。ThisgirlisthedaughterofthemanwhoonceownedJon’smotherasanegro—slavewasowned。Youcan’tlaythatghost;don’ttryto，June！It’saskingustoseeJonjoinedtothefleshandbloodofthemanwhopossessedJon’smotheragainstherwill。It’snogoodmincingwords;Iwantitclearonceforall。AndnowI

mustn’ttalkanymore，orIshallhavetositupwiththisallnight。"And，puttinghishandoverhisheart，JolyonturnedhisbackonhisdaughterandstoodlookingattheriverThames。

June，whobynatureneversawahornet’snestuntilshehadputherheadintoit，wasseriouslyalarmed。Shecameandslippedherarmthroughhis。Notconvincedthathewasright，andsheherselfwrong，becausethatwasnotnaturaltoher，shewasyetprofoundlyimpressedbytheobviousfactthatthesubjectwasverybadforhim。Sherubbedhercheekagainsthisshoulder，andsaidnothing。

Aftertakingherelderlycousinacross，Fleurdidnotlandatonce，butpulledinamongthereeds，intothesunshine。Thepeacefulbeautyoftheafternoonseducedforalittleonenotmuchgiventothevagueandpoetic。Inthefieldbeyondthebankwhereherskifflayup，amachinedrawnbyagreyhorsewasturninganearlyfieldofhay。Shewatchedthegrasscascadingoverandbehindthelightwheelswithfascination——itlookedsocoolandfresh。Theclickandswishblendedwiththerustleofthewillowsandthepoplars，andthecooingofawood—pigeon，inatrueriversong。Alongside，inthedeepgreenwater，weeds，likeyellowsnakes，werewrithingandnosingwiththecurrent;piedcattleonthefarthersidestoodintheshadelazilyswishingtheirtails。Itwasanafternoontodream。AndshetookoutJon’sletters——notfloweryeffusions，buthauntedintheirrecitalofthingsseenanddonebyalongingveryagreeabletoher，andallending"YourdevotedJ。"Fleurwasnotsentimental，herdesireswereeverconcreteandconcentrated，butwhatpoetrytherewasinthedaughterofSoamesandAnnettehadcertainlyinthoseweeksofwaitinggatheredroundhermemoriesofJon。Theyallbelongedtograssandblossom，flowersandrunningwater。Sheenjoyedhiminthescentsabsorbedbyhercrinklingnose。ThestarscouldpersuadeherthatshewasstandingbesidehiminthecentreofthemapofSpain;andofanearlymorningthedewycobwebs，thehazysparkleandpromiseofthedaydowninthegarden，wereJonpersonifiedtoher。

Twowhiteswanscamemajesticallyby，whileshewasreadinghisletters，followedbytheirbroodofsixyoungswansinaline，withjustsomuchwaterbetweeneachtailandhead，aflotillaofgreydestroyers。Fleurthrustherlettersback，gotouthersculls，andpulleduptothelanding—stage。Crossingthelawn，shewonderedwhethersheshouldtellherfatherofJune’svisit。Ifhelearnedofitfromthebutler，hemightthinkitoddifshedidnot。Itgaveher，too，anotherchancetostartleoutofhimthereasonofthefeud。Shewent，therefore，uptheroadtomeethim。

SoameshadgonetolookatapatchofgroundonwhichtheLocalAuthoritieswereproposingtoerectaSanatoriumforpeoplewithweaklungs。Faithfultohisnativeindividualism，hetooknopartinlocalaffairs，contenttopaytherateswhichwerealwaysgoingup。

Hecouldnot，however，remainindifferenttothisnewanddangerousscheme。Thesitewasnothalfamilefromhisownhouse。Hewasquiteofopinionthatthecountryshouldstampouttuberculosis;butthiswasnottheplace。Itshouldbedonefartheraway。Hetook，indeed，anattitudecommontoalltrueForsytes，thatdisabilityofanysortinotherpeoplewasnothisaffair，andtheStateshoulddoitsbusinesswithoutprejudicinginanywaythenaturaladvantageswhichhehadacquiredorinherited。Francie，themostfree—spiritedForsyteofhisgeneration（exceptperhapsthatfellowJolyon）hadonceaskedhiminhermaliciousway:"DidyoueverseethenameForsyteinasubscriptionlist，Soames？"Thatwasasitmightbe，butaSanatoriumwoulddepreciatetheneighbourhood，andheshouldcertainlysignthepetitionwhichwasbeinggotupagainstit。

Returningwiththisdecisionfreshwithinhim，hesawFleurcoming。

Shewasshowinghimmoreaffectionoflate，andthequiettimedownherewithherinthissummerweatherhadbeenmakinghimfeelquiteyoung;AnnettewasalwaysrunninguptoTownforonethingoranother，sothathehadFleurtohimselfalmostasmuchashecouldwish。Tobesure，youngMonthadformedahabitofappearingonhismotor—cyclealmosteveryotherday。Thankgoodness，theyoungfellowhadshavedoffhishalf—toothbrushes，andnolongerlookedlikeamountebank！WithagirlfriendofFleur’swhowasstayinginthehouse，andaneighbouringyouthorso，theymadetwocouplesafterdinner，inthehall，tothemusicoftheelectricpianola，whichperformedFox—trotsunassisted，withasurprisedshineonitsexpressivesurface。Annette，even，nowandthenpassedgracefullyupanddowninthearmsofoneorotheroftheyoungmen。AndSoames，comingtothedrawing—roomdoor，wouldlifthisnosealittlesideways，andwatchthem，waitingtocatchasmilefromFleur;thenmovebacktohischairbythedrawing—roomhearth，toperuseTheTimesorsomeothercollector’spricelist。Tohisever—anxiouseyesFleurshowednosignsofrememberingthatcapriceofhers。

Whenshereachedhimonthedustyroad，heslippedhishandwithinherarm。

"Who，doyouthink，hasbeentoseeyou，Dad？Shecouldn’twait！

Guess！"

"Ineverguess，"saidSoamesuneasily。"Who？"

"Yourcousin，JuneForsyte。"

QuiteunconsciouslySoamesgrippedherarm。"Whatdidshewant？"

"Idon’tknow。Butitwasratherbreakingthroughthefeud，wasn’tit？"

"Feud？Whatfeud？"

"Theonethatexistsinyourimagination，dear。"

Soamesdroppedherarm。Wasshemocking，ortryingtodrawhimon？

"Isupposeshewantedmetobuyapicture，"hesaidatlast。

"Idon’tthinkso。Perhapsitwasjustfamilyaffection。"

"She’sonlyafirstcousinonceremoved，"mutteredSoames。

"Andthedaughterofyourenemy。"

"Whatd’youmeanbythat？"

"Ibegyourpardon，dear;Ithoughthewas。"

"Enemy！"repeatedSoames。"It’sancienthistory。Idon’tknowwhereyougetyournotions。"

"FromJuneForsyte。"

Ithadcometoherasaninspirationthatifhethoughtsheknew，orwereontheedgeofknowledge，hewouldtellher。

Soameswasstartled，butshehadunderratedhiscautionandtenacity。

"Ifyouknow，"hesaidcoldly，"whydoyouplagueme？"

Fleursawthatshehadoverreachedherself。

"Idon’twanttoplagueyou，darling。Asyousay，whywanttoknowmore？Whywanttoknowanythingofthat’small’mystery——Jem’enfiche，asProfondsays？"

"Thatchap！"saidSoamesprofoundly。

Thatchap，indeed，playedaconsiderable，ifinvisible，partthissummer——forhehadnotturnedupagain。EversincetheSundaywhenFleurhaddrawnattentiontohimprowlingonthelawn，Soameshadthoughtofhimagooddeal，andalwaysinconnectionwithAnnette，fornoreason，exceptthatshewaslookinghandsomerthanforsometimepast。Hispossessiveinstinct，subtle，lessformal，moreelasticsincetheWar，keptallmisgivingunderground。AsonelooksonsomeAmericanriver，quietandpleasant，knowingthatanalligatorperhapsislyinginthemudwithhissnoutjustraisedandindistinguishablefromasnagofwood——soSoameslookedontheriverofhisownexistence，subconsciousofMonsieurProfond，refusingtoseemorethanthesuspicionofhissnout。Hehadatthisepochinhislifepracticallyallhewanted，andwasasnearlyhappyashisnaturewouldpermit。Hissenseswereatrest;hisaffectionsfoundalltheventtheyneededinhisdaughter;hiscollectionwaswellknown，hismoneywellinvested;hishealthexcellent，saveforatouchoflivernowandagain;hehadnotyetbeguntoworryseriouslyaboutwhatwouldhappenafterdeath，incliningtothinkthatnothingwouldhappen。Heresembledoneofhisowngilt—edgedsecurities，andtoknockthegiltoffbyseeinganythinghecouldavoidseeingwouldbe，hefeltinstinctively，perverseandretrogressive。Thosetwocrumpledrose—leaves，Fleur’scapriceandMonsieurProfond’ssnout，wouldlevelawayifhelayonthemindustriously。

ThateveningChance，whichvisitsthelivesofeventhebest—investedForsytes，putaclueintoFleur’shands。Herfathercamedowntodinnerwithoutahandkerchief，andhadoccasiontoblowhisnose。

"I’llgetyouone，dear，"shehadsaid，andranupstairs。Inthesachetwhereshesoughtforit——anoldsachetofveryfadedsilk——

thereweretwocompartments:oneheld，handkerchiefs;theotherwasbuttoned，andcontainedsomethingflatandhard。BysomechildishimpulseFleurunbuttonedit。Therewasaframeandinitaphotographofherselfasalittlegirl。Shegazedatit，fascinated，asoneisbyone’sownpresentment。Itslippedunderherfidgetingthumb，andshesawthatanotherphotographwasbehind。Shepressedherowndownfurther，andperceivedaface，whichsheseemedtoknow，ofayoungwoman，verygood—looking，inaveryoldstyleofeveningdress。Slippingherownphotographupoveritagain，shetookoutahandkerchiefandwentdown。Onlyonthestairsdidsheidentifythatface。Surely——surelyJon’smother！Theconvictioncameasashock。

Andshestoodstillinaflurryofthought。Why，ofcourse！Jon’sfatherhadmarriedthewomanherfatherhadwantedtomarry，hadcheatedhimoutofher，perhaps。Then，afraidofshowingbyhermannerthatshehadlightedonhissecret，sherefusedtothinkfurther，and，shakingoutthesilkhandkerchief，enteredthedining—

room。

"Ichosethesoftest，Father。"

"H’m！"saidSoames;"Ionlyusethoseafteracold。Nevermind！"

ThateveningpassedforFleurinputtingtwoandtwotogether;

recallingthelookonherfather’sfaceintheconfectioner’sshop——alookstrangeandcoldlyintimate，aqueerlook。Hemusthavelovedthatwomanverymuchtohavekeptherphotographallthistime，inspiteofhavinglosther。Unsparingandmatter—of—fact，herminddartedtohisrelationswithherownmother。Hadheeverreallylovedher？Shethoughtnot。Jonwasthesonofthewomanhehadreallyloved。Surely，then，heoughtnottomindhisdaughterlovinghim;itonlywantedgettingusedto。Andasighofsheerreliefwascaughtinthefoldsofhernightgownslippingoverherhead。

III

MEETINGS

YouthonlyrecognisesAgebyfitsandstarts。Jon，forone，hadneverreallyseenhisfather’sagetillhecamebackfromSpain。ThefaceofthefourthJolyon，wornbywaiting，gavehimquiteashock——

itlookedsowanandold。Hisfather’smaskhadbeenforcedawrybytheemotionofthemeeting，sothattheboysuddenlyrealisedhowmuchhemusthavefelttheirabsence。Hesummonedtohisaidthethought:’Well，Ididn’twanttogo！’ItwasoutofdateforYouthtodefertoAge。ButJonwasbynomeanstypicallymodern。Hisfatherhadalwaysbeen"sojolly"tohim，andtofeelthatonemeanttobeginagainatoncetheconductwhichhisfatherhadsufferedsixweeks’lonelinesstocurewasnotagreeable。

Atthequestion，"Well，oldman，howdidthegreatGoyastrikeyou？"

hisconscienceprickedhimbadly。ThegreatGoyaonlyexistedbecausehehadcreatedafacewhichresembledFleur’s。

Onthenightoftheirreturn，hewenttobedfullofcompunction;butawokefullofanticipation。ItwasonlythefifthofJuly，andnomeetingwasfixedwithFleuruntiltheninth。Hewastohavethreedaysathomebeforegoingbacktofarm。Somehowhemustcontrivetoseeher！

Inthelivesofmenaninexorablerhythm，causedbytheneedfortrousers，noteventhefondestparentscandeny。Onthesecondday，therefore，JonwenttoTown，andhavingsatisfiedhisconsciencebyorderingwhatwasindispensableinConduitStreet，turnedhisfacetowardPiccadilly。StrattonStreet，whereherClubwas，adjoinedDevonshireHouse。ItwouldbethemerestchancethatsheshouldbeatherClub。ButhedawdleddownBondStreetwithabeatingheart，noticingthesuperiorityofallotheryoungmentohimself。Theyworetheirclotheswithsuchanair;theyhadassurance;theywereold。HewassuddenlyoverwhelmedbytheconvictionthatFleurmusthaveforgottenhim。Absorbedinhisownfeelingforheralltheseweeks，hehadmislaidthatpossibility。Thecornersofhismouthdrooped，hishandsfeltclammy。Fleurwiththepickofyouthatthebeckofhersmile—Fleurincomparable！Itwasanevilmoment。Jon，however，hadagreatideathatonemustbeabletofaceanything。

Andhebracedhimselfwiththatdourrefectioninfrontofabric—a—

bracshop。Atthishigh—watermarkofwhatwasoncetheLondonseason，therewasnothingtomarkitoutfromanyotherexceptagreytophatortwo，andthesun。Jonmovedon，andturningthecornerintoPiccadilly，ranintoValDartiemovingtowardtheIseeumClub，towhichhehadjustbeenelected。

"Hallo！youngman！Whereareyouoffto？"

Jongushed。"I’vejustbeentomytailor’s。"

Vallookedhimupanddown。"That’sgood！I’mgoinginheretoordersomecigarettes;thencomeandhavesomelunch。"

Jonthankedhim。HemightgetnewsofherfromVal！

TheconditionofEngland，thatnightmareofitsPressandPublicmen，wasseenindifferentperspectivewithinthetobacconist’swhichtheynowentered。

"Yes，sir;preciselythecigaretteIusedtosupplyyourfatherwith。

Blessme！Mr。MontagueDartiewasacustomerherefrom——letmesee——

theyearMeltonwontheDerby。Oneofmyverybestcustomershewas。"Afaintsmileilluminedthetobacconist’sface。"Many’sthetiphe’sgivenme，tobesure！Isupposehetookacoupleofhundredoftheseeveryweek，yearin，yearout，andneverchangedhiscigarette。Veryaffablegentleman，broughtmealotofcustom。I

wassorryhemetwiththataccident。Onemissesanoldcustomerlikehim。"

Valsmiled。Hisfather’sdeceasehadclosedanaccountwhichhadbeenrunninglonger，probably，thananyother;andinaringofsmokepuffedoutfromthattime—honouredcigaretteheseemedtoseeagainhisfather’sface，dark，good—looking，moustachioed，alittlepuffy，intheonlyhaloithadearned。Hisfatherhadhisfamehere，anyway——amanwhosmokedtwohundredcigarettesaweek，whocouldgivetips，andrunaccountsforever！Tohistobacconistahero！

Eventhatwassomedistinctiontoinherit！

"Ipaycash，"hesaid;"howmuch？"

"Tohisson，sir，andcash——tenandsix。IshallneverforgetMr。

MontagueDartie。I’veknownhimstandtalkin’tomehalfanhour。

Wedon’tgetmanylikehimnow，witheverybodyinsuchahurry。TheWarwasbadformanners，sir——itwasbadformanners。Youwereinit，Isee。"

"No，"saidVal，tappinghisknee，"Igotthisinthewarbefore。

Savedmylife，Iexpect。Doyouwantanycigarettes，Jon？"

Ratherashamed，Jonmurmured，"Idon’tsmoke，youknow，"andsawthetobacconist’slipstwisted，asifuncertainwhethertosay"GoodGod！"or"Now’syourchance，sir！"

"That’sright，"saidVal;"keepoffitwhileyoucan。You’llwantitwhenyoutakeaknock。Thisisreallythesametobacco，then？"

"Identical，sir;alittledearer，that’sall。Wonderfulstayingpower——theBritishEmpire，Ialwayssay。"

"Sendmedownahundredaweektothisaddress，andinvoiceitmonthly。Comeon，Jon。"

JonenteredtheIseeumwithcuriosity。ExcepttolunchnowandthenattheHotch—Potchwithhisfather，hehadneverbeeninaLondonClub。TheIseeum，comfortableandunpretentious，didnotmove，couldnot，solongasGeorgeForsytesatonitsCommittee，wherehisculinaryacumenwasalmostthecontrollingforce。TheClubhadmadeastandagainstthenewlyrich，andithadtakenallGeorgeForsyte’sprestige，andpraiseofhimasa"goodsportsman，"tobringinProsperProfond。

Thetwowerelunchingtogetherwhenthehalf—brothers—in—lawenteredthedining—room，andattractedbyGeorge’sforefinger，satdownattheirtable，Valwithhisshrewdeyesandcharmingsmile，Jonwithsolemnlipsandanattractiveshynessinhisglance。Therewasanairofprivilegearoundthatcornertable，asthoughpastmasterswereeatingthere。Jonwasfascinatedbythehypnoticatmosphere。

Thewaiter，leaninthechaps，pervadedwithsuchfree—masonicaldeference。HeseemedtohangonGeorgeForsyte’slips，towatchthegloatinhiseyewithakindofsympathy，tofollowthemovementsoftheheavyclub—markedsilverfondly。HisliveriedarmandconfidentialvoicealarmedJon，theycamesosecretlyoverhisshoulder。

ExceptforGeorge’s"Yourgrandfathertippedmeonce;hewasadeucedgoodjudgeofacigar！"neitherhenortheotherpastmastertookanynoticeofhim，andhewasgratefulforthis。Thetalkwasallaboutthebreeding，points，andpricesofhorses，andhelistenedtoitvaguelyatfirst，wonderinghowitwaspossibletoretainsomuchknowledgeinahead。Hecouldnottakehiseyesoffthedarkpastmaster——whathesaidwassodeliberateanddiscouraging——suchheavy，queer，smiled—outwords。Jonwasthinkingofbutterflies，whenheheardhimsay:

"IwanttoseeMr。SoamesForsydetakeaninterestin’orses。"

"OldSoames！He’stoodryafile！"

WithallhismightJontriednottogrowred，whilethedarkpastmasterwenton。

"Hisdaughter’sanattractivesmallgirl。Mr。SoamesForsydeisabitold—fashioned。Iwanttoseehimhaveapleasuresomeday。"

GeorgeForsytegrinned。

"Don’tyouworry;he’snotsomiserableashelooks。He’llnevershowhe’senjoyinganything——theymighttryandtakeitfromhim。

OldSoames！Oncebit，twiceshy！"

"Well，Jon，"saidVal，hastily，"ifyou’vefinished，we’llgoandhavecoffee。"

"Whowerethose？"Jonasked，onthestairs。"Ididn’tquite———"

"OldGeorgeForsyteisafirstcousinofyourfather’sandofmyUncleSoames。He’salwaysbeenhere。Theotherchap，Profond，isaqueerfish。Ithinkhe’shangingroundSoames’wife，ifyouaskme！"

Jonlookedathim，startled。"Butthat’sawful，"hesaid:"Imean——

forFleur。"

"Don’tsupposeFleurcaresverymuch;she’sveryup—to—date。"

"Hermother！"

"You’reverygreen，Jon。"

Jongrewred。"Mothers，"hestammeredangrily，"aredifferent。"

"You’reright，"saidValsuddenly;"butthingsaren’twhattheywerewhenIwasyourage。There’sa’To—morrowwedie’feeling。That’swhatoldGeorgemeantaboutmyUncleSoames。Hedoesn’tmeantodieto—morrow。"

Jonsaid，quickly:"What’sthematterbetweenhimandmyfather？"

"Stablesecret，Jon。Takemyadvice，andbottleup。You’lldonogoodbyknowing。Havealiqueur？"

Jonshookhishead。

"Ihatethewaypeoplekeepthingsfromone，"hemuttered，"andthensneeratoneforbeinggreen。"

"Well，youcanaskHolly。Ifshewon’ttellyou，you’llbelieveit’sforyourowngood，Isuppose。"

Jongotup。"Imustgonow;thanksawfullyforthelunch。"

Valsmiledupathimhalf—sorry，andyetamused。Theboylookedsoupset。

"Allright！SeeyouonFriday。"

"Idon’tknow，"murmuredJon。

Andhedidnot。Thisconspiracyofsilencemadehimdesperate。Itwashumiliatingtobetreatedlikeachild！HeretracedhismoodystepstoStrattonStreet。ButhewouldgotoherClubnow，andfindouttheworst！TohisenquirythereplywasthatMissForsytewasnotintheClub。Shemightbeinperhapslater。ShewasofteninonMonday——theycouldnotsay。Jonsaidhewouldcallagain，and，crossingintotheGreenPark，flunghimselfdownunderatree。Thesunwasbright，andabreezeflutteredtheleavesoftheyounglime—

treebeneathwhichhelay;buthisheartached。Suchdarknessseemedgatheredroundhishappiness。HeheardBigBenchime"Three"abovethetraffic。Thesoundmovedsomethinginhim，and，takingoutapieceofpaper，hebegantoscribbleonitwithapencil。Hehadjottedastanza，andwassearchingthegrassforanotherverse，whensomethinghardtouchedhisshoulder—agreenparasol。ThereabovehimstoodFleur！

"Theytoldmeyou’dbeen，andwerecomingback。SoIthoughtyoumightbeouthere;andyouare——it’sratherwonderful！"

"Oh，Fleur！Ithoughtyou’dhaveforgottenme。"

"WhenItoldyouthatIshouldn’t！"

Jonseizedherarm。

"It’stoomuchluck！Let’sgetawayfromthisside。"HealmostdraggedheronthroughthattoothoughtfullyregulatedPark，tofindsomecoverwheretheycouldsitandholdeachother’shands。

"Hasn’tanybodycutin？"hesaid，gazingroundatherlashes，insuspenseabovehercheeks。

"Thereisayoungidiot，buthedoesn’tcount。"

Jonfeltatwitchofcompassionforthe—youngidiot。

"YouknowI’vehadsunstroke;Ididn’ttellyou。"

"Really！Wasitinteresting？"

"No。Motherwasanangel。Hasanythinghappenedtoyou？"

"Nothing。ExceptthatIthinkI’vefoundoutwhat’swrongbetweenourfamilies，Jon。"

Hisheartbeganbeatingveryfast。

"Ibelievemyfatherwantedtomarryyourmother，andyourfathergotherinstead。"

"Oh！"

"Icameonaphotoofher;itwasinaframebehindaphotoofme。

Ofcourse，ifhewasveryfondofher，thatwouldhavemadehimprettymad，wouldn’tit？"

Jonthoughtforaminute。"Notifshelovedmyfatherbest。"

"Butsupposetheywereengaged？"

"Ifwewereengaged，andyoufoundyoulovedsomebodybetter，Imightgocracked，butIshouldn’tgrudgeityou。"

"Ishould。Youmustn’teverdothatwithme，Jon。

"MyGod！Notmuch！"

"Idon’tbelievethathe’severreallycaredformymother。"

Jonwassilent。Val’swords——thetwopastmastersintheClub！

"Yousee，wedon’tknow，"wentonFleur;"itmayhavebeenagreatshock。Shemayhavebehavedbadlytohim。Peopledo。"

"Mymotherwouldn’t。"

Fleurshruggedhershoulders。"Idon’tthinkweknowmuchaboutourfathersandmothers。Wejustseetheminthelightofthewaytheytreatus;butthey’vetreatedotherpeople，youknow，beforewewereborn—plenty，Iexpect。Yousee，they’rebothold。Lookatyourfather，withthreeseparatefamilies！"

"Isn’tthereanyplace，"criedJon，"inallthisbeastlyLondonwherewecanbealone？"

"Onlyataxi。"

"Let’sgetone，then。"

Whentheywereinstalled，Fleuraskedsuddenly:"AreyougoingbacktoRobinHill？Ishouldliketoseewhereyoulive，Jon。I’mstayingwithmyauntforthenight，butIcouldgetbackintimefordinner。Iwouldn’tcometothehouse，ofcourse。"

Jongazedatherenraptured。

"Splendid！Icanshowityoufromthecopse，weshan’tmeetanybody。

There’satrainatfour。"

ThegodofpropertyandhisForsytesgreatandsmall，leisured，official，commercial，orprofessional，liketheworkingclasses，stillworkedtheirsevenhoursaday，sothatthosetwoofthefourthgenerationtravelleddowntoRobinHillinanemptyfirst—classcarriage，dustyandsun—warmed，ofthattooearlytrain。Theytravelledinblissfulsilence，holdingeachother’shands。

Atthestationtheysawnooneexceptporters，andavillagerortwounknowntoJon，andwalkedoutupthelane，whichsmelledofdustandhoneysuckle。

ForJon——sureofhernow，andwithoutseparationbeforehim——itwasamiraculousdawdle，morewonderfulthanthoseontheDowns，oralongtheriverThames。Itwaslove—in—a—mist——oneofthoseilluminedpagesofLife，whereeverywordandsmile，andeverylighttouchtheygaveeachotherwereaslittlegoldandredandbluebutterfliesandflowersandbirdsscrolledinamongthetext——ahappycommuning，withoutafterthought，whichlastedthirty—sevenminutes。Theyreachedthecoppiceatthemilkinghour。Jonwouldnottakeherasfarasthefarmyard;onlytowhereshecouldseethefieldleadinguptothegardens，andthehousebeyond。Theyturnedinamongthelarches，andsuddenly，atthewindingofthepath，cameonIrene，sittingonanoldlogseat。

Therearevariouskindsofshocks:tothevertebrae;tothenerves;

tomoralsensibility;and，morepotentandpermanent，topersonaldignity。ThislastwastheshockJonreceived，comingthusonhismother。Hebecamesuddenlyconsciousthathewasdoinganindelicatething。TohavebroughtFleurdownopenly——yes！Buttosneakherinlikethis！Consumedwithshame，heputonafrontasbrazenashisnaturewouldpermit。