第10章

Fleur，leaningoutofherwindow，heardthehallclock’smuffledchimeoftwelve，thetinysplashofafish，thesuddenshakingofanaspen’sleavesinthepuffsofbreezethatrosealongtheriver，thedistantrumbleofanighttrain，andtimeandagainthesoundswhichnonecanputanametointhedarkness，softobscureexpressionsofuncataloguedemotionsfrommanandbeast，birdandmachine，or，maybe，fromdepartedForsytes，Darties，Cardigans，takingnightstrollsbackintoaworldwhichhadoncesuitedtheirembodiedspirits。ButFleurheedednotthesesounds;herspirit，farfromdisembodied，fledwithswiftwingfromrailway—carriagetofloweryhedge，strainingafterJon，tenaciousofhisforbiddenimage，andthesoundofhisvoice，whichwastaboo。Andshecrinkledhernose，retrievingfromtheperfumeoftheriversidenightthatmomentwhenhishandslippedbetweenthemayflowersandhercheek。Longsheleanedoutinherfreakdress，keentoburnherwingsatlife’scandle;whilethemothsbrushedhercheeksontheirpilgrimagetothelamponherdressing—table，ignorantthatinaForsyte’shousethereisnoopenflame。Butatlastevenshefeltsleepy，and，forgettingherbells，drewquicklyin。

Throughtheopenwindowofhisroom，alongsideAnnette’s，Soames，wakefultoo，heardtheirthinfainttinkle，asitmightbeshakenfromstars，orthedewdropsfallingfromaflower，ifonecouldhearsuchsounds。

’Caprice！’hethought。’Ican’ttell。She’swilful。WhatshallI

do？Fleur！’

Andlongintothe"small"nighthebrooded。

PARTII

I

MOTHERANDSON

TosaythatJonForsyteaccompaniedhismothertoSpainunwillinglywouldscarcelyhavebeenadequate。Hewentasawell—natureddoggoesforawalkwithitsmistress，leavingachoicemutton—boneonthelawn。Hewentlookingbackatit。Forsytesdeprivedoftheirmutton—bonesarewonttosulk。ButJonhadlittlesulkinessinhiscomposition。Headoredhismother，anditwashisfirsttravel。

SpainhadbecomeItalybyhissimplysaying:"I’drathergotoSpain，Mum;you’vebeentoItalysomanytimes;I’dlikeitnewtobothofus。"

Thefellowwassubtlebesidesbeingnaive。Heneverforgotthathewasgoingtoshortentheproposedtwomonthsintosixweeks，andmustthereforeshownosignofwishingtodoso。Foronewithsoenticingamutton—boneandsofixedanidea，hemadeagoodenoughtravellingcompanion，indifferenttowhereorwhenhearrived，superiortofood，andthoroughlyappreciativeofacountrystrangetothemosttravelledEnglishman。Fleur’swisdominrefusingtowritetohimwasprofound，forhereachedeachnewplaceentirelywithouthopeorfever，andcouldconcentrateimmediateattentiononthedonkeysandtumblingbells，thepriests，patios，beggars，children，crowingcocks，sombreros，cactus—hedges，oldhighwhitevillages，goats，olive—trees，greeningplains，singingbirdsintinycages，watersellers，sunsets，melons，mules，greatchurches，pictures，andswimminggrey—brownmountainsofafascinatingland。

Itwasalreadyhot，andtheyenjoyedanabsenceoftheircompatriots。

Jon，who，sofarasheknew，hadnobloodinhimwhichwasnotEnglish，wasofteninnatelyunhappyinthepresenceofhisowncountrymen。Hefelttheyhadnononsenseaboutthem，andtookamorepracticalviewofthingsthanhimself。Heconfidedtohismotherthathemustbeanunsociablebeast——itwasjollytobeawayfromeverybodywhocouldtalkaboutthethingspeopledidtalkabout。TowhichIrenehadrepliedsimply:

"Yes，Jon，Iknow。"

Inthisisolationhehadunparalleledopportunitiesofappreciatingwhatfewsonscanapprehend，thewhole—heartednessofamother’slove。Knowledgeofsomethingkeptfromhermadehim，nodoubt，undulysensitive;andaSouthernpeoplestimulatedhisadmirationforhertypeofbeauty，whichhehadbeenaccustomedtohearcalledSpanish，butwhichhenowperceivedtobenosuchthing。HerbeautywasneitherEnglish，French，Spanish，norItalian——itwasspecial！

Heappreciated，too，asneverbefore，hismother’ssubtletyofinstinct。Hecouldnottell，forinstance，whethershehadnoticedhisabsorptioninthatGoyapicture，"LaVendimia，"orwhethersheknewthathehadslippedbackthereafterlunchandagainnextmorning，tostandbeforeitfullhalfanhour，asecondandthirdtime。ItwasnotFleur，ofcourse，butlikeenoughtogivehimheartache——sodeartolovers——rememberingherstandingatthefootofhisbedwithherhandheldaboveherhead。TokeepapostcardreproductionofthispictureinhispocketandslipitouttolookatbecameforJononeofthosebadhabitswhichsoonorlatedisclosethemselvestoeyessharpenedbylove，fear，orjealousy。Andhismother’sweresharpenedbyallthree。InGranadahewasfairlycaught，sittingonasun—warmedstonebenchinalittlebattlementedgardenontheAlhambrahill，whenceheoughttohavebeenlookingattheview。Hismother，hehadthought，wasexaminingthepottedstocksbetweenthepolledacacias，whenhervoicesaid:

"IsthatyourfavouriteGoya，Jon？"

Hechecked，toolate，amovementsuchashemighthavemadeatschooltoconcealsomesurreptitiousdocument，andanswered:"Yes。"

"Itcertainlyismostcharming;butIthinkIpreferthe’Quitasol’

YourfatherwouldgocrazyaboutGoya;Idon’tbelievehesawthemwhenhewasinSpainin’92。"

In’92——nineyearsbeforehehadbeenborn！Whathadbeenthepreviousexistencesofhisfatherandhismother？Iftheyhadarighttoshareinhisfuture，surelyhehadarighttoshareintheirpasts。Helookedupather。Butsomethinginherface——alookoflifehard—lived，themysteriousimpressofemotions，experience，andsuffering—seemed，withitsincalculabledepth，itspurchasedsanctity，tomakecuriosityimpertinent。Hismothermusthavehadawonderfullyinterestinglife;shewassobeautiful，andso——so——buthecouldnotframewhathefeltabouther。Hegotup，andstoodgazingdownatthetown，attheplainallgreenwithcrops，andtheringofmountainsglamorousinsinkingsunlight。HerlifewaslikethepastofthisoldMoorishcity，full，deep，remote——hisownlifeasyetsuchababyofathing，hopelesslyignorantandinnocent！

TheysaidthatinthosemountainstotheWest，whichrosesheerfromtheblue—greenplain，asifoutofasea，Phoenicianshaddwelt——adark，strange，secretrace，abovetheland！Hismother’slifewasasunknowntohim，assecret，asthatPhoenicianpastwastothetowndownthere，whosecockscrowedandwhosechildrenplayedandclamouredsogaily，dayin，dayout。Hefeltaggrievedthatsheshouldknowallabouthimandhenothingaboutherexceptthatshelovedhimandhisfather，andwasbeautiful。Hiscallowignorance——

hehadnotevenhadtheadvantageoftheWar，likenearlyeverybodyelse！——madehimsmallinhisowneyes。

Thatnight，fromthebalconyofhisbedroom，hegazeddownontheroofofthetown——asifinlaidwithhoneycombofjet，ivory，andgold;and，longafter，helayawake，listeningtothecryofthesentryasthehoursstruck，andforminginhisheadtheselines:

"Voiceinthenightcrying，downintheoldsleepingSpanishcitydarkenedunderherwhitestars！

Whatsaysthevoice—itsclear—lingeringanguish？

Justthewatchman，tellinghisdatelesstaleofsafety？

Justaroad—man，flingingtothemoonhissong？

No！Tisonedeprived，whoselover’sheartisweeping，Justhiscry:’Howlong？’"

Theword"deprived"seemedtohimcoldandunsatisfactory，but"bereaved"wastoofinal，andnootherwordoftwosyllablesshort—

longcametohim，whichwouldenablehimtokeep"whoselover’sheartisweeping。"Itwaspasttwobythetimehehadfinishedit，andpastthreebeforehewenttosleep，havingsaiditovertohimselfatleasttwenty—fourtimes。NextdayhewroteitoutandencloseditinoneofthoseletterstoFleurwhichhealwaysfinishedbeforehewentdown，soastohavehismindfreeandcompanionable。

Aboutnoonthatsameday，onthetiledterraceoftheirhotel，hefeltasuddendullpaininthebackofhishead，aqueersensationintheeyes，andsickness。Thesunhadtouchedhimtooaffectionately。

Thenextthreedayswerepassedinsemi—darkness，andadulled，achingindifferencetoallexceptthefeeloficeonhisforeheadandhismother’ssmile。Shenevermovedfromhisroom，neverrelaxedhernoiselessvigilance，whichseemedtoJonangelic。Butthereweremomentswhenhewasextremelysorryforhimself，andwishedterriblythatFleurcouldseehim。Severaltimeshetookapoignantimaginaryleaveofherandoftheearth，tearsoozingoutofhiseyes。Heevenpreparedthemessagehewouldsendtoherbyhismother——whowouldregrettoherdyingdaythatshehadeversoughttoseparatethem——

hispoormother！Hewasnotslow，however，inperceivingthathehadnowhisexcuseforgoinghome。

Towardhalf—pastsixeacheveningcamea"gasgacha"ofbells——acascadeoftumblingchimes，mountingfromthecitybelowandfallingbackchimeonchime。Afterlisteningtothemonthefourthdayhesaidsuddenly:

"I’dliketobebackinEngland，Mum，thesun’stoohot。"

"Verywell，darling。Assoonasyou’refittotravel"Andatoncehefeltbetter，and——meaner。

Theyhadbeenoutfiveweekswhentheyturnedtowardhome。Jon’sheadwasrestoredtoitspristineclarity，buthewasconfinedtoahatlinedbyhismotherwithmanylayersoforangeandgreensilkandhestillwalkedfromchoiceintheshade。Asthelongstruggleofdiscretionbetweenthemdrewtoitsclose，hewonderedmoreandmorewhethershecouldseehiseagernesstogetbacktothatwhichshehadbroughthimawayfrom。CondemnedbySpanishProvidencetospendadayinMadridbetweentheirtrains，itwasbutnaturaltogoagaintothePrado。JonwaselaboratelycasualthistimebeforehisGoyagirl。Nowthathewasgoingbacktoher，hecouldaffordalesserscrutiny。Itwashismotherwholingeredbeforethepicture，saying:

"Thefaceandthefigureofthegirlareexquisite。"

Jonheardheruneasily。Didsheunderstand？Buthefeltoncemorethathewasnomatchforherinself—controlandsubtlety。Shecould，insomesupersensitiveway，ofwhichhehadnotthesecret，feelthepulseofhisthoughts;sheknewbyinstinctwhathehopedandfearedandwished。Itmadehimterriblyuncomfortableandguilty，having，beyondmostboys，aconscience。Hewishedshewouldbefrankwithhim，healmosthopedforanopenstruggle。Butnonecame，andsteadily，silently，theytravellednorth。Thusdidhefirstlearnhowmuchbetterthanmenwomenplayawaitinggame。InParistheyhadagaintopauseforaday。Jonwasgrievedbecauseitlastedtwo，owingtocertainmattersinconnectionwithadressmaker;

asifhismother，wholookedbeautifulinanything，hadanyneedofdresses！ThehappiestmomentofhistravelwasthatwhenhesteppedontotheFolkestoneboat。

Standingbythebulwarkrail，withherarminhis，shesaid"I’mafraidyouhaven’tenjoyeditmuch，Jon。Butyou’vebeenverysweettome。"

Jonsqueezedherarm。

"OhIyes，I’veenjoyeditawfully—exceptformyheadlately。"

Andnowthattheendhadcome，hereallyhad，feelingasortofglamouroverthepastweeks——akindofpainfulpleasure，suchashehadtriedtoscrewintothoselinesaboutthevoiceinthenightcrying;afeelingsuchashehadknownasasmallboylisteningavidlytoChopin，yetwantingtocry。Andhewonderedwhyitwasthathecouldn’tsaytoherquitesimplywhatshehadsaidtohim:

"Youwereverysweettome。"Odd——onenevercouldbeniceandnaturallikethat！Hesubstitutedthewords:"Iexpectweshallbesick。"

Theywere，andreachedLondonsomewhatattenuated，havingbeenawaysixweeksandtwodays，withoutasingleallusiontothesubjectwhichhadhardlyeverceasedtooccupytheirminds。

II

FATHERSANDDAUGHTERS

DeprivedofhiswifeandsonbytheSpanishadventure，JolyonfoundthesolitudeatRobinHillintolerable。Aphilosopherwhenhehasallthathewantsisdifferentfromaphilosopherwhenhehasnot。

Accustomed，however，totheidea，ifnottotherealityofresignation，hewouldperhapshavefaceditoutbutforhisdaughterJune。Hewasa"lameduck"now，andonherconscience。Havingachieved——momentarily——therescueofanetcherinlowcircumstances，whichshehappenedtohaveinhand，sheappearedatRobinHillafortnightafterIreneandJonhadgone。JunewaslivingnowinatinyhousewithabigstudioatChiswick。AForsyteofthebestperiod，sofarasthelackofresponsibilitywasconcerned，shehadovercomethedifficultyofareducedincomeinamannersatisfactorytoherselfandherfather。TherentoftheGalleryoffCorkStreetwhichhehadboughtforherandherincreasedincometaxhappeningtobalance，ithadbeenquitesimpl——shenolongerpaidhimtherent。

TheGallerymightbeexpectednowatanytime，aftereighteenyearsofbarrenusufruct，topayitsway，sothatshewassureherfatherwouldnotfeelit。Throughthisdeviceshestillhadtwelvehundredayear，andbyreducingwhatsheate，and，inplaceoftwoBelgiansinapoorway，employingoneAustrianinapoorer，practicallythesamesurplusforthereliefofgenius。AfterthreedaysatRobinHillshecarriedherfatherbackwithhertoTown。Inthosethreedaysshehadstumbledonthesecrethehadkeptfortwoyears，andhadinstantlydecidedtocurehim。Sheknew，infact，theveryman。

Hehaddonewonderswith。PaulPost——thatpainteralittleinadvanceofFuturism;andshewasimpatientwithherfatherbecausehiseyebrowswouldgoup，andbecausehehadheardofneither。Ofcourse，ifhehadn’t"faith"hewouldnevergetwell！ItwasabsurdnottohavefaithinthemanwhohadhealedPaulPostsothathehadonlyjustrelapsed，fromhavingoverworked，oroverlived，himselfagain。ThegreatthingaboutthishealerwasthathereliedonNature。HehadmadeaspecialstudyofthesymptomsofNature——whenhispatientfailedinanynaturalsymptomhesuppliedthepoisonwhichcausedit——andthereyouwere！Shewasextremelyhopeful。HerfatherhadclearlynotbeenlivinganaturallifeatRobinHill，andsheintendedtoprovidethesymptoms。Hewas——shefelt——outoftouchwiththetimes，whichwasnotnatural;hisheartwantedstimulating。

InthelittleChiswickhousesheandtheAustrian——agratefulsoul，sodevotedtoJuneforrescuingherthatshewasindangerofdeceasefromoverwork——stimulatedJolyoninallsortsofways，preparinghimforhiscure。Buttheycouldnotkeephiseyebrowsdown;as，forexample，whentheAustrianwokehimateighto’clockjustashewasgoingtosleep，orJunetookTheTimesawayfromhim，becauseitwasunnaturaltoread"thatstuff"whenheoughttobetakinganinterestin"life。"Heneverfailed，indeed，tobeastonishedatherresource，especiallyintheevenings。Forhisbenefit，asshedeclared，thoughhesuspectedthatshealsogotsomethingoutofit，sheassembledtheAgesofarasitwassatellitetogenius;andwithsomesolemnityitwouldmoveupanddownthestudiobeforehimintheFox—trot，andthatmorementalformofdancing——theOne—step——whichsopulledagainstthemusic，thatJolyon’seyebrowswouldbealmostlostinhishairfromwonderatthestrainitmustimposeonthedancer’swill—power。Awarethat，hungonthelineintheWaterColourSociety，hewasabacknumbertothosewithanypretensiontobecalledartists，hewouldsitinthedarkestcornerhecouldfind，andwonderaboutrhythm，onwhichsolongagohehadbeenraised。

AndwhenJunebroughtsomegirloryoungmanuptohim，hewouldrisehumblytotheirlevelsofarasthatwaspossible，andthink:’Dearme！Thisisverydullforthem！’Havinghisfather’sperennialsympathywithYouth，heusedtogetverytiredfromenteringintotheirpointsofview。Butitwasallstimulating，andheneverfailedinadmirationofhisdaughter’sindomitablespirit。Evengeniusitselfattendedthesegatheringsnowandthen，withitsnoseononeside;andJunealwaysintroducedittoherfather。This，shefelt，wasexceptionallygoodforhim，forgeniuswasanaturalsymptomhehadneverhad——fondasshewasofhim。

Certainasamancanbethatshewashisowndaughter，heoftenwonderedwhenceshegotherself——herred—goldhair，nowgreyedintoaspecialcolour;herdirect，spiritedface，sodifferentfromhisownratherfoldedandsubtilisedcountenance，herlittlelithefigure，whenheandmostoftheForsytesweretall。Andhewoulddwellontheoriginofspecies，anddebatewhethershemightbeDanishorCeltic。Celtic，hethought，fromherpugnacity，andhertasteinfilletsanddjibbahs。ItwasnottoomuchtosaythathepreferredhertotheAgewithwhichshewassurrounded，youthfulthough，forthegreaterpart，itwas。Shetook，however，toomuchinterestinhisteeth，forhestillhadsomeofthosenaturalsymptoms。Herdentistatoncefound"Staphylococcusaureuspresentinpureculture"

（whichmightcauseboils，ofcourse），andwantedtotakeoutalltheteethhehadandsupplyhimwithtwocompletesetsofunnaturalsymptoms。Jolyon’snativetenacitywasroused，andinthestudiothateveninghedevelopedhisobjections。Hehadneverhadanyboils，andhisownteethwouldlasthistime。Ofcourse——Juneadmitted——theywouldlasthistimeifhedidn’thavethemout！Butifhehadmoreteethhewouldhaveabetterheartandhistimewouldbelonger。Hisrecalcitrance——shesaid——wasasymptomofhiswholeattitude;hewastakingitlyingdown。Heoughttobefighting。

WhenwashegoingtoseethemanwhohadcuredPaulPost？Jolyonwasverysorry，butthefactwashewasnotgoingtoseehim。Junechafed。Pondridge——shesaid——thehealer，wassuchafineman，andhehadsuchdifficultyinmakingtwoendsmeet，andgettinghistheoriesrecognised。Itwasjustsuchindifferenceandprejudiceasherfathermanifestedwhichwaskeepinghimback。Itwouldbesosplendidforbothofthem！

"Iperceive，"saidJolyon，"thatyouaretryingtokilltwobirdswithonestone。"

"Tocure，youmean！"criedJune。

"Mydear，it’sthesamething。"

Juneprotested。Itwasunfairtosaythatwithoutatrial。

Jolyonthoughthemightnothavethechance，ofsayingitafter。

"Dad！"criedJune，"you’rehopeless。"

"That，"saidJolyon，"isafact，butIwishtoremainhopelessaslongaspossible。Ishallletsleepingdogslie，mychild。Theyarequietatpresent。"

"That’snotgivingscienceachance，"criedJune。"You’venoideahowdevotedPondridgeis。Heputshissciencebeforeeverything。"

"Just，"repliedJolyon，puffingthemildcigarettetowhichhewasreduced，"asMr。PaulPostputshisart，eh？ArtforArt’ssake——

ScienceforthesakeofScience。Iknowthoseenthusiasticegomaniacgentry。Theyvivisectyouwithoutblinking。I’menoughofaForsytetogivethemthego—by，June。"

"Dad，"saidJune，"ifyouonlyknewhowold—fashionedthatsounds！

Nobodycanaffordtobehalf—heartednowadays。"

"I’mafraid，"murmuredJolyon，withhissmile，"that’stheonlynaturalsymptomwithwhichMr。Pondridgeneednotsupplyme。Weareborntobeextremeortobemoderate，mydear;though，ifyou’llforgivemysayingso，halfthepeoplenowadayswhobelievethey’reextremearereallyverymoderate。I’mgettingonaswellasIcanexpect，andImustleaveitatthat。"

Junewassilent，havingexperiencedinhertimetheinexorablecharacterofherfather’samiableobstinacysofarashisownfreedomofactionwasconcerned。

HowhecametoletherknowwhyIrenehadtakenJontoSpainpuzzledJolyon，forhehadlittleconfidenceinherdiscretion。Aftershehadbroodedonthenews，itbroughtarathersharpdiscussion，duringwhichheperceivedtothefullthefundamentaloppositionbetweenheractivetemperamentandhiswife’spassivity。Heevengatheredthatalittlesorenessstillremainedfromthatgeneration—oldstrugglebetweenthemoverthebodyofPhilipBosinney，inwhichthepassivehadsosignallytriumphedovertheactiveprinciple。

AccordingtoJune，itwasfoolishandevencowardlytohidethepastfromJon。Sheeropportunism，shecalledit。

"Which，"Jolyonputinmildly，"istheworkingprincipleofreallife，mydear。"

"Oh！"criedJune，"youdon’treallydefendherfornottellingJon，Dad。Ifitwerelefttoyou，youwould。"

"Imight，butsimplybecauseIknowhemustfindout，whichwillbeworsethanifwetoldhim。"

"Thenwhydon’tyoutellhim？It’sjustsleepingdogsagain。"

"Mydear，"saidJolyon，"Iwouldn’tfortheworldgoagainstIrene’sinstinct。He’sherboy。"

"Yourstoo，"criedJune。

"Whatisaman’sinstinctcomparedwithamother’s？"

"Well，Ithinkit’sveryweakofyou。"

"Idaresay，"saidJolyon，"Idaresay。"

Andthatwasallshegotfromhim;butthematterrankledinherbrain。Shecouldnotbearsleepingdogs。Andtherestirredinheratortuousimpulsetopushthemattertowarddecision。Jonoughttobetold，sothateitherhisfeelingmightbenippedinthebud，or，floweringinspiteofthepast，cometofruition。AndshedeterminedtoseeFleur，andjudgeforherself。WhenJunedeterminedonanything，delicacybecameasomewhatminorconsideration。Afterall，shewasSoames’cousin，andtheywerebothinterestedinpictures。

ShewouldgoandtellhimthatheoughttobuyaPaulPost，orperhapsapieceofsculpturebyBorisStrumolowski，andofcourseshewouldsaynothingtoherfather。ShewentonthefollowingSunday，lookingsodeterminedthatshehadsomedifficultyingettingacabatReadingstation。Therivercountrywaslovelyinthosedaysofherownmonth，andJuneachedatitsloveliness。Shewhohadpassedthroughthislifewithoutknowingwhatunionwashadaloveofnaturalbeautywhichwasalmostmadness。AndwhenshecametothatchoicespotwhereSoameshadpitchedhistent，shedismissedhercab，because，businessover，shewantedtorevelinthebrightwaterandthewoods。Sheappearedathisfrontdoor，therefore，asamerepedestrian，andsentinhercard。ItwasinJune’scharactertoknowthatwhenhernerveswereflutteringshewasdoingsomethingworthwhile。Ifone’snervesdidnotflutter，shewastakingthelineofleastresistance，andknewthatnoblenesswasnotobligingher。Shewasconductedtoadrawing—room，which，thoughnotinherstyle，showedeverymarkoffastidiouselegance。Thinking，’Toomuchtaste—

—toomanyknick—knacks，’shesawinanoldlacquer—framedmirrorthefigureofagirlcominginfromtheverandah。Clothedinwhite，andholdingsomewhiterosesinherhand，shehad，reflectedinthatsilvery—greypoolofglass，avision—likeappearance，asifaprettyghosthadcomeoutofthegreengarden。

"Howdoyoudo？"saidJune，turninground。"I’macousinofyourfather’s。"

"Oh，yes;Isawyouinthatconfectioner’s。"

"Withmyyoungstepbrother。Isyourfatherin？"

"Hewillbedirectly。He’sonlygoneforalittlewalk。"

Juneslightlynarrowedherblueeyes，andliftedherdecidedchin。

"Yourname’sFleur，isn’tit？I’veheardofyoufromHolly。WhatdoyouthinkofJon？"

Thegirlliftedtherosesinherhand，lookedatthem，andansweredcalmly:

"He’squiteaniceboy。"

"NotabitlikeHollyorme，ishe？"

"Notabit。"

’She’scool，’thoughtJune。

Andsuddenlythegirlsaid:"Iwishyou’dtellmewhyourfamiliesdon’tgeton？"

Confrontedwiththequestionshehadadvisedherfathertoanswer，Junewassilent;whetherbecausethisgirlwastryingtogetsomethingoutofher，orsimplybecausewhatonewoulddotheoreticallyisnotalwayswhatonewilldowhenitcomestothepoint。

"Youknow，"saidthegirl，"thesurestwaytomakepeoplefindouttheworstistokeepthemignorant。Myfather’stoldmeitwasaquarrelaboutproperty。ButIdon’tbelieveit;we’vebothgotheaps。Theywouldn’thavebeensobourgeoisasallthat。"

Juneflushed。Thewordappliedtohergrandfatherandfatheroffendedher。

"Mygrandfather，"shesaid，"wasverygenerous，andmyfatheris，too;neitherofthemwasintheleastbourgeois。"

"Well，whatwasitthen？"repeatedthegirl:ConsciousthatthisyoungForsytemeanthavingwhatshewanted，Juneatoncedeterminedtopreventher，andtogetsomethingforherselfinstead。

"Whydoyouwanttoknow？"

Thegirlsmelledatherroses。"Ionlywanttoknowbecausetheywon’ttellme。"

"Well，itwasaboutproperty，butthere’smorethanonekind。"

"Thatmakesitworse。NowIreallymustknow。"

June’ssmallandresolutefacequivered。Shewaswearingaroundcap，andherhairhadfluffedoutunderit。Shelookedquiteyoungatthatmoment，rejuvenatedbyencounter。

"Youknow，"shesaid，"Isawyoudropyourhandkerchief。IsthereanythingbetweenyouandJon？Because，ifso，you’dbetterdropthattoo。"

Thegirlgrewpaler，butshesmiled。

"Iftherewere，thatisn’tthewaytomakeme。"

Atthegallantryofthatreply，Juneheldoutherhand。

"Ilikeyou;butIdon’tlikeyourfather;Ineverhave。Wemayaswellbefrank。"

"Didyoucomedowntotellhimthat？"

Junelaughed。"No;Icamedowntoseeyou。"

"Howdelightfulofyou。"

Thisgirlcouldfence。

"I’mtwoandahalftimesyourage，"saidJune，"butIquitesympathize。It’shorridnottohaveone’sownway。"

Thegirlsmiledagain。"Ireallythinkyoumighttellme。"

Howthechildstucktoherpoint"It’snotmysecret。ButI’llseewhatIcando，becauseIthinkbothyouandJonoughttobetold。AndnowI’llsaygood—bye。"

"Won’tyouwaitandseeFather？"

Juneshookherhead。"HowcanIgetovertotheotherside？"

"I’llrowyouacross。"

"Look！"saidJuneimpulsively，"nexttimeyou’reinLondon，comeandseeme。ThisiswhereIlive。Igenerallyhaveyoungpeopleintheevening。ButIshouldn’ttellyourfatherthatyou’recoming。"

Thegirlnodded。

Watchinghersculltheskiffacross，Junethought:’She’sawfullyprettyandwellmade。IneverthoughtSoameswouldhaveadaughterasprettyasthis。SheandJonwouldmakealovelycouple。

Theinstincttocouple，starvedwithinherself，wasalwaysatworkinJune。ShestoodwatchingFleurrowback;thegirltookherhandoffasculltowavefarewell，andJunewalkedlanguidlyonbetweenthemeadowsandtheriver，withanacheinherheart。Youthtoyouth，likethedragon—flieschasingeachother，andlovelikethesunwarmingthemthroughandthrough。Heryouth！Solongago——whenPhilandshe——Andsince？Nothing——noonehadbeenquitewhatshehadwanted。Andsoshehadmisseditall。Butwhatacoilwasroundthosetwoyoungthings，iftheyreallywereinlove，asHollywouldhaveit——asherfather，andIrene，andSoameshimselfseemedtodread。Whatacoil，andwhatabarrier！Andtheitchforthefuture，thecontempt，asitwere，forwhatwasoverpast，whichformstheactiveprinciple，movedintheheartofonewhoeverbelievedthatwhatonewantedwasmoreimportantthanwhatotherpeopledidnotwant。Fromthebank，awhile，inthewarmsummerstillness，shewatchedthewater—lilyplantsandwillowleaves，thefishesrising;

sniffedthescentofgrassandmeadow—sweet，wonderinghowshecouldforceeverybodytobehappy。JonandFleur！Twolittlelameducks——

charmingcallowyellowlittleducks！Agreatpity！Surelysomethingcouldbedone！Onemustnottakesuchsituationslyingdown。Shewalkedon，andreachedastation，hotandcross。

Thatevening，faithfultotheimpulsetowarddirectaction，whichmademanypeopleavoidher，shesaidtoherfather:

"Dad，I’vebeendowntoseeyoungFleur。Ithinkshe’sveryattractive。It’snogoodhidingourheadsunderourwings，isit？"

ThestartledJolyonsetdownhisbarley—water，andbegancrumblinghisbread。

"It’swhatyouappeartobedoing，"hesaid。"Doyourealisewhosedaughtersheis？"

"Can’tthedeadpastburyitsdead？"

Jolyonrose。

"Certainthingscanneverbeburied。"

"Idisagree，"saidJune。"It’sthatwhichstandsinthewayofallhappinessandprogress。Youdon’tunderstandtheAge，Dad。It’sgotnouseforoutgrownthings。WhydoyouthinkitmatterssoterriblythatJonshouldknowabouthismother？Whopaysanyattentiontothatsortofthingnow？ThemarriagelawsarejustastheywerewhenSoamesandIrenecouldn’tgetadivorce，andyouhadtocomein。