第17章

Thatdecidedus，andwebecameunitedinfact。Shewasdivorced，marriedme，andyouwereborn。Wehavelivedinperfecthappiness，atleastIhave，andIbelieveyourmotheralso。Soames，soonafterthedivorce，marriedFleur’smother，andshewasborn。Thatisthestory，Jon。Ihavetoldityou，becausebytheaffectionwhichweseeyouhaveformedforthisman’sdaughteryouareblindlymovingtowardwhatmustutterlydestroyyourmother’shappiness，ifnotyourown。Idon’twishtospeakofmyself，becauseatmyagethere’snousesupposingIshallcumberthegroundmuchlonger，besides，whatI

shouldsufferwouldbemainlyonheraccount，andonyours。ButwhatIwantyoutorealiseisthatfeelingsofhorrorandaversionsuchasthosecanneverbeburiedorforgotten。Theyarealiveinherto—day。

OnlyyesterdayatLord’swehappenedtoseeSoamesForsyte。Herface，ifyouhadseenit，wouldhaveconvincedyou。Theideathatyoushouldmarryhisdaughterisanightmaretoher，Jon。IhavenothingtosayagainstFleursavethatsheishisdaughter。Butyourchildren，ifyoumarriedher，wouldbethegrandchildrenofSoames，asmuchasofyourmother，ofamanwhoonceownedyourmotherasamanmightownaslave。Thinkwhatthatwouldmean。Bysuchamarriageyouenterthecampwhichheldyourmotherprisonerandwhereinsheateherheartout。Youarejustonthethresholdoflife，youhaveonlyknownthisgirltwomonths，andhoweverdeeplyyouthinkyouloveher，Iappealtoyoutobreakitoffatonce。

Don’tgiveyourmotherthisranklingpainandhumiliationduringtherestofherlife。Youngthoughshewillalwaysseemtome，sheisfifty—seven。Exceptforustwoshehasnooneintheworld。Shewillsoonhaveonlyyou。Pluckupyourspirit，Jon，andbreakaway。

Don’tputthiscloudandbarrierbetweenyou。Don’tbreakherheart！

Blessyou，mydearboy，andagainforgivemeforallthepainthislettermustbringyou——wetriedtospareityou，butSpain——itseems—

——wasnogood。

"Everyourdevotedfather"JOLYONFORSYTE。"

Havingfinishedhisconfession，Jolyonsatwithathincheekonhishand，re—reading。Therewerethingsinitwhichhurthimsomuch，whenhethoughtofJonreadingthem，thathenearlytoretheletterup。Tospeakofsuchthingsatalltoaboy——hisownboy——tospeakoftheminrelationtohisownwifeandtheboy’sownmother，seemeddreadfultothereticenceofhisForsytesoul。AndyetwithoutspeakingofthemhowmakeJonunderstandthereality，thedeepcleavage，theineffaceablescar？Withoutthem，howjustifythisstiffingoftheboy’slove？Hemightjustaswellnotwriteatall！

Hefoldedtheconfession，andputitinhispocket。Itwas——thankHeaven！——Saturday;hehadtillSundayeveningtothinkitover;forevenifpostednowitcouldnotreachJontillMonday。Hefeltacuriousreliefatthisdelay，andatthefactthat，whethersentornot，itwaswritten。

Intherosegarden，whichhadtakentheplaceoftheoldfernery，hecouldseeIrenesnippingandpruning，withalittlebasketonherarm。Shewasneveridle，itseemedtohim，andheenviedhernowthathehimselfwasidlenearlyallhistime。Hewentdowntoher。

Sheheldupastainedgloveandsmiled。Apieceoflacetiedunderherchinconcealedherhair，andherovalfacewithitsstilldarkbrowslookedveryyoung。

"Thegreen—flyareawfulthisyear，andyetit’scold。Youlooktired，Jolyon。"

Jolyontooktheconfessionfromhispocket。"I’vebeenwritingthis。

Ithinkyououghttoseeit？"

"ToJon？"Herwholefacehadchanged，inthatinstant，becomingalmosthaggard。

"Yes;themurder’sout。"

Hegaveittoher，andwalkedawayamongtheroses。Presently，seeingthatshehadfinishedreadingandwasstandingquitestillwiththesheetsoftheletteragainstherskirt，hecamebacktoher。

"Well？"

"It’swonderfullyput。Idon’tseehowitcouldbeputbetter。

Thankyou，dear。"

"Isthereanythingyouwouldlikeleftout？"

Sheshookherhead。

"No;hemustknowall，ifhe’stounderstand。"

"That’swhatIthought，but——Ihateit！"

Hehadthefeelingthathehateditmorethanshe——tohimsexwassomucheasiertomentionbetweenmanandwomanthanbetweenmanandman;andshehadalwaysbeenmorenaturalandfrank，notdeeplysecretivelikehisForsyteself。

"Iwonderifhewillunderstand，evennow，Jolyon？He’ssoyoung;

andheshrinksfromthephysical。"

"Hegetsthatshrinkingfrommyfather，hewasasfastidiousasagirlinallsuchmatters。Woulditbebettertorewritethewholething，andjustsayyouhatedSoames？"

Ireneshookherhead。

"Hate’sonlyaword。Itconveysnothing。No，betterasitis。"

"Verywell。Itshallgoto—morrow。"

Sheraisedherfacetohis，andinsightofthebighouse’smanycreeperedwindows，hekissedher。

II

CONFESSION

Latethatsameafternoon，Jolyonhadanapintheoldarmchair。

FacedownonhiskneewasLaRotisseriedelaRefinePedauque，andjustbeforehefellasleephehadbeenthinking:’AsapeopleshallweeverreallyliketheFrench？Willtheyeverreallylikeus！’HehimselfhadalwayslikedtheFrench，feelingathomewiththeirwit，theirtaste，theircooking。IreneandhehadpaidmanyvisitstoFrancebeforetheWar，whenJonhadbeenathisprivateschool。HisromancewithherhadbeguninParis——hislastandmostenduringromance。ButtheFrench——noEnglishmancouldlikethemwhocouldnotseetheminsomesortwiththedetachedaestheticeye！Andwiththatmelancholyconclusionhehadnoddedoff。

WhenhewokehesawJonstandingbetweenhimandthewindow。Theboyhadevidentlycomeinfromthegardenandwaswaitingforhimtowake。Jolyonsmiled，stillhalfasleep。Hownicethechaplooked——

sensitive，affectionate，straight！Thenhisheartgaveanastyjump;

andaquakingsensationovercamehim。Jon！Thatconfession！Hecontrolledhimselfwithaneffort。"Why，Jon，wheredidyouspringfrom？"

Jonbentoverandkissedhisforehead。

Onlythenhenoticedthelookontheboy’sface。

"Icamehometotellyousomething，Dad。"

WithallhismightJolyontriedtogetthebetterofthejumping，gurglingsensationswithinhischest。

"Well，sitdown，oldman。Haveyouseenyourmother？"

"No。"Theboy’sflushedlookgaveplacetopallor;hesatdownonthearmoftheoldchair，as，inolddays，Jolyonhimselfusedtositbesidehisownfather，installedinitsrecesses。Rightuptothetimeoftheruptureintheirrelationshehadbeenwonttoperchthere——hadhenowreachedsuchamomentwithhisownson？Allhislifehehadhatedsceneslikepoison，avoidedrows，goneonhisownwayquietlyandletothersgoontheirs。Butnow——itseemed——attheveryendofthings，hehadascenebeforehimmorepainfulthananyhehadavoided。Hedrewavisordownoverhisemotion，andwaitedforhissontospeak。

"Father，"saidJonslowly，"FleurandIareengaged。"

’Exactly！’thoughtJolyon，breathingwithdifficulty。

"IknowthatyouandMotherdon’tliketheidea。FleursaysthatMotherwasengagedtoherfatherbeforeyoumarriedher。OfcourseI

don’tknowwhathappened，butitmustbeagesago。I’mdevotedtoher，Dad，andshesayssheistome。"

Jolyonutteredaqueersound，halflaugh，halfgroan。

"Youarenineteen，Jon，andIamseventy—two。Howarewetounderstandeachotherinamatterlikethis，eh？"

"YouloveMother，Dad;youmustknowwhatwefeel。Itisn’tfairtoustoletoldthingsspoilourhappiness，isit？"

Broughtfacetofacewithhisconfession，Jolyonresolvedtodowithoutitifbyanymeanshecould。Helaidhishandontheboy’sarm。

"Look，Jon！Imightputyouoffwithtalkaboutyourbothbeingtooyoungandnotknowingyourownminds，andallthat，butyouwouldn’tlisten，besides，itdoesn’tmeetthecase——Youth，unfortunately，curesitself。Youtalklightlyabout’oldthingslikethat，’knowingnothing——asyousaytruly——ofwhathappened。Now，haveIevergivenyoureasontodoubtmyloveforyou，ormyword？"

Atalessanxiousmomenthemighthavebeenamusedbytheconflicthiswordsaroused——theboy’seagerclasp，toreassurehimonthesepoints，thedreadonhisfaceofwhatthatreassurancewouldbringforth;buthecouldonlyfeelgratefulforthesqueeze。

"Verywell，youcanbelievewhatItellyou。Ifyoudon’tgiveupthisloveaffair，youwillmakeMotherwretchedtotheendofherdays。Believeme，mydear，thepast，whateveritwas，can’tbeburied——itcan’tindeed。"

Jongotoffthearmofthechair。

’Thegirl’——thoughtJolyon——’thereshegoes——startingupbeforehim——

lifeitself——eager，pretty，loving！’

"Ican’t，Father;howcanI——justbecauseyousaythat？Ofcourse，I

can’t！"

"Jon，ifyouknewthestoryyouwouldgivethisupwithouthesitation;youwouldhaveto！Can’tyoubelieveme？"

"HowcanyoutellwhatIshouldthink？Father，Iloveherbetterthananythingintheworld。"

Jolyon’sfacetwitched，andhesaidwithpainfulslowness:

"Betterthanyourmother，Jon？"

>Fromtheboy’sface，andhisclenchedfistsJolyonrealisedthestressandstrugglehewasgoingthrough。

"Idon’tknow，"heburstout，"Idon’tknow！ButtogiveFleurupfornothing——forsomethingIdon’tunderstand，forsomethingthatI

don’tbelievecanreallymatterhalfsomuch，willmakeme——makeme"

"Makeyoufeelusunjust，putabarrier——yes。Butthat’sbetterthangoingonwiththis。"

"Ican’t。Fleurlovesme，andIloveher。Youwantmetotrustyou;

whydon’tyoutrustme，Father？Wewouldn’twanttoknowanything——

wewouldn’tletitmakeanydifference。It’llonlymakeusbothloveyouandMotherallthemore。"

Jolyonputhishandintohisbreastpocket，butbroughtitoutagainempty，andsat，cluckinghistongueagainsthisteeth。

"Thinkwhatyourmother’sbeentoyou，Jon！Shehasnothingbutyou;

Ishan’tlastmuchlonger。"

"Whynot？Itisn’tfairto——Whynot？"

"Well，"saidJolyon，rathercoldly，"becausethedoctorstellmeI

shan’t;that’sall。"

"Oh，Dad！"criedJon，andburstintotears。

Thisdownbreakofhisson，whomhehadnotseencrysincehewasten，movedJolyonterribly。Herecognisedtothefullhowfearfullysofttheboy’sheartwas，howmuchhewouldsufferinthisbusiness，andinlifegenerally。Andhereachedouthishandhelplessly——notwishing，indeednotdaringtogetup。

"Dearman，"hesaid，"don’t——oryou’llmakeme！"

Jonsmothereddownhisparoxysm，andstoodwithfaceaverted，verystill。

’Whatnow？’thoughtJolyon。’WhatcanIsaytomovehim？’

’Bytheway，don’tspeakofthattoMother，"hesaid;"shehasenoughtofrightenherwiththisaffairofyours。Iknowhowyoufeel。

But，Jon，youknowherandmewellenoughtobesurewewouldn’twishtospoilyourhappinesslightly。Why，mydearboy，wedon’tcareforanythingbutyourhappiness——atleast，withmeit’sjustyoursandMother’sandwithherjustyours。It’sallthefutureforyouboththat’satstake。"

Jonturned。Hisfacewasdeadlypale;hiseyes，deepinhishead，seemedtoburn。

"Whatisit？Whatisit？Don’tkeepmelikethis！"

Jolyon，whoknewthathewasbeaten，thrusthishandagainintohisbreastpocket，andsatforafullminute，breathingwithdifficulty，hiseyesclosed。Thethoughtpassedthroughhismind:’I’vehadagoodlonginnings——someprettybittermoments——thisistheworst！’

Thenhebroughthishandoutwiththeletter，andsaidwithasortoffatigue:"Well，Jon，ifyouhadn’tcometo—day，Iwasgoingtosendyouthis。Iwantedtospareyou——Iwantedtospareyourmotherandmyself，butIseeit’snogood。Readit，andIthinkI’llgointothegarden。"Hereachedforwardtogetup。

Jon，whohadtakentheletter，saidquickly，"No，I’llgo";andwasgone。

Jolyonsankbackinhischair。Ablue—bottlechosethatmomenttocomebuzzingroundhimwithasortoffury;thesoundwashomely，betterthannothing……Wherehadtheboygonetoreadhisletter？

Thewretchedletter——thewretchedstory！Acruelbusiness——crueltoher——toSoames——tothosetwochildren——tohimself！……Hisheartthumpedandpainedhim。Life——itsloves——itswork——itsbeauty——itsaching，and——itsend！Agoodtime;afinetimeinspiteofall;

until——youregrettedthatyouhadeverbeenborn。Life——itworeyoudown，yetdidnotmakeyouwanttodie——thatwasthecunningevil！

Mistaketohaveaheart！Againtheblue—bottlecamebuzzing——

bringinginalltheheatandhumandscentofsummer——yes，eventhescent——asofripefruits，driedgrasses，sappyshrubs，andthevanillabreathofcows。AndouttheresomewhereinthefragranceJonwouldbereadingthatletter，turningandtwistingitspagesinhistrouble，hisbewildermentandtrouble——breakinghisheartaboutit！

ThethoughtmadeJolyonacutelymiserable。Jonwassuchatender—

heartedchap，affectionatetohisbones，andconscientious，too——itwassounfair，sodamnedunfair！HerememberedIrenesayingtohimonce:"NeverwasanyonebornmorelovingandlovablethanJon。"

PoorlittleJon！Hisworldgoneupthespout，allofasummerafternoon！Youthtookthingssohard！Andstirred，tormentedbythatvisionofYouthtakingthingshard，Jolyongotoutofhischair，andwenttothewindow。Theboywasnowherevisible。Andhepassedout。Ifonecouldtakeanyhelptohimnow——onemust！

Hetraversedtheshrubbery，glancedintothewalledgarden——noJon！

Norwherethepeachesandtheapricotswerebeginningtoswellandcolour。HepassedtheCupressustrees，darkandspiral，intothemeadow。Wherehadtheboygotto？Hadherusheddowntothecoppice——hisoldhunting—ground？Jolyoncrossedtherowsofhay。

TheywouldcockitonMondayandbecarryingthedayafter，ifrainheldoff。Oftentheyhadcrossedthisfieldtogether——handinhand，whenJonwasalittlechap。Dashit！Thegoldenagewasoverbythetimeonewasten！Hecametothepond，wherefliesandgnatsweredancingoverabrightreedysurface;andonintothecoppice。Itwascoolthere，fragrantoflarches。StillnoJon！Hecalled。Noanswer！Onthelogseathesatdown，nervous，anxious，forgettinghisownphysicalsensations。Hehadbeenwrongtolettheboygetawaywiththatletter;heoughttohavekepthimunderhiseyefromthestart！Greatlytroubled，hegotuptoretracehissteps。Atthefarm—buildingshecalledagain，andlookedintothedarkcow—house。Thereinthecool，andthescentofvanillaandammonia，awayfromflies，thethreeAlderneyswerechewingthequietcud;justmilked，waitingforevening，tobeturnedoutagainintothelowerfield。Oneturnedalazyhead，alustrouseye;Jolyoncouldseetheslobberonitsgreylowerlip。Hesaweverythingwithpassionateclearness，intheagitationofhisnerves——allthatinhistimehehadadoredandtriedtopaint——wonderoflightandshadeandcolour。NowonderthelegendputChristintoamanger——whatmoredevotionalthantheeyesandmoon—whitehornsofachewingcowinthewarmdusk！Hecalledagain。Noanswer！Andhehurriedawayoutofthecoppice，pastthepond，upthehill。Oddlyironical——nowhecametothinkofit——ifJonhadtakenthegruelofhisdiscoverydowninthecoppicewherehismotherandBosinneyinthoseolddayshadmadetheplungeofacknowledgingtheirlove。Wherehehimself，onthelogseattheSundaymorninghecamebackfromParis，hadrealisedtothefullthatIrenehadbecometheworldtohim。ThatwouldhavebeentheplaceforIronytoteartheveilfrombeforetheeyesofIrene’sboy！Buthewasnothere！Wherehadhegotto？Onemustfindthepoorchap！

Agleamofsunhadcome，sharpeningtohishurryingsensesallthebeautyoftheafternoon，ofthetalltreesandlengtheningshadows，oftheblue，andthewhiteclouds，thescentofthehay，andthecooingofthepigeons;andtheflowershapesstandingtall。Hecametotherosery，andthebeautyoftherosesinthatsuddensunlightseemedtohimunearthly。"Rose，youSpaniard！"Wonderfulthreewords！Thereshehadstoodbythatbushofdarkredroses;hadstoodtoreadanddecidethatJonmustknowitall！Heknewallnow！Hadshechosenwrong？Hebentandsniffedarose，itspetalsbrushedhisnoseandtremblinglips;nothingsosoftasarose—leaf’svelvet，exceptherneck——Irene！Onacrossthelawnhewent，uptheslope，totheoak—tree。Itstopalonewasglistening，forthesuddensunwasawayoverthehouse;thelowershadewasthick，blessedlycool——hewasgreatlyoverheated。Hepausedaminutewithhishandontheropeoftheswing——Jolly，Holly——Jon！Theoldswing！Andsuddenly，hefelthorribly——deadlyill。’I’veoverdoneit！’hethought:’byJove！I’veoverdoneit——afterall！’Hestaggereduptowardtheterrace，draggedhimselfupthesteps，andfellagainstthewallofthehouse。Heleanedtheregasping，hisfaceburiedinthehoney—

sucklethatheandshehadtakensuchtroublewiththatitmightsweetentheairwhichdriftedin。Itsfragrancemingledwithawfulpain。’Mylove！’hethought;’theboy！’Andwithagreatefforthetotteredinthroughthelongwindow，andsankintooldJolyon’schair。Thebookwasthere，apencilinit;hecaughtitup，scribbledawordontheopenpage……Hishanddropped……Soitwaslikethis——wasit？……

Therewasagreatwrench;anddarkness……

III

IRENE

WhenJonrushedawaywiththeletterinhishand，heranalongtheterraceandroundthecornerofthehouse，infearandconfusion。

Leaningagainstthecreeperedwallhetoreopentheletter。Itwaslong——verylong！Thisaddedtohisfear，andhebeganreading。Whenhecametothewords:"ItwasFleur’sfatherthatshemarried，"

everythingseemedtospinbeforehim。Hewasclosetoawindow，andenteringbyit，hepassed，throughmusic—roomandhall，uptohisbedroom。Dippinghisfaceincoldwater，hesatonhisbed，andwentonreading，droppingeachfinishedpageonthebedbesidehim。Hisfather’swritingwaseasytoread——heknewitsowell，thoughhehadneverhadaletterfromhimonequartersolong。Hereadwithadullfeeling——imaginationonlyhalfatwork。Hebestgrasped，onthatfirstreading，thepainhisfathermusthavehadinwritingsuchaletter。Heletthelastsheetfall，andinasortofmental，moralhelplessnessbegantoreadthefirstagain。Itallseemedtohimdisgusting——deadanddisgusting。Then，suddenly，ahotwaveofhorrifiedemotiontingledthroughhim。Heburiedhisfaceinhishands。Hismother！Fleur’sfather！Hetookuptheletteragain，andreadonmechanically。Andagaincamethefeelingthatitwasalldeadanddisgusting;hisownlovesodifferent！Thislettersaidhismother——andherfather！Anawfulletter！

Property！Couldtherebemenwholookedonwomenastheirproperty？

Facesseeninstreetandcountrysidecamethrongingupbeforehim——

red，stock—fishfaces;hard，dullfaces;prim，dryfaces;violentfaces;hundreds，thousandsofthem！Howcouldheknowwhatmenwhohadsuchfacesthoughtanddid？Heheldhisheadinhishandsandgroaned。Hismother！Hecaughtuptheletterandreadonagain:

"horrorandaversion—aliveinherto—day……yourchildren……

grandchildren……ofamanwhoonceownedyourmotherasamanmightownaslave……"Hegotupfromhisbed。Thiscruelshadowypast，lurkingtheretomurderhisloveandFleur’s，wastrue，orhisfathercouldneverhavewrittenit。’Whydidn’ttheytellmethefirstthing，’hethought，’thedayIfirstsawFleur？Theyknew"I’dseenher。Theywereafraid，and——now——I’ve——gotit！’Overcomebymiserytooacuteforthoughtorreason，hecreptintoaduskycorneroftheroomandsatdownonthefloor。Hesatthere，likesomeunhappylittleanimal。Therewascomfortindusk，andthefloor——asifhewerebackinthosedayswhenheplayedhisbattlessprawlingalloverit。Hesattherehuddled，hishairruffled，hishandsclaspedroundhisknees，forhowlonghedidnotknow。Hewaswrenchedfromhisblankwretchednessbythesoundofthedooropeningfromhismother’sroom。Theblindsweredownoverthewindowsofhisroom，shutupinhisabsence，andfromwherehesathecouldonlyheararustle，herfootstepscrossing，tillbeyondthebedhesawherstandingbeforehisdressing—table。Shehadsomethinginherhand。Hehardlybreathed，hopingshewouldnotseehim，andgoaway。Hesawhertouchthingsonthetableasiftheyhadsomevirtueinthem，thenfacethewindow—greyfromheadtofootlikeaghost。Theleastturnofherhead，andshemustseehim！Herlipsmoved:"Oh！Jon！"Shewasspeakingtoherself;thetoneofhervoicetroubledJon’sheart。

Hesawinherhandalittlephotograph。Sheheldittowardthelight，lookingatit——verysmall。Heknewit——oneofhimselfasatinyboy，whichshealwayskeptinherbag。Hisheartbeatfast。

And，suddenlyasifshehadheardit，sheturnedhereyesandsawhim。Atthegaspshegave，andthemovementofherhandspressingthephotographagainstherbreast，hesaid:

"Yes，it’sme。"

Shemovedovertothebed，andsatdownonit，quiteclosetohim，herhandsstillclaspingherbreast，herfeetamongthesheetsoftheletterwhichhadslippedtothefloor。Shesawthem，andherhandsgraspedtheedgeofthebed。Shesatveryupright，herdarkeyesfixedonhim。Atlastshespoke。

"Well，Jon，youknow，Isee。"

"Yes。"

"You’veseenFather？"

"Yes。"

Therewasalongsilence，tillshesaid:

"Oh！mydarling！"

"It’sallright。"Theemotionsinhimwereso，violentandsomixedthathedarednotmove——resentment，despair，andyetastrangeyearningforthecomfortofherhandonhisforehead。

"Whatareyougoingtodo？"

"Idon’tknow。"

Therewasanotherlongsilence，thenshegotup。Shestoodamoment，verystill，madealittlemovementwithherhand，andsaid:"Mydarlingboy，mymostdarlingboy，don’tthinkofme——thinkofyourself，"and，passingroundthefootofthebed，wentbackintoherroom。

Jonturned——curledintoasortofball，asmightahedgehog——intothecornermadebythetwowalls。

Hemusthavebeentwentyminutestherebeforeacryrousedhim。Itcamefromtheterracebelow。Hegotup，scared。Againcamethecry:

"Jon！"Hismotherwascalling！Heranoutanddownthestairs，throughtheemptydining—roomintothestudy。Shewaskneelingbeforetheoldarmchair，andhisfatherwaslyingbackquitewhite，hisheadonhisbreast，oneofhishandsrestingonanopenbook，withapencilclutchedinit——morestrangelystillthananythinghehadeverseen。Shelookedroundwildly，andsaid:

"Oh！Jon——he’sdead——he’sdead！"

Jonflunghimselfdown，andreachingoverthearmofthechair，wherehehadlatelybeensitting，puthislipstotheforehead。Icycold！

Howcould——howcouldDadbedead，whenonlyanhourago——！Hismother’sarmswereroundtheknees;pressingherbreastagainstthem。

"Why——whywasn’tIwithhim？"heheardherwhisper。Thenhesawthetotteringword"Irene"pencilledontheopenpage，andbrokedownhimself。Itwashisfirstsightofhumandeath，anditsunutterablestillnessblottedfromhimallotheremotion;allelse，then，wasbutpreliminarytothis！Allloveandlife，andjoy，anxiety，andsorrow，allmovement，lightandbeauty，butabeginningtothisterriblewhitestillness。Itmadeadreadfulmarkonhim;allseemedsuddenlylittle，futile，short。Hemasteredhimselfatlast，gotup，andraisedher。

"Mother！don’tcry——Mother！"

Somehourslater，whenallwasdonethathadtobe，andhismotherwaslyingdown，hesawhisfatheralone，onthebed，coveredwithawhitesheet。Hestoodforalongtimegazingatthatfacewhichhadneverlookedangry——alwayswhimsical，andkind。"Tobekindandkeepyourendup——there’snothingelseinit，"hehadonceheardhisfathersay。HowwonderfullyDadhadacteduptothatphilosophy！Heunderstoodnowthathisfatherhadknownforalongtimepastthatthiswouldcomesuddenly——known，andnotsaidaword。Hegazedwithanawedandpassionatereverence。Thelonelinessofit——justtosparehismotherandhimself！Hisowntroubleseemedsmallwhilehewaslookingatthatface。Thewordscribbledonthepage！Thefarewellword！Nowhismotherhadnoonebuthimself！Hewentupclosetothedeadface——notchangedatall，andyetcompletelychanged。Hehadheardhisfathersayoncethathedidnotbelieveinconsciousnesssurvivingdeath，orthatifitdiditmightbejustsurvivaltillthenaturalagelimitofthebodyhadbeenreached——thenaturaltermofitsinherentvitality;sothatifthebodywerebrokenbyaccident，excess，violentdisease，consciousnessmightstillpersisttill，inthecourseofNatureuninterferedwith，itwouldnaturallyhavefadedout。Ithadstruckhimbecausehehadneverheardanyoneelsesuggestit。Whentheheartfailedlikethis——surelyitwasnotquitenatural！Perhapshisfather’sconsciousnesswasintheroomwithhim。Abovethebedhungapictureofhisfather’sfather。Perhapshisconsciousness，too，wasstillalive;andhisbrother’s——hishalf—brother，whohaddiedintheTransvaal。Weretheyallgatheredroundthisbed？Jonkissedtheforehead，andstolebacktohisownroom。Thedoorbetweenitandhismother’swasajar;shehadevidentlybeenin——everythingwasreadyforhim，evensomebiscuitsandhotmilk，andtheletternolongeronthefloor。Heateanddrank，watchingthelastlightfade。

Hedidnottrytoseeintothefuture——juststaredatthedarkbranchesoftheoak—tree，levelwithhiswindow，andfeltasiflifehadstopped。Onceinthenight，turninginhisheavysleep，hewasconsciousofsomethingwhiteandstill，besidehisbed，andstartedup。

Hismother’svoicesaid:

"It’sonlyI，Jondear！"Herhandpressedhisforeheadgentlyback;

herwhitefiguredisappeared。

Alone！Hefellheavilyasleepagain，anddreamedhesawhismother’snamecrawlingonhisbed。