man of property-第8章

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tain　her。　　Between　the　points　of　his　collar　he　gave　his　head　the　first　small；　painful　oscillation　of　the　evening。

〃Adolf！〃　he　said。　　〃Put　in　another　bottle。〃

He　himself　might　drink　a　good　deal；　for；　thanks　to　that　prescription　of　Blight's；　he　found　himself　extremely　well；　and　he　had　been　careful　to　take　no　lunch。　　He　had　not　felt　so　well　for　weeks。　　Puffing　out　his　lower　lip；　he　gave　his　last　instructions：

〃Adolf；　the　least　touch　of　the　West　India　when　you　come　to　the　ham。〃

Passing　into　the　anteroom；　he　sat　down　on　the　edge　of　a　chair；　with　his　knees　apart；　and　his　tall；　bulky　form　was　wrapped　at　once　in　an　expectant；　strange；　primeval　immobility。　　He　was　ready　to　rise　at　a　moment's　notice。　　He　had　not　given　a　dinner…party　for　months。　　This　dinner　in　honour　of　June's　engagement　had　seemed　a　bore　at　first　（among　Forsytes　the　custom　of　solemnizing　engagements　by　feasts　was　religiously　observed）；　but　the　labours　of　sending　invitations　and　ordering　the　repast　over；　he　felt　pleasantly　stimulated。

And　thus　sitting；　a　watch　in　his　hand；　fat；　and　smooth；　and　golden；　like　a　flattened　globe　of　butter；　he　thought　of　nothing。

A　long　man；　with　side　whiskers；　who　had　once　been　in　Swithin's　service；　but　was　now　a　greengrocer；　entered　and　proclaimed：

〃Mrs。　Chessman；　Mrs。　Septimus　Small！〃

Two　ladies　advanced。　　The　one　in　front；　habited　entirely　in　red；　had　large；　settled　patches　of　the　same　colour　in　her　cheeks；　and　a　hard；　dashing　eye。　　She　walked　at　Swithin；　holding　out　a　hand　cased　in　a　long；　primrose…coloured　glove：

Well！　　Swithin；〃　she　said；　〃I　haven't　seen　you　for　ages。　　How　are　you？　　Why；　my　dear　boy；　how　stout　you're　getting！〃

The　fixity　of　Swithin's　eye　alone　betrayed　emotion。　　A　dumb　and　grumbling　anger　swelled　his　bosom。　　It　was　vulgar　to　be　stout；　to　talk　of　being　stout；　he　had　a　chest；　nothing　more。　　Turning　to　his　sister；　he　grasped　her　hand；　and　said　in　a　tone　of　command：

〃Well；　Juley。〃

Mrs。　Septimus　Small　was　the　tallest　of　the　four　sisters；　her　good；　round　old　face　had　gone　a　little　sour；　an　innumerable　pout　clung　all　over　it；　as　if　it　had　been　encased　in　an　iron　wire　mask　up　to　that　evening；　which；　being　suddenly　removed；　left　little　rolls　of　mutinous　flesh　all　over　her　countenance。　　Even　her　eyes　were　pouting。　　It　was　thus　that　she　recorded　her　permanent　resentment　at　the　loss　of　Septimus　Small。

She　had　quite　a　reputation　for　saying　the　wrong　thing；　and；　tenacious　like　all　her　breed；　she　would　hold　to　it　when　she　had　said　it；　and　add　to　it　another　wrong　thing；　and　so　on。　　With　the　decease　of　her　husband　the　family　tenacity；　the　family　matter…of…factness；　had　gone　sterile　within　her。　　A　great　talker；　when　allowed；　she　would　converse　without　the　faintest　animation　for　hours　together；　relating；　with　epic　monotony；　the　innumerable　occasions　on　which　Fortune　had　misused　her；　nor　did　she　ever　perceive　that　her　　hearers　sympathized　with　Fortune；　for　her　heart　was　kind。

Having　sat；　poor　soul；　long　by　the　bedside　of　Small　（a　man　of　poor　constitution）；　she　had　acquired；　the　habit；　and　there　were　countless　subsequent　occasions　when　she　had　sat　immense　periods　of　time　to　amuse　sick　people；　children；　and　other　helpless　persons；　and　she　could　never　divest　herself　of　the　feeling　that　the　world　was　the　most　ungrateful　place　anybody　could　live　in。　Sunday　after　Sunday　she　sat　at　the　feet　of　that　extremely　witty　preacher；　the　Rev。　Thomas　Scoles；　who　exercised　a　great　influence　　over　her；　but　she　succeeded　in　convincing　everybody　that　even　this　was　a　misfortune。　　She　had　passed　into　a　proverb　in　the　family；　and　when　anybody　was　observed　to　be　peculiarly　distressing；　he　was　known　as　a　regular　'Juley。'　The　habit　of　her　mind　would　have　killed　anybody　but　a　Forsyte　at　forty；　but　she　was　seventy…two；　and　had　never　looked　better。　　And　one　felt　that　there　were　capacities　for　enjoyment　about　her　which　might　yet　come　out。　　She　owned　three　canaries；　the　cat　Tommy；　and　half　a　parrotin　common　with　her　sister　Hester；and　these　poor　creatures　（kept　carefully　out　of　Timothy's　wayhe　was　nervous　about　animals）；　unlike　human　beings；　recognising　that　she　could　not　help　being　blighted；　attached　themselves　to　her　passionately。

She　was　sombrely　magnificent　this　evening　in　black　bombazine；　with　a　mauve　front　cut　in　a　shy　triangle；　and　crowned　with　a　black　velvet　ribbon　round　the　base　of　her　thin　throat；　black　and

mauve　for　evening　wear　was　esteemed　very　chaste　by　nearly　every　Forsyte。

Pouting　at　Swithin；　she　said：

〃Ann　has　been　asking　for　you。　　You　haven't　been　near　us　for　an　age！〃

Swithin　put　his　thumbs　within　the　armholes　of　his　waistcoat；　and　replied：

〃Ann's　getting　very　shaky；　she　ought　to　have　a　doctor！〃

〃Mr。　and　Mrs。　Nicholas　Forsyte！〃

Nicholas　Forsyte；　cocking　his　rectangular　eyebrows；　wore　a　smile。　He　had　succeeded　during　the　day　in　bringing　to　fruition　a　scheme　for　the　employment　of　a　tribe　from　Upper　India　in　the　gold…mines　of　Ceylon。　　A　pet　plan；　carried　at　last　in　the　teeth　of　great　difficultieshe　was　justly　pleased。　　It　would　double　the　output　of　his　mines；　and；　as　he　had　often　forcibly　argued；　all　experience　tended　to　show　that　a　man　must　die；　and　whether　he　died　of　a　miserable　old　age　in　his　own　country；　or　prematurely　of　damp　in　the　bottom　of　a　foreign　mine；　was　surely　of　little　consequence；　provided　that　by　a　change　in　his　mode　of　life　he　benefited　the　British　Empire。

His　ability　was　undoubted。　　Raising　his　broken　nose　towards　his　listener；　he　would　add：

〃For　want　of　a　few　hundred　of　these　fellows　we　haven't　paid　a　dividend　for　years；　and　look　at　the　price　of　the　shares。　　I　can't　get　ten　shillings　for　them。〃

He　had　been　at　Yarmouth；　too；　and　had　come　back　feeling　that　he　had　added　at　least　ten　years　to　his　own　life。　　He　grasped　Swithin's　hand；　exclaiming　in　a　jocular　voice：

〃Well；　so　here　we　are　again！〃

Mrs。　Nicholas；　an　effete　woman；　smiled　a　smile　of　frightened　jollity　behind　his　back。

〃Mr。　and　Mrs。　James　Forsyte！　　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Soames　Forsyte！〃

Swithin　drew　his　heels　together；　his　deportment　ever　admirable。

〃Well；　James；　well　Emily！　　How　are　you；　Soames？　　How　do　you　do？〃

His　hand　enclosed　Irene's；　and　his　eyes　swelled。　　She　was　a　pretty　womana　little　too　pale；　but　her　figure；　her　eyes；　her　teeth！　　Too　good　for　that　chap　Soames！

The　gods　had　given　Irene　dark　brown　eyes　and　golden　hair；　that　strange　combination；　provocative　of　men's　glances；　which　is　said　to　be　the　mark　of　a　weak　character。　　And　the　full；　soft　pallor　of　her　neck　and　shoulders；　above　a　gold…coloured　frock；　gave　to　her　personality　an　alluring　strangeness。

Soames　stood　behind；　his　eyes　fastened　on　his　wife's　neck。　　The　hands　of　Swithin's　watch；　which　he　still　held　open　in　his　hand；　had　left　eight　behind；　it　was　half　an　hour　beyond　his　dinner…timehe　had　had　no　lunchand　a　strange　primeval　impatience　surged　up　within　him。

〃It's　not　like　Jolyon　to　be　late！〃　he　said　to　Irene；　with　uncontrollable　vexation。　　〃I　suppose　it'll　be　June　keeping　him！〃

〃People　in　love　are　always　late；〃　she　answered。

Swithin　stared　at　her；　a　dusky　orange　dyed　his　cheeks。

〃They've　no　business　to　be。　　Some　fashionable　nonsense！〃


And　behind　this　outburst　the　inarticulate　violence　of　primitive　generations　seemed　to　mutter　and　grumble。

〃Tell　me　what　you　think　of　my　new　star；　Uncle　Swithin；〃　said　Irene　softly。

Among　the　lace　in　the　bosom　of　her　dress　was　shining　a　five…pointed　star；　made　of　eleven　diamonds。　　Swithin　looked　at　the　star。　　He　had　a　pretty　taste　in　stones；　no　question　could　have　been　more　sympathetically　devised　to　distract　his　attention。

〃Who　gave　you　that？〃　he　asked。

〃Soames。〃

There　was　no　change　in　her　face；　but　Swithin's　pale　eyes　bulged　as　though　he　might　suddenly　have　been　afflicted　with　insight。

〃I　dare　say　you're　dull　at　home；〃　he　said。　　〃Any　day　you　like　to　come　and　dine　with　me；　I'll　give　you　as　good　a　bottle　of　wine　as　you'll　get　in　London。〃

Miss　June　ForsyteMr。　Jolyon　Forsyte！。。。　　Mr。　Boswainey！。。。〃

Swithin　moved　his　arm；　and　said　in　a　rumbling　voice：

〃Dinner；　nowdinner！〃

He　took　in　Irene；　on　the　ground　that　he　had　not　entertained　her　since　she　was　a　bride。　　June　was　the　portion　of　Bosinney；　who　was　placed　between　Irene　and　his　fiancee。　　On　the　other　side　of　June　was　James　with　Mrs。　Nicholas；　then　old　Jolyon　with　Mrs。　James；　Nicholas　with　Hatty　Chessman；　Soames　with　Mrs。　Small；　completing；　the　circle　to　Swithin　again。

Family　dinners　of　the　Forsytes　observe　certain　traditions。　　There　are；　for　instance；　no　hors　d'oeuvre。　　The　reason　for　this　is　unknown。　　Theory　among　the　younger　members　traces　it　to　the　disgraceful　price　of　oysters；　it　is　more　probably　due　to　a　desire　to　come　to　the　point；　to　a　good　practical　sense　deciding　at　once　that　hors　d'oeuvre　are　but　poor　things。　　The　Jameses　alone；　unable　to　withstand　a　custom　almost　universal　in　Park　Lane；　are　now　and　then　unfaithful。

A　silent；　almost　morose；　inattention　to　each　other　succeeds　to　the　subsidence　into　their　seats；　lasting　till　well　into　the　first　entree；　but　interspersed　with　remarks　such　as；　〃Tom's　bad　again；　I　can't　tell　what's　the　matter　with　him！〃　　〃I　suppose　Ann　doesn't　come　down　in　the　mornings？〃〃What's　the　name　of　your　doctor；　Fanny？　　〃Stubbs？　　He's　a　quack！〃〃Winifred？　　She's　got　too　many　children。　　Four；　isn't　it？　　She's　as　thin　as　a　lath！〃〃What　d'you　give　for　this　sherry；　Swithin？　　Too　dry　for　me！〃

With　the　second　glass　of　champagne；　a　kind　of　hum　makes　itself　heard；　which；　when　divested　of　casual；　accessories　and　resolved　into　its　primal　element；　is　found　to　be　James　telling　a　story；　and　this　goes　on　for　a　long　time；　encroaching　sometimes　even　upon　what　must　universally　be　recognised　as　the　crowning　point　of　a　Forsyte　feast'the　saddle　of　mutton。'

No　Forsyte　has　given　a　dinner　without　providing　a　saddle　of　mutton。　　There　is　something　in　its　succulent　solidity　which　makes　it　suitable　to　people　'of　a　certain　position。'　　It　is　nourishing　and　tasty；　the　sort　of　thing　a　man　remembers　eating。　　It　has　a　past　and　a　future；　like　a　deposit　paid　into　a　bank；　and　it　is　something　that　can　be　argued　about。

Each　branch　of　the　family　tenaciously　held　to　a　particular　localityold　Jolyon　swearing　by　Dartmoor；　James　by　Welsh；　Swithin　by　Southdown；　Nicholas　maintaining　that　people　might　sneer；　but　there　was　nothing　like　New　Zealand！　　As　for　Roger；　the　'original'　of　the　brothers；　he　had　been　obliged　to　invent　a　locality　of　his　own；　and　with　an　ingenuity　worthy　of　a　man　who　had　devised　a　new　profession　for　his　sons；　he　had　discovered　a　shop　where　they　sold　German；　on　being　remonstrated　with；　he　had　proved　his　point　by　producing　a　butcher's　bill；　which　showed　that　he　paid　more　than　any　of　the　others。　　It　was　on　this　occasion　that　old　Jolyon；　turning　to　June；　had　said　in　one　of　his　bursts　of　philosophy：

〃You　may　depend　upon　it；　they're　a　cranky　lot；　the　Forsytesand　you'll　find　it　out；　as　you　grow　older！〃

Timothy　alone　held　apart；　for　though　he　ate　saddle　of　mutton　heartily；　he　was；　he　said；　afraid　of　it。

To　anyone　interested　psychologically　in　Forsytes；　this　great　saddle…of…mutton　trait　is　of　prime　importance；　not　only　does　it　illustrate　their　tenacity；　both　collectively　and　as　individuals；　but　it　marks　them　as　belonging　in　fibre　and　instincts　to　that　great　class　which　believes　in　nourishment　and　flavour；　and　yi