Man of Property | Page 5

seen this, but,
though not yet nineteen, she was notorious. Had she not said to Mrs.
Soames--who was always so beautifully dressed--that feathers were
vulgar? Mrs. Soames had actually given up wearing feathers, so
dreadfully downright was dear June!
These misgivings, this disapproval, and perfectly genuine distrust, did
not prevent the Forsytes from gathering to old Jolyon's invitation. An
'At Home' at Stanhope Gate was a great rarity; none had been held for
twelve years, not indeed, since old Mrs. Jolyon had died.
Never had there been so full an assembly, for, mysteriously united in
spite of all their differences, they had taken arms against a common
peril. Like cattle when a dog comes into the field, they stood head to
head and shoulder to shoulder, prepared to run upon and trample the
invader to death. They had come, too, no doubt, to get some notion of
what sort of presents they would ultimately be expected to give; for
though the question of wedding gifts was usually graduated in this way:
'What are you givin'? Nicholas is givin' spoons!'--so very much
depended on the bridegroom. If he were sleek, well-brushed,
prosperous-looking, it was more necessary to give him nice things; he
would expect them. In the end each gave exactly what was right and

proper, by a species of family adjustment arrived at as prices are
arrived at on the Stock Exchange--the exact niceties being regulated at
Timothy's commodious, red-brick residence in Bayswater, overlooking
the Park, where dwelt Aunts Ann, Juley, and Hester.
The uneasiness of the Forsyte family has been justified by the simple
mention of the hat. How impossible and wrong would it have been for
any family, with the regard for appearances which should ever
characterize the great upper middle-class, to feel otherwise than
uneasy!
The author of the uneasiness stood talking to June by the further door;
his curly hair had a rumpled appearance, as though he found what was
going on around him unusual. He had an air, too, of having a joke all to
himself. George, speaking aside to his brother, Eustace, said:
"Looks as if he might make a bolt of it--the dashing Buccaneer!"
This 'very singular-looking man,' as Mrs. Small afterwards called him,
was of medium height and strong build, with a pale, brown face, a
dust-coloured moustache, very prominent cheek-bones, and hollow
checks. His forehead sloped back towards the crown of his head, and
bulged out in bumps over the eyes, like foreheads seen in the
Lion-house at the Zoo. He had sherry-coloured eyes, disconcertingly
inattentive at times. Old Jolyon's coachman, after driving June and
Bosinney to the theatre, had remarked to the butler:
"I dunno what to make of 'im. Looks to me for all the world like an
'alf-tame leopard." And every now and then a Forsyte would come up,
sidle round, and take a look at him.
June stood in front, fending off this idle curiosity--a little bit of a thing,
as somebody once said, 'all hair and spirit,' with fearless blue eyes, a
firm jaw, and a bright colour, whose face and body seemed too slender
for her crown of red-gold hair.
A tall woman, with a beautiful figure, which some member of the
family had once compared to a heathen goddess, stood looking at these

two with a shadowy smile.
Her hands, gloved in French grey, were crossed one over the other, her
grave, charming face held to one side, and the eyes of all men near
were fastened on it. Her figure swayed, so balanced that the very air
seemed to set it moving. There was warmth, but little colour, in her
cheeks; her large, dark eyes were soft.
But it was at her lips--asking a question, giving an answer, with that
shadowy smile--that men looked; they were sensitive lips, sensuous and
sweet, and through them seemed to come warmth and perfume like the
warmth and perfume of a flower.
The engaged couple thus scrutinized were unconscious of this passive
goddess. It was Bosinney who first noticed her, and asked her name.
June took her lover up to the woman with the beautiful figure.
"Irene is my greatest chum," she said: "Please be good friends, you
two!"
At the little lady's command they all three smiled; and while they were
smiling, Soames Forsyte, silently appearing from behind the woman
with the beautiful figure, who was his wife, said:
"Ah! introduce me too!"
He was seldom, indeed, far from Irene's side at public functions, and
even when separated by the exigencies of social intercourse, could be
seen following her about with his eyes, in which were strange
expressions of watchfulness and longing.
At the window his father, James, was still scrutinizing the marks on the
piece of china.
"I wonder at Jolyon's allowing this engagement," he said to