Those ignorant of Forsyte 'Change would not, perhaps, foresee all the
stir made by Irene's visit to the house.
After Swithin had related at Timothy's the full story of his memorable
drive, the same, with the least suspicion of curiosity, the merest touch
of malice, and a real desire to do good, was passed on to June.
"And what a dreadful thing to say, my dear!" ended Aunt Juley; "that
about not going home. What did she mean?"
It was a strange recital for the girl. She heard it flushing painfully,
and, suddenly, with a curt handshake, took her departure.
"Almost rude!" Mrs. Small said to Aunt Hester, when June was gone.
The proper construction was put on her reception of the news. She was
upset. Something was therefore very wrong. Odd! She and Irene had been
such friends!
It all tallied too well with whispers and hints that had been going
about for some time past. Recollections of Euphemia's account of the
visit to the theatre--Mr. Bosinney always at Soames's? Oh, indeed! Yes,
of course, he would be about the house! Nothing open. Only upon the
greatest, the most important provocation was it necessary to say
anything open on Forsyte 'Change. This machine was too nicely adjusted;
a hint, the merest trifling expression of regret or doubt, sufficed to
set the family soul so sympathetic--vibrating. No one desired that harm
should come of these vibrations--far from it; they were set in motion
with the best intentions, with the feeling, that each member of the
family had a stake in the family soul.
And much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip; it would frequently
result in visits of condolence being made, in accordance with the
customs of Society, thereby conferring a real benefit upon the
sufferers, and affording consolation to the sound, who felt pleasantly
that someone at all events was suffering from that from which they
themselves were not suffering. In fact, it was simply a desire to keep
things well-aired, the desire which animates the Public Press, that
brought James, for instance, into communication with Mrs. Septimus,
Mrs. Septimus, with the little Nicholases, the little Nicholases with
who-knows-whom, and so on. That great class to which they had risen,
and now belonged, demanded a certain candour, a still more certain
reticence. This combination guaranteed their membership.
Many of the younger Forsytes felt, very naturally, and would openly
declare, that they did not want their affairs pried into; but so
powerful was the invisible, magnetic current of family gossip, that for
the life of them they could not help knowing all about everything. It
was felt to be hopeless.