The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, having

occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter connected with a

drainage scheme which was being forced by the sanitary authorities on

his brother, he mentioned it there.

It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal could be

made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though what it was going

to cost Soames before it was done with he didn't know.

Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come round to

borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and Paregoric', which

was having such a vogue--chimed in.

"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were having a

nice little chat in the Groceries."

It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really made

a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been hurrying to the

silk department of the Church and Commercial Stores--that Institution

than which, with its admirable system, admitting only guaranteed persons

on a basis of payment before delivery, no emporium can be more highly

recommended to Forsytes--to match a piece of prunella silk for her

mother, who was waiting in the carriage outside.

Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted by the

back view of a very beautiful figure. It was so charmingly proportioned,

so balanced, and so well clothed, that Euphemia's instinctive propriety

was at once alarmed; such figures, she knew, by intuition rather than

experience, were rarely connected with virtue--certainly never in her

mind, for her own back was somewhat difficult to fit.

Her suspicions were fortunately confirmed. A young man coming from the

Drugs had snatched off his hat, and was accosting the lady with the

unknown back.

It was then that she saw with whom she had to deal; the lady was

undoubtedly Mrs. Soames, the young man Mr. Bosinney. Concealing herself

rapidly over the purchase of a box of Tunisian dates, for she was

impatient of awkwardly meeting people with parcels in her hands, and

at the busy time of the morning, she was quite unintentionally an

interested observer of their little interview.

Mrs. Soames, usually somewhat pale, had a delightful colour in her

cheeks; and Mr. Bosinney's manner was strange, though attractive (she

thought him rather a distinguished-looking man, and George's name for

him, 'The Buccaneer'--about which there was something romantic--quite

charming). He seemed to be pleading. Indeed, they talked so

earnestly--or, rather, he talked so earnestly, for Mrs. Soames did not

say much--that they caused, inconsiderately, an eddy in the traffic. One

nice old General, going towards Cigars, was obliged to step quite out of

the way, and chancing to look up and see Mrs. Soames' face, he actually

took off his hat, the old fool! So like a man!