The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

He found the front drawing-room full. It was full enough at the best

of times--without visitors--without any one in it--for Timothy and his

sisters, following the tradition of their generation, considered that a

room was not quite 'nice' unless it was 'properly' furnished. It

held, therefore, eleven chairs, a sofa, three tables, two cabinets,

innumerable knicknacks, and part of a large grand piano. And now,

occupied by Mrs. Small, Aunt Hester, by Swithin, James, Rachel,

Winifred, Euphemia, who had come in again to return 'Passion and

Paregoric' which she had read at lunch, and her chum Frances, Roger's

daughter (the musical Forsyte, the one who composed songs), there was

only one chair left unoccupied, except, of course, the two that nobody

ever sat on--and the only standing room was occupied by the cat, on whom

old Jolyon promptly stepped.

In these days it was by no means unusual for Timothy to have so many

visitors. The family had always, one and all, had a real respect

for Aunt Ann, and now that she was gone, they were coming far more

frequently to The Bower, and staying longer.

Swithin had been the first to arrive, and seated torpid in a red satin

chair with a gilt back, he gave every appearance of lasting the others

out. And symbolizing Bosinney's name 'the big one,' with his great

stature and bulk, his thick white hair, his puffy immovable shaven face,

he looked more primeval than ever in the highly upholstered room.

His conversation, as usual of late, had turned at once upon Irene, and

he had lost no time in giving Aunts Juley and Hester his opinion with

regard to this rumour he heard was going about. No--as he said--she

might want a bit of flirtation--a pretty woman must have her fling; but

more than that he did not believe. Nothing open; she had too much good

sense, too much proper appreciation of what was due to her position, and

to the family! No sc--, he was going to say 'scandal' but the very idea

was so preposterous that he waved his hand as though to say--'but let

that pass!'

Granted that Swithin took a bachelor's view of the situation--still what

indeed was not due to that family in which so many had done so well for

themselves, had attained a certain position? If he had heard in dark,

pessimistic moments the words 'yeomen' and 'very small beer' used in

connection with his origin, did he believe them?

No! he cherished, hugging it pathetically to his bosom the secret theory

that there was something distinguished somewhere in his ancestry.

"Must be," he once said to young Jolyon, before the latter went to

the bad. "Look at us, we've got on! There must be good blood in us

somewhere."