The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

"No," said Swithin, "he had had an opportunity of seeing for himself,

and what he should say was, that there was nothing in her manner to that

young Buccaneer or Bosinney or whatever his name was, different from

her manner to himself; in fact, he should rather say...." But here

the entrance of Frances and Euphemia put an unfortunate stop to the

conversation, for this was not a subject which could be discussed before

young people.

And though Swithin was somewhat upset at being stopped like this on the

point of saying something important, he soon recovered his affability.

He was rather fond of Frances--Francie, as she was called in the family.

She was so smart, and they told him she made a pretty little pot of

pin-money by her songs; he called it very clever of her.

He rather prided himself indeed on a liberal attitude towards women, not

seeing any reason why they shouldn't paint pictures, or write tunes,

or books even, for the matter of that, especially if they could turn a

useful penny by it; not at all--kept them out of mischief. It was not as

if they were men!

'Little Francie,' as she was usually called with good-natured contempt,

was an important personage, if only as a standing illustration of the

attitude of Forsytes towards the Arts. She was not really 'little,' but

rather tall, with dark hair for a Forsyte, which, together with a grey

eye, gave her what was called 'a Celtic appearance.' She wrote songs

with titles like 'Breathing Sighs,' or 'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die,'

with a refrain like an anthem:

'Kiss me, Mother, ere I die;

Kiss me-kiss me, Mother, ah!

Kiss, ah! kiss me e-ere I--

Kiss me, Mother, ere I d-d-die!'

She wrote the words to them herself, and other poems. In lighter moments

she wrote waltzes, one of which, the 'Kensington Coil,' was almost

national to Kensington, having a sweet dip in it.

It was very original. Then there were her 'Songs for Little People,'

at once educational and witty, especially 'Gran'ma's Porgie,' and that

ditty, almost prophetically imbued with the coming Imperial spirit,

entitled 'Black Him In His Little Eye.'

Any publisher would take these, and reviews like 'High Living,' and

the 'Ladies' Genteel Guide' went into raptures over: 'Another of Miss

Francie Forsyte's spirited ditties, sparkling and pathetic. We ourselves

were moved to tears and laughter. Miss Forsyte should go far.'

With the true instinct of her breed, Francie had made a point of knowing

the right people--people who would write about her, and talk about her,

and people in Society, too--keeping a mental register of just where

to exert her fascinations, and an eye on that steady scale of rising

prices, which in her mind's eye represented the future. In this way she

caused herself to be universally respected.