The Forsyte Saga - Volume 1

She had been on the worst sort of terms with Bosinney's father, who had

not infrequently made her the object of an unpardonable ridicule. She

alluded to him now that he was gone as her 'poor, dear, irreverend

brother.'

She greeted June with the careful effusion of which she was a mistress,

a little afraid of her as far as a woman of her eminence in the

commercial and Christian world could be afraid--for so slight a girl

June had a great dignity, the fearlessness of her eyes gave her that.

And Mrs. Baynes, too, shrewdly recognized that behind the uncompromising

frankness of June's manner there was much of the Forsyte. If the girl

had been merely frank and courageous, Mrs. Baynes would have thought

her 'cranky,' and despised her; if she had been merely a Forsyte, like

Francie--let us say--she would have patronized her from sheer weight of

metal; but June, small though she was--Mrs. Baynes habitually admired

quantity--gave her an uneasy feeling; and she placed her in a chair

opposite the light.

There was another reason for her respect which Mrs. Baynes, too good a

churchwoman to be worldly, would have been the last to admit--she often

heard her husband describe old Jolyon as extremely well off, and was

biassed towards his granddaughter for the soundest of all reasons.

To-day she felt the emotion with which we read a novel describing a hero

and an inheritance, nervously anxious lest, by some frightful lapse of

the novelist, the young man should be left without it at the end.

Her manner was warm; she had never seen so clearly before how

distinguished and desirable a girl this was. She asked after old

Jolyon's health. A wonderful man for his age; so upright, and young

looking, and how old was he? Eighty-one! She would never have thought

it! They were at the sea! Very nice for them; she supposed June heard

from Phil every day? Her light grey eyes became more prominent as she

asked this question; but the girl met the glance without flinching.

"No," she said, "he never writes!"

Mrs. Baynes's eyes dropped; they had no intention of doing so, but they

did. They recovered immediately.

"Of course not. That's Phil all over--he was always like that!"

"Was he?" said June.

The brevity of the answer caused Mrs. Baynes's bright smile a moment's

hesitation; she disguised it by a quick movement, and spreading her

skirts afresh, said: "Why, my dear--he's quite the most harum-scarum

person; one never pays the slightest attention to what he does!"

The conviction came suddenly to June that she was wasting her time; even

were she to put a question point-blank, she would never get anything out

of this woman.