"Dear June is so original. Fancy, Soames, she thinks the Boers are not
to blame."
"They only want their independence," said June; "and why shouldn't they
have it?"
"Because," answered Soames, with his smile a little on one side, "they
happen to have agreed to our suzerainty."
"Suzerainty!" repeated June scornfully; "we shouldn't like anyone's
suzerainty over us."
"They got advantages in payment," replied Soames; "a contract is a
contract."
"Contracts are not always just," fumed out June, "and when they're not,
they ought to be broken. The Boers are much the weaker. We could afford
to be generous."
Soames sniffed. "That's mere sentiment," he said.
Aunt Hester, to whom nothing was more awful than any kind of
disagreement, here leaned forward and remarked decisively:
"What lovely weather it has been for the time of year?"
But June was not to be diverted.
"I don't know why sentiment should be sneered at. It's the best thing in
the world." She looked defiantly round, and Aunt Juley had to intervene
again:
"Have you bought any pictures lately, Soames?"
Her incomparable instinct for the wrong subject had not failed her.
Soames flushed. To disclose the name of his latest purchases would be
like walking into the jaws of disdain. For somehow they all knew of
June's predilection for 'genius' not yet on its legs, and her contempt
for 'success' unless she had had a finger in securing it.
"One or two," he muttered.
But June's face had changed; the Forsyte within her was seeing
its chance. Why should not Soames buy some of the pictures of Eric
Cobbley--her last lame duck? And she promptly opened her attack: Did
Soames know his work? It was so wonderful. He was the coming man.
Oh, yes, Soames knew his work. It was in his view 'splashy,' and would
never get hold of the public.
June blazed up.
"Of course it won't; that's the last thing one would wish for. I thought
you were a connoisseur, not a picture-dealer."
"Of course Soames is a connoisseur," Aunt Juley said hastily; "he
has wonderful taste--he can always tell beforehand what's going to be
successful."
"Oh!" gasped June, and sprang up from the bead-covered chair, "I hate
that standard of success. Why can't people buy things because they like
them?"
"You mean," said Francie, "because you like them."
And in the slight pause young Nicholas was heard saying gently that
Violet (his fourth) was taking lessons in pastel, he didn't know if they
were any use.
"Well, good-bye, Auntie," said June; "I must get on," and kissing her
aunts, she looked defiantly round the room, said "Good-bye" again, and
went. A breeze seemed to pass out with her, as if everyone had sighed.