The third sensation came before anyone had time to speak:
"Mr. James Forsyte."
James came in using a stick slightly and wrapped in a fur coat which
gave him a fictitious bulk.
Everyone stood up. James was so old; and he had not been at Timothy's
for nearly two years.
"It's hot in here," he said.
Soames divested him of his coat, and as he did so could not help
admiring the glossy way his father was turned out. James sat down, all
knees, elbows, frock-coat, and long white whiskers.
"What's the meaning of that?" he said.
Though there was no apparent sense in his words, they all knew that he
was referring to June. His eyes searched his son's face.
"I thought I'd come and see for myself. What have they answered Kruger?"
Soames took out an evening paper, and read the headline.
"'Instant action by our Government--state of war existing!'"
"Ah!" said James, and sighed. "I was afraid they'd cut and run like old
Gladstone. We shall finish with them this time."
All stared at him. James! Always fussy, nervous, anxious! James with
his continual, 'I told you how it would be!' and his pessimism, and his
cautious investments. There was something uncanny about such resolution
in this the oldest living Forsyte.
"Where's Timothy?" said James. "He ought to pay attention to this."
Aunt Juley said she didn't know; Timothy had not said much at lunch
to-day. Aunt Hester rose and threaded her way out of the room, and
Francie said rather maliciously:
"The Boers are a hard nut to crack, Uncle James."
"H'm!" muttered James. "Where do you get your information? Nobody tells
me."
Young Nicholas remarked in his mild voice that Nick (his eldest) was now
going to drill regularly.
"Ah!" muttered James, and stared before him--his thoughts were on Val.
"He's got to look after his mother," he said, "he's got no time for
drilling and that, with that father of his." This cryptic saying
produced silence, until he spoke again.
"What did June want here?" And his eyes rested with suspicion on all of
them in turn. "Her father's a rich man now." The conversation turned
on Jolyon, and when he had been seen last. It was supposed that he
went abroad and saw all sorts of people now that his wife was dead; his
water-colours were on the line, and he was a successful man. Francie
went so far as to say:
"I should like to see him again; he was rather a dear."
Aunt Juley recalled how he had gone to sleep on the sofa one day, where
James was sitting. He had always been very amiable; what did Soames
think?