"What do you think, old man?" he said.

Jolly frowned. "Of course, my first year we talked a good bit about

that sort of thing. But in the second year one gives it up; I don't know

why--it's awfully interesting."

Jolyon remembered that he also had talked a good deal about it his first

year at Cambridge, and given it up in his second.

"I suppose," said Jolly, "it's the second God, you mean, that old

Balthasar had a sense of."

"Yes, or he would never have burst his poor old heart because of

something outside himself."

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"But wasn't that just selfish emotion, really?"

Jolyon shook his head. "No, dogs are not pure Forsytes, they love

something outside themselves."

Jolly smiled.

"Well, I think I'm one," he said. "You know, I only enlisted because I

dared Val Dartie to."

"But why?"

"We bar each other," said Jolly shortly.

"Ah!" muttered Jolyon. So the feud went on, unto the third

generation--this modern feud which had no overt expression?

'Shall I tell the boy about it?' he thought. But to what end--if he had

to stop short of his own part?

And Jolly thought: 'It's for Holly to let him know about that chap.

If she doesn't, it means she doesn't want him told, and I should be

sneaking. Anyway, I've stopped it. I'd better leave well alone!'

So they dug on in silence, till Jolyon said:

"Now, old man, I think it's big enough." And, resting on their spades,

they gazed down into the hole where a few leaves had drifted already on

a sunset wind.

"I can't bear this part of it," said Jolyon suddenly.

"Let me do it, Dad. He never cared much for me."

Jolyon shook his head.

"We'll lift him very gently, leaves and all. I'd rather not see him

again. I'll take his head. Now!"

With extreme care they raised the old dog's body, whose faded tan and

white showed here and there under the leaves stirred by the wind. They

laid it, heavy, cold, and unresponsive, in the grave, and Jolly spread

more leaves over it, while Jolyon, deeply afraid to show emotion before

his son, began quickly shovelling the earth on to that still shape.

There went the past! If only there were a joyful future to look forward

to! It was like stamping down earth on one's own life. They replaced the

turf carefully on the smooth little mound, and, grateful that they had

spared each other's feelings, returned to the house arm-in-arm.




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