Jolyon, Swithin, Roger all gone, and he would be ninety in August! And
there was Soames married again to a French girl. The French were a queer
lot, but they made good mothers, he had heard. Things changed! They said
this German Emperor was here for the funeral, his telegram to old Kruger
had been in shocking taste. He should not be surprised if that chap made
trouble some day. Change! H'm! Well, they must look after themselves
when he was gone: he didn't know where he'd be! And now Emily had asked
Dartie to lunch, with Winifred and Imogen, to meet Soames' wife--she
was always doing something. And there was Irene living with that fellow
Jolyon, they said. He'd marry her now, he supposed.
'My brother Jolyon,' he thought, 'what would he have said to it all?'
And somehow the utter impossibility of knowing what his elder brother,
once so looked up to, would have said, so worried James that he got up
from his chair by the window, and began slowly, feebly to pace the room.
'She was a pretty thing, too,' he thought; 'I was fond of her. Perhaps
Soames didn't suit her--I don't know--I can't tell. We never had any
trouble with our wives.' Women had changed everything had changed! And
now the Queen was dead--well, there it was! A movement in the crowd
brought him to a standstill at the window, his nose touching the pane
and whitening from the chill of it. They had got her as far as Hyde Park
Corner--they were passing now! Why didn't Emily come up here where
she could see, instead of fussing about lunch. He missed her at that
moment--missed her! Through the bare branches of the plane-trees
he could just see the procession, could see the hats coming off the
people's heads--a lot of them would catch colds, he shouldn't wonder! A
voice behind him said:
"You've got a capital view here, James!"
"There you are!" muttered James; "why didn't you come before? You might
have missed it!"
And he was silent, staring with all his might.
"What's the noise?" he asked suddenly.
"There's no noise," returned Emily; "what are you thinking of?--they
wouldn't cheer."
"I can hear it."
"Nonsense, James!"
No sound came through those double panes; what James heard was the
groaning in his own heart at sight of his Age passing.
"Don't you ever tell me where I'm buried," he said suddenly. "I shan't
want to know." And he turned from the window. There she went, the old
Queen; she'd had a lot of anxiety--she'd be glad to be out of it, he
should think!