"Well, that makes me a bit un'appy."
"I should have thought nothing could ever make you happy or unhappy."
"I don't like to annoy other people. I'm goin' on my yacht."
Fleur looked at him, startled.
"Where?"
"Small voyage to the South Seas or somewhere," said Monsieur Profond.
Fleur suffered relief and a sense of insult. Clearly he meant to convey
that he was breaking with her mother. How dared he have anything to
break, and yet how dared he break it?
"Good-night, Miss Forsyde! Remember me to Mrs. Dartie. I'm not so bad
really. Good-night!" Fleur left him standing there with his hat raised.
Stealing a look round, she saw him stroll--immaculate and heavy--back
toward his Club.
'He can't even love with conviction,' she thought. 'What will Mother
do?'
Her dreams that night were endless and uneasy; she rose heavy and
unrested, and went at once to the study of Whitaker's Almanac. A Forsyte
is instinctively aware that facts are the real crux of any situation.
She might conquer Jon's prejudice, but without exact machinery to
complete their desperate resolve, nothing would happen. From the
invaluable tome she learned that they must each be twenty-one; or some
one's consent would be necessary, which of course was unobtainable;
then she became lost in directions concerning licenses, certificates,
notices, districts, coming finally to the word "perjury." But that was
nonsense! Who would really mind their giving wrong ages in order to
be married for love! She ate hardly any breakfast, and went back to
Whitaker. The more she studied the less sure she became; till, idly
turning the pages, she came to Scotland. People could be married
there without any of this nonsense. She had only to go and stay there
twenty-one days, then Jon could come, and in front of two people they
could declare themselves married. And what was more--they would be! It
was far the best way; and at once she ran over her schoolfellows. There
was Mary Lambe who lived in Edinburgh and was "quite a sport!"
She had a brother too. She could stay with Mary Lambe, who with her
brother would serve for witnesses. She well knew that some girls would
think all this unnecessary, and that all she and Jon need do was to
go away together for a weekend and then say to their people: "We are
married by Nature, we must now be married by Law." But Fleur was Forsyte
enough to feel such a proceeding dubious, and to dread her father's face
when he heard of it. Besides, she did not believe that Jon would do it;
he had an opinion of her such as she could not bear to diminish. No!
Mary Lambe was preferable, and it was just the time of year to go to
Scotland. More at ease now she packed, avoided her aunt, and took a bus
to Chiswick. She was too early, and went on to Kew Gardens. She found no
peace among its flower-beds, labelled trees, and broad green spaces,
and having lunched off anchovy-paste sandwiches and coffee, returned to
Chiswick and rang June's bell. The Austrian admitted her to the "little
meal-room." Now that she knew what she and Jon were up against, her
longing for him had increased tenfold, as if he were a toy with sharp
edges or dangerous paint such as they had tried to take from her as a
child. If she could not have her way, and get Jon for good and all, she
felt like dying of privation. By hook or crook she must and would get
him! A round dim mirror of very old glass hung over the pink brick
hearth. She stood looking at herself reflected in it, pale, and rather
dark under the eyes; little shudders kept passing through her nerves.
Then she heard the bell ring, and, stealing to the window, saw him
standing on the doorstep smoothing his hair and lips, as if he too were
trying to subdue the fluttering of his nerves.