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It was extravagant, but not the reason for his distaste. Why the deuce couldn't his nephew have stayed out in South Africa? His own divorce had been bad enough, without his nephew's marriage to the daughter of the co-respondent; a half-sister too of June, and of that boy whom Fleur had just been looking at from under the pump-handle.
She dressed him up like a doll, engaged all kinds of teachers for him, and put him in charge of a tutor, a Frenchman, who had been an abbe, a pupil of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a certain M. Courtin de Vaucelles, a subtle and wily intriguer the very, as she expressed it, fine fleur of emigration and finished at almost seventy years old by marrying this "fine fleur," and making over all her property to him.
Monsieur Profond, smiling with his eyes, said: "That's a nice small dress!" Her mother, very handsome in black, sat looking at her, and said nothing. It remained for her father to apply the test of common sense. "What did you put on that thing for? You're not going to dance." Fleur spun round, and the bells pealed. "Caprice!" Soames stared at her, and, turning away, gave his arm to Winifred.
She saw that he knew she was putting him off, and added: "Have you heard anything of Fleur?" "Yes." His face told her, then, more than the most elaborate explanations. So he had not forgotten! She said very quietly: "Fleur is awfully attractive, Jon, but you know Val and I don't really like her very much." "Why?" "We think she's got rather a 'having' nature."
Small wings, a stream bubbling, the rambler roses! God how empty all of it without her! In the Bible it was written: Thou shalt leave father and mother and cleave to Fleur! Let him have pluck, and go and tell them! They couldn't stop him marrying her they wouldn't want to stop him when they knew how he felt. Yes! He would go! Bold and open Fleur was wrong!
You might not care to speak plainly, of course, but you can easily make them perceive the situation, without offending them, or saying anything which an old servant might not say, in a case like this." "But, madam," said La Fleur, "what's to hinder their stopping here? There's no spot on earth that could suit them better, to my way of thinking."
"This is Fleur Forsyte, Jolyon; Jon brought her down to see the house. Let's have tea at once she has to catch a train. Jon, tell them, dear, and telephone to the Dragon for a car." To leave her alone with them was strange, and yet, as no doubt his mother had foreseen, the least of evils at the moment; so he ran up into the house.
People who have a La Fleur must expect to see their friends at their table much oftener than if they had a Biddy in the kitchen. That is one of the penalties of good fortune. I have my cap in my bag, and as soon as I have cooled a little I will take off my bonnet and shawl. This afternoon I am going to see the Bannisters, and after that I intend to call on Mrs. Drane and her daughter.
Soames was startled, but she had underrated his caution and tenacity. "If you know," he said coldly, "why do you plague me?" Fleur saw that she had overreached herself. "I don't want to plague you, darling. As you say, why want to know more? Why want to know anything of that 'small' mystery Je m'en fiche, as Profond says?" "That chap!" said Soames profoundly.
The breeze died away; midges began to bite. She got up, plucked a piece of honeysuckle, and went in. It was hot that night. Both she and her mother had put on thin, pale low frocks. The dinner flowers were pale. Fleur was struck with the pale look of everything; her father's face, her mother's shoulders; the pale panelled walls, the pale grey velvety carpet, the lamp-shade, even the soup was pale.
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