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As it was, she would miss him. Still there was Jon, more important in her life than himself; Jon, who adored his mother. Under that tree, where old Jolyon waiting for Irene to come to him across the lawn had breathed his last, Jolyon wondered, whimsically, whether, having put everything in such perfect order, he had not better close his own eyes and drift away.
There was a drowsy hum of very distant traffic; the creepered trellis round the garden shut out everything but sky, and house, and pear-tree, with its top branches still gilded by the sun. For some time they sat there, talking but little. Then old Jolyon rose to go, and not a word was said about his coming again. He walked away very sadly.
This photograph a witness to the eternal irony underlying commercial enterprise still retained its position on the wall, an effigy of the directors' pet, but dead, lamb. And now old Jolyon rose, to present the report and accounts. Veiling under a Jove-like serenity that perpetual antagonism deep-seated in the bosom of a director towards his shareholders, he faced them calmly.
Watching her lips that wore a little drawn smile, Jolyon said quietly: "You had better let me tell him, and have done with it. After all, Jon has the instincts of a gentleman. He has only to understand " "Only! He can't understand; that's impossible." "I believe I could have at his age." Irene caught his hand. "You were always more of a realist than Jon; and never so innocent."
"We may suppose him thick and sturdy, standing for England as it was before the Industrial Era began. The second Jolyon Forsyte your great-grandfather, Jolly; better known as Superior Dosset Forsyte built houses, so the chronicle runs, begat ten children, and migrated to London town. It is known that he drank sherry.
Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the table to eat his dinner.
He took one of Jolly's hands in his own; the boy climbed on to his knee; and little Holly, mesmerized by this sight, crept up to them; the sound of the dog Balthasar's scratching arose rhythmically. Suddenly young Mrs. Jolyon got up and hurried indoors. A minute later her husband muttered an excuse, and followed. Old Jolyon was left alone with his grandchildren.
He cut the envelope with the butter knife, and read: "DEAREST UNCLE JOLYON, I can't bear to write anything that may disappoint you, but I was too cowardly to tell you last night. I feel I can't come down and give Holly any more lessons, now that June is coming back. Some things go too deep to be forgotten. It has been such a joy to see you and Holly.
"Was he?" said old Jolyon, looking hard at James. "It wouldn't be half so busy if everybody minded their own business." James, brooding in a small chair from which his knees ran uphill, shifted his feet uneasily, and put one of them down on the cat, which had unwisely taken refuge from old Jolyon beside him.
In short, the situation is promising, but requires patience." And, looking up suddenly, he added: "One rather curious point 47 has the same name as er 31!" 'The fellow knows I'm her husband, thought Soames. "Christian name an odd one Jolyon," continued Mr. Polteed. "We know his address in Paris and his residence here. We don't wish, of course, to be running a wrong hare."
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