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Updated: September 12, 2025
Though he had not met her since the day of the 'At Home' in his old house at Stanhope Gate, which celebrated his granddaughter June's ill-starred engagement to young Bosinney, he had remembered her at once, for he had always admired her a very pretty creature. After the death of young Bosinney, whose mistress she had so reprehensibly become, he had heard that she had left Soames at once.
Soames' eyes that worried Euphemia. She never once looked at Mr. Bosinney until he moved on, and then she looked after him. And, oh, that look! On that look Euphemia had spent much anxious thought. It is not too much to say that it had hurt her with its dark, lingering softness, for all the world as though the woman wanted to drag him back, and unsay something she had been saying.
He looked intently at their faces, with his pale, immovable stare. That young man looked very queer! "You'll never make anything of this!" he said tartly, pointing at the mansion; "too newfangled!" Bosinney gazed at him as though he had not heard; and Swithin afterwards described him to Aunt Hester as "an extravagant sort of fellow very odd way of looking at you a bumpy beggar!"
Dartie said: "It'll put Master Soames's nose out of joint to hear his wife's been drivin' in a hansom with Master Bosinney!" Winifred replied: "Don't talk such nonsense, Monty!" "Nonsense!" repeated Dartie. "You don't know women, my fine lady!" On the other occasion he merely asked: "How am I looking? A bit puffy about the gills? That fizz old George is so fond of is a windy wine!"
George, on hearing the story, grinned. The hat had obviously been worn as a practical joke! He himself was a connoisseur of such. "Very haughty!" he said, "the wild Buccaneer." And this mot, the 'Buccaneer, was bandied from mouth to mouth, till it became the favourite mode of alluding to Bosinney. Her aunts reproached June afterwards about the hat.
At tea-time he came down to the drawing-room, and found them talking, as he expressed it, nineteen to the dozen. Unobserved in the doorway, he congratulated himself that things were taking the right turn. It was lucky she and Bosinney got on; she seemed to be falling into line with the idea of the new house.
Without a habitat a Forsyte is inconceivable he would be like a novel without a plot, which is well-known to be an anomaly. To Forsyte eyes Bosinney appeared to have no habitat, he seemed one of those rare and unfortunate men who go through life surrounded by circumstance, property, acquaintances, and wives that do not belong to them.
It was lucky, after all, that June had broken the ice for him. She must have wormed it out of Bosinney; he might have known she would. He lighted his cigarette. After all, Irene had not made a scene! She would come round that was the best of her; she was cold, but not sulky. And, puffing the cigarette smoke at a lady-bird on the shining table, he plunged into a reverie about the house.
There was anxiety, too, as to what old Jolyon could have heard and how he had heard it; and a sort of hopefulness arising from the thought that if June's connection with Bosinney were completely at an end, her grandfather would hardly seem anxious to help the young fellow.
And the more he brooded, the more certain he became that she had a lover her words, 'I would sooner die! were ridiculous if she had not. Even if she had never loved him, she had made no fuss until Bosinney came on the scene. No; she was in love again, or she would not have made that melodramatic answer to his proposal, which in all the circumstances was reasonable! Very well!
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