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Updated: June 23, 2025
Those few Forsytes who had seen him reported a man of thick and robust appearance, not very tall, with a brown-red complexion, grey hair, and little of the refinement of feature with which most of the Forsytes had been endowed by 'Superior Dosset's' wife, a woman of some beauty and a gentle temperament.
Val, uttering a growly sound, followed her towards the house. When they re-entered the hall gallery the sight of two middle-aged Forsytes drinking tea together had its magical effect, and they became quite silent. It was, indeed, an impressive spectacle.
He took Gradman into his carriage on the way back to the Bayswater Road with a certain glow in his heart. He had a surprise in pickle for the old chap who had served the Forsytes four-and-fifty years-a treat that was entirely his doing. How well he remembered saying to Timothy the day after Aunt Hester's funeral: "Well; Uncle Timothy, there's Gradman. He's taken a lot of trouble for the family.
This brother had a high forehead, and the freshest colour of any of the Forsytes; his light grey eyes measured the street frontage of the houses by the way, and now and then he would level his, umbrella and take a 'lunar, as he expressed it, of the varying heights. "She'd no money," replied Nicholas.
You'll come to me as soon as you can, Jo," and with his head bowed he went away. It was young Jolyon's turn to take his stand beside the dead man, round whose fallen body he seemed to see all the Forsytes breathless, and prostrated. The stroke had fallen too swiftly.
Imogen was patting his shoulder, his uncle looking at him sidelong; only his mother sat unmoving, till, affected by her stillness, Val said: "It's all right, you know; we shall soon have them on the run. I only hope I shall come in for something." He felt elated, sorry, tremendously important all at once. This would show Uncle Soames, and all the Forsytes, how to be sportsmen.
Modern conversation seemed to Winifred so different from the days of her prime, when a drawl was all the vogue. Still it was "amusing," which, of course, was all that mattered. Even the Forsytes were talking with extreme rapidity Fleur and Christopher, and Imogen, and young Nicholas's youngest, Patrick.
A slight stoop closened and corrected the expansion given to his face by the heightening of his forehead in the recession of his grey hair. Little change had Time wrought in the "warmest" of the young Forsytes, as the last of the old Forsytes Timothy-now in his hundred and first year, would have phrased it.
The other day I was calculating the average age of the ten old Forsytes from my father's family Bible. I make it eighty-four already, and five still living. They ought to beat the record;" and looking whimsically at Soames, he added: "We aren't the men they were, you know." Soames smiled.
And he brooded, with fingers hooked into his blue silk braces. "There ought to be some way in law," he muttered, "to make him safe." "No," cried Winifred, "I won't be made a fool of again; I'd sooner put up with him." The two stared at each other. Their hearts were full of feeling, but they could give it no expression Forsytes that they were. "Where did you leave him?"
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