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Updated: May 7, 2025
She even kept Jon's letters covered with pink silk, on her heart, than which in days when corsets were so low, sentiment so despised, and chests so out of fashion, there could, perhaps, have been no greater proof of the fixity of her idea. After hearing of his father's death, she had written to Jon, and received his answer three days later on her return from a river picnic.
How he came to let her know why Irene had taken Jon to Spain puzzled Jolyon, for he had little confidence in her discretion. After she had brooded on the news, it brought a rather sharp discussion, during which he perceived to the full the fundamental opposition between her active temperament and his wife's passivity.
'It's Jon, with her, he thought; 'all Jon! I'm dying out of her it's natural! And, careful not to be seen, he stole back. Next day, after a bad night, he sat down to his task. He wrote with difficulty and many erasures. "You are old enough to understand how very difficult it is for elders to give themselves away to their young.
In her startled, frowning face he saw the instant struggle to apprehend what this would mean. "Poor Jon! Why didn't you tell me, Father?" "I never know!" said Soames slowly; "you don't confide in me." "I would, if you'd help me, dear." "Perhaps I shall." Fleur clasped her hands. "Oh! darling when one wants a thing fearfully, one doesn't think of other people. Don't be angry with me."
He could not take his eyes off the dark past master what he said was so deliberate and discouraging such heavy, queer, smiled-out words. Jon was thinking of butterflies, when he heard him say: "I want to see Mr. Soames Forsyde take an interest in 'orses." "Old Soames! He's too dry a file!" With all his might Jon tried not to grow red, while the dark past master went on.
Little Jon reflected; Venus was in his book about the Greeks and Trojans. Then Anna was her Christian and Dyomene her surname? But it appeared, on inquiry, that it was one word, which meant rising from the foam. "Did she rise from the foam in Glensofantrim?" "Yes; every day." "What is she like, Daddy?" "Like Mum." "Oh!
"Exactly what I thought when I saw you. I knew at once I should never love anybody else." Fleur laughed. "We're absurdly young. And love's young dream is out of date, Jon. Besides, it's awfully wasteful. Think of all the fun you might have. You haven't begun, even; it's a shame, really. And there's me. I wonder!" Confusion came on Jon's spirit.
Little Jon got up, jumped one of them, and walked round the clump of iris plants which filled the pool of grey-white marble in the centre. The flowers were pretty, but only smelled a very little. He stood in the open doorway and looked out. Suppose! suppose they didn't come!
It was a nail. He opened. Oh! What a lovely thing came in! "I wanted to show you my fancy dress," it said, and struck an attitude at the foot of his bed. Jon drew a long breath and leaned against the door. The apparition wore white muslin on its head, a fichu round its bare neck over a wine-coloured dress, fulled out below its slender waist.
Jon Hatlen has made a lampoon about me, and all the boys sing it, and I no longer dare go to the dances. Both the old people know about it, and I have to listen to many harsh words. Now I am sitting alone writing, and you must not show my letter. You have learned much and are able to advise me, but you are now far away.
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