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Updated: May 9, 2025
'In my Father's house are many mansions' was one of Aunt Juley's favourite sayings it always comforted her, with its suggestion of house property, which had made the fortune of dear Roger.
"I wonder," she murmured, "what dear Soames will think? He has so wanted to have a son himself. A little bird has always told me that." "Well," said Winifred, "he's going to bar accidents." Gladness trickled out of Aunt Juley's eyes. "How delightful!" she said. "When?" "November." Such a lucky month! But she did wish it could be sooner. It was a long time for James to wait, at his age! To wait!
He supposed her "as clever as they make 'em," but no more, not realizing that she was penetrating to the depths of his soul, and approving of what she found there. And if insight were sufficient, if the inner life were the whole of life, their happiness has been assured. They walked ahead briskly. The parade and the road after it were well lighted, but it was darker in Aunt Juley's garden.
As they were seated at Aunt Juley's breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie's marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy.
The seven women whom he had addressed broke into a subdued murmur, out of which emerged Francie's, "Really, the Forsytes!" and Aunt Juley's: "He must have his feet in mustard and hot water to-night, Hester; will you tell Jane? The blood has gone to his head again, I'm afraid...."
'In my Father's house are many mansions' was one of Aunt Juley's favourite sayings it always comforted her, with its suggestion of house property, which had made the fortune of dear Roger.
Do let us camp out, just one night, and Tom shall feed us on eggs and milk. Why not? It's a moon." Margaret hesitated. "I feel Charles wouldn't like it," she said at last. "Even our furniture annoyed him, and I was going to clear it out when Aunt Juley's illness prevented me. I sympathize with Charles. He feels it's his mother's house. He loves it in rather an untaking way.
He was strongly against employing the local man whom he had previously recommended, and advised her to store in London after all. But before this could be done an unexpected trouble fell upon her. It was not unexpected entirely. Aunt Juley's health had been bad all the winter. She had had a long series of colds and coughs, and had been too busy to get rid of them.
The words struck familiarly on Aunt Juley's ears. Ah! yes; that funny drawing of George's, which had not been shown them! But what did Imogen mean? That her uncle always wanted more than he could have? It was not at all nice to think like that. Imogen's voice rose clear and clipped: "Imagine! Annette's only two years older than me; it must be awful for her, married to Uncle Soames."
She must be assured that it is not a criminal offence to love at first sight. A telegram to this effect would be cold and cryptic, a personal visit seemed each moment more impossible. Now the doctor arrived, and said that Tibby was quite bad. Might it really be best to accept Aunt Juley's kind offer, and to send her down to Howards End with a note? Certainly Margaret was impulsive.
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