To Let by John Galsworthy (bookstand for reading .TXT) 📕

Even Though He Might Be Willing To Give Up All Else For The     One Thing

He Couldn't Have, He Would Be A Fool To Think His Feelings Mattered

Much In So Vast A World, And To Behave Like A Cry-Baby Or A Cad. He

Pictured The     People Who Had Nothing--The Millions Who Had Given Up Life

In The     War, The     Millions Whom The     War Had Left With Life And Little

Else; The     Hungry Children He Had Read Of, The     Shattered Men; People In

Prison, Every Kind Of     Unfortunate. And--They Did Not Help Him Much. If

One Had To Miss A Meal, What Comfort In The     Knowledge That Many Others

Had To Miss It Too? There Was More Distraction In The     Thought Of

Getting Away Out Into This Vast World Of     Which He Knew Nothing Yet. He

Could Not Go On Staying Here, Walled In And Sheltered, With Everything

So Slick And Comfortable, And Nothing To Do But Brood And Think What

Might Have Been. He Could Not Go Back To Wansdon, And The     Memories Of

Fleur. If He Saw Her Again He Could Not Trust Himself; And If He Stayed

Here Or Went Back There, He Would Surely See Her. While They Were

Within Reach Of     Each Other That Must Happen. To Go Far Away And

Quickly, Was The     Only Thing To Do. But, However Much He Loved His

Mother, He Did Not Want To Go Away With Her. Then Feeling That Was

Brutal, He Made Up His Mind Desperately To Propose That They Should Go

To Italy. For Two Hours In That Melancholy Room He Tried To Master

Himself; Then Dressed Solemnly For Dinner.

His Mother Had Done The     Same. They Ate Little, At Some Length, And

Talked Of     His Father's Catalogue. The     Show Was Arranged For October,

And Beyond Clerical Detail There Was Nothing More To Do.

After Dinner She Put On A Cloak And They Went Out; Walked A Little,

Talked A Little, Till They Were Standing Silent At Last Beneath The

Oak-Tree. 

Ruled By The     Thought: 'If I Show Anything, I Show All,' Jon

Put His Arm Through Hers And Said Quite Casually:

"Mother, Let's Go To Italy."

Irene Pressed His Arm, And Said As Casually:

"It Would Be Very Nice; But I've Been Thinking You Ought To See And Do

More Than You Would If I Were With You."

"But Then You'd Be Alone."

"I Was Once Alone For More Than Twelve Years. Besides, I Should Like To

Be Here For The     Opening Of     Father's Show."

 Jon's Grip Tightened Round Her Arm; He Was Not Deceived.

"You Couldn't Stay Here All By Yourself; It's Too Big."

"Not Here, Perhaps. In London, And I Might Go To Paris, After The     Show

Opens. You Ought To Have A Year At Least, Jon, And See The     World."

"Yes, I'd Like To See The     World And Rough It. But I Don't Want To Leave

You All Alone."

"My Dear, I Owe You That At Least. If It's For Your Good, It'll Be For

Mine. Why Not Start To-Morrow? You've Got Your Passport."

 "Yes; If I'm Going It Had Better Be At Once.

Only--Mother--If--If I

Wanted To Stay Out Somewhere--America Or Anywhere, Would You Mind

Coming Presently?"

"Wherever And Whenever You Send For Me. But Don't Send Until You Really

Want Me."

Jon Drew A Deep Breath.

"I Feel England's Choky."

They Stood A Few Minutes Longer Under The     Oak-Tree--Looking Out To

Where The     Grand Stand At Epsom Was Veiled In Evening. The     Branches Kept

The Moonlight From Them, So That It Only Fell Everywhere Else--Over The

Fields And Far Away, And On The     Windows Of     The     Creepered House Behind,

Which Soon Would Be To Let.

The October Paragraphs Describing The     Wedding Of     Fleur Forsyte To

Michael Mont Hardly Conveyed The     Symbolic Significance Of     This Event.

In The     Union Of     The     Great-Granddaughter Of     "Superior Dosset" With The

Heir Of     A Ninth Baronet Was The     Outward And Visible Sign Of     That Merger

Of Class In Class Which Buttresses The     Political Stability Of     A Realm.

The Time Had Come When The     Forsytes Might Resign Their Natural

Resentment Against A "Flummery" Not Theirs By Birth, And Accept It As

The Still More Natural Due Of     Their Possessive Instincts. Besides, They

Really Had To Mount To Make Room For All Those So Much More Newly Rich.

In That Quiet But Tasteful Ceremony In Hanover Square, And Afterwards

Among The     Furniture In Green Street, It Had Been Impossible For Those

Not In The     Know To Distinguish The     Forsyte Troop From The     Mont

Contingent--So Far Away Was "Superior Dosset" Now. Was There, In The

Crease Of     His Trousers, The     Expression Of     His Moustache, His Accent, Or

The Shine On His Top Hat, A Pin To Choose Between Soames And The     Ninth

Baronet Himself? Was Not Fleur As Self-Possessed, Quick, Glancing,

Pretty, And Hard As The     Likeliest Muskham, Mont, Or Charwell Filly

Present? If Anything, The     Forsytes Had It In Dress And Looks And

Manners. They Had Become "Upper Class" And Now Their Name Would Be

Formally Recorded In The     Stud Book, Their Money Joined To Land. Whether

This Was A Little Late In The     Day, And Those Rewards Of     The     Possessive

Instinct, Lands And Money Destined For The     Melting-Pot--Was Still A

Question So Moot That It Was Not Mooted. After All, Timothy Had Said

Consols Were Goin' Up. Timothy, The     Last, The     Missing Link; Timothy In

Extremis On The     Bayswater Road--So Francie Had Reported. It Was

Whispered, Too, That This Young Mont Was A Sort Of     Socialist--Strangely

Wise Of     Him, And In The     Nature Of     Insurance, Considering The     Days They

Lived In. There Was No Uneasiness On That Score. The     Landed Classes

Produced That Sort Of     Amiable Foolishness At Times, Turned To Safe Uses

And Confined To Theory. As George Remarked To His Sister Francie:

"They'll Soon Be Having Puppies--That'll Give Him Pause."

The Church With White Flowers And Something Blue In The     Middle Of     The

East Window, Looked Extremely Chaste, As Though Endeavouring To

Counteract The     Somewhat Lurid Phraseology Of     A Service Calculated To

Keep The     Thoughts Of     All On Puppies. Forsytes, Haymans, Tweetymans, Sat

In The     Left Aisle; Monts, Charwells, Muskhams In The     Right; While A

Sprinkling Of     Fleur's Fellow-Sufferers At School, And Of     Mont's

Fellow-Sufferers In The     War, Gaped Indiscriminately From Either Side,

And Three Maiden Ladies, Who Had Dropped In On Their Way From

Skyward's, Brought Up The     Rear, Together With Two Mont Retainers And

Fleur's Old Nurse. In The     Unsettled State Of     The     Country As Full A

House As Could Be Expected.

Mrs. Val Dartie, Who Sat With Her Husband In The     Third Row, Squeezed

His Hand More Than Once During The     Performance.

To Her, Who Knew The

Plot Of     This Tragi-Comedy, Its Most Dramatic Moment Was Well-Nigh

Painful. 'I Wonder If Jon Knows By Instinct,' She Thought--Jon, Out In

British Columbia. She Had Received A Letter From Him Only That Morning

Which Had Made Her Smile And Say:

"Jon's In British Columbia, Val, Because He Wants To Be In California.

He Thinks It's Too Nice There."

"Oh!" Said Val, "So He's Beginning To See A Joke Again."

"He's Bought Some Land And Sent For His Mother."

"What On Earth Will She Do Out There?"

"All She Cares About Is Jon. Do You Still Think It A Happy Release?"

Val's Shrewd Eyes Narrowed To Grey Pin-Points Between Their Dark Lashes.

"Fleur Wouldn't Have Suited Him A Bit. She's Not Bred Right."

"Poor Little Fleur!" Sighed Holly. Ah! It Was Strange--This Marriage!

The Young Man, Mont, Had Caught Her On The     Rebound, Of     Course, In The

Reckless Mood Of     One Whose Ship Has Just Gone Down. Such A Plunge Could

Not But Be--As Val Put It--An Outside Chance. There Was Little To Be

Told From The     Back View Of     Her Young Cousin's Veil, And Holly's Eyes

Reviewed The     General Aspect Of     This Christian Wedding. She Who Had Made

A Love-Match Which Had Been Successful, Had A Horror Of     Unhappy

Marriages. This Might Not Be One In The     End--But It Was Clearly A

Toss-Up; And To Consecrate A Toss-Up In This Fashion With Manufactured

Unction Before A Crowd Of     Fashionable Free-Thinkers--For Who Thought

Otherwise Than Freely, Or Not At All, When They Were 'Dolled'

Up--Seemed To Her As Near A Sin As One Could Find In An Age Which Had

Abolished Them.