It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house.
Theres a lot of room cut to waste, pursued Soames.
Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the expression on his face.
He said at last in a puzzled voice:
Its an odd sort of house!
A rectangular house of two stories was designed in a quadrangle round a covered-in court. This court, encircled by a gallery on the upper floor, was roofed with a glass roof, supported by eight columns running up from the ground.
It was indeed, to Forsyte eyes, an odd house.
Theres a lot of room cut to waste, pursued Soames.
Bosinney began to walk about, and Soames did not like the expression on his face.
The principle of this house, said the architect, was that you should have room to breathe like a gentleman!
Soames extended his finger and thumb, as if measuring the extent of the distinction he should acquire; and replied:
Oh! yes; I see.
The peculiar look came into Bosinneys face which marked all his enthusiasms.
Ive tried to plan you a house here with some self-respect of its own. If you dont like it, youd better say so. Its certainly the last thing to be considered who wants self-respect in a house, when you can squeeze in an extra lavatory? He put his finger suddenly down on the left division of the centre oblong: You can swing a cat[21] here. This is for your pictures, divided from this court by curtains; draw them back and youll have a space of fifty-one by twenty-three six. This double-faced stove in the centre, here, looks one way towards the court, one way towards the picture room; this end wall is all window; Youve a southeast light from that, a north light from the court. The rest of your pictures you can hang round the gallery upstairs, or in the other rooms. In architecture, he went on and though looking at Soames he did not seem to see him, which gave Soames an unpleasant feeling as in life, youll get no self-respect without regularity. Fellows tell you thats old fashioned. It appears to be peculiar any way; it never occurs to us to embody the main principle of life in our buildings; we load our houses with decoration, gimcracks, corners, anything to distract the eye. On the contrary the eye should rest; get your effects with a few strong lines. The whole thing is regularity, theres no self-respect without it.
Soames, the unconscious ironist, fixed his gaze on Bosinneys tie, which was far from being in the perpendicular; he was unshaven too, and his dress not remarkable for order. Architecture appeared to have exhausted his regularity.
Wont it look like a barrack? he inquired.
He did not at once receive a reply.
I can see what it is, said Bosinney, you want one of Littlemasters houses one of the pretty and commodious sort, where the servants will live in garrets, and the front door be sunk so that you may come up again. By all means try Littlemaster, youll find him a capital fellow, Ive known him all my life!
Soames was alarmed. He had really been struck by the plans, and the concealment of his satisfaction had been merely instinctive. It was difficult for him to pay a compliment. He despised people who were lavish with their praises.
He found himself now in the embarrassing position of one who must pay a compliment or run the risk of losing a good thing. Bosinney was just the fellow who might tear up the plans and refuse to act for him; a kind of grown-up child!
This grown-up childishness, to which he felt so superior, exercised a peculiar and almost mesmeric effect on Soames, for he had never felt anything like it in himself.
Well, he stammered at last, its its, certainly original.
He had such a private distrust and even dislike of the word original that he felt he had not really given himself away by this remark.
Bosinney seemed pleased. It was the sort of thing that would please a fellow like that! And his success encouraged Soames.
Its a big place, he said.
Space, air, light, he heard Bosinney murmur, you cant live like a gentleman in one of Littlemasters he builds for manufacturers.
Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed with manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general principles revived. What the deuce was the good of talking about regularity and self-respect? It looked to him as if the house would be cold.
Irene cant stand the cold! he said.
Ah! said Bosinney sarcastically. Your wife? She doesnt like the cold? Ill see to that; she shant be cold. Look here! he pointed, to four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the court. Ive given you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you can get them with very good designs.
Soames looked suspiciously at these marks.
Its all very well, all this, he said, but whats it going to cost?
The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket:
The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as I thought you wouldnt stand that, Ive compromised for a facing. It ought to have a copper roof, but Ive made it green slate. As it is, including metal work, itll cost you eight thousand five hundred.
Eight thousand five hundred? said Soames. Why, I gave you an outside limit of eight!
Cant be done for a penny less, replied Bosinney coolly.
You must take it or leave it!
It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have been made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to throw the whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew it there was completeness about it, and dignity; the servants apartments were excellent too. He would gain credit by living in a house like that with such individual features, yet perfectly well-arranged.
He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his bedroom to shave and dress.
The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames watching him out of the corner of his eye.
The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow so he thought when he was properly got up.
Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in.
She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June.
No, no, said Soames, weve still got business to talk over!
At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to eat. He was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, and left him to spend the afternoon with Irene, while he stole off to his pictures, after his Sunday habit. 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.
Quiet meditation among his pictures had decided him to spring the five hundred if necessary; but he hoped that the afternoon might have softened Bosinneys estimates. It was so purely a matter which Bosinney could remedy if he liked; there must be a dozen ways in which he could cheapen the production of a house without spoiling the effect.
He awaited, therefore, his opportunity till Irene was handing the architect his first cup of tea. A chink of sunshine through the lace of the blinds warmed her cheek, shone in the gold of her hair, and in her soft eyes. Possibly the same gleam deepened Bosinneys colour, gave the rather startled look to his face.
Soames hated sunshine, and he at once got up, to draw the blind. Then he took his own cup of tea from his wife, and said, more coldly than he had intended:
Cant you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? There must be a lot of little things you could alter.
Cant you see your way to do it for eight thousand after all? There must be a lot of little things you could alter.
Bosinney drank off his tea at a gulp, put down his cup, and answered:
Not one!
Soames saw that his suggestion had touched some unintelligible point of personal vanity.
Well, he agreed, with sulky resignation; you must have it your own way, I suppose.
A few minutes later Bosinney rose to go, and Soames rose too, to see him off the premises. The architect seemed in absurdly high spirits. After watching him walk away at a swinging pace, Soames returned moodily to the drawing-room, where Irene was putting away the music, and, moved by an uncontrollable spasm of curiosity, he asked:
Well, what do you think of The Buccaneer?
He looked at the carpet while waiting for her answer, and he had to wait some time.
I dont know, she said at last.
Do you think hes good-looking?
Irene smiled. And it seemed to Soames that she was mocking him.
Yes, she answered; very.
Chapter IX
Death of Aunt Ann
There came a morning at the end of September when Aunt Ann was unable to take from Smithers hands the insignia of personal dignity. After one look at the old face, the doctor, hurriedly sent for, announced that Miss Forsyte had passed away in her sleep.
Aunts Juley and Hester were overwhelmed by the shock. They had never imagined such an ending. Indeed, it is doubtful whether they had ever realized that an ending was bound to come. Secretly they felt it unreasonable of Ann to have left them like this without a word, without even a struggle. It was unlike her.
Perhaps what really affected them so profoundly was the thought that a Forsyte should have let go her grasp on life. If one, then why not all!
It was a full hour before they could make up their minds to tell Timothy. If only it could be kept from him! If only it could be broken to him by degrees!
And long they stood outside his door whispering together. And when it was over they whispered together again.
He would feel it more, they were afraid, as time went on. Still, he had taken it better than could have been expected. He would keep his bed, of course!
They separated, crying quietly.
Aunt Juley stayed in her room, prostrated by the blow. Her face, discoloured by tears, was divided into compartments by the little ridges of pouting flesh which had swollen with emotion. It was impossible to conceive of life without Ann, who had lived with her for seventy-three years, broken only by the short interregnum of her married life, which seemed now so unreal. At fixed intervals she went to her drawer, and took from beneath the lavender bags a fresh pocket-handkerchief. Her warm heart could not bear the thought that Ann was lying there so cold.