man of property-第8章

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that　crash　was；　of　course；　impossible；　reason　and　trainingthat　combination　of　potent　factors　which　stood　for　his　principlestold　him　of　this　impossibility；　and　his　heart　cried　out。　　The　grim　remorselessness　of　that　business　had　no　pity　for　hearts。　　There　was　June；　the　atom　with　flaming　hair；　who　had　climbed　all　over　him；　twined　and　twisted　herself　about　himabout　his　heart　that　was　made　to　be　the　plaything　and　beloved　resort　of　tiny；　helpless　things。　　With　characteristic　insight　he　saw　he　must　part　with　one　or　with　the　other；　no　half…measures　could　serve　in　such　a　situation。　　In　that　lay　its　tragedy。　　And　the　tiny；　helpless　thing　prevailed。　　He　would　not　run　with　the　hare　and　hunt　with　the　hounds；　and　so　to　his　son　he　said　good…bye。

That　good…bye　had　lasted　until　now。

He　had　proposed　to　continue　a　reduced　allowance　to　young　Jolyon；　but　this　had　been　refused；　and　perhaps　that　refusal　had　hurt　him　more　than　anything；　for　with　it　had　gone　the　last　outlet　of　his　penned…in　affection；　and　there　had　come　such　tangible　and　solid　proof　of　rupture　as　only　a　transaction　in　property；　a　bestowal　or　refusal　of　such；　could　supply。

His　dinner　tasted　flat。　　His　pint　of　champagne　was　dry　and　bitter　stuff；　not　like　the　Veuve　Clicquots　of　old　days。

Over　his　cup　of　coffee；　he　bethought　him　that　he　would　go　to　the　opera。　　In　the　Times；　thereforehe　had　a　distrust　of　other　papershe　read　the　announcement　for　the　evening。　　It　was　'Fidelio。〃

Mercifully　not　one　of　those　new…fangled　German　pantomimes　by　that　fellow　Wagner。

Putting　on　his　ancient　opera　hat；　which；　with　its　brim　flattened　by　use；　and　huge　capacity；　looked　like　an　emblem　of　greater　days；　and；　pulling　out　an　old　pair　of　very　thin　lavender　kid　gloves　smelling　strongly　of　Russia　leather；　from　habitual　proximity　to　the　　cigar…case　in　the　pocket　of　his　overcoat；　he　stepped　into　a　hansom。

The　cab　rattled　gaily　along　the　streets；　and　old　Jolyon　was　struck　by　their　unwonted　animation。

'The　hotels　must　be　doing　a　tremendous　business；'　he　thought。　　A　few　years　ago　there　had　been　none　of　these　big　hotels。　　He　made　a　satisfactory　reflection　on　some　property　he　had　in　the　neighbourhood。　　It　must　be　going　up　in　value　by　leaps　and　bounds！　What　traffic！

But　from　that　he　began　indulging　in　one　of　those　strange　impersonal　speculations；　so　uncharacteristic　of　a　Forsyte；　wherein　lay；　in　part；　the　secret　of　his　supremacy　amongst　them。　What　atoms　men　were；　and　what　a　lot　of　them！　　And　what　would　become　of　them　all？

He　stumbled　as　he　got　out　of　the　cab；　gave　the　man　his　exact　fare；　walked　up　to　the　ticket　office　to　take　his　stall；　and　stood　there　with　his　purse　in　his　handhe　always　carried　his　money　in　a　purse；　never　having　approved　of　that　habit　of　carrying　it　loosely　in　the　pockets；　as　so　many　young　men　did　nowadays。　　The　official　leaned　out；　like　an　old　dog　from　a　kennel。

〃Why；〃　he　said　in　a　surprised　voice；　〃it's　Mr。　Jolyon　Forsyte！　So　it　is！　　Haven't　seen　you；　sir；　for　years。　　Dear　me！　　Times　aren't　what　they　were。　　Why！　you　and　your　brother；　and　that　auctioneerMr。　Traquair；　and　Mr。　Nicholas　Treffryyou　used　to　have　six　or　seven　stalls　here　regular　every　season。　　And　how　are　you；　sir？　　We　don't　get　younger！〃

The　colour　in　old　Jolyon's　eyes　deepened；　he　paid　his　guinea。　They　had　not　forgotten　him。　　He　marched　in；　to　the　sounds　of　the　overture；　like　an　old　war…horse　to　battle。

Folding　his　opera　hat；　he　sat　down；　drew　out　his　lavender　gloves　in　the　old　way；　and　took　up　his　glasses　for　a　long　look　round　the　house。　　Dropping　them　at　last　on　his　folded　hat；　he　fixed　his　eyes　on　the　curtain。　　More　poignantly　than　ever　he　felt　that　it　was　all　over　and　done　with　him。　　Where　were　all　the　women；　the　pretty　women；　the　house　used　to　be　so　full　of？　　Where　was　that　old　feeling　in　the　heart　as　he　waited　for　one　of　those　great　singers。？　　Where　that　sensation　of　the　intoxication　of　life　and　of　his　own　power　to　enjoy　it　all？

The　greatest　opera…goer　of　his　day！　　There　was　no　opera　now！　That　fellow　Wagner　had　ruined　everything；　no　melody　left；　nor　any　voices　to　sing　it。　　Ah！　the　wonderful　singers！　　Gone！　　He　sat　watching　the　old　scenes　acted；　a　numb　feeling　at　his　heart。

》From　the　curl　of　silver　over　his　ear　to　the　pose　of　his　foot　in　its　elastic…sided　patent　boot；　there　was　nothing　clumsy　or　weak　about　old　Jolyon。　　He　was　as　uprightvery　nearlyas　in　those　old　times　when　he　came　every　night；　his　sight　was　as　goodalmost　as　good。　　But　what　a　feeling　of　weariness　and　disillusion！

He　had　been　in　the　habit　all　his　life　of　enjoying　things；　even　imperfect　thingsand　there　had　been　many　imperfect　thingshe　had　enjoyed　them　all　with　moderation；　so　as　to　keep　himself　young。　　But　now　he　was　deserted　by　his　power　of　enjoyment；　by　his　philosophy）　and　left　with　this　dreadful　feeling　that　it　was　all　done　with。　　Not　even　the　Prisoners'　Chorus；　nor　Florian's　Song；　had　the　power　to　dispel　the　gloom　of　his　loneliness。

If　Jo；　were　only　with　him！　　The　boy　must　be　forty　by　now。　　He　had　wasted　fourteen　years　out　of　the　life　of　his　only　son。　　And　Jo　was　no　longer　a　social　pariah。　　He　was　married。　　Old　Jolyon　had　been　unable　to　refrain　from　marking　his　appreciation　of　the　action　by　enclosing　his　son　a　cheque　for　L500。　　The　cheque　had　been　returned　in　a　letter　from　the　'Hotch　Potch；'　couched　in　these　words。


'MY　DEAREST　FATHER；

'Your　generous　gift　was　welcome　as　a　sign　that　you　might　think　worse　of　me。　　I　return　it；　but　should　you　think　fit　to　invest　it　for　the　benefit　of　the　little　chap　（we　call　him　Jolly）；　who　bears　our　Christian　and；　by　courtesy；　our　surname；　I　shall　be　very　glad。

'I　hope　with　all　my　heart　that　your　health　is　as　good　as　ever。

'Your　loving　son；

　'Jo。'


The　letter　was　like　the　boy。　　He　had　always　been　an　amiable　chap。　Old　Jolyon　had　sent　this　reply：


'MY　DEAR　JO；

'The　sum　（L500）　stands　in　my　books　for　the　benefit　of　your　boy；　under　the　name　of　Jolyon　Forsyte；　and　will　be　duly…credited　with　interest　at　5　per　cent。　　I　hope　that　you　are　doing　well。　　My　health　remains　good　at　present。

'With　love；　I　am；　'Your　affectionate　Father；

'JOLYON　FORSYTE。'


And　every；　year　on　the　1st　of　January　he　had　added　a　hundred　and　the　interest。　　The　sum　was　mounting　upnext　New　Year's　Day　it　would　be　fifteen　hundred　and　odd　pounds！　　And　it　is　difficult　to　say　how　much　satisfaction　he　had　got　out　of　that　yearly　transaction。　　But　the　correspondence　had　ended。

In　spite　of　his　love　for　his　son；　in　spite　of　an　instinct；　partly　constitutional；　partly　the　result；　as　in　thousands　of　his　class；　of　the　continual　handling　and　watching　of　affairs；　prompting　him　to　judge　conduct　by　results　rather　than　by　principle；　there　was　at　the　bottom　of　his　heart　a　sort　of　uneasiness。　　His　son　ought；　under　the　circumstances；　to　have　gone　to　the　dogs；　that　law　was　laid　down　in　all　the　novels；　sermons；　and　plays　he　had　ever　read；　heard；　or　witnessed。

After　receiving　the　cheque　back　there　seemed　to　him　to　be　something　wrong　somewhere。　　Why　had　his　son；　not　gone　tothe　dogs？　　But；　then；　who　could　tell？

He　had　heard；。　　of　coursein　fact；　he　had　made　it　his　business　to　find　outthat　Jo　lived　in　St。　　John's　Wood；　that　he　had　a　little　house　in　Wistaria　Avenue　with　a　garden；　and　took　his　wife　about　with；　him　into　societya　queer　sort　of　society；　no　doubt　and　that　they　had　two　childrenthe　little　chap　they　called　Jolly　（considering　the　circumstances　the　name　struck　him　as　cynical；　and　old　Jolyon　both　feared　and　disliked　cynicism）；　and　a　girl　called　Holly；　born　since　the　marriage。　　Who　could　tell　what　his　son's　circumstances　really　were？　　He　had　capitalized　the　income　he　had　inherited　from　his　mother's　father　and　joined　Lloyd's　as　an　underwriter；　he　painted　pictures；　toowater…colours。　　Old　Jolyon　knew　this；　for　he　had　surreptitiously　bought　them　from　time　to　time；　after　chancing　to　see　his　son's　name　signed　at　the　bottom　of　a　representation　of　the　river　Thames　in　a　dealer's　window。　　He　thought　them　bad；　and　did　not　hang　them　because　of　the　signature；　he　kept　them　locked　up　in　a　drawer。

In　the　great　opera…house　a　terrible　yearning　came　on　him　to　see　his　son。　　He　remembered　the　days　when　he　had　been　wont　to　slide　him；　in　a　brown　holland　suit；　to　and　fro　under　the　arch　of　his　legs；　the　times　when　he　ran　beside　the　boy's