hat he decided on the blind. That could not be
inappropriate, and it would make the Jury assess the damages high.

A good many suits were dropping out of the list, which happened to be
exceptionally thin that summer, so that his case would be reached before
August. As the day grew nearer, Winifred was his only comfort. She
showed the fellow-feeling of one who had been through the mill, and was
the 'femme-sole' in whom he confided, well knowing that she would not
let Dartie into her confidence. That ruffian would be only too rejoiced!
At the end of July, on the afternoon before the case, he went in to
see her. They had not yet been able to leave town, because Dartie had
already spent their summer holiday, and Winifred dared not go to her
father for more money while he was waiting not to be told anything about
this affair of Soames.

Soames found her with a letter in her hand.

"That from Val," he asked gloomily. "What does he say?"

"He says he's married," said Winifred.

"Whom to, for Goodness' sake?"

Winifred looked up at him.

"To Holly Forsyte, Jolyon's daughter."

"What?"

"He got leave and did it. I didn't even know he knew her. Awkward, isn't
it?"

Soames uttered a short laugh at that characteristic minimisation.

"Awkward! Well, I don't suppose they'll hear about this till they come
back. They'd better stay out there. That fellow will give her money."

"But I want Val back," said Winifred almost piteously; "I miss him, he
helps me to get on."

"I know," murmured Soames. "How's Dartie behaving now?"

"It might be worse; but it's always money. Would you like me to come
down to the Court to-morrow, Soames?"

Soames stretched out his hand for hers. The gesture so betrayed the
loneliness in him that she pressed it between her two.

"Never mind, old boy. You'll feel ever so much better when it's all
over."

"I don't know what I've done," said Soames huskily; "I never have. It's
all upside down. I was fond of her; I've always been."

Winifred saw a drop of blood ooze out of his lip, and the sight stirred
her profoundly.

"Of course," she said, "it's been too bad of her all along! But what
shall I do about this marriage of Val's, Soames? I don't know how
to write to him, with this coming on. You've seen that child. Is she
pretty?"

"Yes, she's pretty," said Soames. "Dark--lady-like enough."

'That doesn't sound so bad,' thought Winifred. 'Jolyon had style.'

"It is a coil," she said. "What w