leur's who was staying in the house, and a neighbouring youth
or so, they made two couples after dinner, in the hall, to the music of
the electric pianola, which performed Fox-trots unassisted, with a
surprised shine on its expressive surface. Annette, even, now and then
passed gracefully up and down in the arms of one or other of the young
men. And Soames, coming to the drawing-room door, would lift his nose a
little sideways, and watch them, waiting to catch a smile from Fleur;
then move back to his chair by the drawing-room hearth, to peruse The
Times or some other collector's price list. To his ever-anxious eyes
Fleur showed no signs of remembering that caprice of hers.

When she reached him on the dusty road, he slipped his hand within her
arm.

"Who, do you think, has been to see you, Dad? She couldn't wait! Guess!"

"I never guess," said Soames uneasily. "Who?"

"Your cousin, June Forsyte."

Quite unconsciously Soames gripped her arm. "What did she want?"

"I don't know. But it was rather breaking through the feud, wasn't it?"

"Feud? What feud?"

"The one that exists in your imagination, dear."

Soames dropped her arm. Was she mocking, or trying to draw him on?

"I suppose she wanted me to buy a picture," he said at last.

"I don't think so. Perhaps it was just family affection."

"She's only a first cousin once removed," muttered Soames.

"And the daughter of your enemy."

"What d'you mean by that?"

"I beg your pardon, dear; I thought he was."

"Enemy!" repeated Soames. "It's ancient history. I don't know where you
get your notions."

"From June Forsyte."

It had come to her as an inspiration that if he thought she knew, or were
on the edge of knowledge, he would tell her.

Soames was startled, but she had underrated his caution and tenacity.

"If you know," he said coldly, "why do you plague me?"

Fleur saw that she had overreached herself.

"I don't want to plague you, darling. As you say, why want to know more?
Why want to know anything of that 'small' mystery--Je m'en fiche, as
Profond says?"

"That chap!" said Soames profoundly.

That chap, indeed, played a considerable, if invisible, part this
summer--for he had not turned up again. Ever since the Sunday when Fleur
had drawn attention to him prowling on the lawn, Soames had thought of
him a good deal, and always in connection with Annette, for no reason,
except that she was looking handsomer than for some time p