s own
unhappy home, not someone else's: And the old saying came back to him: 'A
man's fate lies in his own heart.'

In his own heart! The proof of the pudding was in the eating--Bosinney
had still to eat his pudding.

His thoughts passed to the woman, the woman whom he did not know, but the
outline of whose story he had heard.

An unhappy marriage! No ill-treatment--only that indefinable malaise,
that terrible blight which killed all sweetness under Heaven; and so from
day to day, from night to night, from week to week, from year to year,
till death should end it.

But young Jolyon, the bitterness of whose own feelings time had assuaged,
saw Soames' side of the question too. Whence should a man like his
cousin, saturated with all the prejudices and beliefs of his class, draw
the insight or inspiration necessary to break up this life? It was a
question of imagination, of projecting himself into the future beyond the
unpleasant gossip, sneers, and tattle that followed on such separations,
beyond the passing pangs that the lack of the sight of her would cause,
beyond the grave disapproval of the worthy. But few men, and especially
few men of Soames' class, had imagination enough for that. A deal of
mortals in this world, and not enough imagination to go round! And sweet
Heaven, what a difference between theory and practice; many a man,
perhaps even Soames, held chivalrous views on such matters, who when the
shoe pinched found a distinguishing factor that made of himself an
exception.

Then, too, he distrusted his judgment. He had been through the
experience himself, had tasted too the dregs the bitterness of an unhappy
marriage, and how could he take the wide and dispassionate view of those
who had never been within sound of the battle? His evidence was too
first-hand--like the evidence on military matters of a soldier who has
been through much active service, against that of civilians who have not
suffered the disadvantage of seeing things too close. Most people would
consider such a marriage as that of Soames and Irene quite fairly
successful; he had money, she had beauty; it was a case for compromise.
There was no reason why they should not jog along, even if they hated
each other. It would not matter if they went their own ways a little so
long as the decencies were observed--the sanctity of the marriage tie, of
the common home, respected. Half the marriages of the upper classes were
conducted on these