Providence.

With an air of being in at the death, she had an almost distressing power
of taking care of herself. She had done more, perhaps, in her way than
any woman about town to destroy the sense of chivalry which still clogs
the wheel of civilization. So smart she was, and spoken of endearingly as
'the little MacAnder!'

Dressing tightly and well, she belonged to a Woman's Club, but was by no
means the neurotic and dismal type of member who was always thinking of
her rights. She took her rights unconsciously, they came natural to her,
and she knew exactly how to make the most of them without exciting
anything but admiration amongst that great class to whom she was
affiliated, not precisely perhaps by manner, but by birth, breeding, and
the true, the secret gauge, a sense of property.

The daughter of a Bedfordshire solicitor, by the daughter of a clergyman,
she had never, through all the painful experience of being married to a
very mild painter with a cranky love of Nature, who had deserted her for
an actress, lost touch with the requirements, beliefs, and inner feeling
of Society; and, on attaining her liberty, she placed herself without
effort in the very van of Forsyteism.

Always in good spirits, and 'full of information,' she was universally
welcomed. She excited neither surprise nor disapprobation when
encountered on the Rhine or at Zermatt, either alone, or travelling with
a lady and two gentlemen; it was felt that she was perfectly capable of
taking care of herself; and the hearts of all Forsytes warmed to that
wonderful instinct, which enabled her to enjoy everything without giving
anything away. It was generally felt that to such women as Mrs. MacAnder
should we look for the perpetuation and increase of our best type of
woman. She had never had any children.

If there was one thing more than another that she could not stand it was
one of those soft women with what men called 'charm' about them, and for
Mrs. Soames she always had an especial dislike.

Obscurely, no doubt, she felt that if charm were once admitted as the
criterion, smartness and capability must go to the wall; and she
hated--with a hatred the deeper that at times this so-called charm seemed
to disturb all calculations--the subtle seductiveness which she could not
altogether overlook in Irene.

She said, however, that she could see nothing in the woman--there was no
'go' about her--she would never be able to stand up for herse