's lover,
young Bosinney, and Irene, his nephew Soames Forsyte's wife--had
noticeably rapped the family's knuckles; and that way of his own which he
had always taken had begun to seem to them a little wayward. The
philosophic vein in him, of course, had always been too liable to crop
out of the strata of pure Forsyteism, so they were in a way prepared for
his interment in a strange spot. But the whole thing was an odd
business, and when the contents of his Will became current coin on
Forsyte 'Change, a shiver had gone round the clan. Out of his estate
(L145,304 gross, with liabilities L35 7s. 4d.) he had actually left
L15,000 to "whomever do you think, my dear? To Irene!" that runaway wife
of his nephew Soames; Irene, a woman who had almost disgraced the family,
and--still more amazing was to him no blood relation. Not out and out,
of course; only a life interest--only the income from it! Still, there
it was; and old Jolyon's claim to be the perfect Forsyte was ended once
for all. That, then, was the first reason why the burial of Susan
Hayman--at Woking--made little stir.

The second reason was altogether more expansive and imperial. Besides the
house on Campden Hill, Susan had a place (left her by Hayman when he
died) just over the border in Hants, where the Hayman boys had learned to
be such good shots and riders, as it was believed, which was of course
nice for them, and creditable to everybody; and the fact of owning
something really countrified seemed somehow to excuse the dispersion of
her remains--though what could have put cremation into her head they
could not think! The usual invitations, however, had been issued, and
Soames had gone down and young Nicholas, and the Will had been quite
satisfactory so far as it went, for she had only had a life interest; and
everything had gone quite smoothly to the children in equal shares.

The third reason why Susan's burial made little stir was the most
expansive of all. It was summed up daringly by Euphemia, the pale, the
thin: "Well, I think people have a right to their own bodies, even when
they're dead." Coming from a daughter of Nicholas, a Liberal of the old
school and most tyrannical, it was a startling remark--showing in a flash
what a lot of water had run under bridges since the death of Aunt Ann in
'86, just when the proprietorship of Soames over his wife's body was
acquiring the uncertainty which had led to such disaster. Euphemia, of
course, spoke