In these go-ahead days their provincialism stared out even
more than it used to. Why, old Nicholas was still a Free Trader, and a
member of that antediluvian home of Liberalism, the Remove Club--though,
to be sure, the members were pretty well all Conservatives now, or he
himself could not have joined; and Timothy, they said, still wore a
nightcap. Aunt Juley spoke again. Dear Soames was looking so well,
hardly a day older than he did when dear Ann died, and they were all
there together, dear Jolyon, and dear Swithin, and dear Roger. She
paused and caught the tear which had climbed the pout on her right cheek.
Did he--did he ever hear anything of Irene nowadays? Aunt Hester visibly
interposed her shoulder. Really, Juley was always saying something! The
smile left Soames' face, and he put his cup down. Here was his subject
broached for him, and for all his desire to expand, he could not take
advantage.
Aunt Juley went on rather hastily:
"They say dear Jolyon first left her that fifteen thousand out and out;
then of course he saw it would not be right, and made it for her life
only."
Had Soames heard that?
Soames nodded.
"Your cousin Jolyon is a widower now. He is her trustee; you knew that,
of course?"
Soames shook his head. He did know, but wished to show no interest.
Young Jolyon and he had not met since the day of Bosinney's death.
"He must be quite middle-aged by now," went on Aunt Juley dreamily. "Let
me see, he was born when your dear uncle lived in Mount Street; long
before they went to Stanhope Gate in December. Just before that dreadful
Commune. Over fifty! Fancy that! Such a pretty baby, and we were all
so proud of him; the very first of you all." Aunt Juley sighed, and a
lock of not quite her own hair came loose and straggled, so that Aunt
Hester gave a little shiver. Soames rose, he was experiencing a curious
piece of self-discovery. That old wound to his pride and self-esteem was
not yet closed. He had come thinking he could talk of it, even wanting
to talk of his fettered condition, and--behold! he was shrinking away
from this reminder by Aunt Juley, renowned for her Malapropisms.
Oh, Soames was not going already!
Soames smiled a little vindictively, and said:
"Yes. Good-bye. Remember me to Uncle Timothy!" And, leaving a cold
kiss on each forehead, whose wrinkles seemed to try and cling to his lips
as if longing to be kissed away, he left them looking brightly after
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