to have all the decorations as well--a free hand. It's perfect--"
June broke into laughter, her little figure quivered gleefully; she
raised her hand, and struck a blow at a muslin curtain. "Do you, know
I even asked Uncle James...." But, with a sudden dislike to mentioning
that incident, she stopped; and presently, finding her friend so
unresponsive, went away. She looked back from the pavement, and Irene
was still standing in the doorway. In response to her farewell wave,
Irene put her hand to her brow, and, turning slowly, shut the door....

Soames went to the drawing-room presently, and peered at her through the
window.

Out in the shadow of the Japanese sunshade she was sitting very still,
the lace on her white shoulders stirring with the soft rise and fall of
her bosom.

But about this silent creature sitting there so motionless, in the dark,
there seemed a warmth, a hidden fervour of feeling, as if the whole of
her being had been stirred, and some change were taking place in its
very depths.

He stole back to the dining-room unnoticed.

CHAPTER VI--JAMES AT LARGE

It was not long before Soames's determination to build went the round
of the family, and created the flutter that any decision connected with
property should make among Forsytes.

It was not his fault, for he had been determined that no one should
know. June, in the fulness of her heart, had told Mrs. Small, giving her
leave only to tell Aunt Ann--she thought it would cheer her, the poor
old sweet! for Aunt Ann had kept her room now for many days.

Mrs. Small told Aunt Ann at once, who, smiling as she lay back on her
pillows, said in her distinct, trembling old voice:

"It's very nice for dear June; but I hope they will be careful--it's
rather dangerous!"

When she was left alone again, a frown, like a cloud presaging a rainy
morrow, crossed her face.

While she was lying there so many days the process of recharging her
will went on all the time; it spread to her face, too, and tightening
movements were always in action at the corners of her lips.

The maid Smither, who had been in her service since girlhood, and was
spoken of as "Smither--a good girl--but so slow!"--the maid Smither
performed every morning with extreme punctiliousness the crowning
ceremony of that ancient toilet. Taking from the recesses of their pure
white band-box those flat, grey curls, the insignia of personal dignity,
she placed them securely in her mistress'