, not
perhaps despising, but certainly of questioning, his own high position,
while Soames, who never smoked cigars, would not.

Then, too, in old Jolyon's mind there was always the secret ache, that
the son of James--of James, whom he had always thought such a poor
thing, should be pursuing the paths of success, while his own son...!

And last, not least--for he was no more outside the radiation of
family gossip than any other Forsyte--he had now heard the sinister,
indefinite, but none the less disturbing rumour about Bosinney, and his
pride was wounded to the quick.

Characteristically, his irritation turned not against Irene but against
Soames. The idea that his nephew's wife (why couldn't the fellow
take better care of her--Oh! quaint injustice! as though Soames could
possibly take more care!)--should be drawing to herself June's lover,
was intolerably humiliating. And seeing the danger, he did not, like
James, hide it away in sheer nervousness, but owned with the dispassion
of his broader outlook, that it was not unlikely; there was something
very attractive about Irene!

He had a presentiment on the subject of Soames' communication as they
left the Board Room together, and went out into the noise and hurry of
Cheapside. They walked together a good minute without speaking, Soames
with his mousing, mincing step, and old Jolyon upright and using his
umbrella languidly as a walking-stick.

They turned presently into comparative quiet, for old Jolyon's way to a
second Board led him in the direction of Moorage Street.

Then Soames, without lifting his eyes, began: "I've had this letter from
Bosinney. You see what he says; I thought I'd let you know. I've spent
a lot more than I intended on this house, and I want the position to be
clear."

Old Jolyon ran his eyes unwillingly over the letter: "What he says is
clear enough," he said.

"He talks about 'a free hand,'" replied Soames.

Old Jolyon looked at him. The long-suppressed irritation and antagonism
towards this young fellow, whose affairs were beginning to intrude upon
his own, burst from him.

"Well, if you don't trust him, why do you employ him?"

Soames stole a sideway look: "It's much too late to go into that," he
said, "I only want it to be quite understood that if I give him a free
hand, he doesn't let me in. I thought if you were to speak to him, it
would carry more weight!"

"No," said old Jolyon abruptly; "I'll have nothing to do with it!"