They tell
me June's going to Wales. You'll be lonely tomorrow. What'll you do with
yourself? You'd better come and dine with us!"
Old Jolyon refused. He went down to the front door and saw them into
their barouche, and twinkled at them, having already forgotten his
spleen--Mrs. James facing the horses, tall and majestic with auburn
hair; on her left, Irene--the two husbands, father and son, sitting
forward, as though they expected something, opposite their wives.
Bobbing and bounding upon the spring cushions, silent, swaying to each
motion of their chariot, old Jolyon watched them drive away under the
sunlight.
During the drive the silence was broken by Mrs. James.
"Did you ever see such a collection of rumty-too people?"
Soames, glancing at her beneath his eyelids, nodded, and he saw Irene
steal at him one of her unfathomable looks. It is likely enough that
each branch of the Forsyte family made that remark as they drove away
from old Jolyon's 'At Home!'
Amongst the last of the departing guests the fourth and fifth brothers,
Nicholas and Roger, walked away together, directing their steps
alongside Hyde Park towards the Praed Street Station of the Underground.
Like all other Forsytes of a certain age they kept carriages of their
own, and never took cabs if by any means they could avoid it.
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