Of course, ‘circuses’ had their use. They kept the people quiet. Violence by proxy, for instance, was obviously a political principle of some value. It was difficult to gape at the shedding of blood and shed it at the same time; the more people stood in rows to see others being hurt, the less trouble would they take to hurt others, and the sounder Soames could sleep by night. Still sensation-hunting had become a disease, in his opinion, and no one was being inoculated for it, so far as he could see!
As the weeks went on and the cases before it in the List went off, the ‘circus’ they were proposing to make of his daughter appeared to him more and more monstrous. He had an instinctive distrust of Scotchmen – they called themselves Scotsmen nowadays, as if it helped their character! – they never let go, and he could not approve in other people a quality native to himself. Besides, ‘Scotchmen’ were so-so exuberant – always either dour or else hearty – extravagant chaps! Towards the middle of March, with the case in the List for the following week, he took an extreme step and entered the Lobby of the House of Commons. He had spoken to no one of his determination to make this last effort, for it seemed to him that all – Annette, Michael, Fleur herself – had done their best to spoil the chance of settlement.
Having sent in his card, he waited a long while in that lofty purlieu. ‘Lobbying’, he knew the phrase, but had never realized the waste of time involved in it. The statues consoled him somewhat. Sir Stafford Northcote – a steady chap; at old Forsyte dinner-parties in the ‘eighties his character had been as much a standby as the saddle of mutton. He found even ‘that fellow Gladstone’ bearable in stucco, or whatever it was up there. You might dislike, but you couldn’t sneeze at him, as at some of these modern chaps. He was sunk in coma before Lord Granville when at last he heard the words:
‘Sir Alexander MacGown,’ and saw a square man with a ruddy face, stiff black hair, and clipped moustache, coming between the railings, with a card in his hand.
‘Mr Forsyte?’
‘Yes. Can we go anywhere that’s not quite so public?’
The ‘Scotchman’ nodded, and led him down a corridor to a small room.
‘Well?’
Soames smoothed his hat. ‘This affair,’ he said, ‘can’t be any more agreeable to you than it is to me.’
‘Are you the individual who was good enough to apply the word “traitress” to the lady I’m engaged to?’
‘That is so.’
‘Then I don’t see how you have the impudence to come and speak to me.’
Soames bit his lips.
‘I spoke under the provocation of hearing your fiancée call my daughter a snob, in her own house. Do you want this petty affair made public?’
‘If you think that you and your daughter can get away with calling the lady I’m going to marry “a snake”, “a traitress”, “an immoral person”, you’re more mistaken than you ever were in your life. An unqualified apology that her Counsel can announce in Court is your only way out.’
‘That you won’t get; mutual regret is another thing. As to the question of damages –’
‘Damn the damages!’ said MacGown violently. And there was that in Soames which applauded.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry for you and her.’
‘What the devil do you mean, sir?’
‘You will know by the end of next week, unless you revise your views in between. If it comes into Court, we shall justify.’
The ‘Scotchman’ went so red that for a moment Soames was really afraid he would have an apoplectic fit.
‘You’d better look out what you say in Court.’
‘We pay no attention to bullies in Court.’
MacGown clenched his fists.
‘Yes,’ said Soames, ‘it’s a pity I’m not your age. Good evening!’
He passed the fellow and went out. He had noted his way in this ‘rabbit warren’, and was soon back among the passionless statues. Well! He had turned the last stone and could do no more, except make that overbearing fellow and his young woman sorry they’d ever been born. He came out into the chilly mist of Westminster. Pride and temper! Sooner than admit themselves in the wrong, people would turn themselves into an expensive ‘circus’ for the gaping and the sneers, the japing and the jeers of half the town! To vindicate her ‘honour’, that ‘Scotchman’ would have his young woman’s past dragged out! And fairly faced by the question whether to drag it out or not, Soames stood still. If he didn’t, she might get a verdict; if he did, and didn’t convince the jury, the damages would be shockingly increased. They might run into thousands. He felt the need of definite decision. One had been drifting in the belief that the thing wouldn’t come into Court! Four o’clock! Not too late, perhaps, to see Sir James Foskisson. He would telephone to very young Nicholas to arrange a conference at once, and if Michael was at South Square, he would take him down to it.…