The Forsyte Saga, Volume 3(247)
‘Come into Mount Street, and we’ll go to a film.’
In the hall Blore handed Dinny a note.
‘Sir Gerald Corven called, Miss, and left this for you.’
Dinny opened it.
DEAR DINNY, –
I’m leaving England tomorrow instead of Saturday. If Clare will change her mind I shall be very happy to take her. If not, she must not expect me to be long-suffering. I have left a note to this effect at her lodgings, but as I do not know where she is, I wrote to you also, so as to be sure that she knows. She or a message from her will find me at the Bristol up to three o’clock tomorrow, Thursday. After that ‘à la guerre comme à la guerre.’
With many regrets that things are so criss-cross and good wishes to yourself,
I am,
Very sincerely yours,
GERALD CORVEN
Dinny bit her lip.
‘Read this!’
Clare read the note.
‘I shan’t go, and he can do what he likes.’
While they were titivating themselves in Dinny’s room, Lady Mont came in.
‘Ah!’ she said: ‘Now I can say my piece. Your Uncle has seen Jerry Corven again. What are you goin’ to do about him, Clare?’
As Clare swivelled round from the mirror, the light fell full on cheeks and lips whose toilet she had not quite completed.
‘I’m never going back to him, Aunt Em.’
‘May I sit on your bed, Dinny? “Never” is a long time, and – er – that Mr Craven. I’m sure you have principles, Clare, but you’re too pretty.’
Clare put down her lipstick.
‘Sweet of you, Aunt Em; but really I know what I’m about.’
‘So comfortin’! When I say that myself, I’m sure to make a gaffe.’
‘If Clare promises, she’ll perform, Auntie.’
Lady Mont sighed. ‘I promised my father not to marry for a year. Seven months – and then your uncle. It’s always somebody.’
Clare raised her hands to the little curls on her neck.
‘I’ll promise not to “kick over” for a year. I ought to know my own mind by then; if I don’t, I can’t have got one.’
Lady Mont smoothed the eiderdown.
‘Cross your heart.’
‘I don’t think you should,’ said Dinny quickly.
Clare crossed her fingers on her breast.
‘I’ll cross where it ought to be.’
Lady Mont rose.
‘She ought to stay here tonight, don’t you think, Dinny?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll tell them, then. Sea-green is your colour, Dinny. Lawrence says I haven’t one.’
‘Black and white, dear.’
‘Magpies and the Duke of Portland. I haven’t been to Ascot since Michael went to Winchester – savin’ our pennies. Hilary and May are comin’ to dinner. They won’t be dressed.’
‘Oh!’ said Clare suddenly: ‘Does Uncle Hilary know about me?’
‘Broad-minded,’ murmured Lady Mont. ‘I can’t help bein’ sorry, you know.’
Clare stood up.
‘Believe me, Aunt Em, Jerry’s not the sort of man who’ll let it hurt him long.’
‘Stand back to back, you two; I thought so – Dinny by an inch.’
‘I’m five foot five,’ said Clare, ‘without shoes.’
‘Very well. When you’re tidy, come down.’
So saying, Lady Mont swayed to the door, said to herself: ‘Solomon’s seal – remind Boswell,’ and went out.
Dinny returned to the fire, and resumed her stare at the flames.
Clare’s voice, close behind her, said: ‘I feel inclined to sing, Dinny. A whole year’s holiday from everything. I’m glad Aunt Em made me promise. But isn’t she a scream?’
‘Emphatically not. She’s the wisest member of our family. Take life seriously and you’re nowhere. She doesn’t. She may want to, but she can’t.’
‘But she hasn’t any real worries.’
‘Only a husband, three children, several grandchildren, two households, three dogs, some congenial gardeners, not enough money, and two passions – one for getting other people married, and one for French tapestry; besides trying hard not to get fat on it all.’
‘Oh she’s a duck all right. What d’you advise about these “tendrils,” Dinny? They’re an awful plague. Shall I shingle again?’
‘Let them grow at present, we don’t know what’s coming; it might be ringlets.’
‘Do you believe that women get themselves up to please men?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘To excite and annoy each other, then?’
‘Fashion mostly; women are sheep about appearance.’
‘And morals?’