grave at Highgate. That burial, coming a year after Swithin’s entirely proper funeral, had occasioned a great deal of talkon Forsyte ‘Change, the abode of Timothy Forsyte on the Bayswater Road, London, which still collected and radiated familygossip. Opinions ranged from the lamentation of Aunt Juley to the outspoken assertion of Francie that it was ‘a jolly goodthing to stop all that stuffy Highgate business.’ Uncle Jolyon in his later years — indeed, ever since the strange andlamentable affair between his granddaughter June’s lover, young Bosinney, and Irene, his nephew Soames Forsyte’s wife — hadnoticeably rapped the family’s knuckles; and that way of his own which he had always taken had begun to seem to them alittle wayward. The philosophic vein in him, of course, had always been too liable to crop out of the strata of pureForsyteism, so they were in a way prepared for his interment in a strange spot. But the whole thing was an odd business, andwhen the contents of his Will became current coin on Forsyte ‘Change, a shiver had gone round the clan. Out of his estate(L145,304 gross, with liabilities L35 7s. 4d.) he had actually left L15,000 to “whomever do you think, my dear? To Irene!”that runaway wife of his nephew Soames; Irene, a woman who had almost disgraced the family, and — still more amazing was tohim no blood relation. Not out and out, of course; only a life interest — only the income from it! Still, there it was; andold Jolyon’s claim to be the perfect Forsyte was ended once for all. That, then, was the first reason why the burial ofSusan Hayman — at Woking — made little stir.

The second reason was altogether more expansive and imperial. Besides the house on Campden Hill, Susan had a place (lefther by Hayman when he died) just over the border in Hants, where the Hayman boys had learned to be such good shots andriders, as it was believed, which was of course nice for them, and creditable to everybody; and the fact of owning something