flesh and blood. It was her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never perhaps known any other. All their littlesecrets, illnesses, engagements, and marriages, how they were getting on, and whether they were making money — all this washer property, her delight, her life; beyond this only a vague, shadowy mist of facts and persons of no real significance.This it was that she would have to lay down when it came to her turn to die; this which gave to her that importance, thatsecret self-importance, without which none of us can bear to live; and to this she clung wistfully, with a greed that greweach day! If life were slipping away from her, this she would retain to the end.

She thought of June’s father, young Jolyon, who had run away with that foreign girl. And what a sad blow to his fatherand to them all. Such a promising young fellow! A sad blow, though there had been no public scandal, most fortunately, Jo’swife seeking for no divorce! A long time ago! And when June’s mother died, six years ago, Jo had married that woman, andthey had two children now, so she had heard. Still, he had forfeited his right to be there, had cheated her of the completefulfilment of her family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of seeing and kissing him of whom she had been soproud, such a promising young fellow! The thought rankled with the bitterness of a long-inflicted injury in her tenaciousold heart. A little water stood in her eyes. With a handkerchief of the finest lawn she wiped them stealthily.

“Well, Aunt Ann?” said a voice behind.

Soames Forsyte, flat-shouldered, clean-shaven, flat-cheeked, flat-waisted, yet with something round and secret about hiswhole appearance, looked downwards and aslant at Aunt Ann, as though trying to see through the side of his own nose.

“And what do you think of the engagement?” he asked.

Aunt Ann’s eyes rested on him proudly; of all the nephews since young Jolyon’s departure from the family nest, he was nowher favourite, for she recognised in him a sure trustee of the family soul that must so soon slip beyond her keeping.