The Forsyte Saga - Volume 2 - Page 133/238

Winifred, who had adopted a kind of half-mourning which became her fair

hair and tall figure very well, arrived in James' barouche drawn by

James' pair. Soames had not seen it in the City since his father retired

from business five years ago, and its incongruity gave him a shock.

'Times are changing,' he thought; 'one doesn't know what'll go next!'

Top hats even were scarcer. He enquired after Val. Val, said Winifred,

wrote that he was going to play polo next term. She thought he was in a

very good set. She added with fashionably disguised anxiety: "Will there

be much publicity about my affair, Soames? Must it be in the papers?

It's so bad for him, and the girls."

With his own calamity all raw within him, Soames answered:

"The papers are a pushing lot; it's very difficult to keep things out.

They pretend to be guarding the public's morals, and they corrupt them

with their beastly reports. But we haven't got to that yet. We're

only seeing Dreamer to-day on the restitution question. Of course he

understands that it's to lead to a divorce; but you must seem genuinely

anxious to get Dartie back--you might practice that attitude to-day."

Winifred sighed.

"Oh! What a clown Monty's been!" she said.

Soames gave her a sharp look. It was clear to him that she could not

take her Dartie seriously, and would go back on the whole thing if given

half a chance. His own instinct had been firm in this matter from the

first. To save a little scandal now would only bring on his sister and

her children real disgrace and perhaps ruin later on if Dartie were

allowed to hang on to them, going down-hill and spending the money James

would leave his daughter. Though it was all tied up, that fellow would

milk the settlements somehow, and make his family pay through the

nose to keep him out of bankruptcy or even perhaps gaol! They left

the shining carriage, with the shining horses and the shining-hatted

servants on the Embankment, and walked up to Dreamer Q.C.'s Chambers in

Crown Office Row.

"Mr. Bellby is here, sir," said the clerk; "Mr. Dreamer will be ten

minutes."

Mr. Bellby, the junior--not as junior as he might have been, for Soames

only employed barristers of established reputation; it was, indeed,

something of a mystery to him how barristers ever managed to establish

that which made him employ them--Mr. Bellby was seated, taking a final

glance through his papers. He had come from Court, and was in wig and

gown, which suited a nose jutting out like the handle of a tiny pump,

his small shrewd blue eyes, and rather protruding lower lip--no better

man to supplement and stiffen Dreamer.