Tosleeplikethatchild！Hepressedaparttworungsofthevenetianblindandlookedout。Themoonwasrising，blood-red。Hehadneverseensoredamoon。Thewoodsandfieldsoutthereweredroppingtosleeptoo，inthelastglimmerofthesummerlight。
Andbeauty，likeaspirit，walked。’I’vehadalonglife，’hethought，’thebestofnearlyeverything。I’manungratefulchap；
I’veseenalotofbeautyinmytime。PooryoungBosinneysaidI
hadasenseofbeauty。There’samaninthemoonto-night！’A
mothwentby，another，another。’Ladiesingrey！’Heclosedhiseyes。Afeelingthathewouldneveropenthemagainbesethim；heletitgrow，lethimselfsink；then，withashiver，draggedthelidsup。Therewassomethingwrongwithhim，nodoubt，deeplywrong；hewouldhavetohavethedoctorafterall。Itdidn’tmuchmatternow！Intothatcoppicethemoon-lightwouldhavecrept；
therewouldbeshadows，andthoseshadowswouldbetheonlythingsawake。Nobirds，beasts，flowers，insects；Justtheshadows——
moving；’Ladiesingrey！’Overthatlogtheywouldclimb；wouldwhispertogether。SheandBosinney！Funnythought！Andthefrogsandlittlethingswouldwhispertoo！Howtheclockticked，inhere！Itwasalleerie-outthereinthelightofthatredmoon；inherewiththelittlesteadynight-lightand，thetickingclockandthenurse’sdressing-gownhangingfromtheedgeofthescreen，tall，likeawoman’sfigure。’Ladyingrey！’Andaveryoddthoughtbesethim：Didsheexist?Hadsheevercomeatall?Orwasshebuttheemanationofallthebeautyhehadlovedandmustleavesosoon?Theviolet-greyspiritwiththedarkeyesandthecrownofamberhair，whowalksthedawnandthemoonlight，andatblue-belltime?Whatwasshe，whowasshe，didsheexist?Heroseandstoodamomentclutchingthewindow-sill，togivehimasenseofrealityagain；thenbegantiptoeingtowardsthedoor。Hestoppedatthefootofthebed；andHolly，asifconsciousofhiseyesfixedonher，stirred，sighed，andcurledupcloserindefence。Hetiptoedonandpassedoutintothedarkpassage；
reachedhisroom，undressedatonce，andstoodbeforeamirrorinhisnight-shirt。Whatascarecrow——withtemplesfallenin，andthinlegs！Hiseyesresistedhisownimage，andalookofpridecameonhisface。Allwasinleaguetopullhimdown，evenhisreflectionintheglass，buthewasnotdown——yet！Hegotintobed，andlayalongtimewithoutsleeping，tryingtoreachresignation，onlytoowellawarethatfrettinganddisappointmentwereverybadforhim。HewokeinthemorningsounrefreshedandstrengthIessthathesentforthedoctor。Aftersoundinghim，thefellowpulledafaceaslongasyourarm，andorderedhimtostayinbedandgiveupsmoking。Thatwasnohardship；therewasnothingtogetupfor，andwhenhefeltill，tobaccoalwayslostitssavour。Hespentthemorninglanguidlywiththesun-blindsdown，turningandre-turningTheTimes，notreadingmuch，thedogBalthasarlyingbesidehisbed。Withhislunchtheybroughthimatelegram，runningthus：
’Yourletterreceivedcomingdownthisafternoonwillbewithyouatfour-thirty。Irene。’
Comingdown！Afterall！Thenshedidexist——andhewasnotdeserted。Comingdown！Aglowranthroughhislimbs；hischeeksandforeheadfelthot。Hedrankhissoup，andpushedthetray-
tableaway，lyingveryquietuntiltheyhadremovedlunchandlefthimalone；buteverynowandthenhiseyestwinkled。Comingdown！
Hisheartbeatfast，andthendidnotseemtobeatatall。Atthreeo’clockhegotupanddresseddeliberately，noiselessly。
HollyandMam’zellewouldbeintheschoolroom，andtheservantsasleepaftertheirdinner，heshouldn’twonder。Heopenedhisdoorcautiously，andwentdownstairs。InthehallthedogBalthasarlaysolitary，and，followedbyhim，oldJolyonpassedintohisstudyandoutintotheburningafternoon。Hemeanttogodownandmeetherinthecoppice，butfeltatoncehecouldnotmanagethatinthisheat。Hesatdowninsteadundertheoaktreebytheswing，andthedogBalthasar，whoalsofelttheheat，laydownbesidehim。
Hesattheresmiling。Whatarevelofbrightminutes！Whatahumofinsects，andcooingofpigeons！Itwasthequintessenceofasummerday。Lovely！Andhewashappy——happyasasand-boy，what-
everthatmightbe。Shewascoming；shehadnotgivenhimup！Hehadeverythinginlifehewanted——exceptalittlemorebreath，andlessweight——justhere！Hewouldseeherwhensheemergedfromthefernery，comeswayingjustalittle，aviolet-greyfigurepassingoverthedaisiesanddandelionsand’soldiers’onthelawn——thesoldierswiththeirflowerycrowns。Hewouldnotmove，butshewouldcomeuptohimandsay：’DearUncleJolyon，Iamsorry！’andsitintheswingandlethimlookatherandtellherthathehadnotbeenverywellbutwasallrightnow；andthatdogwouldlickherhand。Thatdogknewhismasterwasfondofher；thatdogwasagooddog。
Itwasquiteshadyunderthetree；thesuncouldnotgetathim，onlymaketherestoftheworldbrightsothathecouldseetheGrandStandatEpsomawayoutthere，veryfar，andthecowscrop-
pingthecloverinthefieldandswishingattheflieswiththeirtails。Hesmelledthescentoflimes，andlavender。Ah！thatwaswhytherewassucharacketofbees。Theywereexcited——busy，ashisheartwasbusyandexcited。Drowsy，too，drowsyanddruggedonhoneyandhappiness；ashisheartwasdruggedanddrowsy。Summer——
summer——theyseemedsaying；greatbeesandlittlebees，andthefliestoo！
Thestableclockstruckfour；inhalfanhourshewouldbehere。
Hewouldhavejustonetinynap，becausehehadhadsolittlesleepoflate；andthenhewouldbefreshforher，freshforyouthandbeauty，comingtowardshimacrossthesunlitlawn——ladyingrey！
Andsettlingbackinhischairheclosedhiseyes。Somethistle-
downcameonwhatlittleairtherewas，andpitchedonhismoustachemorewhitethanitself。Hedidnotknow；buthisbreathingstirredit，caughtthere。Arayofsunlightstruckthroughandlodgedonhisboot。Abumble-beealightedandstrolledonthecrownofhisPanamahat。Andthedelicioussurgeofslumberreachedthebrainbeneaththathat，andtheheadswayedforwardandrestedonhisbreast。Summer——summer！Sowentthehum。
Thestableclockstruckthequarterpast。ThedogBalthasarstretchedandlookedupathismaster。Thethistledownnolongermoved。Thedogplacedhischinoverthesunlitfoot。Itdidnotstir。Thedogwithdrewhischinquickly，rose，andleapedonoldJolyon’slap，lookedinhisface，whined；then，leapingdown，satonhishaunches，gazingup。Andsuddenlyheutteredalong，longhowl。
Butthethistledownwasstillasdeath，andthefaceofhisoldmaster。
Summer——summer——summer！Thesoundlessfootstepsonthegrass！
1917
INCHANCERY
Twohouseholdsbothalikeindignity，>Fromancientgrudge，breakintonewmutiny——
RomeoandJulietTOJESSIEANDJOSEPHCONRAD
PART1
CHAPTERI
ATTIMOTHY’S
Thepossessiveinstinctneverstandsstill。Throughflorescenceandfeud，frostsandfires，itfollowedthelawsofprogressionevenintheForsytefamilywhichhadbelieveditfixedforever。
Norcanitbedissociatedfromenvironmentanymorethanthequalityofpotatofromthesoil。
ThehistorianoftheEnglisheightiesandninetieswill，inhisgoodtime，depictthesomewhatrapidprogressionfromself-
contentedandcontainedprovincialismtostillmoreself-contentediflesscontainedimperialism——inotherwords，the’possessive’
instinctofthenationonthemove。Andso，asifinconformity，wasitwiththeForsytefamily。Theywerespreadingnotmerelyonthesurface，butwithin。
When，in1895，SusanHayman，themarriedForsytesister，followedherhusbandattheludicrouslylowageofseventy-four，andwascremated，itmadestrangelylittlestiramongthesixoldForsytesleft。Forthisapathytherewerethreecauses。First：thealmostsurreptitiousburialofoldJolyonin1892downatRobinHill——
firstoftheForsytestodesertthefamilygraveatHighgate。Thatburial，comingayearafterSwithin’sentirelyproperfuneral，hadoccasionedagreatdealoftalkonForsyte’Change，theabodeofTimothyForsyteontheBayswaterRoad，London，whichstillcol-
lectedandradiatedfamilygossip。OpinionsrangedfromthelamentationofAuntJuleytotheoutspokenassertionofFranciethatitwas’ajollygoodthingtostopallthatstuffyHighgatebusiness。’UncleJolyoninhislateryears——indeed，eversincethestrangeandlamentableaffairbetweenhisgranddaughterJune’slover，youngBosinney，andIrene，hisnephewSoamesForsyte’swife——
hadnoticeablyrappedthefamily’sknuckles；andthatwayofhisownwhichhehadalwaystakenhadbeguntoseemtothemalittlewayward。Thephilosophicveininhim，ofcourse，hadalwaysbeentooliabletocropoutofthestrataofpureForsyteism，sotheywereinawaypreparedforhisintermentinastrangespot。Butthewholethingwasanoddbusiness，andwhenthecontentsofhisWillbecamecurrentcoinonForsyte’Change，ashiverhadgoneroundtheclan。OutofhisestateL145，304gross，withliabilitiesL357s。4d。hehadactuallyleftL15，000to”whomeverdoyouthink，mydear?ToIrene！”thatrunawaywifeofhisnephewSoames；Irene，awomanwhohadalmostdisgracedthefamily，and