young fellow--doesn't make his hundred a year! Now this engagement is
the best thing that could have happened--keep him steady; he's one
of those that go to bed all day and stay up all night, simply because
they've no method; but no vice about him--not an ounce of vice. Old
Forsyte's a rich man!"

Mr. Baynes made himself extremely pleasant to June, who frequently
visited his house in Lowndes Square at this period.

"This house of your cousin's--what a capital man of business--is the
very thing for Philip," he would say to her; "you mustn't expect to see
too much of him just now, my dear young lady. The good cause--the good
cause! The young man must make his way. When I was his age I was at work
day and night. My dear wife used to say to me, 'Bobby, don't work too
hard, think of your health'; but I never spared myself!"

June had complained that her lover found no time to come to Stanhope
Gate.

The first time he came again they had not been together a quarter of an
hour before, by one of those coincidences of which she was a mistress,
Mrs. Septimus Small arrived. Thereon Bosinney rose and hid himself,
according to previous arrangement, in the little study, to wait for her
departure.

"My dear," said Aunt Juley, "how thin he is! I've often noticed it
with engaged people; but you mustn't let it get worse. There's Barlow's
extract of veal; it did your Uncle Swithin a lot of good."

June, her little figure erect before the hearth, her small face
quivering grimly, for she regarded her aunt's untimely visit in the
light of a personal injury, replied with scorn:

"It's because he's busy; people who can do anything worth doing are
never fat!"

Aunt Juley pouted; she herself had always been thin, but the only
pleasure she derived from the fact was the opportunity of longing to be
stouter.

"I don't think," she said mournfully, "that you ought to let them call
him 'The Buccaneer'; people might think it odd, now that he's going
to build a house for Soames. I do hope he will be careful; it's so
important for him. Soames has such good taste!"

"Taste!" cried June, flaring up at once; "wouldn't give that for his
taste, or any of the family's!"

Mrs. Small was taken aback.

"Your Uncle Swithin," she said, "always had beautiful taste! And
Soames's little house is lovely; you don't mean to say you don't think
so!"

"H'mph!" said June, "that's only because Irene's there!"

Aunt Juley tried to say something pleasant: