," he said, "could you tell me if there are likely to be any
more of you coming down? I should like to be on the spot!"

"Any more?" said James bewildered, "who should there be more? I don't
know of any more. Good-bye?"

Looking at the ground he held out his hand, crossed the palm of it with
Bosinney's, and taking his umbrella just above the silk, walked away
along the terrace.

Before he turned the corner he glanced back, and saw Bosinney following
him slowly--'slinking along the wall' as he put it to himself, 'like a
great cat.' He paid no attention when the young fellow raised his hat.

Outside the drive, and out of sight, he slackened his pace still
more. Very slowly, more bent than when he came, lean, hungry, and
disheartened, he made his way back to the station.

The Buccaneer, watching him go so sadly home, felt sorry perhaps for his
behaviour to the old man.

CHAPTER V--SOAMES AND BOSINNEY CORRESPOND

James said nothing to his son of this visit to the house; but, having
occasion to go to Timothy's on morning on a matter connected with a
drainage scheme which was being forced by the sanitary authorities on
his brother, he mentioned it there.

It was not, he said, a bad house. He could see that a good deal could be
made of it. The fellow was clever in his way, though what it was going
to cost Soames before it was done with he didn't know.

Euphemia Forsyte, who happened to be in the room--she had come round to
borrow the Rev. Mr. Scoles' last novel, 'Passion and Paregoric', which
was having such a vogue--chimed in.

"I saw Irene yesterday at the Stores; she and Mr. Bosinney were having a
nice little chat in the Groceries."

It was thus, simply, that she recorded a scene which had really made
a deep and complicated impression on her. She had been hurrying to the
silk department of the Church and Commercial Stores--that Institution
than which, with its admirable system, admitting only guaranteed persons
on a basis of payment before delivery, no emporium can be more highly
recommended to Forsytes--to match a piece of prunella silk for her
mother, who was waiting in the carriage outside.

Passing through the Groceries her eye was unpleasantly attracted by the
back view of a very beautiful figure. It was so charmingly proportioned,
so balanced, and so well clothed, that Euphemia's instinctive propriety
was at once alarmed; such figures, she knew, by intuition rather than
experience, were rarely conn