Evening Star Newspaper, July 14, 1929, Page 86

v ¥ » s e ; THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. €, JULY 14, 1929-PART 7. 4 Crisis Strikes the Forsytes and a Family - Council Is Defied by Meck Aunt Juley. One of the Unusual Stories by a Master of Fiction. ’ - = RS. SEPTIMUS SMALL, known in the Forsyte family as Aunt Juley, returning from service at St. Barnabas', Bayswater, on a Sunday morning in the Spring of 1878, took by force ¢ .1abit the path into the then somewhat undevelcped Garden of Kensington. While she walked, in violet silk under a black mantle, with very shoré steps—skirts being ex- tremely narrow in that year of grace—she was of dear Hester and what a pity it was she always had such a headache on Sun- mornings—the sermon would have done good! Now that dear Ann was ~L KEE i BiERE ?5E;izé i ¥ g a new kind of dog. And, secing a bench, dog slithered forward, humbly ; ¥ g ?_ ’ g 8 E I dog made a sudden advance, curved Iike a C, all fluttering, and was now almost within reach of her gloved fingers, at which it sniffed. Aunt Juley emitted a purring noise. Pride was filling her heart that, out of all the people it might have taken notice of, she should be the only one. " It had put out its- tongue now, and was panting in the agony of inde- cision. Poor little thing! It clearly didn't Inow whether it dared take another master— not, of course, that she coul i : : i Sir ol A g il glief 2 "E;ir- ) ! fl 1 ; gg iigr i I k H ;2— t " H =§ Esk i g PH it i £ k1 o il {iy H ;- “Ach!” sald Smither. “Paw little thing! =W T grt ronk to nive § sAme foraps, matem2” ¢ had 5 “I had such a pleasant walk in the Gar- dens,” she sald, painfully, “after church.” cult to assimilate Yorkshire pudding, and in- digestion begun. sometimes. She was such a there “That shows you!” said Timothy. Aun that Mr. Gladstone had high principles, and they must not judge him, “Judge him!” said Timothy. “I'd hang him!"” “That’s not quite a nice thing to say on i “Betier the day, better the deed,” muttered Timothy; and Aunt Juley trembled. He was in one of his moods. And, suddenly, she held her breath.. A vapping had impinged on her ears, as if the white dog were taking liberties with cook, Her eyes sought Smither’s face. “What's that?” said Timothy. “A dog?” “There’s a dog just round the corner, at Number Nine,” murmured Aunt Juley; and at the roundness of Smither’s eyes, knew she had prevaricated. What dreadful things happened, if one was not quite frank from the beginning? The yapping broke into a sharp yelp, as if cook bhad taken a liberty in turn. “That's not round the corner,” said Timothy. “It's downstairs. What's all this?” All eyes were turned on Smither, in a dead silence. A sound broke it—the girl had creaked. “Please, :h', it's the little dog that followed in madam in. “Oh!” said Aunt Juley, in haste. “That little " “What's that?” said Timothy. ‘“Pollowed her in?” “It was 30 thin!” said Aunt Juley's faint voice. “Smither,” said Aunt Ann, “hand me the pulled bread, and tell cook I want to see her when she's finished her dinner.” Into Aunt Juley’s pouting face rose a flush, “I take the entire responsibility,” she said. “The little dog was lost. It was hungry and cook has given it some scraps.” “A strange dog,” muttered Timothy, “bring- ing in fleas like that!” “Oh! I think,” murmured Aunt Juley, “it's & well bred little dog.” “How do you know? You don't know a dog from a door mat.” The flush deepened over Aunt Juley's_pouts. “It was a Christian act,” she said, looking Timothy in the eye. “If you had been to church, you wouldn't talk like that.” It was perhaps the first time she had openly bearded her brother. The result was complete. Timothy ate his mince pie hurriedly. “Well, don’t let me see it,” he muttered. “Put the wine and walnuts on the table and go down, Smither,” said Aunt Ann, “and see what cook is doing about it.” When she had gone, there was silence. It was felt that Juley had forgotten herself, AU‘N’T ANN put her wine glass to her lips; it contained two thimblefuls @f brown sherry, & present from dear Jolyon—he had such a palate! Aunt Hester, who, during the excitement, had thoughtfully finished a second mince pie, was smiling. Aunt Juley had her eyes fixed on Timothy: she had tasted of de- flance and it was sweet. Smither returned. “Well, Smither?” “Cook’s washing of it, miss.” “What's she doing that for?” said Timothy. “Because it's dirty,” said Aunt Juley. “There you are.” And the voice of Aunt Ann was heard, say- ing grace. When she had finished, the three sisters rose. “We'll leave you to your wine, dear. Smither, my shawl, please.” Upstairs in the drawimg-room there was grave silence. Aunt Juley was trying to still her fluttering nerves; Aunt Hester trying to pre- tend that nothing had happened; Aunt Ann, upright and a little grim, trying to compress the riot act with her thin and bloodless lips. She was not thinking of herself, but of the im- mutable order of things, so seriously compro- mised. - e ———— — Og at Tim()th ,S By Jokn Galsworthy Aunt Juley repeated suddenly: “He followed me, Ann.” “Without an intro—without your inviting him?” “I spoke to him, because he was lost.” “You should think before you speak. Dogs take advantage.” Aunt Juley's face mutinied. “Well, I'm glad,” she said, “and that's flat. Such a how-de- dow!” Aunt Ann looked pained. A considerable time passed. Aunt Juley began playing solitaire, Aunt Ann sat upright, with her eyes closed; and Aunt Hester, after watching them for some minutes to see if they would open, took from under her cushion a library volume, and, hiding it behind & fire-screen, began to read. It was volume two, and she did not yet know Lady Audley's secret; of course, it was a novel, but as Timethy had said, “Better the day, better the deed.” ‘The clock struck 3. Aunt Ann opened her eyes. Aunt Hester shut her book. Aunt Juley crumpled the solitaire balls together with a clatter. There was a knock on the door, for, not belonging to the upper regions, like Smither, Cook always knocked. “Come in!” Still in her pink print frock, Cook entered, and behind her entered the dog, snowy white, with its eoat all brushed and bushy, its manner and its tail now cocky and now deprecating. It was a moment! Cook spoke: “I've brought it up, miss; it's had its dinner and it's been washed. It's a nice little dear, and taken quite a fancy to me.” The three aunts sat siient. “*Twould 'ave done your 'eart good to see it eat, miss. And it answers to the name of Pom- . “Fancy!” said Aunt Hester, with an effort. She did so hate things to be awkward. Aunt Ann leaned forward; her voice rose firm, if rather quavery. a “it doesn't belong to us, cook; and your master would never permit it. Smither shall go with it to the police station.” g As if struck by the words, the dog emerged from Cook's skirt and approached the veice. It stood in a curve and began to oscillate its tail very slightly; its eyes, like bits of jet, gased up. Aunt Ann looked down at it; her thin, veined hands, as if detached from ber firmness, moved nervously over her glace sRirt. Aunt Juley’s emotion was emerging in ome large pout. Aunt Hester was smiling spasmodi- cally. “Them police stations!” said Cook. “I'm sure it's not been accustomed. It's not as if it had a collar, miss.” “Pommy!” said Juley. The dog turmed at ihe sound, sniffed her knees, and instantly returned to its comtem- plation of Aunt Ann, as though it recognized where power was seated. .. “It's really rather sweet!”" murmured Aunt Hester, and not only the dog looked at Aunt Ann. But, at this moment, the door was again opened. . “Mr. Swithin Porsyte, miss,” .said the ,voice of Smither. o Aunts Juley - and Hester rose to greet their brother; Aunt Ann, privileged by 78. years, res mained seated. The family always went to Aunt Ann, not Aunt Ann to the family, There ‘was & general feeling that dear Swithin had Bt M Le et N A B = a oo 4 ZBn & S8