CHAPTER VII

DARTIE VERSUS DARTIE

The suit—­Dartie versus Dartie—­for restitution of those conjugal rights concerning which Winifred was at heart so deeply undecided, followed the laws of subtraction towards day of judgment.  This was not reached before the Courts rose for Christmas, but the case was third on the list when they sat again.  Winifred spent the Christmas holidays a thought more fashionably than usual, with the matter locked up in her low-cut bosom.  James was particularly liberal to her that Christmas, expressing thereby his sympathy, and relief, at the approaching dissolution of her marriage with that ‘precious rascal,’ which his old heart felt but his old lips could not utter.

The disappearance of Dartie made the fall in Consols a comparatively small matter; and as to the scandal—­the real animus he felt against that fellow, and the increasing lead which property was attaining over reputation in a true Forsyte about to leave this world, served to drug a mind from which all allusions to the matter (except his own) were studiously kept.  What worried him as a lawyer and a parent was the fear that Dartie might suddenly turn up and obey the Order of the Court when made.  That would be a pretty how-de-do!  The fear preyed on him in fact so much that, in presenting Winifred with a large Christmas cheque, he said:  “It’s chiefly for that chap out there; to keep him from coming back.”  It was, of course, to pitch away good money, but all in the nature of insurance against that bankruptcy which would no longer hang over him if only the divorce went through; and he questioned Winifred rigorously until she could assure him that the money had been sent.  Poor woman!—­it cost her many a pang to send what must find its way into the vanity-bag of ‘that creature!’ Soames, hearing of it, shook his head.  They were not dealing with a Forsyte, reasonably tenacious of his purpose.  It was very risky without knowing how the land lay out there.  Still, it would look well with the Court; and he would see that Dreamer brought it out.  “I wonder,” he said suddenly, “where that ballet goes after the Argentine”; never omitting a chance of reminder; for he knew that Winifred still had a weakness, if not for Dartie, at least for not laundering him in public.  Though not good at showing admiration, he admitted that she was behaving extremely well, with all her children at home gaping like young birds for news of their father—­Imogen just on the point of coming out, and Val very restive about the whole thing.  He felt that Val was the real heart of the matter to Winifred, who certainly loved him beyond her other children.  The boy could spoke the wheel of this divorce yet if he set his mind to it.  And Soames was very careful to keep the proximity of the preliminary proceedings from his nephew’s ears.  He did more.  He asked him to dine at the Remove, and over Val’s cigar introduced the subject which he knew to be nearest to his heart.