He was believed to have a bedroom at the back.

As far as the family had been able to ascertain his income, it consisted of two consulting appointments at twenty pounds a year, together with an odd fee once in a way, and—­more worthy item—­a private annuity under his father’s will of one hundred and fifty pounds a year.

What had transpired concerning that father was not so reassuring.  It appeared that he had been a Lincolnshire country doctor of Cornish extraction, striking appearance, and Byronic tendencies—­a well-known figure, in fact, in his county.  Bosinney’s uncle by marriage, Baynes, of Baynes and Bildeboy, a Forsyte in instincts if not in name, had but little that was worthy to relate of his brother-in-law.

“An odd fellow!’ he would say:  ’always spoke of his three eldest boys as ‘good creatures, but so dull’; they’re all doing capitally in the Indian Civil!  Philip was the only one he liked.  I’ve heard him talk in the queerest way; he once said to me:  ’My dear fellow, never let your poor wife know what you’re thinking of!  But I didn’t follow his advice; not I!  An eccentric man!  He would say to Phil:  ’Whether you live like a gentleman or not, my boy, be sure you die like one! and he had himself embalmed in a frock coat suit, with a satin cravat and a diamond pin.  Oh, quite an original, I can assure you!”

Of Bosinney himself Baynes would speak warmly, with a certain compassion:  “He’s got a streak of his father’s Byronism.  Why, look at the way he threw up his chances when he left my office; going off like that for six months with a knapsack, and all for what?—­to study foreign architecture—­foreign!  What could he expect?  And there he is—­a clever 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.