Chapter 3 Chapter 3 The Dinner Party at the Sweetsings

The orange and pale blue dining-room of Swieting looked out on Hyde Park; the round table in the dining-room was set for twelve. In the middle of the room hung a framed glass lamp, filled with candles, hanging down like a huge stalactite; the large gold-rimmed full-length mirror in the room, the marble surface on the coffee table and the gold chair with heavy woven flower cushions were all Is brightly lit.Any such family who managed to sneak into high society from a remote corner of the country did not have a deep love for art; therefore everything here expresses this love.Si Yuexin just can't bear simplicity and simplicity, but just likes splendor and splendor, which makes him recognized as a great connoisseur among a group of friends, just a little too luxurious.Anyone who entered his room saw at once that he was a rich man; and knowing it himself, he was all the more contented; never in his life was he more contented than the present situation.

He used to manage real estate for other people; he has always looked down on this profession, especially the real estate auction department; since he retired, he has devoted himself to these aristocratic things, which is also very natural for him. The sheer sumptuous life he led in his later years made him fall like a fly in a sugar bowl; his mind was occupied with nothing from morning to night, so that it was just the junction of two extreme opposite feelings: one was The sense of self-satisfaction, the feeling that you have built a family business, is a persistent and tenacious feeling; the other is that you feel that you are so superior that you should not allow your work to stain your soul at all.

Today he stood by the sideboard in a white waistcoat with large buttons of gold and white onyx, watching the footman force the necks of three bottles of champagne into the ice bucket.The sharp corners of the collar made him sting when he moved, but he would not change it; under the collar, the white flesh of his chin protruded and remained motionless.His eyes went from bottle to bottle; he debated in himself; and this was what he told himself: Jolyon would have a drink, or two, he was very self-serving.James, he's been out of drink lately.What about Nicholas - Fanny and he will hold water for sure!Soames did not count; these young nephews--Soames was thirty-eight years--couldn't drink yet!But what about Bosinney?The stranger was a little out of his philosophical sphere, so Swiesin hesitated at the name.He is worried!It's hard to say!Joan was just a girl, and in love!Emily (Mrs. James) likes a good glass of champagne.Poor old Julie would think it dull, for she doesn't know wine.As for Heidi Chasman!

The thought of this old friend set off a series of thoughts in him that made his clear eyes a little clouded: she must drink half the bottle! Thinking of the remaining guest, Sweatsing's aged face could not help showing the look of a cat before a mouse.Mrs. Soames!She may not drink much, but she will appreciate it; it's a pleasure to give her a good drink!A beauty--and with affection for him! Thinking of her was like thinking of champagne!It was a pleasure to give her a good drink, and such a young woman, who is pretty, and knows how to dress, and has such a charming manner, is excellent--it was a pleasure to entertain her.His head twisted painfully between the corners of his stiff collar, for the first time this evening.

"Adolph!" he said. "Put another bottle in." He probably drank a lot himself; thanks to Dr. Brett's prescription, he felt very well; and he took care of himself and never ate his lunch.He hadn't felt this good in weeks.He pouted his lower lip for a final instruction. "Adolfo, the ham can only be served with a little less West Indian juice." He went into the outer room, sat down on the edge of a chair, and spread his knees; the tall, fat figure immediately became immobile, with an air of hope, strange and innocent.As long as someone came to let him know, he would stand up immediately.He hasn't invited anyone to dinner for several months.The engagement dinner in celebration of Joan's engagement seemed a headache at first (the custom of offering the engagement wine was religious at the Forsyte's), but his exhilaration returned once the drudgery of posting the invitations and ordering the food was over. caused.

So he sat with a thick, shiny gold watch in his hand like a squashed ball of butter, thinking of nothing. In came a tall, whiskered man, who had been Slesing's valet, but now kept a greengrocer; and said aloud: "Mrs. Chaseman, Mrs. Shiptimus Small!" Two ladies came in.The one in the front was covered in red, with two equally red cheeks, and a pair of stern and piercing eyes.She came up to Sweatsin, and held out a hand in a long pale yellow glove: "Oh, Sweetsin," she said, "it's been a long time. How are you? Why, my dear boy, how fat you are!" Slesing's eyes fixed her hard once, and that was the only look that revealed his feelings.A nameless rage welled up in him.He looks fat and vulgar, and talking about fat is vulgar; he just has a wider chest.He turned to his older sister, took her hand, and said commandingly, "Well, Julie."

Mrs. Shiptimus Small was the tallest of the four sisters; a kind but old round face had become a little gloomy; It was like wearing a wire mask all the time, but it was suddenly taken off that night, leaving little bumps of resistance all over the face.Even her eyes seemed to pop out.It was in this way that she commemorated the long regret of Shiptimus Small's death. She is famous for making troubles when she speaks; she is as tough as her family, she will stick to her words after making troubles, and she will continue to talk and make troubles again, so she will go on like this.After the death of her husband, this blood resilience and pragmatism gradually became barren.She was a talker, and if she was given the opportunity to talk, she could go on for hours without excitement, in the monotony of an epic, recounting instances of fate's mistreatment of her; Her sympathy is on the side of fate, because her heart is kind!

It had become a habit for this poor soul to sit for so long beside Smuel's sickbed (a man of infirm constitution); She could never shake off the feeling that the world was indeed a most ungrateful place to live in.She was most influenced by the very funny Reverend Tom Scholl, whom she sat on Sundays under the altar and listened to him all the year round; It was a misfortune, and people believed her.She had become such a talking point among the Forsytes that anyone who seemed particularly troublesome was considered "proper Jolie."A man of her mood, had it not been for the name Forsyte, would have died at forty; but she lived to seventy-two, and never looked better.She was given the impression that she had a talent for self-enjoyment which had not yet been fully developed.She kept three canaries, a cat named Tommy, and half a parrot--because she had raised them with her sister Hester; Don't let Timothy run into her) are different from others, and they can't blame her if they think she is unlucky, so they all have a hot fight with her.

Tonight she was wearing a black-striped kiwi, with a green lotus-colored front cut into a shallow triangular collar, and a black velvet belt tied under the thin throat. Although the color of this outfit was a bit darker, But very luxurious.Black and turquoise at night are colors that every Forsyte would consider calm. She pouted to Swiesin and said: "Sister An asked about you. You haven't seen us for a long time!" With two thumbs stuck into the sides of the waistcoat, Slesing replied: "Sister An is too long; she should see a doctor!" "Mr. and Mrs. Nicola Forsyte!"

Nicholas Forsyte wore rectangular eyebrows and smiled.He had planned to hire a tribe from the high mountains of India to open the gold mines in Ceylon, and this day he managed to get it done. It was a project of which he was very proud, and which was at last resolved against many of the serious difficulties of the present - and he was certainly pleased.This will double the output.He himself often argued with people that all experience proved that man was bound to die; that it certainly did not matter that he died of old age and poverty in his own country, or that he died young in the damp under a foreign mine, so long as he changed his life in this way. Just do it in a way that favors the British Empire.

His talent is beyond doubt.He raised his flat nose to the other, and continued: "We haven't paid a dividend for years for want of a few hundred of these fellows; look at the price of the stock; I'll sell it for ten shillings in a jiffy." He also went to Yarmouth to recuperate, and came back feeling at least ten years younger.He grabbed S Yuexin's hand and shouted eagerly: "Ah, we meet again!" Mrs. Nicholas, a haggard woman, followed him with a wry smile, half pleased and half frightened. "Mr. James Forsythe, ma'am! Mr. Soames Forsythe, ma'am!" Slesing put his heels together in a manner that looked even more dignified. "Oh, James, oh, Emily! How are you, Soames? How are you?" He held Irene's hand, how wide his eyes were.She was a beautiful woman--a little pale, but what a waist, eyes, and teeth!What a fellow Soames! God gave Irene a pair of dark brown eyes and blond hair; this strange combination most attracts men's eyes, and is said to be a sign of weak will.She wore a golden gown, showing her full neck and shoulders, and her complexion was soft and pale, which gave her a particularly charming appearance. Soames stood back with his eyes fixed on his wife's neck.Slesing still held the watch in his hand, and it passed eight o'clock; dinner was half an hour late—he hadn't had lunch yet—and a nameless, primal anxiety arose in him. "Jolyon won't be late!" he told Irene, unable to contain his anger. "I think it was Joan who delayed him." "People who are in love are always late," she replied. Si Yuexin stared at her, her cheeks turned dark orange. "There's no reason for them to be late. Boring hipster stuff!" Behind this fit, the unutterable rage of the primal ancestors seemed to murmur. "Do you think this new star I bought is good, Uncle Swiesin," Irene said softly. In the middle of the lace on the chest of her dress, there really shines a five-pointed star, which is set with eleven diamonds. Si Yuexin looked at the star.He was originally fond of gems.Nothing could be more thoughtful to distract him than to ask his opinion on gems. "Who gave it to you?" he asked. "Soames." Her complexion did not change at all, but Syusein's pale yellow eyes were wide open, as if enlightened. "I bet you're bored at home," he said. "Come to supper any day you like, and I'll treat you to the best wine in London." "Miss Joan Forsyte—Mr. Jolyon Forsyte! Mr. Poe—Sweeney!" Slesing waved his arms and muttered in his throat: "It's supper—dinner!" He took Erin with him because he hadn't invited her since she passed the door.Joan sat with Bosinney, of course, and Bosinney sat between Irene and his fiancée.On Joan's other side were James and Mrs. Nicholas, beyond that old Jolyon and Mrs. James, Nicholas and Heidi Chasman, Soames and Mrs. Small, and so on Form a circle on the Sweatsin. Forsyte's family dinners observe certain traditions.For example, there are no cold basins.Why no cold basin is prepared, no one knows.People of the younger generation guessed that it was probably because the price of raw oysters was too expensive; it is more likely that because it was so straightforward, most of the cold bowls had nothing to eat, so they simply gave up for the benefit of the stomach.Only the James and Mrs. were sometimes not faithful to the tradition, for cold tubs had become almost universal around Park Lane, and it was hard for them to resist. After being seated, there followed a mutual, wordless indifference, almost annoyed; interspersed with words of this sort: "Tom's sick again; I don't know why he is!"—"I want Ann Sister doesn't come downstairs in the morning?"—"Fannie, what's your doctor's name? Stiles? A quack!"—"Winifred? She has too many children. Four One, isn't she? She's as thin as a stick!"—"Sweetshin, what's the price of your sherry? I think it's bland!" Until the first course, it was so dull. After the second glass of champagne was poured, there was a humming at the table; remove the incidental noise from this humming, and you found that its main component was James telling a story; the story was told for a long time, He took up part of the time even after the lamb blades were served—a dish that was the accepted starter at Forsyte's dinner parties. There was no Forsytes dinner without lamb blades.The mutton scapula is tasty and chewy, which is especially suitable for people of "considerable status".It's nutritious and -- delicious; just the kind of thing you eat and forget.It has a past and a future like a deposit in a bank; it's a debatable dish. As to where the mutton is best, each house of the Forsyte will have its own opinion,--Old Jolyon insists Dartmoor is good, James says Wells is good, Swedesing says Shasdowne Well, Nicholas said that others might dismiss it, but there is nowhere near New Zealand.Roger, being an "inventionist" among his brethren, was compelled to invent a region of his own; he was worthy of being the man who could conceive of a new occupation for his son, and be caught by his whims. Found a shop selling German mutton; they said he was talking nonsense, and he produced a butcher's bill, which charged a higher price than any other, and confirmed his story. Old Jolyon, on the occasion of such an argument, once laid out his philosophy to Joan: "It is true that the Forsytes are nuts—you'll understand when you're older!" Timothy was the only one who did not enter into the argument, because, though he ate lamb blades with relish, he ate them with, according to his own account, a lot of anxiety. To whoever is interested in the psychology of the Forsyte family, this great mutton taste will be of paramount importance; a taste which speaks not only of the resilience of the family, both collective and individual, but marks They belong to the great realistic class in character and instinct, they only believe in nutrition and taste, and never envy any beautiful appearance emotionally. Of course, among the younger generation of the clan, some of them would not like to eat large pieces of meat; they would prefer a guinea fowl, or lobster salad—some dishes that look beautiful but are less nutritious—but these are not the same. They are women; or, even if they are not women, they are spoiled by their wives or mothers; those wives or mothers are forced to eat lamb blades all the time after they get married, so they secretly hate lamb blades, so in The son's character was also infected with this kind of hatred. After the great controversy over the mutton blades came the ham of Tucksbury, with a dash of West Indian juice—and so long did Les Yuesins linger, even supper was hampered.In order to deal with this dish with all his energy, he even stopped talking. Soames watched intently from his seat next to Mrs. Small's.He had his own selfish desire to observe Bosinney, which had something to do with a beloved architectural project.The architect might be of use to him; you see him leaning back in his chair, muffled to form a wall of bread crumbs, with a sort of cleverness.Soames saw that his dress was a good shape, but too small, as if it had been made many years ago. He saw Bosinney turn to Irene for a few words, and Irene's face brightened; it was an expression he had seen her use with many people in the past, but not with him.He wanted to hear what the two had to say, but Aunt Jolie was talking to him. Doesn't this incident seem extraordinary to Soames?It was only last Sunday that dear Mr. Schauer had said so coldly and ironically in his sermon: "'A man who saves his own soul,' he said, 'loses all he has. What good is it to him?'" said Schauer, which was the motto of the middle classes; what do you mean by that?Of course, this might refer to the beliefs of the middle classes—she did not know; what did Soames think? Soames answered her absent-mindedly: "How should I know? But Schauer is a liar, isn't he?" Bosinney was now looking over the table, as if pointing out some of the guests. In particular, Soames could not understand what he was talking about.From Irene's smile it was obvious that she agreed with him.She always seemed to agree with other people's opinions. Her eyes turned to him now, and Soames dropped his eyes at once.The smile disappeared from her lips. a liar?What did Soames mean by that?If Mr. Schauer, a clergyman, would be a liar—and anyone could be a liar—what a shame! "Well, they are all liars!" said Soames. Aunt Qiu Li was stunned by his words for a long time, and then he heard a fragment of Erin's conversation, which sounded like: "Whoever enters this door will perish forever!" But Slesing had finished the ham. "Where do you buy your mushrooms?" he asked Irene, in a courtly voice; "you should go to Sniley's—he'll get you fresh ones. These little shops, they Always afraid of trouble!" Irene turned to answer, when Soames saw Bosinney smiling alone, looking at her.This guy has such a weird smile.A kind of half-goofy air, like a child laughing when he's happy.Thinking of the nickname George had given him—"Pirate"—it didn't make much sense to him.Seeing Bosinney turn to talk to Joan, Soames smiled too, but sarcastically--he didn't like Joan, and Joan was not looking very pretty at the moment. This is not surprising, it turns out that Joan and James were having the following conversation just now: "On my way back, I stayed overnight on the river. Grandpa James saw a place where a house happened to be built." James had always eaten so slowly and carefully that he had to stop chewing. "Huh?" he said. "Where is that place?" "Near Pangbon." James put a piece of ham into his mouth, and Joan had to wait. "I don't think you'll know if that land is freehold!" he said at last. "I don't even know the land price over there!" "I know," Joan said. "I've asked." The determined little face under her brass-colored hair was anxious and excited, almost suspicious. James looked at her like a prosecutor. "What? Do you want to buy land!" He called out, putting down the fork in his hand at the same time. Joan took courage when she saw that he was interested.She had always had a selfish plan to encourage her uncles to build a villa in the country, which would be good for themselves and Bosinney. "Of course not," she said. "I think it would be great for you or - whoever builds a villa in this place!" James looked at her sideways, and put another piece of ham into his mouth. "Land over there should be very expensive," he said. Joan hadn't been interested in being James, but he was not; he felt, like all the Forsytes, a superficial excitement at hearing that something desired might end up in another's mouth.But Joan, determined not to miss the moment, went on with her reasons: "You ought to live in the country, Grandpa James. I hope to have a lot of money, and I shall not live more than a day in London." James' slender man was deeply moved. He didn't expect his grandniece to be so straightforward. "Why don't you go to the country!" Joan added: "It will do you a lot of good!" "Why?" James said in a panic. "Buying land - buying land, building a house, what do you think is good for me? I can't even get four cents for the capital I invested!" "What does that matter? You get some fresh air." "Fresh air," cried James; "what do I want fresh air—" "I think everybody likes fresh air," said Joan contemptuously. James wiped his entire mouth with a napkin. "You don't know the value of money," he said, avoiding her eyes. "I don't understand! And I hope I never understand!" Poor Joan bit her lip with nameless frustration, and said no more. Why was it that her own relatives were so rich, and Philip couldn't even be sure where the money for tomorrow's tobacco would come from?Why couldn't her relatives help him a little?But they are so selfish.Why didn't they build a villa?Her head was full of naive dogma, which was pathetic, but sometimes very fruitful.Frustrated, she turned to look at Bosinney, saw that he was talking with Irene, and couldn't help but feel cold.Her eyes were staring with anger, like old Jolyon's eyes in frustration. James was also very unhappy.He felt as if someone was threatening his right to invest five per cent.Jolyon spoiled her badly.None of his own daughters would have said that.James had been generous to his children, and he knew it, which made him feel even more unhappy.Glumly, he tossed the plate of strawberries in front of him, poured a lot of cream, and ate them; at least they must not be missed. It's no wonder he's unhappy.For fifty-four years (he has been a lawyer from the earliest legal age allowed by law) he has made mortgages on real estate, keeping the interest on funds at a high but safe level forever, and all negotiations are from a Starting from the principle, he must try his best to squeeze the other party, but also take care of his customers and himself from risk; all his contacts are calculated with money, and the thickness of the friendship is determined according to the possibility; how can he not finally Become only money?Money is now his light, his eyes; without money, he can honestly see nothing, honestly can't distinguish any phenomena; now someone says to him in front of him, "I hope I will never understand money." value", which embarrassed and annoyed him.He knew it was unreasonable, otherwise he would panic.What will the world be like?However, suddenly he remembered the matter of little Jolyon, and he felt better, because I was like this, how could my daughter change!But this led his mind to another, more unpleasant aspect.What was the matter with all this gossip about Soames and Irene? Like all families who cherish their reputation, the Forsytes had a business center, where all family secrets were exchanged, and where all family stocks were valued.The word from the Forsyte Exchange was that Irene regretted the marriage.Of course, no one would approve of her.She should have known whether she wanted to marry or not; a steady woman is rarely so confused. James mused wistfully: the couple had a nice house (slightly smaller), prime location, no kids, and no financial difficulties.Soames hesitated to talk about his situation, but he must have done well.It turned out that Soames, like his father, was a lawyer, in that well-known firm of Forsyth, Burst, Forsyte;Not only that, among the real estate mortgage cases he accepted, several of them were exceptionally successful—they canceled the other party’s right of foreclosure in time—equal to winning the first prize! Irene had no reason to be unhappy, but it was said that she had asked to be separated from Soames. James knew what the consequences of this would be.If Soames was a drinker, that would be all right, but he was not a drinker. James looked at his daughter-in-law.His unobserved glance was hard and hesitant; there was entreaty and fear in it, and a personal displeasure.Why should he be so worried?Possibly nonsense; women are just so incomprehensible!At first they said it so vividly that it was not good for you to believe it or not; later, they didn't tell him anything, so he had to go and find out for himself.James stole another glance at Irene, and looked over at Soames from her side.Soames, who was listening to Aunt Jurie, blinked in Bosinney's direction. "He likes her, I know," thought James. "You see he always buys things for her." And it was unreasonable for Irene to always have such a distaste for Soames; thinking about it made her feel very uncomfortable.What's more hateful is that she is such a painful little woman, and he, James, will really like her as long as she is willing to get close to him.She and Joan were getting along very well of late; it wasn't doing her any favors, it certainly wasn't.She gradually became to have her own ideas.He didn't understand why she did it.Isn't it enough that she has a good family and can get what she wants?He felt that her friends should be chosen for her by others, and it was dangerous to go on like this. Indeed, for the unfortunate people, Joan has always supported them, so Irene's mind was finally set out by her; Mies separated.But after listening to her advice, Irene never said a word, just murmured, as if she felt that it would be too much for her to fight so hard.She had told Joan then that he would never let her go. "Who cares about him?" cried Joan; "he'll do what he wants to do—you just have to keep going!" In Musi's ears, he hated and was angry, which is also human nature. What if Irene could think of--he dared not even think--of parting from Soames?But many vague illusions have been awakened, and his ears are noisy, full of people's comments, such an event that everyone has witnessed, so close to him, happened to his son, it is really shameful !Luckily she had no money--fifty pounds a year for a pauper!He thought of the dead Professor Hailong with contempt; after all, he didn't leave her any inheritance.While drinking, he meditated, with his long legs crossed under the counter; when the lady guest left the dining room, he did not get up.He would have to speak to Soames--put him on his guard; they could not go on like this now that they thought that something might happen.He saw that the wine glass left by Joan was still full, and he didn't take it seriously. "It's all this kid's doing it," he thought; "Irene would never have thought of it herself." James was a man of imagination. Slesin's voice roused him from his reverie. "I paid four hundred pounds for it," he was saying. "Certainly a complete work of art." "Four hundred pounds! Humph! A lot of money!" agreed Nicholas. It turned out to be a finely carved Italian marble statue; the statue rested on a high pedestal (also of marble) and diffused an air of culture in the room.Six extremely finely carved caryatids, all nude, point to a central woman, also nude; the central woman also points to herself; expensive.Aunt Juli was sitting almost opposite, and she was always trying to force herself not to look at it that night, but she couldn't. Old Jolyon spoke; he was the one who started the debate. "Four hundred farts! Did you really pay four hundred pounds for this?" For the second time this evening, Slesing's jaw writhed painfully between the corners of his stiff collar. "Four-hundred-pounds, English money; a penny is a lot. I don't regret it at all. It's no ordinary English engraving—it's real modern Italian engraving!" Soames turned his lips upward into a smile, and looked in Bosinney's direction.The architect was smoking, grinning through the smoke.Now, indeed, he was a bit of a "pirate." "The work is not small," James said quickly. He was a little impressed when he saw the size of the stone statue. "It will definitely sell for a good price at Jobson's auction house." "The wretched foreign devil who carved this statue," went on Sweesin, "asked me for five hundred pounds--I'll give him four hundred. It's worth eight hundred. Looks like he's starving, that fellow!" "Ah!" Nicholas suddenly echoed, "these are poor wretched fellows, the artists; I don't know how they live. People like little Fragio Aleti, Fanny and the girls." He used to have the fiddler in the house; he'd make a hundred pounds a year, and that's pretty good!" James shook his head. "Ah!" said he, "I don't know how they live!" Old Jolyon had stood up now, and with a cigar in his mouth, he leaned closer to have a closer look at the stone statue. "I won't even give two hundred pounds!" he said at last. Soames saw his father and Nicholas glance anxiously at each other; on the other side of Slesing, Bosinney remained hidden in the smoke. "I don't know what he's thinking!" Soames thought; he was fully aware that these stone statues were hopelessly "outdated" from twenty years ago, and that there was no such work of art for sale in Jobson's house. up. Sweatshin finally answered. "You don't know how to carve. You just have your pictures!" Old Jolyon returned to his seat, still smoking his cigar.It ain't worth getting involved in an argument with a stubborn bastard like Slesing, with a mule's head, who can't tell a stone statue from a—straw hat. "Plaster man!" was all he said. Slesing was too fat to jump, so she just thumped her fist on the table. "Plaster man! I'd like to see what's half as good as this in your house!" After his words, the rough voices of those primitive ancestors seemed to rumble again. It was James who came out to save the situation. "I say, Mr. Bosinney, what do you say? You're an architect; you must be good at statues and all that stuff!" All eyes were on Bosinney; they all waited for his answer with curious doubts. Soames also spoke for the first time. "Yes, Bosinney," he asked, "what do you say?" Bosinney replied flatly: "It's a special piece." His words were addressed to Sweatsin, but his eyes smiled slyly on old Jolyon; only Soames was still dissatisfied. "Where is it in particular?" "Very naive." There was a silence, and it was evident that everyone understood the meaning; only Slesing could not make out whether he meant it as a compliment or not.