They had not gone four miles before Swithin received the impression that Irene liked driving with him. Her face was so soft behind that white veil, and her dark eyes shone so in the spring light, and whenever he spoke she raised them to him and smiled. On Saturday morning Soames had found her at her writing-table with a note written to Swithin, putting him off. Why did she want to put him off? he asked. She might put her own people off when she liked, he would not have her putting off his people! She had looked at him intently, had torn up the note, and said: "Very well!" And then she began writing another. He took a casual glance presently, and saw that it was addressed to Bosinney. "What are you writing to him about?" he asked. Irene, looking at him again with that intent look, said quietly: "Something he wanted me to do for him!" "Humph!" said Soames,--"Commissions!" "You'll have your work cut out if you begin that sort of thing!" He said no more. Swithin opened his eyes at the mention of Robin Hill; it was a long way for his horses, and he always dined at half-past seven, before the rush at the Club began; the new chef took more trouble with an early dinner--a lazy rascal! He would like to have a look at the house, however. A house appealed to any Forsyte, and especially to one who had been an auctioneer. After all he said the distance was nothing. When he was a younger man he had had rooms at Richmond for many years, kept his carriage and pair there, and drove them up and down to business every day of his life. Four-in-hand Forsyte they called him! His T-cart, his horses had been known from Hyde Park Corner to the Star and Garter. The Duke of Z.... wanted to get hold of them, would have given him double the money, but he had kept them; know a good thing when you have it, eh? A look of solemn pride came portentously on his shaven square old face, he rolled his head in his stand-up collar, like a turkey-cock preening himself. She was really--a charming woman! He enlarged upon her frock afterwards to Aunt Juley, who held up her hands at his way of putting it. Fitted her like a skin--tight as a drum; that was how he liked 'em, all of a piece, none of your daverdy, scarecrow women! He gazed at Mrs. Septimus Small, who took after James--long and thin. "There's style about her," he went on, "fit for a king! And she's so quiet with it too!" "She seems to have made quite a conquest of you, any way," drawled Aunt Hester from her corner. Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him. "What's that?" he said. "I know a--pretty--woman when I see one, and all I can say is, I don't see the young man about that's fit for her; but perhaps--you--do, come, perhaps--you-do!" "Oh?" murmured Aunt Hester, "ask Juley!"