Forsyte 'Change, a shiver had gone round the clan. Out of his estate
(L145,304 gross, with liabilities L35 7s. 4d.) he had actually left
L15,000 to "whomever do you think, my dear? To Irene!" that runaway
wife of his nephew Soames; Irene, a woman who had almost disgraced the
family, and--still more amazing was to him no blood relation. Not out
and out, of course; only a life interest--only the income from it!
Still, there it was; and old Jolyon's claim to be the perfect Forsyte
was ended once for all. That, then, was the first reason why the burial
of Susan Hayman--at Woking--made little stir.

The second reason was altogether more expansive and imperial. Besides
the house on Campden Hill, Susan had a place (left her by Hayman when he
died) just over the border in Hants, where the Hayman boys had learned
to be such good shots and riders, as it was believed, which was of
course nice for them, and creditable to everybody; and the fact of
owning something really countrified seemed somehow to excuse the
dispersion of her remains--though what could have put cremation into
her head they could not think! The usual invitations, however, had been
issued, and Soames had gone down and young Nicholas, and the Will had
been quite satisfactory so far as it went, for she had only had a life
interest; and everything had gone quite smoothly to the children in
equal shares.

The third reason why Susan's burial made little stir was the most
expansive of all. It was summed up daringly by Euphemia, the pale, the
thin: "Well, I think people have a right to their own bodies, even when
they're dead." Coming from a daughter of Nicholas, a Liberal of the
old school and most tyrannical, it was a startling remark--showing in a
flash what a lot of water had run under bridges since the death of Aunt
Ann in '86, just when the proprietorship of Soames over his wife's body