"What's all this about goin'out there?That's not the way to beat those Boers."Francie alone had the hardihood to observe:"What is,then,Uncle Timothy?""All this new-fangled volunteerin'and expense--lettin'money out of the country."Just then Aunt Hester brought in the map,handling it like a baby with eruptions.With the assistance of Euphemia it was laid on the piano,a small Colwood grand,last played on,it was believed,the summer before Aunt Ann died,thirteen years ago.Timothy rose.He walked over to the piano,and stood looking at his map while they all gathered round.
"There you are,"he said;"that's the position up to date;and very poor it is.H'm!""Yes,"said Francie,greatly daring,"but how are you going to alter it,Uncle Timothy,without more men?""Men!"said Timothy;"you don't want men--wastin'the country's money.You want a Napoleon,he'd settle it in a month.""But if you haven't got him,Uncle Timothy?"
"That's their business,"replied Timothy."What have we kept the Army up for--to eat their heads off in time of peace!They ought to be ashamed of themselves,comin'on the country to help them like this!Let every man stick to his business,and we shall get on."And looking round him,he added almost angrily:
"Volunteerin',indeed!Throwin'good money after bad!We must save!Conserve energy that's the only way."And with a prolonged sound,not quite a sniff and not quite a snort,he trod on Euphemia's toe,and went out,leaving a sensation and a faint scent of barley-sugar behind him.
The effect of something said with conviction by one who has evidently made a sacrifice to say it is ever considerable.And the eight Forsytes left behind,all women except young Nicholas,were silent for a moment round the map.Then Francie said: