Mr. Britling Sees It Through | Page 9

her at
first--somehow familiar to him; there was a large irrelevant
middle-aged lady in black with a gold chain and a large nose, between
Teddy and the tutor; there was a tall middle-aged man with an
intelligent face, who might be a casual guest; there was an Indian
young gentleman faultlessly dressed up to his brown soft linen collar
and cuffs, and thereafter an uncontrolled outbreak of fine bronze
modelling and abundant fuzzy hair; and there was a very erect and
attentive baby of a year or less, sitting up in a perambulator and
gesticulating cheerfully to everybody. This baby it was that most
troubled the orderly mind of Mr. Direck. The research for its paternity
made his conversation with Mrs. Britling almost as disconnected and
absent-minded as her conversation with him. It almost certainly wasn't
Mrs. Britling's. The girl next to him or the girl next to Mr. Britling or
the lady in black might any of them be married, but if so where was the
spouse? It seemed improbable that they would wheel out a foundling to
lunch....
Realising at last that the problem of relationship must be left to solve

itself if he did not want to dissipate and consume his mind entirely, Mr.
Direck turned to his hostess, who was enjoying a brief lull in her
administrative duties, and told her what a memorable thing the meeting
of Mr. Britling in his own home would be in his life, and how very
highly America was coming to esteem Mr. Britling and his essays. He
found that with a slight change of person, one of his premeditated
openings was entirely serviceable here. And he went on to observe that
it was novel and entertaining to find Mr. Britling driving his own
automobile and to note that it was an automobile of American
manufacture. In America they had standardised and systematised the
making of such things as automobiles to an extent that would, he
thought, be almost startling to Europeans. It was certainly startling to
the European manufacturers. In illustration of that he might tell a little
story of a friend of his called Robinson--a man who curiously enough
in general build and appearance was very reminiscent indeed of Mr.
Britling. He had been telling Mr. Britling as much on his way here
from the station. His friend was concerned with several others in one of
the biggest attacks that had ever been made upon what one might
describe in general terms as the thousand-dollar light automobile
market. What they said practically was this: This market is a jig-saw
puzzle waiting to be put together and made one. We are going to do it.
But that was easier to figure out than to do. At the very outset of this
attack he and his associates found themselves up against an unexpected
and very difficult proposition....
At first Mrs. Britling had listened to Mr. Direck with an almost
undivided attention, but as he had developed his opening the feast upon
the blue linen table had passed on to a fresh phase that demanded more
and more of her directive intelligence. The two little boys appeared
suddenly at her elbows. "Shall we take the plates and get the
strawberries, Mummy?" they asked simultaneously. Then one of the
neat maids in the background had to be called up and instructed in
undertones, and Mr. Direck saw that for the present Robinson's
illuminating experience was not for her ears. A little baffled, but quite
understanding how things were, he turned to his neighbour on his left....
The girl really had an extraordinarily pretty smile, and there was

something in her soft bright brown eye--like the movement of some
quick little bird. And--she was like somebody he knew! Indeed she was.
She was quite ready to be spoken to.
"I was telling Mrs. Britling," said Mr. Direck, "what a very great
privilege I esteem it to meet Mr. Britling in this highly familiar way."
"You've not met him before?"
"I missed him by twenty-four hours when he came through Boston on
the last occasion. Just twenty-four hours. It was a matter of very great
regret to me."
"I wish I'd been paid to travel round the world."
"You must write things like Mr. Britling and then Mr. Kahn will send
you."
"Don't you think if I promised well?"
"You'd have to write some promissory notes, I think--just to convince
him it was all right."
The young lady reflected on Mr. Britling's good fortune.
"He saw India. He saw Japan. He had weeks in Egypt. And he went
right across America."
Mr. Direck had already begun on the liner to adapt himself to the
hopping inconsecutiveness of English conversation. He made now what
he felt was quite a good hop, and he dropped his voice to