t trotting along by her side. And
after tea, which was a large confused affair, enlivened by wonderful and
entirely untruthful reminiscences of the afternoon by Mr. Raeburn, they
played again, with fewer inefficients and greater skill and swiftness,
and Mr. Direck did such quick and intelligent things that everybody
declared that he was a hockey player straight from heaven. The dusk,
which at last made the position of the ball too speculative for play,
came all too soon for him. He had played in six games, and he knew he
would be as stiff as a Dutch doll in the morning. But he was very, very
happy.

The rest of the Sunday evening was essentially a sequel to the hockey.

Mr. Direck changed again, and after using some embrocation that Mrs.
Britling recommended very strongly, came down in a black jacket and a
cheerfully ample black tie. He had a sense of physical well-being such
as he had not experienced since he came aboard the liner at New York.
The curious thing was that it was not quite the same sense of physical
well-being that one had in America. That is bright and clear and a
little dry, this was--humid. His mind quivered contentedly, like sunset
midges over a lake--it had no hard bright flashes--and his body wanted
to sit about. His sense of intimacy with Cecily increased each time he
looked at her. When she met his eyes she smiled. He'd caught her style
now, he felt; he attempted no more compliments and was frankly her
pupil at hockey and Badminton. After supper Mr. Britling renewed his
suggestion of an automobile excursion on the Monday.

"There's nothing to take you back to London," said Mr. Britling, "and we
could just hunt about the district with the little old car and see
everything you want to see...."

Mr. Direck did not hesitate three seconds. He thought of Gladys; he
thought of Miss Cecily Corner.

"Well, indeed," he said, "if it isn't burthening you, if I'm not being
any sort of inconvenience here for another night, I'd be really very
glad indeed of the opportunity of going around and seeing all these
ancient places...."

Section 6

The newspapers came next morning at nine, and were full of the Sarajevo
Murders. Mr. Direck got the _Daily Chronicle_ and found quite animated
headlines for a British paper.

"Who's this Archduke," he asked, "anyhow? And where is this Bosnia? I
thought it was a part of Turkey."

"It's in Austria," said Teddy.

"It's in the middle ages," said Mr. Britling. "What