king at the motley of guests,
'there's a pretty crowd if you like! Imagine yourself in the midst of
that, my dear.'

Gudrun's apprehensive horror of people in the mass unnerved Ursula. 'It
looks rather awful,' she said anxiously.

'And imagine what they'll be like--IMAGINE!' said Gudrun, still in that
unnerving, subdued voice. Yet she advanced determinedly.

'I suppose we can get away from them,' said Ursula anxiously.

'We're in a pretty fix if we can't,' said Gudrun. Her extreme ironic
loathing and apprehension was very trying to Ursula.

'We needn't stay,' she said.

'I certainly shan't stay five minutes among that little lot,' said
Gudrun. They advanced nearer, till they saw policemen at the gates.

'Policemen to keep you in, too!' said Gudrun. 'My word, this is a
beautiful affair.'

'We'd better look after father and mother,' said Ursula anxiously.

'Mother's PERFECTLY capable of getting through this little
celebration,' said Gudrun with some contempt.

But Ursula knew that her father felt uncouth and angry and unhappy, so
she was far from her ease. They waited outside the gate till their
parents came up. The tall, thin man in his crumpled clothes was
unnerved and irritable as a boy, finding himself on the brink of this
social function. He did not feel a gentleman, he did not feel anything
except pure exasperation.

Ursula took her place at his side, they gave their tickets to the
policeman, and passed in on to the grass, four abreast; the tall, hot,
ruddy-dark man with his narrow boyish brow drawn with irritation, the
fresh-faced, easy woman, perfectly collected though her hair was
slipping on one side, then Gudrun, her eyes round and dark and staring,
her full soft face impassive, almost sulky, so that she seemed to be
backing away in antagonism even whilst she was advancing; and then
Ursula, with the odd, brilliant, dazzled look on her face, that always
came when she was in some false situation.

Birkin was the good angel. He came smiling to them with his affected
social grace, that somehow was never QUITE right. But he took off his
hat and smiled at them with a real smile in his eyes, so that Brangwen
cried out heartily in relief:

'How do you do? You're better, are you?'

'Yes, I'm better. How do you do, Mrs Brangwen? I know Gudrun and Ursula
very well.'

His eyes smiled full of natural warmth. He had a soft, flattering
manner with women, particularly with women who were not young.

'Yes,'