The composition of the company was a matter for some perplexity to Mr. Direck.  Mr. and Mrs. Britling were at either end of the table, that was plain enough.  It was also fairly plain that the two barefooted boys were little Britlings.  But beyond this was a cloud of uncertainty.  There was a youth of perhaps seventeen, much darker than Britling but with nose and freckles rather like his, who might be an early son or a stepson; he was shock-headed and with that look about his arms and legs that suggests overnight growth; and there was an unmistakable young German, very pink, with close-cropped fair hair, glasses and a panama hat, who was probably the tutor of the younger boys. (Mr. Direck also was wearing his hat, his mind had been filled with an exaggerated idea of the treacheries of the English climate before he left New York.  Every one else was hatless.) Finally, before one reached the limits of the explicable there was a pleasant young man with a lot of dark hair and very fine dark blue eyes, whom everybody called “Teddy.”  For him, Mr. Direck hazarded “secretary.”

But in addition to these normal and understandable presences, there was an entirely mysterious pretty young woman in blue linen who sat and smiled next to Mr. Britling, and there was a rather kindred-looking girl with darker hair on the right of Mr. Direck who impressed him at the very outset as being still prettier, and—­he didn’t quite place 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