Mr. Britling, to whom the explosion was altogether inaudible, continued his dissertation upon the common-sense of the world and the practical security of our Western peace.

Section 3

Lunch was an open-air feast again.  Three visitors had dropped in; they had motored down from London piled up on a motor-cycle and a side-car; a brother and two sisters they seemed to be, and they had apparently reduced hilariousness to a principle.  The rumours of coming hockey that had been floating on the outskirts of Mr. Direck’s consciousness ever since his arrival, thickened and multiplied....  It crept into his mind that he was expected to play....

He decided he would not play.  He took various people into his confidence.  He told Mr. Britling, and Mr. Britling said, “We’ll make you full back, where you’ll get a hit now and then and not have very much to do.  All you have to remember is to hit with the flat side of your stick and not raise it above your shoulders.”  He told Teddy, and Teddy said, “I strongly advise you to dress as thinly as you can consistently with decency, and put your collar and tie in your pocket before the game begins.  Hockey is properly a winter game.”  He told the maiden aunt-like lady with the prominent nose, and she said almost enviously, “Every one here is asked to play except me.  I assuage the perambulator.  I suppose one mustn’t be envious.  I don’t see why I shouldn’t play.  I’m not so old as all that.”  He told Hugh, and Hugh warned him to be careful not to get hold of one of the sprung sticks.  He considered whether it wouldn’t be wiser to go to his own room and lock himself in, or stroll off for a walk through Claverings Park.  But then he would miss Miss Corner, who was certain, it seemed, to come up for hockey.  On the other hand, if he did not miss her he might make himself ridiculous in her eyes, and efface the effect of the green silk stuff with the golden pheasants.

He determined to stay behind until she arrived, and explain to her that he was not going to play.  He didn’t somehow want her to think he wasn’t perfectly fit to play.

Mr. Carmine arrived in an automobile with two Indians and a gentleman who had been a prospector in Alaska, the family who had danced overnight at the Dower House reappeared, and then Mrs. Teddy, very detached with a special hockey stick, and Miss Corner wheeling the perambulator.  Then came further arrivals.  At the earliest opportunity Mr. Direck secured the attention of Miss Corner, and lost his interest in any one else.

“I can’t play this hockey,” said Mr. Direck.  “I feel strange about it.  It isn’t an American game.  Now if it were baseball—!”

He left her to suppose him uncommonly hot stuff at baseball.

“If you’re on my side,” said Cecily, “mind you pass to me.”

It became evident to Mr. Direck that he was going to play this hockey after all.