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Updated: June 22, 2025
She was embarrassed when he got down one or two little presents of chocolates and flowers for her from London the Britling boys were much more appreciative she wouldn't let him contrive costly little expeditions for her, and she protested against compliments and declared she would stay away when he paid them.
And Lady Homartyn, seeing that the phase of mere personal verdicts drew near, created a diversion by giving Lady Frensham a second cup of tea, and fluttering like a cooling fan about the heated brows of the disputants. She suggested tennis.... Section 5 Mr. Britling was still flushed and ruffled as he and his guest returned towards the Dower House.
Britling had ever seen; her large triumphant profile came out of them like the head of a vulture out of its ruff; her elder brother was a wounded prisoner in Germany, her second was dead; it would seem that hers were the only sacrifices the war had yet extorted from any one. She spoke as though it gave her the sole right to criticise the war or claim compensation for the war.
Britling, and in his zeal to tell it he did not at once discover that though Mr. Britling knew French quite well he did not know it very rapidly. The dinner that night at the Dower House marked a distinct fresh step in the approach of the Great War to the old habits and securities of Matching's Easy.
Britling were far more drastic than anything he was yet able to imagine even in his most exalted moods. He resisted the intimations of the fall of Brussels and the appearance of the Germans at Dinant. The first real check to his excessive anticipations of victory for the Allies came with the sudden reappearance of Mr. Direck in a state of astonishment and dismay at Matching's Easy.
It was a square-looking old red-brick house he had come to, very handsome in a simple Georgian fashion, with a broad lawn before it and great blue cedar trees, and a drive that came frankly up to the front door and then went off with Mr. Britling and the car round to unknown regions at the back.
In Matching's Easy, as Mr. Britling presently explained to Mr. Direck, there are half-a-dozen old people who have never set eyes on London in their lives and do not want to. "Aye-ya!" "Fussin' about thea." "Mr. Robinson, 'e went to Lon', 'e did. That's 'ow 'e 'urt 'is fut." Mr.
Harrowdean had a nimble pen and nimbler afterthoughts, and once her mind had got to work upon the topic she developed her offensive in half-a-dozen brilliant letters.... On the other hand she professed a steadily increasing passion for Mr. Britling. And to profess passion for Mr. Britling was to put him under a sense of profound obligation because indeed he was a modest man.
Tens of thousands of middle-class men have ruined themselves and flung away every prospect they had in the world to go to this war." "And scores of thousands haven't!" said Lady Frensham. "They are the men I'm thinking of."... Mr. Britling ran through a little list of aristocratic stay-at-homes that began with a duke. "And not a soul speaks to them in consequence," she said.
He imagined a shattered Zeppelin staggering earthward in the fields behind the Dower House, and how he would himself run out with a spade and smite the Germans down. "Quarter indeed! Kamerad! Take that, you foul murderer!" In the dim light the sentinel saw the retreating figure of Mr. Britling make an extravagant gesture, and wondered what it might mean. Signalling?
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