, ready to your hand«; exclaimed Sir
Lukin; »and a confounded Radicalized country ...« he muttered gloomily of »lets
us be kicked! ... any amount of insult, meek as gruel! ... making of the finest
army the world has ever seen! You saw the papers this morning? Good heaven! how
a nation with an atom of self-respect can go on standing that sort of bullying
from foreigners! We do. We 're insulted and we 're threatened, and we call for a
hymn! - Now then, my man, what is it?«
    The boy had flown back. »Ninety-two marked, sir; ninety-nine runs; one more
for the hundred.«
    »Well reckoned; and mind you 're up at Copsley for the return match. - And
Tom Redworth says, they may bite their thumbs to the bone - they don't hurt us.
I tell him, he has no sense of national pride. He says, we 're not prepared for
war. We never are! And whose the fault? Says, we 're a peaceful people, but
'ware who touches us! He doesn't feel a kick. - Oh! clever snick! Hurrah for the
hundred! - Two - three. No, don't force the running, you fools! - though they
're wild with the ball: ha! - no! - all right!« The wicket stood. Hurrah!
    The heat of the noonday sun compelled the ladies to drive on.
    »Enthusiasm has the privilege of not knowing monotony,« said Emma. »He looks
well in flannels.«
    »Yes, he does,« Diana replied, aware of the reddening despite her having
spoken so simply. »I think the chief advantage men have over us is in their
amusements.«
    »Their recreations.«
    »That is the better word.« Diana fanned her cheeks and said she was warm. »I
mean, the permanent advantage. For you see that age does not affect them.«
    »Tom Redworth is not a patriarch, my dear.«
    »Well, he is what would be called mature.«
    »He can't be more than thirty-two or three; and that, for a man of his
constitution, means youth.«
    »Well, I can imagine him a patriarch playing cricket.«
    »I should imagine you imagine the possible chances. He is the father who
would play with his boys.«
    »And lock up