He found his friend standing in the middle of the room, without coat and waistcoat, with a pair of dumb-bells in his hands. "When there's no hunting I'm driven to this kind of thing," said Lord Chiltern.
"I suppose it's good exercise," said Phineas.
"And it gives me something to do. When I'm in London I feel like a gipsy in church, till the time comes for prowling out at night. I've no occupation for my days whatever, and no place to which I can take myself. I can't stand in a club window as some men do, and I should disgrace any decent club if I did stand there. I belong to the Travellers, but I doubt whether the porter would let me go in."
"I think you pique yourself on being more of an outer Bohemian than you are," said Phineas.
"I pique myself on this, that whether Bohemian or not, I will go nowhere that I am not wanted. Though,—for the matter of that, I suppose I'm not wanted here." Then Phineas gave him the message from his father. "He wishes to see me to-morrow morning?" continued Lord Chiltern. "Let him send me word what it is he has to say to me. I do not choose to be insulted by him, though he is my father."
"I would certainly go, if I were you."
"I doubt it very much, if all the circumstances were the same. Let him tell me what he wants."
"Of course I cannot ask him, Chiltern."
"I know what he wants very well. Laura has been interfering and doing no good. You know Violet Effingham?"
"Yes; I know her," said Phineas, much surprised.