This afternoon, they began by avoiding each other’s look. Samuel seemed indisposed for conversation; he sipped at a cup of tea with an abstracted and somewhat weary air, until Miss. Morgan addressed him.
‘To-morrow is the evening of your lecture, isn’t it, Mr. Barmby?’
‘To-morrow.’
By the agency of a friend who belonged to a society of mutual improvement at Pentonville, Samuel had been invited to go over and illumine with his wisdom the seekers after culture in that remote district, a proposal that flattered him immensely, and inspired him with a hope of more than suburban fame. For some months he had spoken of the engagement. He was to discourse upon ‘National Greatness: its Obligations and its Dangers.’
‘Of course it will be printed afterwards?’ pursued the devotee.
‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s hardly worth that.’
‘Oh, I’m sure it will be!’
And Jessica appealed to the sisters, who declared that certain passages they had been privileged to hear seemed to them very remarkable.
Ladies were to be admitted, but the Miss. Barmbys felt afraid to undertake so long a journey after dark.
‘I know some one who would very much like to go,’ said Jessica, steadying her voice. ‘Could you spare me a ticket to give away, Mr Barmby?’