‘I will, with pleasure,’ said Jim. They parted, though neither was aware of it, in sight of Florry, who had come out very wretched to see whether in her perambulations about the village she could catch a glimpse of Jim, and who came up to him a few moments after he had left the curate, in a state of curious commotion which Jim found it very difficult to understand.
‘Oh, Jim,’ she cried, ‘where have you been?’—the usual phrase. But then she added, ‘Have you been somewhere with Mr. Osborne?’ in a voice that fluttered like a bird.
‘I have been to Winwick with Osborne, and we lunched with Ormerod off an excellent beef-steak,’ said the complacent Jim.
But Florence answered not a word. She put down her veil, which was unnecessary, and struggled with it a little to draw it over her face, turning away her head.
XXXV
Jim was very busy about the book-shelves that evening, taking out and putting back various books, until, at last, his movements called forth the observations of his anxious family. The Rector, who had come home moody and troubled, and who had made no inquiry into Sophocles, neither had shown the interest that was expected in Jim’s expedition to Winwick with the curate, looked up fretfully and begged his son to have a little respect for other people’s occupations if he had none of his own. Mr. Plowden was doing nothing more serious than reading the evening paper, so that the gravity of this address was a little uncalled-for; but he was put out about something, as all the family was aware.
‘What are you looking for?’ said his mother, who had boundless patience with Jim.
‘I want to take two or three things over to Osborne,’ said Jim, ‘to let him choose. I’m to read something for him at his entertainment.’
‘What?’ said the Rector, looking over the top of his paper with angry eyes.
Upon which Jim repeated his announcement a little louder and with a slight air of defiance; or, at least, the air of a man ready to be defiant, as—when there is nothing but virtue in his mind, a man feels that he has a right to be.