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?’

Samuel smiled graciously, and promised the ticket.

Of course it was for Jessica’s own use.  On the following evening, long before the hour which would have allowed her ample time to reach Pentonville by eight o’clock, she set forth excitedly.  Unless Samuel Barmby were accompanied by some friend from Camberwell,—­ only too probable,—­she might hope to make the return journey under his protection.  Perhaps he would speak again of Nancy Lord, and this time he should be answered with less reserve.  What harm if she even told him the name of the man whom Nancy was ‘engaged’ to marry?

Nancy was no longer her friend.  A show of reconciliation had followed that scene on the Sunday afternoon three months ago; but Jessica well knew that she had put herself beyond forgiveness, nor did she desire it.  Even without the memory of her offence, by this time she must needs have regarded Nancy with steadfast dislike.  Weeks had gone by since their last meeting, which was rendered so unpleasant by mutual coldness that a renewal of intercourse seemed out of the question.

She would not be guilty of treachery.  But, in justice to herself, she might give Samuel Barmby to understand how hopeless was his wooing.

To her disappointment, the lecture-room was small and undignified; she had imagined a capacious hall, with Samuel Bennett Barmby standing up before an audience of several hundred people.  The cane-bottomed chairs numbered not more than fifty, and at eight o’clock some of them were still unoccupied.  Nor did the assembly answer to her expectation.  It seemed to consist of young shopmen, with a few females of their kind interspersed.  She chose a place in the middle of the room, where the lecturer could hardly fail to observe her presence.