"Anyhow, I mean to take the garden in hand.

When you come down to the Wood House next, you shall hear all my plans, and of course we shall have one of our old fights over them." Now what was there in this speech to cause such a curious revulsion in Malcolm's mind?
Elizabeth was speaking with the utmost good-humour, and at any other moment he would have thought her imperiousness charming--so what possessed him to draw himself up and say rather stiffly that he feared that it would be some time before they saw him at Staplegrove.

"You know, I am going abroad this summer with my mother and Anna Sheldon," he continued gravely; "we are going to the Engadine and the Italian Lakes." "But that is not until August," returned Elizabeth, rather taken aback by Malcolm's sudden gravity.

She had been so pleased with him the previous afternoon; her liking for him had deepened, and she had felt a genuine desire for his friendship.

In her secret heart she knew how well he had behaved, and was grateful to him for his delicacy and tact; but at this moment she felt as though she had received a douche of cold water.