His eyes were no longer merely sad and absent, but restless with fatiguing thought.

As Jane entered the room he fixed his gaze upon her--a gaze that appeared to reveal worrying apprehension.
'You remember Mr.Percival, Jane,' he said.
The old gentleman thus presented held out his hand with something of fatherly geniality.
'Miss Snowdon, I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again before long, but just now I am carrying off your grandfather for a couple of hours, and indeed we mustn't linger that number of minutes.

You look well, I think ?' He stood and examined her intently, then cried: 'Come, my dear sir, come! we shall be late.' Snowdon was already prepared for walking.

He spoke a few words to Jane, then followed Mr.Percival downstairs.
Flurried by the encounter, Jane stood looking about her.

Then came a rush of disappointment as she reflected that the visitor of Wednesday evenings would call in vain.