Very soon her being seemed to set itself to more spirited music; the veil of reflection fell from her face, and she began to talk light-heartedly.
Paula behaved with singularity.

At breakfast she had been very silent, a most unusual thing, and during the day she kept an air of reserve, a sort of dignity which was amusing.

Mr.Newthorpe walked beside her pony, and adapted himself to her favourite conversation, which was always of the town and Society.
Once Annabel came up with a spray of mountain saxifrage.
'Isn't it lovely, Paula ?' she said.

'Do look at the petals.' 'Very nice,' was the reply, 'but it's too small to be of any use.' There was no more talk of Egremont's projects.

Books and friends and the delights of the upland scenery gave matter enough for conversation.
Not long after noon the sky began to cloud, and almost as soon as the party reached home again there was beginning of rain.