But what could his coming mean?
She feared that she understood too well.
Often she had to check the over-haste of her pace, and the way seemed terribly long, but at length she was at home and close shut in her bedroom.

The letter did not aid her to account for his coming; it had been written late on Friday night, but made absolutely no reference to what had passed between Wilfrid and his relations.

It was a long and passionate poem of his love, concerned not with outward facts, but with states of feeling.

Only at the end he had added a postscript, saying that he should write again on Monday.
It was difficult to live through the morning.

She felt that she must be busy with her hands, and, her mother's objections notwithstanding, set herself resolutely to active housework.