He took an opportunity to furtively to eye himself in a pocket-mirror, and was subsequently haunted by an additional dread that Emilia might have discovered the instrument; and set him down as a vain foolish dog.

When he saw her laugh he was sure of it.

Instead of responding to Mr.Pole's encouragement, he assumed a taciturn aspect worthy of a youthful anchorite, and continued to be the spectator of a scene to which his soul was dead.
"I believe that fellow's thinking of nothing but his supper," said Mr.
Pole.
"I dare say he dined early in the day," returned Emilia, remembering how hungry she used to be in the evenings of the potatoe-days.
"Yes, but he might laugh, all the same." And Mr.Pole gave Emilia the sound advice: "Mind you never marry a fellow who can't laugh." Braintop saw Emilia smile.

Then, in an instant, her face changed its expression to one of wonder and alarm, and her hands clasped together tightly.

What on earth was the matter with her?
His agitated fancy, centred in himself, now decided that some manifestation of most shocking absurdity had settled on his forehead, or his hair, for he was certain of his neck-tie.