She was checked.

"It must be left to me," said Arabella.
"Of course you resist, dear ?" Cornelia carelessly questioned.
"Assuredly I do." "Better humiliation! better anything! better marriage! than to submit in such a case," cried Adela.
For, so united were the ladies of Brookfield, and so bent on their grand hazy object, that they looked upon married life unfavourably: and they had besides an idea that Wedlock, until 'late in life' (the age of thirty, say), was the burial alive of woman intellectual.
Toward midday the ladies put on their garden hats and went into the grounds together, for no particular purpose.

Near the West copse they beheld Mr.Pole with Wilfrid and Emilia talking to a strange gentleman.
Assuming a proper dignity, they advanced, when, to their horror, Emilia ran up to them crying: "This is Mr.Purcell Barrett, the gentleman who plays the organ at church.

I met him in the woods before I knew you.

I played for him the other Sunday, and I want you to know him." She had hold of Arabella's hand and was drawing her on.