When he left the room, Rose marched out silently beside him.
'Will you ride over with me, Rose ?' he said, though scarcely anxious that she should see Mr.Raikes immediately.
The singular sharpness of her refusal astonished him none the less.
'Thank you, no; I would rather not.' A lover is ever ready to suspect that water has been thrown on the fire that burns for him in the bosom of his darling.

Sudden as the change was, it was very decided.

His sensitive ears were pained by the absence of his Christian name, which her lips had lavishly made sweet to him.

He stopped in his walk.
'You spoke of riding to Fallow field.

Is it possible you don't want me to bring my friend here?
There's time to prevent it.' Judged by the Countess de Saldar, the behaviour of this well-born English maid was anything but well-bred.