What did she see?
a colourless face, dark soft hair with no light gleams in it, eyes that were melancholy instead of smiling, a mouth compressed with a sense of dissatisfaction.

This was what she had to compare with the bright bonny face in the sunlight outside.

She gave a gulp to check the sigh that was rising, and came back, even more patient than she had been before this disheartening peep, to serve all the whims and fancies of purchasers.
Sylvia herself had been rather put out by Philip's way of coming to her.

'It made her look so silly,' she thought; and 'what for must he make a sight of himself, coming among the market folk in that-a-way'; and when he took to admiring her hat, she pulled out the flowers in a pet, and threw them down, and trampled them under foot.
'What for art thou doing that, Sylvie ?' said her mother.

'The flowers is well enough, though may-be thy hat might ha' been stained.' 'I don't like Philip to speak to me so,' said Sylvia, pouting.
'How ?' asked her mother.
But Sylvia could not repeat his words.