But he was too much mortified to be diplomatic.
'My aunt asked me to teach _you_ a bit, not any neighbour's lass.' 'Well! if I mun be taught, I mun; but I'd rayther be whipped and ha' done with it,' was Sylvia's ungracious reply.
A moment afterwards, she repented of her little spirit of unkindness, and thought that she should not like to die that night without making friends.

Sudden death was very present in her thoughts since the funeral.

So she instinctively chose the best method of making friends again, and slipped her hand into his, as he walked a little sullenly at her side.

She was half afraid, however, when she found it firmly held, and that she could not draw it away again without making what she called in her own mind a 'fuss.' So, hand in hand, they slowly and silently came up to the door of Haytersbank Farm; not unseen by Bell Robson, who sate in the window-seat, with her Bible open upon her knee.

She had read her chapter aloud to herself, and now she could see no longer, even if she had wished to read more; but she gazed out into the darkening air, and a dim look of contentment came like moonshine over her face when she saw the cousins approach.
'That's my prayer day and night,' said she to herself.
But there was no unusual aspect of gladness on her face, as she lighted the candle to give them a more cheerful welcome.
'Wheere's feyther ?' said Sylvia, looking round the room for Daniel.
'He's been to Kirk Moorside Church, for t' see a bit o' th' world, as he ca's it.