He arranged himself for a greeting from her, since she could hardly avoid passing immediately beneath the tree.
But Grace, though she looked up and saw him, was just at that time too full of the words of her father to give him any encouragement.

The years-long regard that she had had for him was not kindled by her return into a flame of sufficient brilliancy to make her rebellious.
Thinking that she might not see him, he cried, "Miss Melbury, here I am." She looked up again.

She was near enough to see the expression of his face, and the nails in his soles, silver-bright with constant walking.
But she did not reply; and dropping her glance again, went on.
Winterborne's face grew strange; he mused, and proceeded automatically with his work.

Grace meanwhile had not gone far.

She had reached a gate, whereon she had leaned sadly, and whispered to herself, "What shall I do ?" A sudden fog came on, and she curtailed her walk, passing under the tree again on her return.