But from a momentary feeling that he would like to know Grace's mind from her own lips, he did not speak out positively there and then.

He accordingly departed somewhat abruptly, and went home to consider whether he would seek to bring about a meeting with her.
In the evening, while he sat quietly pondering, he fancied that he heard a scraping on the wall outside his house.

The boughs of a monthly rose which grew there made such a noise sometimes, but as no wind was stirring he knew that it could not be the rose-tree.

He took up the candle and went out.

Nobody was near.