Agnes, whose eye fell on her sister during the pause, was struck with a passing sense of something out of the common.

She could hardly have defined her impression, but Catherine seemed more alive to the outer world, more like other people, less nun-like, than usual.
When they had left the garden together, as they had come into it, and Mrs.Leyburn, complaining of chilliness, had retreated to the drawing-room, Rose laid a quick hand on her sister's arm.
'You say Catherine likes him?
Owl! What is a great deal more certain is that he likes her.' 'Well,' said Agnes, calmly, 'well, I await your remarks.' 'Poor fellow!' said Rose grimly, and removed her hand.
Meanwhile Elsmere and Catherine walked along the valley road toward the Vicarage.

He thought, uneasily, she was a little more reserved with him than she had been in those pleasant moments after he had overtaken her in the pony-carriage; but still she was always kind, always courteous.
And what a white hand it was, hanging ungloved against her dress! What a beautiful dignity and freedom, as of mountain winds and mountain streams, in every movement! 'You are bound for High Ghyll ?' he said to her as they neared the Vicarage gate.

'Is it not a long way for you?
You have been at a meeting already, your sister said, and teaching this morning!' He looked down on her with a charming diffidence, as though aware that their acquaintance was very young, and yet with a warm eagerness of feeling piercing through.

As she paused under his eye the slightest flush rose to Catherine's cheek.