Her resolute refusal to correspond with him, even after they had made it up and he was on the point of returning to Oxford, had piqued him indeed.

But he was aware that she was due at Oxford, as her uncle's ward, some time in May; and meanwhile he had coolly impressed upon himself that in the interests of his work, it was infinitely better he should be without the excitement of her letters.

By the time she arrived, he would have got through the rereading of his principal books, which a man must do in the last term before the schools, and could begin to "slack." And after the schools, he could devote himself.
But now that they had met again, he was aware of doubts and difficulties that had not yet assailed him.

That she was not indifferent to him--that his presence still played upon her nerves and senses--so much he had verified.

But during their conversation at the Vice-Chancellor's party he had become aware of something hard and resistant in her--in her whole attitude towards him--which had considerably astonished him.