She was even doubtful if they would really miss her, so little had they ever taken her into their lives.

For them she was still the child to be kept in her place, however much she had tried to grow a little nearer.

Then her thoughts turned back to ways and means.
She so often spent the whole day with Cheiron that her absence would not be remarked upon until bedtime.

But then she suddenly remembered, with a feeling of consternation, that the Professor intended to leave on the Tuesday in Whitsun week for his annual fortnight in London.

If the household knew of this, it might complicate matters, and was a pity.
However, there was no use speculating about any of these things, since she did not yet know on which day she was to start--to start for Paradise--as the wife of her Beloved! Next morning it was fine again, and she decided she would go towards their tree, and if John were not there, she would even go on to the orchard house, because she realized fully the difficulty he would find in sending her a message.
But he was there waiting for her, in the bright sunlight, and she thought him the perfection of what a man should look in his well-cut gray flannels.
John Derringham knew how to dress himself, and had even in his oldest clothes that nameless, indescribable distinction which seems often to be the birthright of Englishmen of his class.
The daylight made her timid again; she was no more the imperious goddess of the night.