What a registering thermometer of intimacy exists in notes, from the icy zero of first acquaintance to the raging throb of boiling blood-heat! So Claudius, after many trials, arrived at the requisite pitch of absolute severity, and began his note, "My dear Countess Margaret," and signed it, "very obediently yours," which said just what was literally true; and he stated that he would immediately proceed to carry out the Countess's commands, and make a list in which nothing should be wanting that could contribute to her amusement.
When he went to see her on the following day he was a little surprised at her manner, which inclined more to the severe coldness of that memorable day of difficulties than to the unbending he had expected from her note.

Of course he had no reason to be disappointed, and he showed his inexperience.

She was compensating her conscience for the concession she had made in intimating that he might go.

It was indeed a concession, but to what superior power she had yielded it behoves not inquisitive man to ask.

Perhaps she thought Claudius would enjoy the trip very much, and said to herself she had no right to make him give it up.
They read together for some time, and at last Claudius asked her, in connection with a point which arose, whether she would like to read a German book that he thought good.
"Very much," said she.