She noticed the mountains, for he made her do so; but the birds sang sleepy songs to her unheeded, and the yellow asphodels made a kind of sunshine at her feet that she never saw; and even her father's voice disturbed the dreamy charm of thoughts that touched a deeper, sweeter joy than moor or mountain, bird or flower, had ever given her.
Before they reached home, the squire had also become silent.

He came into the hall with the face of one dissatisfied and unhappy.

The feeling spread through the house, as a drop of ink spreads itself through a glass of water.

It almost suited Sophia's mood, and Mrs.Sandal was not inclined to discuss it until the squire was alone with her.

Then she asked the question of all questions the most irritating, "What is the matter with you, squire ?" "What is the matter, indeed?
Love-making.