There are many difficulties in this world which, if we refuse to submit to them, will in turn be subdued by us, but a sprained ankle is not one of them.

Robert Trenholme, having climbed a hill after he had twisted his foot, and having, contrary to all advice, used it to some extent the next day, was now fairly conquered by the sprain and destined to be held by this foot for many long days.

He explained to his brother who the lady was whom he had taken up the hill, why he himself had first happened to be with her, and that he had slipped with one foot in a roadside ditch, and, thinking to catch her up, had run across a field and so missed the lane in the darkness.

This was told in the meagre, prosaic way that left no hint of there being more to tell.
"What is she like ?" asked Alec, for he had confessed that he had talked to the lady.
"Like ?" repeated Robert, at a loss; "I think she must be like her own mother, for she is like none of the other Rexfords." "All the rest of the family are good-looking." "Yes," said Robert dreamily.
So Alec jumped to the conclusion that Robert did not consider Miss Rexford good-looking.

He did not tell anything more about her or ask anything more.