It certainly did not look like the abode of a family of any pretensions.

It formed, indeed, such a contrast to any house he would have lived in, even had painting and fencing to be done with his own hand, that he felt a sort of wrath rising in him at Miss Rexford's father and brother, that they should suffer her to live in such a place.
He had not come well in front before he observed that the women of the family were grouped at work on the green under a tree near the far end of the house.

A moment more, and he saw the lady of the midnight walk coming towards him over the grass.

He never doubted that it was she, although he had not seen her before by daylight.

She had purposely avoided him on the Sunday; he had felt it natural she should do so.