Perhaps, in her heart of hearts, she was doubtful of her power to make a silk purse out of rhinoceros hide.
When at last a note came from The Plough to say that he was unfortunately prevented from coming that evening, but would come next morning to take her for a walk, she was filled with so extravagant a relief that it frightened her.

She sat down and wrote out a telegram to her brother, rang for old Sarah, their trusty hard-working maid, and bade her tell the Terror, who had slipped quietly upstairs to bed at one minute to nine, to send it off in the morning.

She did not wish to take the chance of not waking and despatching it as early as possible.
She must have advice; and Sir Maurice Falconer was not only a shrewd man of the world, but he would also advise her with the keenest regard for her interests.

She tried not to hope that he would find marriage with Captain Baster incompatible with them.
Captain Baster awoke in less than his usual cheerfulness.

He thought for a while of the Terror and boots and mud with a gloomy unamiability.
Then he rose and betook himself to his toilet.