He stepped back the moment he saw that she was having trouble with her escort, defending herself by her manner from something accusing in his.
Not to seem to spy upon her, Weatheral made his way back though the coatroom without disclosing himself.

From the door of it he timed his return so as to meet her face to face as she came up with Mrs.Goodward and was rewarded for it by the gayety of her greeting and the unaffectedness of her attack of the fresh relay of toasted muffins and tea.
"Absolutely famished," she told them, "and the shops are _so_ fascinating! You'd forgive me, Mr.Weatheral, if you could see the heaps and heaps of lovely things simply begging to be bought; it seemed positively unkind to come away and leave any of them." As she said nothing whatever about the young man, it seemed unlikely that she could have him much on her mind.

She had a new way, very charming to Peter, of surrendering the afternoon into his hands; let him ask nothing of her she seemed to say, but to enjoy herself.

She built out of their being there before her, a very delightful supposition of her mother and Mr.
Weatheral, between them having made a little space for her to be gay in and simple and lovely after her own kind.

If she took any account of them it was such as a dancer might who, practising a few steps for the mere joy and pride of it, finds herself unexpectedly surrounded by an interested and smiling audience.
If, however, with the memory of that afternoon upon him, Peter had gone down to Fairport in the latter part of July with the expectation of resuming the part of impresario to her charm, he suffered a sharp disappointment.