But it would not do.

Some imperceptible but great change had taken place.
It seemed a year since that Saturday afternoon, when we were drinking tea so merrily under the apple-tree in the field.
We heard no more from Miss March that day.

The next, we received a message of thanks for our "kindness." She had given way at last, Mrs.
Tod said, and kept her chamber, not seriously ill, but in spirit thoroughly broken down.

For three days more, when I went to meet John returning from Norton Bury, I could see that his first glance, as he rode up between the chestnut trees, was to the window of the room that had been mine.

I always told him, without his asking, whatever Mrs.
Tod had told me about her state; he used to listen, generally in silence, and then speak of something else.