You're not the girl you were a few short weeks ago, and Mr.
Goodwood will see it.

I expect him here any day." "I hope he'll hate me then," said Isabel.
"I believe you hope it about as much as I believe him capable of it." To this observation our heroine made no return; she was absorbed in the alarm given her by Henrietta's intimation that Caspar Goodwood would present himself at Gardencourt.

She pretended to herself, however, that she thought the event impossible, and, later, she communicated her disbelief to her friend.

For the next forty-eight hours, nevertheless, she stood prepared to hear the young man's name announced.

The feeling pressed upon her; it made the air sultry, as if there were to be a change of weather; and the weather, socially speaking, had been so agreeable during Isabel's stay at Gardencourt that any change would be for the worse.