Nevertheless she wondered greatly at Lovel’s refusal to do work at the Manor House. She wondered whether she had inadvertently offended him, but could recall nothing; their last meeting had been as friendly as ever, nor had his manner in any way betrayed anything amiss. He was, however, so strange and fiery a creature, so unaccountable in his moods, that some chance word of hers might well have rankled, grown during the night, and borne fruit upon the following day. She went carefully in her mind over their recent conversations, which, happily inconsequent and spasmodic, were a little difficult to recollect in detail; but she achieved this feat, smiling again with a little heartache over Lovel’s remarks about children,--ah, what a good friendship it had been!--but her sifting of their talks revealed nothing. She went about the house, still wondering after Lovel. What if she had imagined the whole thing? What if he had been genuinely prevented? the hints that Olver had let drop might well be the progeny only of that sickly brain. Revived by this idea, yet apprehensive of its allusion, she sought out William Baskett and sent him off to Lovel with a message. “Say to him, William, that I have a small repair to be done to the cupboard in my room, and beg him to come with his bag of tools as quickly as may be. Say that it is a neat job I require or I would not otherwise disturb him. Say that it is in my room, and for my own particular use.” A quarter of an hour later William returned: Lovel must ask Miss Warrener to excuse him, he was busy and could not come. At that Clare flamed into anger. What! she held out an olive branch to the man, over some imaginary affront, and he rejected it? Very well. Let him nurse his grievance; he should not be given another chance. She was all the angrier with him because she was angry with herself for having sent a verbal message by Baskett; the story, conceivably, would be repeated at the Waggon of Hay, in which case it would be all over the village; she ought to have written Lovel a note. The whole of her day was spoilt by her resentment; it pricked her constantly through all her occupations; she dared not go outside the gates for fear of meeting the offender; she hated him for thus disturbing her peace of mind and inconveniencing her movements. One thing at least was clear by now, that he was deliberately avoiding her. He should not have cause to complain that she sought him out.