But by the next day her mood was already softened and her conscience again at work. She was sorry to think that she might, however unintentionally, have hurt him so deeply. Poor Lovel! his position and his family made her over-sensitive. She would not willingly add to his burden. Perhaps he was already regretting a too hasty refusal. But how to approach him as it were by chance? for she felt she would sooner lose his friendship altogether than send a second message to his house. There was one very obvious course open to her: she took her pony and rode up to the Downs. But although she rode up to the White Horse, and down again to the Grey Wethers, and round by Lovel’s hut, and skirted most of the valleys where there was likely shelter and pasture for sheep, she saw no sign of Lovel. She was again angry with him for not being there, nor did the fact that he followed many trades besides that of a shepherd do anything to soothe her annoyance. She came back, entering the village on the farther side to avoid passing his house. She felt as though something whose value she had never realised while she still possessed it, had gone out of her life; and here again she found cause for anger with Lovel. But she could not remain angry with him for very long together. She wondered what he was doing; whether he missed her as much as she missed him; whether his mood had passed by now into a sulky childish obstinacy that was determined not to make the first advance, but that, if it were dragged out of its corner, could be willing enough to be coaxed into making friends. Clare smiled fondly as she thought how well she knew him. She thought that she had only to meet him face to face for laughter to spring into his eyes,--laughter both at the relief of their reconciliation, and at himself for his past foolishness.