The evening had not been productive of much comfort to either of them; a sense of widening estrangement, of ever-deepening misunderstanding kept them apart. When Elizabeth went to the piano--for she had been induced to resume her singing--Malcolm did not follow her; neither did she sing one of his favourite songs. Even when Dinah innocently recalled one that she remembered he loved, and begged her sister to sing it, Elizabeth obstinately refused. "Oh, that old thing!" she said contemptuously; "I am so tired of it." But Malcolm was quite aware of her reason for refusing: she would make no effort to please him, for fear he should be encouraged to repeat his offence. The next morning things were no better. Cedric had asked Malcolm to walk with them to the valley. It was a glorious morning--bright and fresh and sweet--"just the day for a prowl," as Cedric said. "You will come too. Betty?" he continued; but to every one's surprise Elizabeth demurred to this. "She was very sorry," she stammered, "but she had promised to go to Rotherwood." "Why, we are all going there after luncheon!" exclaimed Cedric. "Herrick wants to call at the vicarage, so we can leave him there, and you can go on to Rowan Cottage." But again Elizabeth hesitated. "It was a great pity," she returned hurriedly, "but Mr. Carlyon and Theo were going to Earlsfield in the afternoon, and she wanted to see Theo particularly about the new school-books that they were to order at Thornton's. Theo makes such mistakes," she went on: "the last batch was all wrong and had to be sent back;" and though Cedric argued with her, and Anna put in a persuasive word or two, Elizabeth was firm. The afternoon would not do. She was very sorry to be so unsociable; but it could not be helped--she must go alone. All this time Malcolm had said no word. Perhaps if he had, Elizabeth might have been induced to reconsider her decision. The fact was, she was getting sore as well as unhappy. "If he had wanted me, he would have asked me to accompany them," she said to herself, never dreaming that her brusque, decided manner made any such invitation on his part a sheer impossibility. So Elizabeth had her way, and spent a long pottering morning in the schools and in going over accounts with Theo. More than once she put back her hair from her hot forehead with a gesture of weariness. How lovely the valley would look! she thought. How dark the shadows of the firs would lie! while golden shafts of sunlight would penetrate between the slender stems! She knew where they would be sitting--on a shady knoll overlooking the Dale farm and the range of hillside beyond. They would be talking to him about the Priory, and their future life, and all their hopes and fears; and he would be listening to them with that kind smile she knew so well on his lips. "What is the matter with you, Elizabeth?" cried Theo rather pettishly; "do you know, you have added up all those figures wrongly?"