It surprised him to see who his visitor was; yet more, when she advanced to him with her hand extended, saying a simple 'Good-bye.' 'Good-bye?
Wherefore ?' Her attire explained.

Beatrice possessed the beauty of form and face which makes profit of any costume; in the light-brown cape, and hat to match, her tall, lithe figure had a womanly dignity which suited well with the unsmiling expressiveness of her countenance.

The 'good-bye' was uttered briefly and without emphasis, as one uses any insignificant form of speech.
Wilfrid resolved at once to accept her whim; after all, it was but another instance of frequent eccentricities.
'Who is going to the station with you ?' he asked.
'No one.

I hate partings on the platform.' She moved away almost as far as the door, then turned again.
'You will be in town before going back to Oxford ?' Wilfrid hesitated.
'Oh, never mind,' she said; and was gone.
Ten minutes later Wilfrid went to the drawing-room.

Mr.and Mrs.
Baxendale were talking together; they became silent as he entered.
'Has Miss Redwing gone ?' he asked.
'She took leave of you, didn't she ?' replied the lady.
'Yes.