The man did believe she cared for him, and he had been trying to teach her--to save her.
To teach her! To save her, indeed! Very well, he should see! And forthwith, from that moment, Alice Greggory's chief reason for living became to prove to Mr.M.J.Arkwright that he needed not to teach her, to save her, nor yet to sympathize with her.
"How do you do ?" she greeted him, with a particularly bright smile.

"I'm sure I _hope_ you are well, such a beautiful day as this." "Oh, yes, I'm well, I suppose.

Still, I have felt better in my life," smiled Arkwright, with some constraint.
"Oh, I'm sorry," murmured the girl, striving so hard to speak with impersonal unconcern that she did not notice the inaptness of her reply.
"Eh?
Sorry I've felt better, are you ?" retorted Arkwright, with nervous humor.

Then, because he was embarrassed, he said the one thing he had meant not to say: "Don't you think I'm quite a stranger?
It's been some time since I've been here." Alice, smarting under the sting of what she judged to be the only possible cause for his embarrassment, leaped to this new opportunity to show her lack of interest.
"Oh, has it ?" she murmured carelessly.

"Well, I don't know but it has, now that I come to think of it." Arkwright frowned gloomily.