That Arkwright should ever suspect for a moment that she cared for him was intolerable.

Painfully conscious as she was that she did care for him, it was easy to fear that others must be conscious of it, too.

Had she not already proof that Billy suspected it?
Why, then, might not it be quite possible, even probable, that Arkwright suspected it, also; and, because he did suspect it, had decided that it would be just as well, perhaps, if he did not call so often.
In spite of Alice's angry insistence to herself that, after all, this could not be the case--that the man _knew_ she understood he still loved Billy--she could not help fearing, in the face of Arkwright's unusual absence, that it might yet be true.

When, therefore, he finally did appear, only to become at once obviously embarrassed in her presence, her fears instantly became convictions.

It was true, then.