That somebody had just left the room he was certain, and that the lovely form which seemed to have visited him in a dream was no less than the real presentation of the person departed he could hardly doubt.
Looking out of the window a few minutes later, down the box-edged gravel-path which led to the bottom, he saw the garden door gently open, and through it enter the young girl of his thoughts, Grace having just at this juncture determined to return and attempt the interview a second time.

That he saw her coming instead of going made him ask himself if his first impression of her were not a dream indeed.

She came hesitatingly along, carrying her umbrella so low over her head that he could hardly see her face.

When she reached the point where the raspberry bushes ended and the strawberry bed began, she made a little pause.
Fitzpiers feared that she might not be coming to him even now, and hastily quitting the room, he ran down the path to meet her.

The nature of her errand he could not divine, but he was prepared to give her any amount of encouragement.
"I beg pardon, Miss Melbury," he said.