She would not have accompanied him to the door in response to his whispered "Come!" if her mother had not said in a matter-of-fact way, "Of course, Grace; go to the door with Mr.Fitzpiers." Accordingly Grace went, both her parents remaining in the room.

When the young pair were in the great brick-floored hall the lover took the girl's hand in his, drew it under his arm, and thus led her on to the door, where he stealthily kissed her.
She broke from him trembling, blushed and turned aside, hardly knowing how things had advanced to this.

Fitzpiers drove off, kissing his hand to her, and waving it to Melbury who was visible through the window.
Her father returned the surgeon's action with a great flourish of his own hand and a satisfied smile.
The intoxication that Fitzpiers had, as usual, produced in Grace's brain during the visit passed off somewhat with his withdrawal.

She felt like a woman who did not know what she had been doing for the previous hour, but supposed with trepidation that the afternoon's proceedings, though vague, had amounted to an engagement between herself and the handsome, coercive, irresistible Fitzpiers.
This visit was a type of many which followed it during the long summer days of that year.

Grace was borne along upon a stream of reasonings, arguments, and persuasions, supplemented, it must be added, by inclinations of her own at times.