And so she sat down again, with the large ear-rings in her ears, and the black lace scarf adjusted round her shoulders.

She looked down at her arms: no arms could be prettier down to a little way below the elbow--they were white and plump, and dimpled to match her cheeks; but towards the wrist, she thought with vexation that they were coarsened by butter-making and other work that ladies never did.
Captain Donnithorne couldn't like her to go on doing work: he would like to see her in nice clothes, and thin shoes, and white stockings, perhaps with silk clocks to them; for he must love her very much--no one else had ever put his arm round her and kissed her in that way.

He would want to marry her and make a lady of her; she could hardly dare to shape the thought--yet how else could it be?
Marry her quite secretly, as Mr.
James, the doctor's assistant, married the doctor's niece, and nobody ever found it out for a long while after, and then it was of no use to be angry.

The doctor had told her aunt all about it in Hetty's hearing.
She didn't know how it would be, but it was quite plain the old Squire could never be told anything about it, for Hetty was ready to faint with awe and fright if she came across him at the Chase.

He might have been earth-born, for what she knew.