She feels the intention, and draws her hand back.

His eyes are then fixed upon her, she knows, though her own see nothing but the grass.
'I have been waiting,' he begins, 'for some time, to be summoned back to my duty near you.' After several times forming her lips, which she knows he is closely watching, into the shape of some other hesitating reply, and then into none, she answers: 'Duty, sir ?' 'The duty of teaching you, serving you as your faithful music-master.' 'I have left off that study.' 'Not left off, I think.

Discontinued.

I was told by your guardian that you discontinued it under the shock that we have all felt so acutely.
When will you resume ?' 'Never, sir.' 'Never?
You could have done no more if you had loved my dear boy.' 'I did love him!' cried Rosa, with a flash of anger.
'Yes; but not quite--not quite in the right way, shall I say?
Not in the intended and expected way.

Much as my dear boy was, unhappily, too self-conscious and self-satisfied (I'll draw no parallel between him and you in that respect) to love as he should have loved, or as any one in his place would have loved--must have loved!' She sits in the same still attitude, but shrinking a little more.
'Then, to be told that you discontinued your study with me, was to be politely told that you abandoned it altogether ?' he suggested.
'Yes,' says Rosa, with sudden spirit, 'The politeness was my guardian's, not mine.