She had forgotten to tell either of them that the Bishop of Southminster was going to call that afternoon.

She knew he was coming on purpose to see her, but this would have been incredible to the Gresleys.

She had not read Rachel's letter announcing his coming till she had taken refuge in the field where she had fallen asleep, and her mental equilibrium had been so shaken by the annoyance she felt she had caused the Gresleys at luncheon that she had entirely forgotten the subject till this moment.
She darted out of the house and flew down the little drive.

But Fortune frowned on Hester to-day.

She reached the turn of the road only to see the bent figure of Mr.Gresley whisk swiftly out of sight, his clerical coat-tails flowing gracefully out behind like a divided skirt on each side of the back wheel.
Hester toiled back to the house breathless and dusty, and ready to cry with vexation.