It is very human to be glad on our own account when people are as fond of us as we expected them to be; but it is divine to be glad, solely for their sakes, when they act up to their own ideals, quite apart from us.

And there was a touch of divinity in Elisabeth's gladness just then, though the rest of her was extremely human--and feminine at that.
On her way home she encountered Caleb Bateson going back to work after dinner, and she told him to ask Mr.Thornley to come up to the Willows that afternoon, as she wanted to see him.

She preferred to send a verbal message, as by so doing she postponed for a few hours that climbing-down process which she so much disliked; although it is frequently easier to climb down by means of one's pen than by means of one's tongue.
Christopher felt no pleasure in receiving her message.

He was not angry with her, although he marvelled at the unreasonableness and injustice of a sex that thinks more of a day's pleasure than a life's devotion; he did not know that it was over the life's devotion and not the day's pleasure that Elisabeth had fought so hard that day; but his encounter with her had strangely tired him, and taken the zest out of his life, and he had no appetite for any more of such disastrous and inglorious warfare.
But he obeyed her mandate all the same, having learned the important political lesson that the fact of a Government's being in the wrong is no excuse for not obeying the orders of that Government; and he waited for her in the drawing-room at the Willows, looking out toward the sunset and wondering how hard upon him Elisabeth was going to be.

And his thoughts were so full of her that he did not hear her come into the room until she clasped both her hands round his arm and looked up into his gloomy face, saying-- "Oh! Chris, I'm so dreadfully ashamed of myself." The clouds were dispelled at once, and Christopher smiled as he had not smiled for a week.