She had not expected a woman with whom one could take no liberties.

Those clear dark eyes, and that soft, perfectly graceful manner--to a person so 'sympathetic' one should be able to say anything, and--one couldn't! It was awkward.

And suddenly she noticed that Mrs.Noel was sitting perfectly upright, as upright--more upright, than she was herself.

A bad, sign--a very bad sign! Taking out her handkerchief, she put it to her lips.
"I suppose you think," she said, "that we were not chased by a bull." "I am sure you were." "Indeed! Ah! But I've something else to talk to you about." Mrs.Noel's face quivered back, as a flower might when it was going to be plucked; and again Lady Casterley put her handkerchief to her lips.
This time she rubbed them hard.

There was nothing to come off; to do so, therefore, was a satisfaction.
"I am an old woman," she said, "and you mustn't mind what I say." Mrs.Noel did not answer, but looked straight at her visitor; to whom it seemed suddenly that this was another person.