They turned presently and went back over Shaugh Moor to drink tea at the man's home. But upon the threshold Cora changed her mind. She pleaded headache and some anxiety about her health.
"I've got a cold coming—else I wouldn't be so low-spirited," she said. "I'll get back through North Wood and go to bed early."
He instantly expressed utmost solicitation and concern.
"I'll come back with you, then. If you like, I'll put in the pony and drive you," he said. But she would neither of these things.
"I shall be all right. You go in and have your tea, and don't trouble. I'll get back by the wood path, and you'll find I shall be better to-morrow."
"'Tis that flimsy dress that lets the wind through like a net," he said. "The weather's not right for such clothes as you will wear."
But she laughed and told him to mind his own business. Then she kissed him on the cheek and went away.
He stood doubtful. First he felt moved to follow her, and then he changed his mind. He knew Cora better than she thought he did, and he was aware that at the present moment she felt perfectly well but desired to be alone.
He had not missed the significance of Mr. Waite's views on his sweetheart's mind, though he had failed to appreciate Timothy's sly humour at his own expense.
Now, therefore, he let Cora have her will and made no further effort to overtake her. He waited only until she looked back, as he knew she would; then he kissed his hand, turned, and departed.