She looked at him, and then she turned away.
“Though I didn’t come to see you,” she said, “remember at least that I am within your gates.”
“I am delighted—I am honored! Won’t you come into the house?”
“I have just come out of it. I have been calling upon your mother. I have been bidding her farewell.”
“Farewell?” Acton demanded.
“I am going away,” said the Baroness. And she turned away again, as if to illustrate her meaning.
“When are you going?” asked Acton, standing a moment in his place. But the Baroness made no answer, and he followed her.
“I came this way to look at your garden,” she said, walking back to the gate, over the grass. “But I must go.”
“Let me at least go with you.” He went with her, and they said nothing till they reached the gate. It was open, and they looked down the road which was darkened over with long bosky shadows. “Must you go straight home?” Acton asked.
But she made no answer. She said, after a moment, “Why have you not been to see me?” He said nothing, and then she went on, “Why don’t you answer me?”