But was she going to fulfill her deliberate intention? She began to be afraid of herself, and to find out a certain difficulty in doing as she liked. Already her assertion of independence in evading his advances had been carried farther than was necessary, and she was thinking with some anxiety what she might do on the next occasion.
Seated according to her habit with her back to the horses on their drive homeward, she was completely under the observation of her mamma, who took the excitement and changefulness in the expression of her eyes, her unwonted absence of mind and total silence, as unmistakable signs that something unprecedented had occurred between her and Grandcourt. Mrs. Davilow's uneasiness determined her to risk some speech on the subject: the Gascoignes were to dine at Offendene, and in what had occurred this morning there might be some reason for consulting the rector; not that she expected him anymore than herself to influence Gwendolen, but that her anxious mind wanted to be disburdened.
"Something has happened, dear?" she began, in a tender tone of question.
Gwendolen looked round, and seeming to be roused to the consciousness of her physical self, took off her gloves and then her hat, that the soft breeze might blow on her head. They were in a retired bit of the road, where the long afternoon shadows from the bordering trees fell across it and no observers were within sight. Her eyes continued to meet her mother's, but she did not speak.

But was she going to fulfil her deliberate intention? She began to be afraid of herself. Already her assertion of independence in evading his advances had been carried farther than was necessary, and she was thinking with some anxiety of what she might do on the next occasion.
On their drive homeward, she was observed by her mamma, who took the excitement in her eyes and her total silence as signs that something had occurred between her and Grandcourt. Mrs. Davilow's uneasiness determined her to risk a question.
"Something has happened, dear?" she began.
Gwendolen looked round, roused to consciousness of herself. She took off her gloves and then her hat, so that the soft breeze might blow on her head, but did not speak.
