Was it possible people could suffer like this and yet go on living ? `` I do n't care -- I do n't care ! '' she moaned , telling the lie aloud to herself , as if she hoped that by this means she would come to believe it . When twilight came she went out to the front steps and leaned her aching head against the honeysuckle trellis . The sun had just set and the whole world swam in dusky golden light . The wonderful beauty frightened her . She felt like a blot on it . While she stood there , a buggy came driving up the lane and wheeled about at the steps . In it was Spencer Morgan . Estella saw him and , in spite of the maddening throb of hope that seemed suddenly to transfigure the world for her , her pride rose in arms . Had Spencer come the night before , he would have found her loving and humble . Even now , had she but been sure that he had come to see her , she would have unbent . But was it the other ? The torturing doubt stung her to the quick . She waited , stubbornly resolved that she would not speak first . It was not in her place . Spencer Morgan flicked his horse sharply with his whip . He dared not look at Estella , but he felt her uncompromising attitude . He was miserably ashamed of himself , and he felt angry at Estella for his shame . `` Do you care to come for a drive ? ''
he asked awkwardly , XXXXX a covert glance at the parlour windows .
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