He stood behind her while she uttered her despairing lamentation.

He heard every word of her quivering lips; her whole heart painfully convulsed and torn with grief lay unveiled before him; and she knew it not.
Now he bent over her; and with his hand he lightly touched her shoulder.
At this touch she gave a convulsive start, as if hit by the stroke of a sword, and her sobbing was immediately silenced.
An awful pause ensued.

The woman lay on the floor motionless, breathless, and near her, tall and cold as a figure of bronze, stood the man.
"Lady Jane Douglas," said he then, sternly and solemnly, "stand up.

It becomes not your father's daughter to be upon her knees, when it is not God to whom she kneels.

But you are not kneeling to God, but to an idol, which you yourself have made, and to which you hate erected a temple in your heart.