His back was half turned, and as he talked noisily, he could not observe the serene and resolute march of the Countess toward him.

The youth gaped when he found his arm taken prisoner by the insertion of a small deliciously-gloved and perfumed hand through it.
'I must claim you for a few moments,' said the Countess, and took the startled Conley girls one and all in her beautiful smile of excuse.
'Why do you compromise me thus, sir ?' These astounding words were spoken out of the hearing of the Conley girls.
'Compromise you!' muttered Harry.
Masterly was the skill with which the Countess contrived to speak angrily and as an injured woman, while she wore an indifferent social countenance.
'I repeat, compromise me.

No, Mr.Harry Jocelyn, you are not the jackanapes you try to make people think you: you understand me.' The Countess might accuse him, but Harry never had the ambition to make people think him that: his natural tendency was the reverse: and he objected to the application of the word jackanapes to himself, and was ready to contest the fact of people having that opinion at all.

However, all he did was to repeat: 'Compromise!' 'Is not open unkindness to me compromising me ?' 'How ?' asked Harry.
'Would you dare to do it to a strange lady?
Would you have the impudence to attempt it with any woman here but me?
No, I am innocent; it is my consolation; I have resisted you, but you by this cowardly behaviour place me--and my reputation, which is more--at your mercy.

Noble behaviour, Mr.Harry Jocelyn! I shall remember my young English gentleman.' The view was totally new to Harry.
'I really had no idea of compromising you,' he said.