I leave you, blackened in character--you cannot think of me without contempt.

I can never hope that this will change.

But, for your kindness let me thank you.' And as speech is poor where emotion is extreme--and he knew his own to be especially so--he took her hand with petitioning eyes, and dropping on one knee, reverentially kissed it.
Lady Jocelyn was human enough to like to be appreciated.

She was a veteran Pagan, and may have had the instinct that a peculiar virtue in this young one was the spring of his conduct.

She stood up and said: 'Don't forget that you have a friend here.' The poor youth had to turn his head from her.
'You wish that I should tell Rose what you have told me at once, Mr.
Harrington ?' 'Yes, my lady; I beg that you will do so.' 'Well!' And the queer look Lady Jocelyn had been wearing dimpled into absolute wonder.