She received favours from none.
And so, unshackled and unchaperoned, she had gone her way among her critics, and no one--not even Tommy--suspected how deep was the wound that their barely-veiled hostility had inflicted.

In bitterness of soul she hid it from all the world, and only her brother and her brother's grim and somewhat unapproachable captain were even vaguely aware of its existence.
Everard Monck was one of the very few men who had not laid themselves down before her dainty feet, and she had gradually come to believe that this man shared the silent, side-long disapproval manifested by the women.

Very strangely that belief hurt her even more deeply, in a subtle, incomprehensible fashion, than any slights inflicted by her own sex.

Possibly Tommy's warm enthusiasm for the man had made her more sensitive regarding his good opinion.

And possibly she was over ready to read condemnation in his grave eyes.