If she had quite understood Sir Hastings is impossible to know, for no one has ever asked her since, but certainly the advent of her guardian is a relief to her.
"You!" she says again, as if only half believing.

Her gaze grows bewildered.

If he had never seen her in anything but black before, she had never seen him in aught but rather antiquated morning clothes.

Is this really the professor?
Her eyes ask the question anxiously.

This tall, aristocratic, perfectly appointed man; this man who looks positively _young_.