Jerry was, in truth, the sort of person with whom it was impossible to be otherwise than friendly.

He was of a delightful ugliness, twenty-five years of age, penniless except for the salary he received from Errington, and he possessed a talent for friendship much as other folk possess a talent for music or art or dancing.
Diana's first meeting with him had occurred quite by chance.

Both Adrienne and Mrs.Adams happened to be out one afternoon when she called, and she was awaiting their return when the door of the drawing-room suddenly opened to admit a remarkably plain young man, who, on seeing her ensconced in one of the big arm-chairs, stood hesitating as though undecided whether to remain or to take refuge in instant flight.
Adrienne had talked so much about Jerry--of whom she was exceedingly fond--and had so often described his charming ugliness to Diana that the latter was in no doubt at all as to whom the newcomer might be.
She nodded to him reassuringly.
"Don't run away," she said calmly, "I don't bite." The young man promptly closed the door and advanced into the room.
"Don't you ?" he said in relieved tones.

"Thank you for telling me.
One never knows." "If you've come to see Miss de Gervais, I'm afraid you can't at present, as she's out," pursued Diana.

"I'm waiting for her." "Then we can wait together," returned Mr.Leigh, with an engaging smile.