She had never wept or fainted or done any of the interesting things young ladies were supposed to do in his time.

She had been always the light of the house, always happy and healthy and gay.
While he looked at the bell uncertainly, being half of a mind to summon assistance, Nelly relieved him from his doubt by running away out of the room, and when they met again he did not remind her of the scene.

That discretion of his went to her heart.

It was so strange and pitiful for him to be discreet, so unlike him.
After that he began to praise Robin Drummond, not too suddenly nor too effusively at first, but by degrees, so as not to awaken Nelly's suspicions.

He amazed Robin Drummond by his cordiality in those days, and the young fellow commented on it whimsically to Nelly herself.
"He has been telling me all my life that I am a poor creature," he said, "and here he is, to all intents and purposes, eating his own words.