Then she looked up into young Warlock's face and was reassured.

She could trust him.
He stood with his arm on the shabby, dusty mantelpiece, looking down upon her with his good-natured kindly smile, so kindly that she felt that he was younger than she and needed protection in a world that was filled with designing Uncle Mathews and mysterious Aunt Annes and horrible Miss Warlocks.
He, on his side, as he looked down at her, was surprised at his own excitement.

His heart was beating, his hand trembling--before this plain, ordinary, unattractive girl! Unattractive physically--but not uninteresting.

One of the most interesting human beings whom he had ever met, simply because she was utterly unlike any one else.

He felt shame before her, because he knew that she would believe every word that he said.