Then, as Dolly came into the opening, he arose, made a bow beyond the compass of any true Briton, and swinging his hat, came to meet her.

Dolly made a curtsey in the style impressed upon her by her last governess but one--a French lady of exceedingly high ancestry and manners--and Carne recognised it as a fine thing out of date.
"Jenny, get away!" said Dolly--words not meant for him to hear, but he had grave command of countenance.
"This lays me under one more obligation:" Carne spoke in a low voice, and with a smile of diffidence which reminded her of Scudamore, though the two smiles were as different as night and day.

"I have taken a great liberty in asking you to come, and that multiplies my gratitude for your good-will.

For my own sake alone I would not have dared to sue this great favour from you, though I put it so, in terror of alarming you.
But it is for my own sake also, since anything evil to you would be terrible to me." "No one can wish to hurt me," she answered, looking up at him bravely, and yet frightened by his gaze, "because I have never harmed any one.
And I assure you, sir, that I have many to defend me, even when my father is gone from home." "It is beyond doubt.

Who would not rush to do so?
But it is from those who are least suspected that the danger comes the worst.