There was nothing he didn't offer, from his own dressing gown to himself as escort.

But the last was impossible.
Mrs.March would not hear of the old gentleman's undertaking the long journey, yet an expression of relief was visible when he spoke of it, for anxiety ill fits one for traveling.

He saw the look, knit his heavy eyebrows, rubbed his hands, and marched abruptly away, saying he'd be back directly.

No one had time to think of him again till, as Meg ran through the entry, with a pair of rubbers in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, she came suddenly upon Mr.Brooke.
"I'm very sorry to hear of this, Miss March," he said, in the kind, quiet tone which sounded very pleasantly to her perturbed spirit.

"I came to offer myself as escort to your mother.