Result, that Sir George, picturing the girl's fate, her proud, passionate face, and her future, felt a sting at once selfish and unselfish, a pang at once generous and vicious.

Perhaps at the bottom of his irritation lay the feeling that if she was to be any man's prey she might be his.

But on the whole his feelings were surprisingly honest; they had their root in a better nature, that, deep sunk under the surface of breeding and habit, had been wholesomely stirred by the events of the last few days.
Still, the good and the evil in the man were so far in conflict that, had he been asked as he walked to Magdalen what he proposed to do should he get speech with the girl, it is probable he would not have known what to answer.

Courtesy, nay, decency required that he should, inquire after his antagonist.

If he saw the girl--and he had a sneaking desire to see her--well.