He eagerly apologized.

He was perfectly aware of her extraordinary merits, and should be entirely lost without her help.

The fact was he had had a painful scene, and was overdone.
Elizabeth received his explanation very coldly, only repeating, 'May I go to bed ?' The Squire drew his hand across his eyes.
'It is not very late--not yet eleven.' He pointed to the grandfather clock opposite.

'If you will only wait while I write something ?'--he pointed to a chair.

'Just take a book there, and give me a quarter of an hour, no more--I want your signature, that's all.