Nell, of Shorne Mills by Charles Garvice

Lord Wolfer stood, with his hand resting upon the table, in silence for a moment or two, regarding Nell, no longer sternly, but with an expression of pity which was novel in him. Nell sat with her head resting in her hands, her eyes downcast. She was still pale, but her lips were set firmly, as if she were prepared for rebuke and reproach.

"Do not be afraid," he said, at last. "I have not returned to--to blame you. You are too young to understand the peril--perhaps, too, the sin--of the step which you meditated taking. I am a man of the world, and I can appreciate the temptation to which you have been subjected.