"My feelings, madam, lie in one way only—the way of gratitude," he said, meekly.
The lady's face broadened, and there was a pause.
"It is a great distinction, Mr. Mylrea," said the lady, and she drew her breath inward.
"The greater my gratitude," said Thorkell.
"And how far would you go to show this gratitude to the Duchess?"
"Any length, madam," said Thorkell, and he rose and bowed.
"The Duchess is at present at Bath—"
"I would go so far, and—further, madam, further," said Thorkell, and as he spoke he thrust his right hand deep into his pocket, and there—by what accident may not be said—it touched some coins that chinked.
There was another pause, and then the lady rose and held out her hand, and said, in a significant tone:
"I think, sir, I may already venture to hail you as Deemster of Man."