With an outburst of weeping she buried her head on her knees. He hoped that this passionate weeping might relieve her excitement. Meanwhile he was inwardly picturing in much embarrassment how he should present himself with her in Park Lane--the course which he had at first unreflectingly determined on. No one kinder and more gentle than Lady Mallinger; but it was hardly probable that she would be at home; and he had a shuddering sense of a lackey staring at this delicate, sorrowful image of womanhood--of glaring lights and fine staircases, and perhaps chilling suspicious manners from lady's maid and housekeeper, that might scare the mind already in a state of dangerous susceptibility. But to take her to any other shelter than a home already known to him was not to be contemplated: he was full of fears about the issue of the adventure which had brought on him a responsibility all the heavier for the strong and agitating impression this childlike creature had made on him. But another resource came to mind: he could venture to take her to Mrs. Meyrick's--to the small house at Chelsea--where he had been often enough since his return from abroad to feel sure that he could appeal there to generous hearts, which had a romantic readiness to believe in innocent need and to help it. Hans Meyrick was safe away in Italy, and Deronda felt the comfort of presenting himself with his charge at a house where he would be met by a motherly figure of quakerish neatness, and three girls who hardly knew of any evil closer to them than what lay in history-books, and dramas, and would at once associate a lovely Jewess with Rebecca in _Ivanhoe_, besides thinking that everything they did at Deronda's request would be done for their idol, Hans. The vision of the Chelsea home once raised, Deronda no longer hesitated.

With an outburst of weeping she buried her head on her knees. He hoped that this passionate weeping might relieve her agitation. Meanwhile he was inwardly picturing in much embarrassment how he should present himself with her in Park Lane. No one kinder and more gentle than Lady Mallinger; but she might not be at home; and he had a shuddering sense of a lackey staring at this delicate, sorrowful girl, and perhaps chilling suspicion from lady's maid and housekeeper.
But to take her to any other shelter than a home already known to him was not to be contemplated. Another resource came to mind: he could take her to Mrs. Meyrick's - to the small house at Chelsea, where he felt sure that he could appeal to generous hearts. Hans Meyrick was safe away in Italy, and Deronda felt the comfort of presenting himself with his charge at a house where he would be met by a motherly figure of quakerish neatness, and three girls who hardly knew of any evil beyond what lay in history-books, and would at once associate a lovely Jewess with Rebecca in "Ivanhoe." Deronda no longer hesitated.
