"I don't think he wants to quarrel. It's his way. He wouldn't think of the effect his words might have. I don't think he even wants to stop you making the garden."
"Oh, I'm not going on with it now. For one thing, this would spoil all the pleasure of it. After all, I've got other things to think of besides garden-making at the Grange. It has just been a recreation, but now I dare say I shall be too much occupied to be able to pay so much attention to it. Really, you know, it's ridiculous for Edmund to give himself those airs of superiority over me. I've given way too much to them in the past. I wouldn't say so to anybody but you, but what is Edmund's position compared to mine? I'm the last man in the world to give myself airs because of what I've done in the world; and with him especially I've made nothing of it, because—well, because I've hated the idea of making a contrast between him and myself. But what I can't help feeling is that he might consider all that too. I think if I were the elder brother I should have shown a good deal more pleasure than he has ever done at whatever success I have had."
"Perhaps he's a little bit jealous. I've thought that sometimes. I don't think Cynthia is, and perhaps such a feeling might be expected more from her than from him."
"Of course he's jealous. That's at the root of it all. It's a very unworthy feeling from one brother to another."
"I don't think he would recognize it as jealousy, and if he detected such a feeling in himself I think he would be ashamed of it. He is fond of you, there's no doubt about it, and he relies on you, perhaps more than he knows. He can't mean to quarrel, and if you don't treat this letter as an offence it will all blow over."
"My dear girl, what would you have me to do? I'm not going to sit down under it. My position at Hayslope would be impossible if I were to give in to this sort of thing."
"No, dear, I don't think so. You know Edmund so well. You know that he is fond of you. You have always liked being near one another, and you've had little jars before, which have made no difference."
"Nothing like this. I call a letter like that positively insulting."
"It can't have been meant to be that. If you take it in the right way he'll be sorry for having written it. If you take it as an insult—"
"What is the right way of taking it then?"