Edward was again silent, and his aunt continued to talk to him so kindly yet so earnestly, that at length he exclaimed—
"I feel I have indeed been wrong, dear aunt; but what can I do to prove to Robert I am really sorry for having treated him so ill?"
"Are you really sorry, Edward, or do you only say this for fear of your uncle's displeasure?"
"Indeed, I had quite forgotten him," replied Edward, earnestly; "I deserve his anger, and would willingly expose myself to it, if it would redeem my fault."
"I would rather see you endeavor earnestly to restrain your passions my dear boy, than inflict any such pain upon you. It will be a great pleasure to me if you can really so conquer yourself as to apologize to Robert; and I think the pain of so doing will enable you more easily to remember all we have been saying, than if you weakly shrink from it. The life you have chosen makes me even more anxious that you should become less passionate—than were you to remain longer with me; I fear you will so often suffer seriously from it."
"I very often make resolutions never to be in a passion again," returned Edward, sorrowfully; "but whenever any thing provokes me, something seems to come in my throat, and I am compelled to give way."
"You will not be able to conquer your fault, my dear Edward, without great perseverance; but remember, the more difficult the task, the greater the reward; and that you can control anger I have, even during our walk, had a proof."
Edward looked up surprised.
"Did you not feel very angry when I said Robert was your superior?"
"Yes," replied Edward, blushing deeply.