Gowing called to me across the gate, and said: "We shan't be a
minute." I waited for them the best part of an hour. When they
appeared they were all in most excellent spirits, and the only one
who made an effort to apologise was Mr. Stillbrook, who said to me:
"It was very rough on you to be kept waiting, but we had another
spin for S. and B.'s." I walked home in silence; I couldn't speak
to them. I felt very dull all the evening, but deemed it advisable
NOT to say anything to Carrie about the matter.

April 16.--After business, set to work in the garden. When it got
dark I wrote to Cummings and Gowing (who neither called, for a
wonder; perhaps they were ashamed of themselves) about yesterday's
adventure at "The Cow and Hedge." Afterwards made up my mind not
to write YET.

April 17.--Thought I would write a kind little note to Gowing and
Cummings about last Sunday, and warning them against Mr.
Stillbrook. Afterwards, thinking the matter over, tore up the
letters and determined not to WRITE at all, but to SPEAK quietly to
them. Dumfounded at receiving a sharp letter from Cummings, saying
that both he and Gowing had been waiting for an explanation of MY
(mind you, MY) extraordinary conduct coming home on Sunday. At
last I wrote: "I thought I was the aggrieved party; but as I
freely forgive you, you--feeling yourself aggrieved--should bestow
forgiveness on me." I have copied this verbatim in the diary,
because I think it is one of the most perfect and thoughtful
sentences I have ever written. I posted the letter, but in my own
heart I felt I was actually apologising for having been insulted.