quarrel, only indifference, or perhaps despisal, separated them, he
began again to despair, and felt himself urged once more to speak.
Seizing therefore an opportunity in such manner that she could not
escape him without attracting very undesirable attention, he began a
talk upon the old basis.

'Wilt thou then forgive me nevermore, Dorothy?', he said humbly.

'For what, Mr. Scuclamore?'

'I mean for offending thee with rude words.'

'Truly I have forgotten them.'

'Then shall we be friends?'

'Nay, that follows not.'

'What quarrel then hast thou with me?'

'I have no quarrel with thee; yet is there one thing I cannot
forgive thee.'

'And what is that, cousin? Believe me I know not. I need but to
know, and I will humble myself.'

'That would serve nothing, for how should I forgive thee for being
unworthy? For such thing there is no forgiveness. Cease thou to be
unworthy, and then is there nothing to forgive. I were an unfriendly
friend, Rowland, did I befriend the man who befriendeth not