And I
think it's just as absurd to talk of making yourself forgive, if
forgiveness means feeling really kindly and comfortable as you did
before. The very case in which I am most sure you are right about
self-control is one of the worst the other way. I ought to be ashamed
to speak of it--but I mean the hatchet-quarrel. If I had been very
good instead of very wicked, and had restrained myself when Philip
pulled all my work to pieces, and jeered at me for being miserable, I
_couldn't_ have loved him again as I did before. Forgive and forget!
One would often be very glad to. I have often awoke in the morning and
known that I had forgotten something disagreeable, and when it did
come back I was sorry; but one's memory isn't made of slate, or one's
heart either, that one can take a wet sponge and make it clean. Oh
dear! I wonder why ill-tempered people are allowed to live! They ought
to be smothered in their cradles."
Aunt Isobel was about to reply, but I interrupted her.
"Don't think me humble-minded, Aunt Isobel, for I'm not. Sometimes I
feel inclined to think that ill-tempered people have more sense of
justice and of the strict rights and wrongs of things--at least if
they are not very bad," I interpolated, thinking of Mr.
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