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in this manner, and forcing yourself upon my notice, requires a very particular excuse.—What is it, that you mean by it?”—
“I mean”—said he, with serious energy—“if I can, to make you hate me one degree less than you do now. I mean to offer some kind of explanation, some kind of apology, for the past; to open my whole heart to you, and by convincing you, that though I have been always a blockhead, I have not been always a rascal, to obtain something like forgiveness from Ma— from your sister.”
“Is this the real reason of your coming?”
“Upon my soul it is,”—was his answer, with a warmth which brought all the former Willoughby to her remembrance, and in spite of herself made her think him sincere.
“If that is all, you may be satis-
fied
