'Why will you never talk to me, cousin Dorothy?' he said.

'Is it so, Mr. Scudamore? I was not aware. If thou spoke and I
answered not, I am sorry.'

'No, I mean not that,' returned Scudamore. 'But when I venture to
speak, you always make me feel as if I ought not to have spoken.
When I call you COUSIN DOROTHY, you reply with MR. SCUDAMORE.'

'The relation is hardly near enough to justify a less measure of
observance.'

'Our mothers loved each other.'

'They found each other worthy.'

'And you do not find me such?' sighed Scudamore, with a smile meant
to be both humble and bewitching.

'N-n-o. Thou hast not made me desire to hold with thee much
converse.'

'Tell me why, cousin, that I may reform that which offends thee.'

'If a man see not his faults with his own eyes, how shall he see
them with the eyes of another?'

'Wilt thou never love me, Dorothy?--not even a little?'