"He did not keep you waiting above five minutes, and that was my fault not his, as I was employing him; and as for insolence, can you tell me what he said?" Edward hesitated. "I do not remember the exact words, but I know he called me impatient, and if I were, he had no right to tell me so." "Nor did he. I heard all that passed, and I could not help thinking how very far superior was Robert, a poor country youth, to the young gentleman who abused him." The color rose to Edward's temples, but he set his teeth and clenched his hand, to prevent any farther display of anger; and his aunt, after attentively observing him, continued-- "He said that his young master Percy never required impossibilities, and though often impatient never abused him. You heard the word, and feeling you had been so, believed he applied it to yourself." "But in what can he be my superior?" asked Edward, in a low voice, as if still afraid his passion would regain ascendency. "I will answer your question by another, Edward. Suppose any one had used abusive terms toward you, and contemptuously desired you to get out of their sight, how would you have answered?" "I would have struck him to the earth," replied Edward, passionately, and quite forgetting his wished for control. "Neither equal nor superior should dare speak so to me again." "And what prevented Robert acting in the same manner? Do you think he has no feeling?--that he is incapable of such emotions as pain or anger?" Edward stood for a minute quite still and silent. "I did not think any thing about it," he said, at length; "but I certainly supposed I had a right to say what I pleased to one so far beneath me." "And in what is Robert so far beneath you?" "He is a servant, and I am a gentleman in birth, rank--" "Stop, Edward! did you make yourself a gentleman? Is it any credit to you, individually, to be higher in the world, and receive a better education than Robert?" Edward was again silent, and his aunt continued to talk to him so kindly yet so earnestly, that at length he exclaimed-- "I feel I have indeed been wrong, dear aunt; but what can I do to prove to Robert I am really sorry for having treated him so ill?" "Are you really sorry, Edward, or do you only say this for fear of your uncle's displeasure?" "Indeed, I had quite forgotten him," replied Edward, earnestly; "I deserve his anger, and would willingly expose myself to it, if it would redeem my fault." "I would rather see you endeavor earnestly to restrain your passions my dear boy, than inflict any such pain upon you. It will be a great pleasure to me if you can really so conquer yourself as to apologize to Robert; and I think the pain of so doing will enable you more easily to remember all we have been saying, than if you weakly shrink from it. The life you have chosen makes me even more anxious that you should become less passionate--than were you to remain longer with me; I fear you will so often suffer seriously from it."