cising your judgment on your own account: And I had been happy, as well as you!—Was it my fault, I pray you, that it was not so?—O how she rav'd!
To be so ready to give, Bella, and so loth to take, is not very fair in you.
The poor Bella descended to call names.
Why, sifter, said I, you are as angry, as if there were more in the hint, than possibly might be designed. My wish is sincere, for both our sakes!—for the whole family's sake!—And what (good now) is there in it?—Do not, do not, dear Bella, give me cause to suspect, that I have found a reason for your unsisterly behaviour to me; and which till now was wholly unaccountable from sister to sister—
Fie, fie, Miss Clary! said my aunt.
My sister was more and more outrageous.
O how much fitter, said I, to be a jest, than a jester! But now, Bella, turn the glass to you, and see how poorly fits the robe upon your own shoulders, which you have been so unmercifully fixing upon mine!
Fie, fie, Miss Clary! repeated my aunt.
And fie, fie, likewise, good Madam, to Miss Harlowe, you would say, were you to have heard her barbarous insults upon me!
Let us go, Madam, said my sister, with great violence; let us leave the creature to swell till the bursts with her own poison.—The last time I will ever come near her, in the mind I am in!
It is so easy a thing, return'd I, were I to be mean enough to follow an example that is so censureable in the setter of it, to vanquish such a teazing spirit as yours, with its own blunt weapons, that I am amaz'd you will provoke me!—Yet, Bella, since you will go (for the had hurry'd to the door), for me: you. And you a to do so, both from eldership, and the offence so studiously given to one in affliction.—But may you be happy, tho' I never shall!—May you never have half
