I remark, in reply, that your regret at what you have long seen to be unworthy conduct need no longer disturb you on the lady's account, she having now married somebody else." "Yes," said Valentine, sighing restlessly.
"And," John went on, looking intently at him, "on your own account I think you need not at all regret that you had no chance of going and humbly offering yourself to her again, for I feel certain that she would have considered it insulting her to suppose she could possibly overlook such a slight.

Let me speak plainly, and say that she could have regarded such a thing in no other light." Then, giving him time to think over these words, which evidently impressed him, John presently went on, "It would be ridiculous, however, now, for Dorothea to resent your former conduct, or St.George either.
Of course they will be quite friendly towards you, and you may depend upon it that all this will very soon appear as natural as possible; you'll soon forget your former relation towards your brother's wife; in fact you must." Valentine was silent awhile, but when he did speak he said, "You feel sure, then, that she would have thought such a thing an insult ?" He meant, you feel sure, then, that I should have had no chance even if my brother had not come forward.
"Perfectly sure," answered John with confidence.

"That was a step which, from the hour you made it, you never could have retraced." Here there was another silence; then-- "Well, John, if you think so," said the poor fellow--"this was rather a sudden blow to me, though." John pitied him; he had made a great fool of himself, and he was smarting for it keenly.

His handsome young face was very pale, but John was helping him to recollect his better self, and he knew it.

"I shall not allude to this any more," he continued.
"I'm very glad to hear you say so," said John.
"I came partly to say--to tell you that now I am better, quite well, in fact, I cannot live at home any longer.