Rose, Blanche, and Violet, Volume I by George Henry Lewes

As Cecil was dressing for dinner that day, he asked himself whether he really loved Violet; the answer was a decided negative. He had loved her till that afternoon: but that one fatal incident as completely turned his love into dislike, as it had turned Violet's into scorn. He disliked her, as we dislike those who have humiliated us, or who have witnessed some action which we know must appear contemptible in their eyes, but which we feel is not really so contemptible. He resented her superior courage; called her coarse and unwomanly, reckless and cruel. He remembered her beating Shot on the morning of their first interview, and it now seemed to him, as then, an act of wanton severity. He remembered what her father and mother said of her temper. They were right; she was a devil!

He went down to dinner quite satisfied that she was not at all the woman he should choose.