I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful.
Implacable resentment IS a shade in a character.
But you have chosen your fault well. You are safe from me. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.