‘Bête. ’ ‘No, no,’ the other lady assured her with a twinkle. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. “I remember it very well indeed. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. I’ve been thinking, you know—I’m not sure that primarily the perception of beauty isn’t just intensity of feeling free from pain; intensity of perception without any tissue destruction.
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