“No, never. It becomes intuition.”
“I think there are times when feeling takes the place of observation.”
“Oh, if you’re getting metaphysical, I’ve done with you! Never would dabble in metaphysics! When people begin to talk of their feelings—”
“I was not going to talk of my feelings,” said I, with a tear in my eye.
“Fine feeling and I shook hands long ago,” said Miss Burt, rapidly. “Deep feeling is quite another thing; and does not betray itself in words. Deep feeling leads to action—fine feeling to inaction; deep feeling is excited for others—fine feeling thinks of itself; deep feeling says,
“‘Life is real, life is earnest’—
fine feeling is ready to lie down and die; deep feeling is a fine, manly fellow—fine feeling is a poor, puling creature.”
“Very good,” said I, hardly knowing whether to laugh or cry; for it really was clever, only I knew it was all meant for a hit at myself.
“Very good, only you won’t let it do you good, hey?” said Miss Burt. “‘Excellent soup for the poor.’ You think the cap would fit Mrs. A. or Mrs. B. very well.”
“No, I was not thinking of Mrs. A., B., or C.”