"Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met and never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted."


Ideal love does not ask conventional recognition. Love is not comfort,
nor house, nor lands, nor the tame delights of use and wont. Love is
sacrifice. Always ask love to pour out its gifts upon the altar of
sacrifice. This is to make love divine. But fill the cup of love with
comfort, and certainty, and calm days of ease, and you make it poor and
cheap. The zest of love is uncertainty. When love has to breast the
Hellespont it feels its most impassioned thrill. Let there be distance,
and danger, and separation and tears in love. Let there be dull
certainty, and custom stales its dearest delights.

Love is worthiest when it asks no requital. Minnie knew that all was
over. She received short notes from Donald from time to time, and the
newspapers kept her informed of the progress of events. She clearly
perceived that if Donald did not give himself up, one of the two things
must happen--he would either be killed himself by the police, or he
would kill one or more of his pursuers, with the certainty of being
ultimately caught, and probably hung. In her letters she implored him to
give himself up, and not further incense the Government, which was not
disposed to be implacable. Finding all her entreaties unavailing, she
determined to visit him. This was a bold resolution. It was carried out
without hesitation. A more sophisticated nature would have asked--"Will
this seem modest?" Modesty itself never asks such a question. Modesty is
not conscious. There is no blush on its cheek. Minnie believed that if
she could see Donald, she could persuade him to give himself up.