a could now see all that was worthiest
of sympathy and admiration, all that claimed loving submission and
allowance from herself, in the sacrifice to which Miss Minerva had
submitted. How bravely the poor governess had controlled the jealous
misery that tortured her! How nobly she had pronounced Carmina's
friendship for Carmina's sake!

Later in the day, Marceline took the letter to the flower shop, and
placed it herself under the cord of one of the boxes still waiting to be
claimed.

The second letter filled many pages, and occupied the remainder of the
morning.

With the utmost delicacy, but with perfect truthfulness at the same
time, Carmina revealed to her betrothed husband the serious reasons
which had forced her to withdraw herself from his mother's care. Bound
to speak at last in her own defence, she felt that concealments and
compromises would be alike unworthy of Ovid and of herself. What she
had already written to Teresa, she now wrote again--with but one
modification. She expressed herself forbearingly towards Ovid's mother.
The closing words of the letter were worthy of Carmina's gentle, just,
and generous nature.

"You will perhaps say, Why do I only hear now of all that you have
suffered? My love, I have longed to tell you of it! I have even taken
up my pen to begin. But I thought of you, and put it down again. How
selfish, how cruel, to hinder your recovery by causing you sorrow and
suspense to bring you back perhaps to England before your health was
restored! I don't regret the effort that it has cost me to keep silence.
My only sorrow in writing to you is, that I must speak of your mother in
terms which may lower her in her son's estimation."

Joseph brought the luncheon up to Carmina's room.

The mistress was still at her studies; the master had gone to his club.
As for the girls, their only teacher for the present was the teacher
of music. When the ordeal of the lecture and the discussion had been
passed, Mrs. Gallilee threatened to take Miss Minerva's place herself,
until a new governess could be found. For once, Maria and Zo showed a
sisterly similarity in their feelings. It was hard to say which of the
two looked forward to her learned mother's instruction with the greatest
terror.

Carmina heard the pupils at the piano, while she was eating her
luncheon. The profanation of music ceased, when she went into the
bedroom to get ready for her daily drive.

She took her letter, duly closed an