She has not stirred again, in the matter of my education.

We only meet at meal-times; and she receives me, when I sit down at table, as she might receive a perfect stranger.

Her icy civility is unendurable.

And this woman is my darling Ovid's mother! "Have I done with my troubles now?
No, Teresa; not even yet.

Oh, how I wish I was with you in Italy! "Your letters persist in telling me that I am deluded in believing Miss Minerva to be truly my friend.