Dear love, you must be my wife--not my nurse! There is the thought that gives me self-denial enough to let the Indian go away by himself." Carmina answered this letter as soon as she had read it.
Before the mail could carry her reply to its destination, she well knew that the Indian messenger would be on the way back to his master.

But Ovid had made her so happy that she felt the impulse to write to him at once, as she might have felt the impulse to answer him at once if he had been present and speaking to her.

When the pages were filled, and the letter had been closed and addressed, the effort produced its depressing effect on her spirits.
There now appeared to her a certain wisdom in the loving rapidity of her reply.
Even in the fullness of her joy, she was conscious of an underlying distrust of herself.

Although he refused to admit it, Mr.Null had betrayed a want of faith in the remedy from which he had anticipated such speedy results, by writing another prescription.

He had also added a glass to the daily allowance of wine, which he had thought sufficient thus far.