Oh, why do we live! why do we die! I have bitter thoughts sometimes, Frances, like you.

I have read in poetry that death is a fearful thing.

To me, death is a cruel thing,--and it has never seemed so cruel as in these later days, since I have known Ovid.
If my mother had but lived till now, what happiness would have been added to my life and to hers! How Ovid would have loved her--how she would have loved Ovid!" Miss Minerva listened in silence.

It was the silence of true interest and sympathy, while Carmina was speaking of her mother.

When her lover's name became mingled with the remembrances of her childhood--the change came.