, 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. Without despairing of herself, Carmina felt that she had done
wisely in writing her answer, while she was still well enough to rival
the cheerful tone of Ovid's letter.

She laid down to rest on the sofa, with the photograph in her hand. No
sense of loneliness oppressed her now; the portrait was the best of
all companions. Outside, the heavy rain pattered; in the room, the busy
clock ticked. She listened lazily, and looked at her lover, and kissed
the faithful image of him--peacefully happy.

The opening of the door was the first little event that disturbed
her. Zo peeped in. Her face was red, her hair was tousled, her fingers
presented inky signs of a recent writing lesson.

"I'm in a rage," she announced; "and so is the Other One."

Carmina called her to the sofa, and tried to find out who this second
angry person might be. "Oh, you know!" Zo answered doggedly. "She rapped
my knuckles. I call her a Beast."

"Hush! you mustn't talk in that way."

"She'll be here directly," Zo proceeded. "You look out! She'd rap _your_
knuckles--only you're too big. If it wasn't raining, I'd run away."
Carmina assumed an air of severity, and entered a serious protest
adapted to her young friend's intelligence. She might as well have
spoken in a foreign language. Zo had another reason to give, besides the
rap on the knuckles, for running away.

"I say!" she resumed--"you know the boy?"

"What boy, dear?"

"He comes round sometimes. He's got a hurdy-gurdy. He's got a monkey. He
grins. He says, _Aha--gimmee--haypenny._ I mean to go to that boy!"

As a confession of Zo's first love, this was irresistible. Carmina burst
out laughing. Zo indignantly claimed a hearing. "I haven't done yet!"
she burst out. "The boy dances. Like this." She cocked her head, and
slapped her thigh, and imitated the boy. "And sometimes he sings!" she
cried with another outburst of admiration.

_"Yah-yah-yah-bellah