Try you to remember, for I admit that you are more attentive to such details, in case I still owe you replies without knowing it. I can hardly believe I have so speedily discharged tasks I had once reckoned so numerous. Yet I am sure you must have had letters from me, to which I have received no answers.

Never has any of your problems kept me so1 troubled in mind as the remark you made in your last letter, reproaching me for failing to plan how we may live together. A serious charge, and were it not untrue, very threatening to our friendship. But since quite satisfactory reasons seem to show that we can lead our ideal life here better than at Carthage or in the country, I am altogether in doubt how I should deal with you, Nebridius. Am I to send you our most suitable conveyance? Our friend Lucinianus tells me that you can now ride in a sedan chair without any harm. But then your mother comes to my mind: if she cannot endure your absence when you are well, she will endure it much less when you are ill. Am I to come to you myself? But there are people here who cannot come with me and whom I think it criminal to leave behind. For you can be happily at home with your own mind, while these others are only striving towards that attainment. Am I to make frequent journeys back and forward, living with you part of the time and the other part with them? But that is neither living together nor living the ideal life. The