APTER X

TEMPTING FORTUNE

Thyrza continued to be far from well. The day-long darkness encouraged
her natural tendency to sad dreaming. When alone, in Lydia's absence at
the work-room, she sometimes had fits of weeping; it was a relief to
shed tears. She could have given no explanation of the sufferings which
found this outlet; her heart lay under a cold weight, that was all she
knew.

Lydia pursued her course with the usual method and contentment, yet, in
these days just before Christmas, with a perceptible falling off in the
animation which was the note of her character. Perhaps she too was
affected by the weather; perhaps she was anxious about Thyrza; one
would have said, however, that she had some trouble distinct from these.

On Christmas Eve she ran round to Paradise Street, to make arrangements
for the next day. Evidently it would not be wise for Thyrza to leave
home; that being the ease, it was decided that Mr. Boddy should come
and have tea with the girls in their own room. Lydia talked over these
things with Mary in the kitchen below the shop, where odours of
Christmas fare were already rife. The parlour was full of noisy people,
amid whom Mr. Bower was holding weighty discourse; the friends had gone
below for privacy.

'So I shall keep the coat till he comes, Lydia said. 'I know Thyrza
would like to see his poor old face when he puts it on. And you might
come round yourself, Mary, just for an hour.'

'I'll see if I can.'

'I suppose you'll have people at night?'

'I don't know, I'm sure. I'd much rather come and sit with you, but
mother may want me.'

Lydia asked:

'Has Mr. Ackroyd been here lately?'

'I haven't seen him. I hope not.'

'Why do you say that, Mary?' asked Lydia impatiently.

'I only say what I think, dear.'

Lydia for once succeeded in choosing wiser silence. But that look which
had no place upon her fair, open countenance came for a moment, a
passing darkness which might be forecast of unhappy things.

At four o'clock on the following afternoon--this Christmas fell on a
Friday--everything was ready in Walnut Tree Walk for Mr. Boddy's
arrival. The overcoat, purchased by Lydia after a vast amount of
comparing and selecting, of deciding and rejecting and redeciding, was
carefully hidden, to be produced at a suitable moment. The bitter
coldness of the day gladdened the girls now that they knew the old man
would go away well wrapped up. This coat had furnished a subject for
m