any an hour of talk between them, and now as they waited they amused
themselves with anticipation of what Mr. Boddy would say, what he would
think, how joyfully he would throw aside that one overcoat he did
possess--a garment really too far gone, and with no pretence of warmth
in it. Thyrza introduced a note of sadness by asking:

'What 'll happen, Lyddy, if he gets that he can't earn any thing?'

'I sometimes think of that,' Lydia replied gravely. 'We couldn't expect
the Bowers to keep him there if he couldn't pay his rent. But I always
hope that we shall be able to find what he needs. It isn't much, poor
grandad! And you see we can always manage to save something, Thyrza.'

'But it wouldn't be enough--nothing like enough for a room and meals,
Lyddy.'

'Oh, we shall find a way Perhaps'--she laughed--'we shall have more
money some day.'

Two rings at the bell on the lower landing announced their visitor's
arrival. Lydia ran downstairs and returned with the old man, whose face
was very red from the raw air. He had a muffler wrapped about his neck,
but the veteran overcoat was left behind, for the simple reason that
Mr. Boddy felt he looked more respectable without it. His threadbare
black suit had been subjected to vigorous brushing, with a little
exercise of the needle here and there. A pair of woollen gloves, long
kept for occasions of ceremony, were the most substantial article of
clothing that he wore. A baize bag, of which Lydia had relieved him,
contained his violin.

'I thought you'd maybe like a little music, my dear,' he said as he
kissed Thyrza. 'It's cheerin' when you don't feel quite the thing. I
doubt you can't sing though.'

'Oh, the cold's all gone,' replied Thyrza. 'We'll see, after tea.'

They made much of him, and it must have been very sweet to the poor old
fellow to be so affectionately tended by these whom he loved as his own
children.

Mary Bower came not long after tea, then Mr. Boddy took out his violin
from the bag and played all the favourite old tunes, those which
brought back their childhood to the two girls. To please Mary, Lydia
asked for a hymn-tune, one she had grown fond of in chapel. Mary began
to sing it, so Lydia got her hymn-book and asked Thyrza to sing with
them. The air was a sweet one, and Thyrza's voice gave it touching
beauty as she sang soft and low. Other hymns followed; Mary Bower fell
into her gentler mood and showed how pleasant she could be when nothing
irritate