for many little discomforts. Thanking the old woman for her
direction she went along the dark passage, and came into the large
school-room. And this was to be filled with books! She looked at the
maps and diagrams for a few moments; though it was so bright a day, the
place still kept much of its chill and gloom. Gilbert had told her of
the rooms up above, and she thought she might as well complete her
knowledge of the building by seeing them. At the first landing on the
staircase she came to a window by which the sun streamed in
brilliantly: the rays gladdened her. It was nice that the old woman had
remained behind; the sense of being quite alone, together with the
sudden radiance, affected her with a desire to utter her happiness, and
as she went on she sang in a sweet undertone, sang without words, pure
music of her heart.

In one of the two rooms above, Egremont happened to be taking certain
measurements. Impatient to get his plans completed in detail, he had
resolved to come for half an hour on this same day which had been
appointed for Grail's visit. Curious as he was to see the woman whom
Grail was about to marry--as yet he knew nothing more of her than her
casually learnt name--delicacy prevented him from using the opportunity
this afternoon would give; the two were to arrive at three o'clock, and
long before that time he would have finished his measuring and be gone.
And now he was making his last notes, when the sound of as sweet a
voice as he had ever heard made him pause and listen. The singer was
approaching; her voice grew a little louder, though still in the
undertone of one who sings but half consciously. He caught a light
footstep, then the door was pushed open.

His hand fell. Even such a face as this would he have desired for her
whose voice had such a charm. Her dress told him her position; the
greater was his wonder at the features, which seemed to him of
faultless delicacy--more than that, of beauty which appealed to him as
never beauty had yet. Thyrza stood in alarm; the murmur had died
instantly upon her lips, and for a moment she met his gaze with
directness. Then her eyes fell; her cheeks recovered with interest the
blood which they had lost. She turned to retreat.

But Egremont stepped rapidly forward, saying the first words that came
to him.

'Pray don't let me be in your way! I'm this moment going--this moment.'

From her singing, he concluded that she was accustomed to be here.
Thyrza