talking with two or three children.

'I think Bessie can have her old bed, can't she?' she said, after
introducing Thyrza. 'I wonder whether she knows any of our children
now? I dare say Miss Trent would like to rest a little.'

A few words were spoken to the matron apart, and Mrs. Ormonde withdrew.
Half an hour later, Thyrza, after seeing the children and all that
portion of the house which was theirs, was led by Mrs. Mapper to the
drawing-room. The lady of the house was there alone; she invited her
guest to sit down, and began to talk.

'Are you obliged to be home to-night? Couldn't you stay with us till
to-morrow?'

Thyrza checked a movement.

'I promised Mr. Grail to be back before dark,' she said.

'Oh, but that will scarcely leave you any time at all. Is there any
other need for you to return to-day? Suppose I telegraphed to say that
I was keeping you--wouldn't Mr. Grail forgive me?'

'I think I might stay, if I could be back to-morrow by tea-time. I must
go to work on Monday morning.'

Mrs. Ormonde sighed involuntarily. That work, that work: the consumer
of all youth and joy!

'Unfortunately there's no train to-morrow that would help us.'

Thyrza longed to stay; the other could read her face well enough.

'There's an early train on Monday morning,' she continued doubtfully.
'Do you live with parents?'

'Oh, no, ma'am. My parents died a long time ago. I live with my sister.
We two have a room to ourselves; it's in the same house where Mr. Grail
lives: that's how I got to know him.'

'And is your sister older than yourself?'

'Yes, ma'am; four years older. Her name's Lydia. We've always kept
together. When I'm married, she's coming to live with us.'

Mrs. Ormonde listened with ever deepening interest. She formed a
picture of that elder sister. The words 'We've always kept together,'
touched her inexpressibly; they bore so beautiful a meaning on Thyrza's
lips.

'And would your sister Lydia scold me very much if I made you lose your
Monday morning's work?' she asked, smiling.

'Oh, it's always the other way, ma'am. Lyddy's always glad when I get a
holiday. But I never like her to have to go to work alone.'

'Well now, I shall telegraph to Lyddy, and then tomorrow I shall write
a letter to her and beg her to forgive me. If I do so, do you think you
could stay?'

'I--I think so, ma'am.'

'And Mr. Grail?'

'He's just as kind to me as Lyddy is.'

'Then I think we won't be afraid. The telegram