here.'

But Thyrza had no appetite. She helped the old lady to clear the table,
then ran upstairs.

It was an unspeakable relief to be alone. She had never known such a
painful feeling of guilt as whilst she sat with Gilbert and Lydia
regarding her. Yet why? Her secret, she tried to assure herself, was
quite innocent, trivial indeed. But why had she been unable to come
straight home? What had held her away, as forcibly as if a hand had
lain upon her?

She moved aimlessly about the room. It was true that these last two
days she had agitated herself with anticipation of the concert, but it
was something quite different which now put confusion into her thought,
and every now and then actually caught her breath. She did not feel
well. She wished Liddy could have remained at home with her this
afternoon, for she had a need of companionship, of a sort of help.
There was Mrs. Grail; but no, she had rather not be with Mrs. Grail
just now.

On the table were a few articles of clothing which Lydia and she had
made during the last fortnight, things she was going to take away with
her. This morning she had given them a few finishing touches of
needlework, now they could be put away. She went to the chest of
drawers. Of the two small drawers at the top, one was hers, one was
Lydia's; the two long ones below were divided in the same way. She drew
one out and turned over the linen. How some young lady about to be
married--Miss Paula Tyrrell, suppose--would have viewed with pitying
astonishment the outfit with which Thyrza was more than content. But
Thyrza had never viewed marriage as an opportunity of enriching her
wardrobe.

Having put her things away, she opened another drawer, and looked over
some of Lydia's belongings. She stroked them lightly, and returned each
carefully to its place, saying to herself, 'Lyddy wants such and such a
thing. She'll have more money to spend on herself soon. And she shall
have a really nice present on her next birthday. Gilbert 'll give me
money to buy it.'

Then she went to the mantel-piece, and played idly with a little
ornament that stood there. The trouble had been lighter for a few
minutes, now it weighed again. Her heart beat irregularly. She leaned
her elbows on the mantel-piece, and covered her face with her hands.
There was a strange heat in her blood, her breath was hot.

Was it raining still? No, the pavement had dried, and there was no very
dark cloud in the sky. She could not si