cognised
him? She hoped he had, but at once hoped that he had not.

There was waiting for an omnibus. Thyrza still had her arm within
Gilbert's; she was unconscious of all the bustle amid which she stood,
unconscious of the pressure with which Gilbert drew her nearer to him.
When at length bidden, she entered the vehicle, and leaned back with
her eyes closed.

How dark and quiet these streets of Lambeth seemed As she passed the
threshold of the house, a sudden chill fell upon her, and she shook.
How sombre the passage was, with its dim lamp suspended against the
wall! Voices seemed strange; when Mrs. Grail welcomed her in the
parlour, she did not recognise the sound.

She could not be persuaded to get to bed immediately. Neither could she
sit still, but walked restlessly about the floor.

'How hot it is!' she complained to Lydia. 'Do you mind if I open the
window just a little?'

'I don't, but I'm afraid it'll give you cold. Now do undress, there's a
dear!'

'Just for a minute.'

She threw the window up, and stood breathing the air. Her thoughts
strayed into the darkness. Had Mr. Egremont gone to the concert just
because she mentioned that she was going? It was not likely, but
perhaps so. When should she see him to speak of it? Would he still be
arranging books the next morning?

'Now, Thyrza, you _must_ shut the window! I shall be angry. Do as I
tell you, and get to bed at once.'

At the voice, Thyrza drew the window down, then turned and stood before
her sister, as if she were going to say something. But she did not
speak.

'Do you feel ill, dear?' Lydia asked, anxiously.

'Not well, Lyddy. Don't get cross with me. I'll go to bed directly.'

She walked again the length of the room, then began to hum an air. It
was the first song of the concert. She took the crumpled programme from
her pocket, and glanced over it. Lydia moved impatiently. Thyrza put
the programme down on the table, and began to loosen her dress.

'Are you glad you went, Lyddy?' she asked, in a tired voice.

'I shan't be glad we any of us went if it's going to make you ill,
Thyrza.'

'I shall be all right to-morrow, I dare say. I wonder whether Mr.
Egremont often goes to concerts?'

'Very likely. He can afford it.'

'I mustn't go again for a long time.'

She had seated herself on the bed and was undoing the braid of her
hair. She spoke the last words thoughtfully. In a minute or two the
light was out.

Lydia soon fell asleep.