n alone. She did not wish Mrs. Grail to come up to the room.
She said she would go out in the course of the morning, and that would
do her good.

So Lydia went forth reluctantly. At the entrance to the factory she met
Totty Nancarrow. They just gave each other a good-morning. Totty seemed
dull. She did not run up the stairs as usual, but walked with a tired
step.

Lydia, following her, broke her habit, and spoke.

'Thyrza isn't at all well.'

'Isn't she?' said the other, without turning her head, and in a tone of
little interest.

Lydia bit her lip, vexed that she had said anything.

They came into the work-room. There were a number of tables, at which
girls and women were beginning to seat themselves. A portion of the
room was divided off by a glass partition, and within the little office
thus formed sat the fore-woman, surrounded with felt hats, some
finished, some waiting for the needle to line them and put the band on.
Sitting here, she overlooked the workers, some fifty when all were
assembled.

There was much buzzing and tittering and laughing aloud. All belonged
to the class of needlewomen who preserve appearances; many of them were
becomingly dressed, and none betrayed extreme poverty. Probably a
fourth came from homes in which they were not the only wage-earners,
and would not starve if work slackened now and then, having fathers or
brothers to help them. Whether they liked coming to work or not, all
showed much cheerfulness at the commencement of the day. They greeted
each other pleasantly, sometimes affectionately, and not one who lacked
a story of personal incident to be quickly related to a friend whilst
the work was being given out. So much seemed to happen in the hours of
freedom.

Lydia was much quieter than usual. It was not her wont to gossip of her
own affairs, or to pry into the secrets of her acquaintances; but with
the little group of those with whom she was intimate she had generally
some piece of merriment to share, always marked by kindness of feeling.
She was a favourite with the most sensible girls of her own age. Thyrza
had never been exactly a favourite, though some older than herself
always used to pet her, generally causing her annoyance.

About a quarter of an hour had passed, and work was getting into trim,
when a girl, a late arrival, in coming to her place, handed Lydia a
letter.

'Someone downstairs asked me to give it you,' she whispered. 'You
needn't blush, you know.'