.'

Her voice sank. She began to understand.

'Do you suppose he can take that place from Mr. Egremont after he knows
this, Thyrza?'

Thyrza was mute for a little. Then she said, under her breath:

'He needn't know the reason. He must think it's something else.'

'That's impossible. What a cruel thing it'll be to him! You know how
he's looked forward. And then he loves you; he loves you more than you
think. It will be dreadful! Thyrza, I don't think you'll make poor
Gilbert suffer in that way. You couldn't do that, dear! You know what
love means; have some pity for him!'

'I cant! He shan't know the reason; he shall go to the library just the
same. We'll say it's only put off. I can't marry him on Monday! I'd
sooner kill myself!'

There was a ring of terrible earnestness in the words. Lydia was afraid
to plead any more at present. She affected to admit that there was no
help. Yes, the marriage should be postponed; perhaps that would be a
way.

The hour was late. After her sister's acquiescence Thyrza had fallen
into brooding. She moved constantly. There was fire in her cheeks.

Only a few words were exchanged whilst Lydia undressed and lay down by
her sister. Sleep was impossible to either of them. Yet Thyrza had not
closed her eyes the night before. She was very feverish, could not lie
in one position for more than a few minutes. When neither had spoken
for nearly an hour, she said of a sudden:

'Lyddy, I want you to promise me that you'll never tell Gilbert nor
Mrs. Grail one word of this. I want you to promise.'

'I promise you, dear. How could I think of doing so without your leave?'

There was a pause, then Thyrza resumed:

'I think you'll do as you say. Kiss me, and promise again.'

'I will keep your secret, dearest. I promise you.'

The other sighed deeply, and after that lay still.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE END OF THE DREAM

Gilbert did not go to work next morning. Though Lydia had disguised her
sister's strange condition as well as she could, he knew that something
was being kept from him, and his mind, ever ready to doubt the reality
of the happiness that had been granted him, was at length so beset with
fears that he could no longer pay attention to the day's business. He
rose at the usual time, but with a word at his mother's door made known
his intention not to go out till after breakfast. Having lit a fire in
the parlour, he sat down and tried to read.

He had purposed working till