her way, speaking.

'Lydia! Where ever are you going like that?'

It was Mary Bower. Lydia glared at her.

'How dare you speak to me! I hate you!'

And with a wild gesture, almost a blow at the girl, she rushed on.

Totty had just come in from work. Lydia scarcely waited for a reply to
her knock before she burst into the room.

'Totty! Will you help me? Thyrza has left me--gone away. I was out for
half an hour. She left a note for me, to say good-bye. Help me to find
her! Do you know anything? Can you think where she'd go?'

Totty was on her knees, lighting a fire. In her amazement she made no
effort to rise. A lighted piece of paper was in her hand; forgetting
it, she let the flame creep on till it burnt her fingers. Then she
stood up.

'What does she say in the note?' she asked with deliberation.

Lydia opened her hand and spread out the crumpled paper. She was going
to read aloud, but checked herself and looked at the other piteously.

'You know all about it, don't you? Thyrza told you?'

'I suppose I know pretty well,' Totty replied, in the same deliberate
and distant way.

'Has she said anything to you about going away?'

'I don't know as she has.'

'Then look what she's written.'

Totty hesitated, then said:

'Thank you, I'd rather not. It's not my business. If I was you, I'd
speak to Mr. Ackroyd. I know nothing about Thyrza.'

'To Mr. Ackroyd?' exclaimed Lydia. 'But I'm sure she won't see him.
It's you'll hear from her, if anybody does. Can't you think of any
place she'd be likely to go? Hasn't she never said anything in talking?
You wouldn't keep it back, just because you don't like me? It's my
sister--she's all I have; you know she can't look out for herself like
you and me could. And she's been ill since Monday. Won't you help me if
you can, just because I'm in trouble?'

'I'd help you if I could,' replied the other, not unmoved by the
appeal, but still distant. 'I'm quite sure Thyrza won't let me know
where she is. If you take my advice you'll see Mr. Ackroyd.'

In her agitation Lydia could not reflect upon the complicated details
of the case. She never doubted that Totty knew the truth; in this, we
know, Luke had unintentionally deceived her. Perhaps the advice to
consult Ackroyd was good; perhaps he had learned something more since
Wednesday night, something that Totty also knew but did not care to
communicate herself.

'I'll try and find him,' Lydia said. 'But if you do hear any th