t of
the town in which acquaintances might hear of her, for her business had
to be kept secret. A necessary letter despatched to Mrs. Mapper at The
Chestnuts, she went once more to Bank Street and met her friend Dr.
Lambe.

She told him, in general terms, all she knew of the circumstances which
might have led to Thyrza's illness. At first she had been in doubt
whether or not to go to Lambeth and see Lydia Trent, but on the whole
it seemed better to take no steps in that direction for the present.
Should the case be declared dangerous, Lydia of course must be sent
for, but that was a dark possibility from which her thoughts willingly
averted themselves. The sister could doubtless throw some light on
Thyrza's strange calamity. What did the child's 'You know you promised
me' mean? But that would be no aid to the physician, upon whom for the
present most depended. Nor did Dr. Lambe exhibit much curiosity. He
seemed quickly to gather all it was really necessary for him to know,
and, though he admitted that the disorder was likely to be troublesome,
he gave an assurance that there was no occasion for alarm.

'You are not associated in her mind with anything distressing?' he
asked of Mrs. Ormonde.

'I believe, the opposite.'

'Good. Then be by her side as often as you can, so that she may
recognise you as soon as possible.' He added with a smile: 'I needn't
inform Mrs. Ormonde how to behave when she _is_ recognised!'

They were at a little distance from the bed, and both looked at the
unconscious face.

'A very beautiful girl,' the doctor murmured.

'But you should see her in health.'

'No. I am a trifle susceptible. Well, well, we shall have her through
it, no doubt.'

We have to jest a little in the presence of suffering, or how should we
live our lives?

The recognition came late on the following afternoon. Thyrza had lain
for a time with eyes open, watching the movements of the nurse, but
seemingly with no desire to speak. Then Mrs. Ormonde came in. The
watchful look at once turned upon her; for a moment that former fear
showed itself, and Thyrza made an effort to rise from the pillow. Her
strength was too far wasted. But as Mrs. Ormonde drew near, she was
plainly known.

'Thyrza, you know me now?'

'Mrs. Ormonde,' was whispered, still with look of alarm and troubled
inability to comprehend.

'You have been ill, dear, and I have come to sit with you,' the other
went on, in a soothing voice. 'Shall I stay