t know. I shall not distrust him again. He would have told
me.'

'Then you had better write.'

'You see that I ought to?'

'Yes, as you promised. But I can't see why you did.'

This form of consent had to suffice, feminine as it was. But Gilbert
knew Lydia well by this time, and no trifling fault could touch his
deep affection and respect for her.

She was very lonely in these days, Lydia. Of her own sex, she had now
no friend, unless it were poor old Mrs. Grail. By changing her place of
employment, she had lost even the satisfaction of being among familiar
faces, and her new work-mates thought her dull. The jokes and gossip of
each morning were things of the past; she plied her needle every moment
of the working day, her thoughts fixed on one unchanging subject. Yes,
for she could not really think even of Ackroyd; he was always, it is
true, a presence in her mind, but there was no more pondering about
him. Every stitch at the lining of a hat meant a fraction of a coin,
and each day's result was to have earned something towards the money
saved for Thyrza's assistance.

With Mary Bower she spoke no longer, not even formal words. That insult
on the miserable night had been a blow Mary could not soon forgive, for
it came just at the moment when, having heard her parents' talk about
Thyrza, she was sincerely anxious to reunite herself to her former
friend and be what comfort to her she might. So now, whenever Lydia
went to see Mr. Boddy, she gave a private signal at the side door, and
the old man descended to admit her. Then, Totty Nancarrow. Strangely,
Lydia could now have been almost friends with Totty; she did not know
why. She met her by chance occasionally, and nodded, or at most spoke a
brief greeting, yet each time she would have liked to stop and talk a
little. Totty had been Thyrza's close friend; that formerly had been a
source of jealous feeling, now it seemed to have become an attraction.
Totty gave looks that were not unkind, but did not make advances; she
was a little ashamed of the way she had behaved when Lydia came to her
for help.

Lydia did not think it necessary to tell Gilbert that she too wanted to
let someone know that there was news from Thyrza. After leaving the
parlour, she ran out to a little shop in Kennington Road and purchased
a sheet of note-paper and an envelope. Writing a letter was by no means
a simple thing to Lyddy; it was after midnight before she had schemed
the sentences--or r