The sisters did not come home together from their work, Lydia had an engagement with Mrs. Isaacs, of whom we have heard, and went to snatch a pretence of a dinner in a little shop to which she resorted when there was need.  Thyrza, leaving the work-room at half-past one, did not take the direct way to Walnut Tree Walk; the sun and the keen air filled her with a spirit of glad life, and a thought that it would be nice to see how her future home looked under the bright sky came to her temptingly.  The distance was not great; she soon came to Brook Street and, with some timidity, turned up the narrow passage, meaning to get a glimpse of the house and run away again.  But just as she reached the entrance to the rear-yard, she found herself face to face with someone whom she at once knew for the caretaker whom Gilbert had described to her.  The old woman’s eye held her.  She was half frightened, yet in a moment found words.

‘Please,’ she said—­it seemed to her the only way of explaining her intrusion—­’is there any one in the school now?’

The old woman examined her, coldly, searchingly.

‘No, there ain’t,’ she replied.  ‘Is it you as is a-goin’ to live here?’

This was something like witchcraft to Thyrza.

‘Yes, I am,’ fell from her lips.

’All right.  You can go in and look about.  I ain’t get nothink to hide away.’

Thyrza was in astonishment, and a little afraid.  Yet she dearly wished to see the interior of the house.  The old woman turned, and she followed her.

‘There ain’t no need for me to go draggin’ about with you,’ said the caretaker, when they were within the door.  ‘I’ve plenty o’ work o’ my own to see to.’

‘May I look into the rooms, then?’

‘Didn’t I say as you could?  What need o’ so many words?’

Thyrza hesitated; but, the old creature having begun to beat a door-mat, she resolved to go forward boldly.  She peeped into all the cheerless chambers, then returned to the door.

‘Don’t you want to see the school-rooms?’ the old woman asked.  ’Go along that passage, and mind the step at the end.’

Thyrza was bolder now.  The aspect of the house had not depressed her, for she knew that it was to be thoroughly repaired and furnished, and she was predisposed to like everything she saw.  It would be her home, hers and Lyddy’s; the dignity of occupying a whole house would have compensated for many little discomforts.  Thanking the old woman for her direction she went along the dark passage, and came into the large school-room.  And this was to be filled with books!  She looked at the maps and diagrams for a few moments; though it was so bright a day, the place still kept much of its chill and gloom.  Gilbert had told her of the rooms up above, and she thought she might as well complete her knowledge of the building by seeing them.  At the first landing on the staircase she came to a window by which the sun streamed in brilliantly:  the rays gladdened her.  It was nice that the old woman had remained behind; the sense of being quite alone, together with the sudden radiance, affected her with a desire to utter her happiness, and as she went on she sang in a sweet undertone, sang without words, pure music of her heart.