To-night—­Friday—­he was going to Grail’s.  Of course no ceremonious preparation was necessary, yet he wasted a couple of hours previous to his time for setting forth.  He could not apply himself to anything; he paced his room.  Indeed, he had paced his room much of late.  Week by week he seemed to have grown more unsettled in mind.  He had said to himself that all would be well when he had seen Annabel.  He had seen her, and his trouble was graver than before.

At the hour when Egremont set out for Lambeth Lydia was busy dressing her sister’s hair.  Perhaps such a thing had never happened before, as that Thyrza’s hair should have needed doing twice in one day.  She had begged it this evening.

’You won’t mind, Lyddy?  I feel it’s rough, and I think I ought to look nice—­don’t you?’

‘You’re a vain little thing!’

‘I don’t think I am, Lyddy.  It’s only natural.’

A moment or two, and Thyrza said: 

‘Lyddy, I think you ought to come down as well.’

‘I’ve told you that I shan’t, so do have done!’

‘Well, dear, it’s only because I want you to see Mr. Egremont.’

’I’ve seen him, and that’s enough.  If you’re going to be a lady and make friends with grand people, that’s no reason why I should.’

‘You’ll have to some day.’

‘I don’t think I shall,’ said Lydia, as she began the braiding.  ’You and me are very different, dear.  I shall go on in my own way. Do keep still! How am I to tie this ribbon?’

‘Kiss me, Lyddy!  Say that you love me!’

‘I don’t think I shall.’

‘Lyddy, dear.’

It was said so gravely that Lydia, having finished her task, came round before the chair and looked in her sister’s face.

‘What?’

‘I think I should die if I hadn’t someone to love me.’

‘I don’t think you’ll ever want that, Thyrza.’

The other drew a profound sigh, so profound that it left her bosom trembling.  And for a few moments she sat in a dream.

Then she proceeded to change her dress and make ready for her formal appearance downstairs on the occasion of Egremont’s visit.  She had never been so anxious to look well.  Lydia affected much impatience with her, but in truth was profoundly happy in her sister’s happiness.  She looked often at the beautiful face, and thought how proud Gilbert must be.

‘Do you think I ought to shake hands with Mr. Egremont?’ Thyrza asked.

‘If he offers to, you must,’ was Lydia’s opinion.  ’But not if he doesn’t.’

‘He did when he said good-bye at the school.’

Before long they heard the expected double knock at the house-door.  They had left their own door ajar that they might not miss this signal.  Thyrza sprang to the head of the stairs and listened.  She heard Gilbert admit his visitor, and she heard the latter’s voice.  It was now a month since the meeting at the school, but the voice sounded so exactly as she expected that it brought back every detail of that often-recalled interview, and made her heart throb with excitement.