Lydia went to see him on Sunday afternoon.  The bright day suggested to her that she should take him out for a walk.  She had waited until Mary would be away at the school.  Mr. Bower lay on the sofa snoring:  the after-smell of roast beef and cabbage was heavy in the air of the room.  Mrs. Bower would have also slept but for the necessity of having an eye to the shop, which was open on Sunday as on other days; her drowsiness made her irritable, and she only muttered as Lydia went through to the staircase.  Lydia had come this way for the sake of appearances; she resolved that on the next occasion she would ring Mr. Boddy’s bell at the side door.  Upstairs, the old man was reading his thumbed Bible.  He never went to a place of worship, but read the Bible on Sunday without fail.

He was delighted to go out into the sunshine.

‘And when did the little one get back?’ he asked, as he drew out his overcoat—­the Christmas gift—­from a drawer in which it was carefully folded.

’Why, what do you think?  She won’t be back till tomorrow.  Yesterday, when I got back from work, there was a telegraph waiting for me.  It was from the lady at Eastbourne, Mrs. Ormonde, and just said she was going to keep Thyrza till Monday, because it would do her good.  How she will be enjoying herself!

They left the house by the private door and went in the direction of the river.  Lydia ordinarily walked at a good pace; now she accommodated her steps to those of her companion.  Her tall shapely figure made that of the old man look very decrepit.  When he had anything of importance to say, Mr. Boddy came to a stand, and Lydia would bend a little forward, listening to him so attentively that she was quite unaware of the glances of those who passed by.  So they got to the foot of Lambeth Bridge.

‘We mustn’t go too far,’ Lydia said, ’or you’ll be tired, grandad.  Suppose we walk a little way along the Embankment.  It’s too cold, I’m afraid, to sit down.  But isn’t it nice to have sunshine?  How that child must be enjoying herself, to be sure!  She was almost crazy yesterday morning before she got off; I’m certain she didn’t sleep not two hours in the night.  It’s very kind of that lady to keep her, isn’t it?  But everybody is kind to Thyrza, they can’t help being.’

’No more they can, Lyddy; no more they can.  But there’s somebody else as I want to see enjoying herself a little.  When ’ll your turn come for a bit of a holiday, my dear?  You work year in year out, and you’re so quiet over it any one ’ud forget as you wanted a rest just like other people.’

’We shall see, grandad.  Wait till the summer comes, and Thyrza’s well settled down, and then who knows but you and me may run away together for a day at the seaside!  I’m going to be rich, because they won’t let me pay anything for my room.  We’ll keep that as a secret to ourselves.’