‘And do you think he’ll keep right till Christmas?’
‘That’s a good deal more than I can say, or anybody else.’
‘But you’ll do your best to make him?’
’I don’t know that I shall bother much. It’s his own lookout. I shall know what he means if he goes wrong again.’
‘But—’
‘Well? What?’
‘You hope he’ll keep his promise?’ Thyrza said, bending a little nearer, and dropping her eyes as soon as she had spoken.
‘H’m. Yes. Perhaps I do,’ said Totty, putting her head on one side. And forthwith she began to hum a tune, which however, she checked the next moment, remembering Nelly.
‘But you speak in a queer way, Totty.’
‘So do you, Thyrza. What are you bothering about?’
Again she searched Thyrza’s face, this time with something very curious in her gaze, a kind of suspicion one would have said.
‘I—I like to know about you,’ Thyrza said, with embarrassment.
‘I’ve told you all there is to tell.’
‘But you haven’t told me really whether—Do you,’ she sank her voice still lower, ‘do you love him, Totty?’
A singular flush came and went upon the other girl’s face. She herself was little disposed to use sentimental words, and it was the first time that Thyrza had done so to her. The coarseness she heard from certain of her companions did not abash her, but this word of Thyrza’s seemed to do so strangely. She looked up in a moment. Thyrza’s face was agitated.
‘What does that matter?’ Totty said, in a rather hard voice. And she added, drawing herself up awkwardly, ’You’ve made your own choice, Thyrza.’
For an instant surprise held Thyrza mute; then she exclaimed:
’But, Totty, you don’t think—? I was thinking of you, dear; only of you. You never supposed I—Oh, say you didn’t think that, Totty!’
Totty relaxed her muscles a little. She smiled, shook her head, laughed uneasily.
‘I meant, dear,’ Thyrza continued, ’that I hope you do love him, as you’re going to marry him. I hope you love him very much, and I hope he loves you. I’m sorry I said that. I thought you wouldn’t mind.’
’I don’t mind at all, old dear. If you must know—I like him pretty well.’
’But it ought to be more than that—it ought, Totty—much more than that, dear—’
She was trembling. Totty looked at her in surprise, coldly.
‘Don’t go on like that,’ she said. ’There, you’ve woke the child, of course! Now there’ll be two of you crying. See which can make most noise. Now, Nelly! Well, I call this nice!
At the sound of the child’s voice, Thyrza at once restrained herself and rose from her chair. Totty managed to quieten her little charge, whom she took upon her lap. She did not look at Thyrza.
‘Good-bye, Totty!’ said the latter, holding out her hand.
‘Good-bye!’ Totty returned, but without appearing to notice the hand offered. ‘I hope you’ll be better before next Monday, Thyrza.’