‘You’re unkind to-day, Totty.  I wish I hadn’t come in.’

There was no reply to this, so Thyrza said another farewell and left the house.

She got back to her room, and, hopeless of otherwise passing the time till Lydia’s return, lay down on the bed.  Perhaps she could close her eyes for half an hour.  But when she had turned restlessly from one side to the other, there came a knock at the door.  She knew it must be Mrs. Grail, and made no answer.  But the knock was repeated, and the door opened.  Mrs. Grail looked in, and, seeing Thyrza, came to the bedside.

‘Aren’t you well, my dear?’ she asked, gently.

Thyrza made pretence of having just awoke.

‘I thought I’d try and sleep a little,’ she replied, holding her face with one hand.  ‘No, I don’t feel quite well.’

’Lie quiet, then.  I won’t disturb you.  Come down as soon as you’d like some tea.’

It was a weary time till Lydia returned, although she came back nearly half an hour earlier than usual.  Thyrza still lay on the bed.  When they had exchanged a few words, the latter said: 

‘I don’t think I can go to-night, Lyddy.  My head’s bad.’

‘Oh, what a pity!  Can’t we do something to make it better?’

Thyrza turned her face away.

‘I’d altered my mind,’ Lydia continued.  ‘I meant to go with you.’

‘Really?  You’ll go with us?’

Thyrza felt that this would lessen the strange reluctance with which through the afternoon she had thought of the concert.  She at once rose, and consented more cheerfully to try if a cup of tea would help her.  She bathed her forehead, smoothed her hair, and went down.

It was not long before Gilbert entered, he too having come away earlier from work.  In order to get a seat in the gallery of the concert hall, they must be soon at the doors.  Thyrza declared that she felt much better.  Her heavy eyes gave little assurance of this, but something of her eagerness had returned, and for the time she had indeed succeeded in subduing the torment within.

An omnibus took the three into Piccadilly.  They were not too early at the hall, for the accustomed crowd had already begun to assemble.  Thyrza locked her arm in her sister’s, Gilbert standing behind them.  He whispered a word now and then to one or the other, but Thyrza kept silence; her cheeks were flushed; she inspected all the faces about her.  At length, admission was gained and seats secured.

Thyrza sat between the other two, but she still kept her hold on Lydia’s arm, until the latter said laughingly: 

’You’re not afraid of losing me now.  I expect we shall be dreadfully hot here soon.’

She withdrew her hand.  Gilbert began to talk to her.  Had it not been for the circumstances, he must have observed a difference in Thyrza’s manner to him.  She scarcely ever met his look, and when she spoke it was with none of the usual spontaneity.  But she seemed to be absorbed in observation of the people who had begun to seat themselves in other parts of the hall.  The toilettes were a wonder to her.  Lydia, too, they interested very much; she frequently whispered a comment on such as seemed to her ‘nice’ or the contrary.  She could not help trying to think how Thyrza would look if ’dressed like a lady.’