‘You shall, dear.  I’ll sit by you.  You’ll let me stay by you?’

‘Yes.’

As her clothes were removed she shook feverishly.

‘They won’t come up?’ she asked several times.  ’Mrs. Grail won’t come?  Go and tell them I’ve got a headache, and that it’ll be all right in the morning.’

’They won’t come, dear.  Get into bed, and I’ll go and tell them directly.’

She could have wept for misery, but she must be strong for Thyrza’s sake.  Whatever hope remained depended now upon her own self-command and prudence.  When Thyrza had lain down, Lydia succeeded in showing almost a cheerful face.

’I’ll just go down and say you’re poorly.  You won’t move till I come back?’

Thyrza shook her head.

Her sister was only away for a minute or two.  She reentered the room panting with the speed she had made.  And she sat down at the bedside.

There was no word for a long time.  Thyrza’s eyes were closed; her lips quivered every now and then with a faint sob.  The golden braid, which Lydia had not troubled to undo, lay under her cheek.

Lydia held counsel with herself.  Something had happened, something worse, she thought, than a mere fit of wretchedness in the suffering heart.  There was no explaining the disordered state in which the girl had come back.

Gilbert said that he had met Mr. Egremont at the end of Newport Street.  Was it conceivable that Thyrza had had an appointment with Egremont at Totty’s house?  No; that was not to be credited, for many reasons.  Totty—­by Luke’s account—­was angry with Thyrza, and refused to hear anything of what was going on.  Yet it was very strange that he should be going to see Mr. Bunce just at the same time that Thyrza was there, and in Totty’s absence too.

What to think of Mr. Egremont?  There was the central question.  She knew him scarcely at all; had only seen him on that one occasion when she opened the house-door to him, There was Gilbert’s constant praise of him, but Lydia knew enough of the world to understand that Gilbert might very easily err in his judgment of a young man in Egremont’s position.  Ackroyd seemed to have no doubt at all; he had said at once that Egremont deserved to be thrashed.  Clearly he believed the worst of Egremont, attributed to him a deliberate plot.  If he was right, then what might not have befallen?

She had said to herself that she would not dishonour her sister by fearing more than a pardonable weakness.  Now there was a black dread closing in upon her.

How to act with Thyrza?  Must she reveal all that Ackroyd told her, and so compel a confession?

Not that, if it could possibly be avoided.  It would drive Thyrza to despair.  No; it must be kept from her that prying eyes had watched her going and coming.  Already it might be too late; the marriage with Gilbert might he impossible, if only because Thyrza would inevitably betray her love for Egremont; but there was all the future to think of, and Thyrza must not be driven to some irreparable folly.