’No.  I am a trifle susceptible.  Well, well, we shall have her through it, no doubt.’

We have to jest a little in the presence of suffering, or how should we live our lives?

The recognition came late on the following afternoon.  Thyrza had lain for a time with eyes open, watching the movements of the nurse, but seemingly with no desire to speak.  Then Mrs. Ormonde came in.  The watchful look at once turned upon her; for a moment that former fear showed itself, and Thyrza made an effort to rise from the pillow.  Her strength was too far wasted.  But as Mrs. Ormonde drew near, she was plainly known.

‘Thyrza, you know me now?’

‘Mrs. Ormonde,’ was whispered, still with look of alarm and troubled inability to comprehend.

‘You have been ill, dear, and I have come to sit with you,’ the other went on, in a soothing voice.  ‘Shall I stay?’

There was no answer for a little, then Thyrza, with sudden revival of memory like a light kindled in her eyes, said painfully: 

‘Lyddy?—­does Lyddy know?’

’Not yet.  Do you wish her to?

‘No!—­Don’t tell Lyddy!—­I shall be better—­’

’No one shall know, Thyrza.  Don’t speak now.  I am going to sit by you.’

Much mental disturbance was evident on the pale face for some time after this, but Thyrza did not speak again, and presently she appeared to sleep.  Mrs. Ormonde left the house at midnight and was back again before nine the next morning.  Thyrza had been perfectly conscious since daybreak, and had several times asked for the absent friend.  She smiled when Mrs. Ormonde came at length and kissed her forehead.

‘Better this morning?’

’Much better, I think, Mrs. Ormonde.  But I can’t lift my arm—­it’s so heavy.’

The doctor came late in the morning.  He was agreeably surprised at the course things were taking.  But Thyrza was forbidden to speak, and for much of the day she relapsed into an apathetic, scarcely conscious state.  Mrs. Ormonde had preferred not to leave her the evening before, and had explained by telegram her failure to keep her appointment with Mrs. Emerson.  To-night she visited her friends by Regent’s Park.  On looking in at the eating-house before going to her hotel for the night, she found the patient feverish and excited.

‘She has been asking for you ever since you went away,’ whispered the nurse.

Thyrza inquired anxiously, as if the thought were newly come to her: 

‘How did you know where I was, Mrs. Ormonde?’

’Mrs. Gandle found my name and address in your pocket, and wrote to me.’

‘In my pocket?  Why should she look in my pocket?’

‘She was anxious to have a friend come to you, Thyrza.’

‘Does any one else know?  Lyddy doesn’t—­nor anybody?’

‘Nobody.’

’Yes, it was in my pocket.  I kept it from that time when I went to—­ to—­oh, I can’t remember!’