‘To Eastbourne, dear.’

‘Yes—­Eastbourne!’

The only way of quieting her was for Mrs. Ormonde to sit holding her hand.  It was nearly dawn when the fit of fever was allayed and sleep came.

A week passed before it was possible to think of removing her from these miserable quarters to the other room which awaited her.  Mrs. Ormonde’s presence had doubtless been a great aid to the sufferer in her struggle with intermittent fever and mental pain.  As Thyrza recovered her power of continuous thought, she showed less disposition to talk; the trouble which still hung above her seemed to impose silence.  She was never quite still save when Mrs. Ormonde sat by her, but at those times she generally kept her face averted, closing her eyes if either of her nurses seemed to watch her.  She asked no questions.  Mrs. Gandle came up occasionally, and to her Thyrza spoke very gently and gratefully.  She asked to see ’Lizabeth, and that damsel made an elaborate toilette for the ceremony of introduction to the transformed sickroom.

‘I don’t believe as she’s a workin’ girl at all,’ ’Lizabeth remarked mysteriously to her mother, afterwards.  ’She’s Mrs. Ormind’s daughter, as has runned away from her ‘ome, an’ that’s the truth of it.’

’Don’t be silly, ’Lizabeth!  Why, there ain’t no more likeness than in that there cabbage!’

‘I don’t care.  That’s what I think, an’ think it I always shall, choose what!’

‘You always was obstinit!’

‘Dessay I was, an’ it’s good as some people is.  It wouldn’t do for us all to think the same way; it ‘ud spoil our appetites.’

One day of the week Mrs. Ormonde spent at Eastbourne.  During her absence from home no letter had come from Egremont; she expected daily to hear from Mrs. Mapper that he had called at The Chestnuts, but nothing was seen of him.  She preferred to keep silence, though her anxiety was constant.  Out of the disparaging rumours which had found ready credence in the circle of the Tyrrells, and the facts which she had under her own eyes, it was not difficult for her to construct a story whereby this catastrophe could be explained without attributing anything more than misfortune to either Egremont or Thyrza.  Her suppositions came very near to the truth.  A natural, inevitable, error was that she imagined a scene of mutual declaration between the two.  She could only conjecture that in some way they had frequently met, with the result which, the characters of both being understood, might have been foreseen.  Possibly Egremont had thrown aside every consideration and had asked Thyrza to abandon Grail for his sake; in that case, it might be that Thyrza had fled from what she regarded as dishonourable selfishness, unable to keep her promise to Grail, alike unable to find her own happiness at his expense.

This was supposing the best.  But, as a woman who knew the world, she could not altogether deny approach to fears which, in speaking with Annabel, she would not glance at.  It was unlike Egremont to pass through a crisis such as this without having recourse to her sympathy, which had so long been to him as that of a mother.  Perhaps he could not speak to her.