‘But are you going to stay here, Thyrza?’

’No, dear; I’m going to London.  Mrs. Ormonde is going to send me to some friends of hers.  I’m not allowed to tell you where it is, and you won’t be able to come and see me there; but we shall see each other somewhere sometimes.  You’ll keep it secret?’

‘Then we’re going to be parted always?’ Lydia asked, slowly.

’No, no; not always, dear sister.  Just for a time; oh, not long.  I told Mrs. Ormonde that I knew you’d do as I asked.’

‘Thyrza,’ said the other gravely, ’I broke the other promise.  I showed Gilbert the letter you left for me, and I told him all you’d told me.’

‘Yes,’ Thyrza uttered mechanically.

’It couldn’t be helped.  People had begun to talk, and Gilbert had heard about—­about the library, you know.  Mrs. Bower got to know somehow.’

’Lyddy, I told you all the truth; I told you every word of the truth!’

‘I’m sure you did, Thyrza—­all you knew.’

’Everything!  What did people say about me?  No, I don’t want to hear; don’t tell me.  That’s all over now.  And you couldn’t help telling Gilbert; I understand how it was.  But will you promise me this other thing, Lyddy?’

She raised herself, and looked solemnly into her sister’s face.

’It’ll mean more to me than you think, if you refuse, or if you break your promise.  I don’t think you would do me harm, Lyddy?’

The answer was long in coming.  At last Lydia made inquiry: 

‘Why does Mrs. Ormonde want to hide you?’

Thyrza grew agitated.

’She means it for my good.  She believes she’s doing the best.  She’s been kind to me, and I can’t say a word against her.  I think I ought to do as she wants.  She seems to like me, only—­I can’t tell you how it is, Lyddy; I can’t tell any one; no, not even you!’

‘Don’t worry yourself so, dearest.’

‘Lyddy, you might promise me!’ Thyrza went on, shaken with emotion, one would have said, with fear.  ’I’ve done wrong to you and to Gilbert, but do try and forgive me.  Why are you so quiet?  Haven’t you love enough for me to do just this?’

She stood up, flushed and with wild eyes.

‘Be quiet, Thyrza dearest!’ pleaded her sister.

‘Then answer me, Lyddy I Promise me!’

‘I want to know one thing first.  Have you seen Mr. Egremont?’

’I haven’t spoken to him since that night when I said good-bye to him by the river.  Can’t you believe me?’

‘I don’t think you’d tell me an untruth.’

’If I’d spoken to him, Lyddy, I’d tell you at once; I would!  I’d tell you everything!’

’I must say what I mean, Thyrza; it’s no good doing anything else.  Tell me this:  does Mrs. Ormonde want you to marry him?’

Thyrza laughed strangely.  Then she exclaimed: 

’She doesn’t!  She wouldn’t hear of such a thing, not for the world!  She wants to be kind to me in her own way, but not that; not that!  How you distrust me!  Are you against me, then?  What are you thinking about?  I hoped you would be kind to me in everything.  You don’t look like my Lyddy now.’