A GOLDEN PROSPECT

It wanted a week to Christmas.  For many days the weather had been as bad as it can be even in London.  Windows glimmered at noon with the sickly ray of gas or lamp; the roads were trodden into viscid foulness; all night the droppings of a pestilent rain were doleful upon the roof, and only the change from a black to a yellow sky told that the sun was risen.  No wonder Thyrza was ailing.

It was nothing serious.  The inevitable cold had clung to her and become feverish; it was necessary for her to stay at home for a day or two.  Lydia made her hours of work as short as possible, hastening to get back to her sister.  But fortunately there was a friend always at hand; Mrs. Grail could not have been more anxious about a child of her own.  Her attendance was of the kind which inspires trust; Lydia, always fretting herself into the extreme of nervousness if her dear one lost for a day the wonted health, was thankful she had not to depend on Mrs. Jarmey’s offices.

Thyrza had spent a day in bed, but could now sit by the fire; her chair came from the Grails’ parlour, and was the very one which had always seemed to her so comfortable.  Her wish that Lyddy should sit in it had at length been gratified.

It was seven o’clock on Friday evening.  The table was drawn near to Thyrza’s chair, and Thyrza was engaged in counting out silver coins, which she took from a capacious old purse.  Lydia leaned on the table opposite.

’Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six!  I’m sure I saw a very nice overcoat marked twenty-five shillings, not long ago; but we can’t buy one without knowing grandad’s measure.’

‘Oh, but you know it near enough, I think.’

’Near enough!  But I want it to look nice.  I wonder whether I could take a measure without him knowing it?  If I could manage to get behind him and just measure across the shoulders, I think that ’ud do.’

Thyrza laughed.

’Go now.  He’s sure to be sitting with the Bowers.  Take the tape and try.’

’No, I’ll take a bit of string; then he wouldn’t think anything if he saw it.’

Lydia put on her hat and jacket.

’I’ll be back as soon as ever I can.  Play with the money like a good baby.  You’re sure you’re quite warm?’

Thyrza was wrapped in a large shawl, which hooded over her head.  Lydia had taken incredible pains to stop every possible draught at door and window.  A cheerful fire threw its glow upon the invalid’s face.

’I’m like a toast.  Just look up at the shop next to Mrs. Isaac’s, Lyddy.  There was a sort of brownish coat, with laps over the pockets; it was hanging just by the door.  We must get a few more shillings if it makes all the difference, mustn’t we?’

‘We’ll see.  Good-bye, Blue-eyes.’