'I hope,' Egremont said, turning to Gilbert as he stirred his tea, 'that we shall get our first books on the shelves by the first day of next month.'

Grail made no reply, and all were silent for a little.

The visitor did not remain much longer. To the end he was animated in his talk, making his friends feel as much at their ease as he was himself. When he was about to depart, he said to Thyrza:

'I hope you will have a fine day to-morrow. There is promise of it.'

'Oh, I think it'll be fine,' she replied. 'It would be too cruel if it wasn't!'

Surely--thought Egremont as he smiled--to you if to any one the sky should show a glad face. How many a time thereafter did he think of those words--'It would be too cruel!' She could not believe that fortune would be unkind to her; she had faith in the undiscovered day.

CHAPTER XVI

SEA MUSIC

Returning to the upper room, Thyrza sat down as if she were very tired.

'No, I don't want anything to eat,' she said to Lydia. 'I shall go to bed at once. We must be up very early in the morning.'

Still she made no preparations. Her mirth and excitement were at an end. Her eyelids drooped heavily, and one of her hands hung down by the side of the chair. Lydia showed no extreme desire for an account of the proceedings below. Yes, Thyrza said, she had enjoyed herself. And presently:

'Mr. Egremont says he wants to begin putting up the books by the first of May.'

'Did he say when the house would be ready?'

Thyrza shook her head. Then:

'He told us about foreign countries. He's been everywhere.'

'Gilbert told me he had been to America.'

'Lyddy, is Canada the same as America?'

'I believe it is,' said the other doubtfully. 'I think it is a part.

America's a very big country, you know.'

'What do you think Gilbert says? He says Mr. Ackroyd told him last night that he was going to Canada.'

Lydia gave no sign of special interest.

'Is he?'

'I don't think he means it.'

'Perhaps he'll take Totty Nancarrow with him,' remarked Lydia, with a scarcely noticeable touch of irony.

The other did not reply, but she looked pained. Then Lydia declared that she too was weary. They talked little more, though it was a long time before either got to sleep.

Thyrza saw Grail in the breakfast hour next morning, and received his advice for the day. Bunce had already conveyed the little box of Bessie's clothing to the hospital; thence Thyrza and the child would go in a cab to Victoria.

She was at the hospital by nine o'clock. Bessie, a weakly, coughing child, who seemingly had but a short term of suffering before her, was at first very reticent with Thyrza, but when they were seated together in the train at Victoria, she brightened in the expectation of renewing her experiences of Mrs. Ormonde's home, and at length talked freely.

Bessie was very old; she had long known the difficulties of a pinched home, and of her own ailments she spoke with a curious gravity as little child-like as could be.

'It's my chest as is weak,' she said. 'The nurse says it'll get stronger as I get older, but it's my belief that it's just the other way about. You never had a weak chest, had you, Miss Trent? You haven't that look. I dessay you're always well; I shouldn't mind if I was the same.' She laughed, and made herself cough. 'I can't see why everybody shouldn't be well. Father says the world's made wrong, and it seems to me that's the truth. Perhaps it looks different to you, Miss Trent.'

'You had better call me Thyrza, Bessie. That's my name.'

'Is it? Well, I don't mind, if _you_ don't. I never knew anybody called Thyrza. But I dessay it's a lady's name. You're a lady, ain't you?'

'No, I'm not a lady. I go to work with Miss Nancarrow. You know her?'

'I can't say as I know her. She lives in the next room to us, but we don't often speak. But I remember now; I've seen yea on the stairs.'

'Miss Nancarrow has made friends with your brother and sister whilst you've been in the hospital.'

'Have she now! They didn't tell me about that when they come to see me last time. I suppose things is all upside down. By rights I'd ought to have gone home for a day or two, just to see that the room was clean.

Mrs. Larrop comes in wunst a week, you know, she's a charwoman. But I haven't much trust in her; she's such a one for cat-licking. The children do make such a mess; I always tell them they'd think twice about coming in with dirty shoes if only they had the cleaning to see after.'

Then she began to talk of Mrs. Ormonde, and Thyrza encouraged her to tell all she could about that lady.

'I tell you what, Thyrza,' said Bessie, confidentially, 'when Nelly gets old enough to keep things straight and look after father, do you know what I shall do? I mean to go to Mrs. Ormonde and ask to be took on for a housemaid. That's just what 'ud suit me. My chest ain't so bad when I'm there, and I'd rather be one of Mrs. Ormonde's servants than work anywhere else. But then I perhaps shan't live long enough for that. It's a great thing for carrying people off, is a weak chest.'

Both grew excited as the train neared their destination. Bessie recalled the stations, and here and there an object by the way. It was Thyrza who felt herself the child.

The train entered the station. Bessie had her head at the window. She drew it back, exclaiming:

'There's Mrs. Ormonde! See, Thyrza! the lady in black!'

Thyrza looked timidly; that lady's face encouraged her. Mrs. Ormonde had seen Bessie, and was soon at the carriage door.

'So here you are again!' was her kindly greeting. 'Why, Bessie, you must have been spending all your time in growing!'

She kissed the child, whose thin face was coloured with pleasure.

'This is Miss Trent, mum,' said Bessie, pointing to her companion, who had descended to the platform. 'She's been so kind as to take care of me.'

Mrs. Ormonde turned quickly round.

'Miss Trent?' She viewed the girl with surprise which she found it impossible to conceal at once. Then she said to Thyrza: 'Arc you the young lady of whom I have heard as Mr. Grail's friend?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Thyrza replied modestly.

'Then how glad I am to see you! Come, let us get Bessie's box taken to the carriage.'