‘Are you glad you went, Lyddy?’ she asked, in a tired voice.

’I shan’t be glad we any of us went if it’s going to make you ill, Thyrza.’

’I shall be all right to-morrow, I dare say.  I wonder whether Mr. Egremont often goes to concerts?’

‘Very likely.  He can afford it.’

‘I mustn’t go again for a long time.’

She had seated herself on the bed and was undoing the braid of her hair.  She spoke the last words thoughtfully.  In a minute or two the light was out.

Lydia soon fell asleep.  In the very early morning a movement of her sister’s awoke her.  She found that Thyrza was sitting up in the bed.

‘What is it, dear?’ she asked, ‘Lie down and go to sleep.’

’I can’t, Lyddy, I can’t!  I am so tired, and I haven’t closed my eyes.  Keep awake with me a minute, will you?’

Lydia took the sleepless girl in her arms.

‘The music won’t leave me,’ Thyrza moaned.  ’It’s just as if I heard them playing now.’

Lydia nursed her into a fitful sleep.

Though Thyrza had no work to go to, she still always rose together with her sister, and, whilst the latter put the room in order, went down to assist Mrs. Grail in getting the breakfast.  But on the morning after the concert Lydia was glad to see that the head beside her own was weighed down with sleep when the hour for rising had come.  She dressed as quietly as possible, leaving the blind drawn, and descended to say that Thyrza would be a little longer than usual.  Gilbert was in the parlour.

‘Has she slept well?’ he asked.

’Not very well.  She couldn’t get the sound of the music out of her ears.  But she’s fast now.’

‘We shall have to be careful of her, Lyddy,’ Gilbert said, anxiously.

For he had had her face before him all night, with its pale, wearied look of over-excitement.  He knew how delicate a nature it was that he was going to take into his charge, and already his love was at times gently mingled with fear.

Lydia went upstairs again, and softly into the room.  Thyrza had just awoke and was sitting with her hands together upon her face.

‘What time is it?’ she asked.  ’Why did you let me sleep?  Have you been up long?’

Lydia constrained her to lie down again.  She was unwilling at first, but in the end fell back with a sigh of relief.

’What day is it, Lyddy?  Oh, Tuesday, of course.  I suppose the days ’ll go very slow till Saturday.  I’m sure I don’t know what I shall do all the time.’

’Don’t trouble about it now, dear.  Try and sleep a little more, and I’ll bring you up some breakfast just before I go.’

‘That’ll be like when I was poorly, won’t it, Lyddy?’

She lay and laughed quietly.

‘You feel better?’

‘Oh yes.  Is it a fine morning?’

’The pavement’s just drying.

‘Good-night!’