She flew up.

Thyrza rose from a chair and met her.
Not, however, with the outburst of childish rapture which Lydia had anticipated.

Their parts were reversed.

When the elder sister sprang forward, breathless with her haste, unable to utter anything but broken terms of endearment, Thyrza folded her in her arms, and, without a spoken word, kissed her with grave tenderness.

Her cheeks had the most unwonted colour; her eyes gleamed, and as Lydia's caresses continued, glistened with moisture.
'Dear Lyddy!' she murmured.