Thyrza still lay on the bed.

When they had exchanged a few words, the latter said: 'I don't think I can go to-night, Lyddy.

My head's bad.' 'Oh, what a pity! Can't we do something to make it better ?' Thyrza turned her face away.
'I'd altered my mind,' Lydia continued.

'I meant to go with you.' 'Really?
You'll go with us ?' Thyrza felt that this would lessen the strange reluctance with which through the afternoon she had thought of the concert.

She at once rose, and consented more cheerfully to try if a cup of tea would help her.
She bathed her forehead, smoothed her hair, and went down.
It was not long before Gilbert entered, he too having come away earlier from work.