Lydia sat with her as long as possible.

Thyrza, as soon as she heard the front door close behind her sister, sprang on to the floor and began to dress with nervous rapidity; her hands were so unsteady that she had all sorts of difficulties with buttons and hooks and eyes.
'Don't trouble with your hair,' Lydia had said.

'I'll do it at dinner-time.' But Thyrza could not obey in this.

She did the plaiting twice over, being dissatisfied with the first result, and even took a new piece of blue ribbon for the ends.
The sun was shining.

That always affected her pleasurably, and this morning, as soon as she was dressed, a gladness altogether without conscious reason made her sing, again the song of the concert.