Lydia moved impatiently.

Thyrza put the programme down on the table, and began to loosen her dress.
'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.