Was he going to make trouble, now at the last moment, when everything seemed to have taken the final form?
Since Thyrza's engagement to Gilbert, there was no longer need of subtle self-deceptions, but, though she might now freely think of him, Lydia soon found that Ackroyd was not the same in her eyes.

The first rumours of his abandonment to vulgar dissipation she utterly refused to credit, but before long she had to believe them in spite of herself.
She saw him one night coming out of a public-house, singing a drunken song.

It was a terrible blow to her; she had to question herself much, and to make great efforts to understand a man's nature.

She had thought him incapable of such things.

The vague stories of earlier wildness she had held no account of.