On looking in at the eating-house before going to her hotel for the night, she found the patient feverish and excited.
'She has been asking for you ever since you went away,' whispered the nurse.
Thyrza inquired anxiously, as if the thought were newly come to her: 'How did you know where I was, Mrs.Ormonde ?' 'Mrs.Gandle found my name and address in your pocket, and wrote to me.' 'In my pocket?
Why should she look in my pocket ?' 'She was anxious to have a friend come to you, Thyrza.' 'Does any one else know?
Lyddy doesn't--nor anybody ?' 'Nobody.' 'Yes, it was in my pocket.

I kept it from that time when I went to--to--oh, I can't remember!' 'To Eastbourne, dear.' 'Yes--Eastbourne!' The only way of quieting her was for Mrs.Ormonde to sit holding her hand.

It was nearly dawn when the fit of fever was allayed and sleep came.
A week passed before it was possible to think of removing her from these miserable quarters to the other room which awaited her.

Mrs.
Ormonde's presence had doubtless been a great aid to the sufferer in her struggle with intermittent fever and mental pain.

As Thyrza recovered her power of continuous thought, she showed less disposition to talk; the trouble which still hung above her seemed to impose silence.