For a moment Lydia did not speak; the other, laying aside her hat, said: 'I'm sorry I'm so late, Lyddy.' 'Where have you been ?' her sister asked, in a voice which strove to command itself.
Thyrza could not tell the whole truth at once, though she knew it would have to be confessed eventually; indeed, whether or no discovery came from other sources, all would eventually be told of her own free will.
She might fear at the moment, but in the end kept no secret from Lydia.
'I've been about with Totty,' she said, averting her face as she drew off her cotton gloves.
'Yes, you have! You've been singing at a public-house.' Lydia was too upset to note the paleness of Thyrza's face, which at another moment would have elicited anxious question.

She was deeply hurt that Thyrza made so little account of her wishes; jealous of the influence of Totty Nancarrow; stirred with apprehensions as powerful as a mother's.

On the other hand, it was Thyrza's nature to shrink into coldness before angry words.

She suffered intensely when the voice which was of wont so affectionate turned to severity, but she could not excuse herself till the storm was over.

And it was most often from the elder girl that the first words of reconcilement came.
'That's your Totty Nancarrow,' Lydia went on, with no check upon her tongue.