'And I say the same still, and I always will say it? You're glad when anybody speaks against Mr. Ackroyd, and you'd believe them, whatever they said. I'll never go to chapel again with you, Mary, as long as I live! You're unkind, and it's your chapel-going that makes you so! You'd no business to call me in to tell me things of this kind. After to-day, please don't mention Mr. Ackroyd's name; you know nothing at all about him.'
Without waiting for a reply she left the parlour and went on her way. Mary was rather pale, but she felt convinced of the truth of what she had reported, and she had done her plain duty in drawing the lesson. Whether Lydia would acknowledge that seemed doubtful. The outburst of anger confirmed Mary in strange suspicions which had for some time lurked in her mind.
On Sunday evening Lydia dressed as if to go to chapel, and left the house at the usual hour. She had heard nothing from Mary Bower, and her resentment was yet warm. She did not like to tell Thyrza what had happened, but went out to spend the time as best she could.
Almost as soon as her sister was gone Thyrza paid a little attention to her dress and went downstairs. She knocked at the Grails' parlour; it was Gilbert's voice that answered.
'Isn't Mrs. Grail in?' she asked timidly, looking about the room.
'Yes, she's in, Miss Trent, but she doesn't feel very well. She went to lie down after tea.'
'Oh, I'm sorry.'
She hesitated, just within the door.
'Would you like to go to her room?' Gilbert asked.
'Perhaps she's asleep; I mustn't disturb her. Would you lend me another book, Mr. Grail?'