If the drawing-room had been a marvel to Thyrza in the daylight, it was yet more so now that she entered it and found two delicately shaded lamps giving a rich uncertainty to all the beautiful forms of furniture and ornaments. She had thought the Grails' parlour luxurious. And the dear old easy-chair, now so familiar to her, how humble it was compared with this in which Mrs. Ormonde seated her! These wonders caused her no envy or uneasy desire. In looking at a glorious altarpiece, one does not feel unhappy because one cannot carry it off from the church and hang it up at home. Thyrza's mood was purely of admiration, and of joy in being deemed worthy to visit such scenes. And all the time she kept saying to herself, 'Another whole day! I shall be by the sea again tomorrow! I shall sleep and wake close by the sea!'
Presently Mrs. Ormonde had to absent herself for a few minutes.
'You heard what the children said about 'good-night.' I always go and see them as soon as they are tucked up in bed. I don't think they'd sleep if I missed.'
The kind office over, she spoke with Mrs. Mapper about the evening's singing.
'Did you know,' the latter asked, 'what a voice Miss Trent has?'
'She sings? I didn't know.'
'I was so delighted that I had to stop singing myself. I'm sure it's a wonderful voice.'
'Indeed! I must ask her to sing to me.'
She found Thyrza turning over the leaves of a volume of photographs. Without speaking, she sat down at the piano, and began to play gently the air of 'Annie Laurie.' Thyrza looked up, and then came nearer.
'You are fond of music?' said Mrs. Ormonde.