'A very beautiful girl,' the doctor murmured.
'But you should see her in health.'
'No. I am a trifle susceptible. Well, well, we shall have her through it, no doubt.'
We have to jest a little in the presence of suffering, or how should we live our lives?
The recognition came late on the following afternoon. Thyrza had lain for a time with eyes open, watching the movements of the nurse, but seemingly with no desire to speak. Then Mrs. Ormonde came in. The watchful look at once turned upon her; for a moment that former fear showed itself, and Thyrza made an effort to rise from the pillow. Her strength was too far wasted. But as Mrs. Ormonde drew near, she was plainly known.
'Thyrza, you know me now?'
'Mrs. Ormonde,' was whispered, still with look of alarm and troubled inability to comprehend.
'You have been ill, dear, and I have come to sit with you,' the other went on, in a soothing voice. 'Shall I stay?'
There was no answer for a little, then Thyrza, with sudden revival of memory like a light kindled in her eyes, said painfully:
'Lyddy?—does Lyddy know?'