THYRZA WAITS
'I can't promise, Mrs. Emerson, that my sister will come down and have tea with you. Please don't make any preparations; it's only perhaps.'
Thyrza had looked into the sitting-room to say this late in the evening.
'Oh, but she must!' Clara pleaded. 'Why not, dear? Won't you let me see her at all, then?'
Thyrza closed the door, which she had been holding open, and advanced into the room. She wore a dress of light hue, and had some flowers in her girdle. The past year had added a trifle to her stature; it could not add to her natural grace, but her manner of entering showed that diffidence had been overcome by habit. There was very little now to distinguish her from the young lady who has always walked on carpets.
'You won't mind if I ask you to come up to my room instead, Mrs. Emerson?' she said, standing before the sofa on which Clara sat sewing. 'I don't know that it will be necessary, but, if it should be——'
'Oh, I will gladly come. It's only that I didn't like to think of not making her acquaintance at all.'
'There's no reason why I shouldn't explain it to you,' Thyrza said, holding her hands together. 'My sister has never been with any except working people, and it is quite natural that she should feel a little afraid of meeting strangers. I'm sure she needn't be; but of course I must do what she wishes.'
'But, my dear, surely nobody in the world could be afraid of us! And, as you say, I feel certain that your sister needn't be afraid of any one. I'll come up and see her, and we'll talk a little, and she'll get used to me.'
'Yes. I am so glad she is coming!'