“You’ve got a new hat!” she exclaimed.
“Yes; Steve saw it in a shop in Brighton and bought it for me.”
“Lork!” cried Mrs. Beatup.
“But it aun’t your usual style,” said Ivy; “you most-ways wear ’em more quiet-like. I’ve seen many of that sort of hat come on the tram, and it’s generally what the boys call a tart.”
Nell flushed and looked away.
“We’ve got Thyrza here,” said Mrs. Beatup. “She came up this morning afore the rain started, and we’re kipping her till it’s a done—fust time she’s bin out, and I’m justabout fritted lest she taakes cold.”
“Has she got the baby with her?”
“Surelye.... Here’s Nell, Thyrza, come up in a cab from the station, and her husband’s guv her a new hat.”
Thyrza’s eyes opened big in wonder. She sat by the fire, with her child in her arms; she was pale, but seemed plump and healthy, and her eyes had an eager, yearning look which was new to them. Nell kissed her and the baby, and sat down by the hearth with a little shiver.