'I had a letter from my brother this morning, as well. He'll have to come to London on business in about a month, he says; so I hope we shall be able to have him stay with us.' 'I hope so.' She spoke mechanically, and then followed a rather long silence. Both were lost in thought. Nor did the conversation renew itself after this, for Thyrza seemed to have no more to tell of her Eastbourne experiences, and Gilbert found it enough to sit near her at times searching her face for the meaning which was new-born in it. She rose at length, and, when they had exchanged a few words with regard to her occupations now that she would remain at home, Thyrza approached him to say good-night. Instead of bending to kiss her at once, he held her hand in both his and said: 'Thyrza, look at me.' She did so. His hands were trembling, and his features worked nervously. 'You have never said you love me,' he continued, just above a whisper. 'Will you say that now?' For an instant she looked down, then raised her eyes again, and breathed: 'I love you, Gilbert.' 'I don't think words were ever spoken that sounded sweeter than those!' She spoke again, with an earnestness unlike anything he had ever seen in her, quite different from that which had inspired similar words when first she pledged herself to him. 'Gilbert, I will try with all my strength to be a good wife to you! I will!' 'And I hope, Thyrza, that the day when I fail in perfect love and kindness to you may be the last of my life!' She raised her face, For the first time he put his arms about her and kissed her passionately. Mrs. Grail said good-night and went downstairs as soon as Thyrza appeared. Thyrza seated herself and pressed a hand against her side; her heart beat painfully. 'Why there!' Lydia exclaimed of a sudden. 'She's left the photographs!' 'What photographs?' Thyrza asked. Lydia took from the table an envelope which contained some dozen cartes-de-visite. They were all the portraits which Mrs. Grail and her son possessed, and the old lady was very fond of looking over them and gossiping about them. She had brought them up to-night because she anticipated an evening of especial intimacy with Lydia. Thyrza held out her hand for them. She knew them all, including the latest addition, which was a photograph of Walter Egremont. Egremont had given it to Grail about three weeks ago; it was two years old. She turned them out upon her lap. 'I think I'd better take them down now, hadn't I?' said Lydia. 'I wouldn't trouble till morning,' Thyrza answered, in a tired voice. Two lay exposed before her: that of Gilbert, taken six years ago, and that of Egremont. Lydia, looking over her shoulder, remarked: 'What a boy Mr. Egremont looks, compared with Gilbert!' Thyrza said nothing. 'Come, dear, put them in the envelope, and let me take them down.' 'Oh, never mind till morning, Lyddy!' The voice was rather impatient.