The doctor came. He said that no doubt there would have to be an inquest. They left Lydia alone in the room, When it was midway through the winter morning, Mrs. Poole came down and told Luke that the girl wished to speak to him; he would find her in the parlour. She had swollen eyes, but spoke with perfect calmness. 'Mr. Ackroyd, what did he mean? The last thing he said was, 'Mary Bower gave me all I wanted.' I don't know what he meant. Your sister says you'll tell me.' Luke could only guess at the sense of the words, but he told her all he knew. 'I only heard it on Friday night, from Totty,' he said. 'I was thinking of every way I could to help him.' 'Oh, but to think that you never told me!' she exclaimed. 'You'd no right to keep such a thing from me. It wasn't kindness; it wasn't kindness at all, See what's come of it! 'I do wish I had told you.' Early in the afternoon Lydia went home. But before leaving, she searched in the poor old garments to see if; indeed, he had been penniless. The discovery of the money at first astonished her, but immediately after she found the pawn ticket. It was proof enough. She was sitting in her room, at nightfall, when someone knocked. She went to the door. Mary Bower was there. 'May I come in, Lydia?' Mary asked, with eyes downcast. Lydia had started. She drew back, leaving the door open. Mary entered, closed the door behind her, and stood in agitation. 'I know you hate me more than ever, Lydia,' she began, tremulously; 'but I did what I could for him. I want to tell you that I did what I could for him, and I'd never have let mother give him notice. I told her last night that, if she did, I'd leave home. I put food in his room, and nobody knew about it. Perhaps you don't believe me; if he could speak, he'd tell you someone did, and it was me.' Lydia covered her face and wept. Mary, drawing nearer, went on with broken voice: 'I've been very much to blame, Lydia. I've been hard and unforgiving. But that night when you told me you hated me, I wanted to say how sorry I was for you. I never spoke a word against Thyrza, not a word. And now I couldn't help coming to you. I want to be friends again, Lyddy dear. Don't send me away! I've been to blame in everything; I've been bad-hearted. You might well not believe my religion when you saw me acting as I did.' She ceased, drawn to Lydia's heart and kissed with more than the old affection. 'I know what you did for him, Mary. He told me--the last words he spoke. He asked me to be friends with you again. I do want a friend, Mary; I'm very lonely. I'll love you as long as I live for being kind to him.' They lit no light, but sat together by the glow of the fire, speaking in very low voices, often with long intervals of silence. Two poor girls, the one as ignorant as the other, but speaking with awed spirit of death and the hope that is thereafter. CHAPTER XXXII TOTTY'S LUCK