'It was Mrs. Green's school, you know, and soon after Lizzie began to go, there was an assistant teacher taken on. Now can you think what her name was? You must remember that Lizzie used to walk home along with her almost every day. Miss--, Miss--. Oh, dear me, what _was_ that name?' Gilbert smiled and shook his head. 'I can't help you, mother. I don't even remember any such thing.' 'What a poor memory you have in ordinary things, Gilbert! I wonder at it, with your mind for study.' 'But what's the connection?' 'Why, Thyrza has got her very face. It's just come to me. I'm sure that was her mother.' 'But how impossible that you should have that woman's face still in your mind!' Gilbert protested, good-humouredly. 'My dear, don't be so hasty. It's as clear to me as if Lizzie had just come in and said, "Miss Denny brought me home." Why, there _is_ the name! It fell from my tongue! To be sure; Miss Denny! A pale, sad-looking little thing, she was. Often and often I've been at the window and seen her coming along the street hand in hand with your sister. Now I'll ask Thyrza if her mother's name wasn't Denny, and if she didn't teach at Mrs. Green's school. Depend upon it, I'm right, Gilbert!' Gilbert still smiled very incredulously. 'It'll be a marvellous thing if it turns out to be true,' he said. 'Oh, but I have a wonderful memory for faces. I always used to think there was something very good in that teacher's look. I don't think I ever spoke to her, though she went backwards and forwards past our house in Brook Street for nearly two years. Then I didn't see her any more. Depend upon it, she went away to be married. Lizzie had left a little before that. Oh yes, it explains why I seemed to know Thyrza the first time I saw her.' Mrs. Grail was profoundly satisfied. Again a short silence ensued. 'How nicely they keep themselves!' she resumed, half to herself. 'I'm sure Lydia's one of the most careful girls I ever knew. But Thyrza's my favourite. How she enjoyed your reading, Gilbert!' He nodded, but kept his attention on the book. His mother just glanced at him, and presently continued: 'I do hope she won't be spoilt. She is very pretty, isn't she? But they're not girls for going out much, I can see. And Thyrza's always glad when I ask her to come and have tea with us. I suppose they haven't many friends.' It was quite against Mrs. Grail's wont to interrupt thus when her son had settled down to read. Gilbert averted his eyes from the page, and, after reflecting a little, said: 'Ackroyd knows them.' His mother looked at him closely. He seemed to be absorbed again. 'Does he speak to you about them, Gilbert?' 'He's mentioned them once or twice.' 'Perhaps that's why Lydia goes out to chapel,' the old lady said, with a smile. 'No, I don't think so.' The reply was so abrupt, so nearly impatient, that Mrs. Grail made an end of her remarks. In a little while she too began to read.