"What's that, then? I'm sure _we_ don't wear such things."

She pointed to a chair, on which Thyrza had just artfully spread the
gift. Mr. Boddy looked in a puzzled way; had he really come in his
coat and forgotten it? He drew nearer.

"That's no coat o' mine, Lyddy," he said.

Thyrza broke into a laugh.

"Why, whose is it, then?" she exclaimed. "Don't play tricks, grandad;
put it on at once!"

"Now come, come; you're keeping Mary waiting," said Lydia, catching up
the coat and holding it ready.

Then Mr. Boddy understood. He looked from Lydia to Thyrza with dimmed
eyes.

"I've a good mind never to speak to either of you again," he said in a
tremulous voice. "As if you hadn't need enough of your money! Lyddy,
Lyddy! And you're as had, Thyrza, a grownup woman like you; you ought
to teach your sister better. Why, there; it's no good; I don't know
what to say to you. Now what do you think of this, Mary?"

Lydia still held up the coat, and at length persuaded the old man to
don it. The effect upon his appearance was remarkable; conscious of
it, he held himself more upright and stumped to the little square of
looking-glass to try and regard himself. Here he furtively brushed a