'So it is, so it is. Me an' my wife took the little 'uns to the
'Orspital. He knew 'em, did poor Mat, but he couldn't speak. What a
face he had! Thyrza was frighted and cried; Lyddy just held on hard
to my hand, but she didn't cry. I don't remember to a' seen Lyddy
cry more than two or three times in my life; she always hid away for
that, when she couldn't help herself. bless her!'

'Lydia grows more an' more like her father,' said Mrs. Bower.

'She does, ma'am, she does. I used to say as she was like him, when
she sat in my shop of a night and watched the people in and out. Her
eyes was so bright-looking, just like Mat's. Eh, there wasn't much
as the little 'un didn't see. One day--how my wife did laugh!--she
looks at me for a long time, an' then she says: "How is it, Mr.
Boddy," she says, "as you've got one eyelid lower than the other?"
It's true as I have a bit of a droop in the right eye, but it's not
so much as any one 'ud notice it at once. I can hear her say that as
if it was in this room. An' she stood before me, a little thing that
high. I didn't think she'd be so tall. She growed wonderful from
twelve to sixteen. It's me has to look up to her now.'

A customer entered the shop, and Mrs. Bower went out.

'I don't think Thyrza's as much a favourite with any one as her
sister,' said Ackroyd, looking at Mary Bower, who had been silent
all this time.

'Oh, I like her very much,' was the reply. 'But there's something--
I don't think she's as easy to understand as Lydia. Still, I