"Do you like being at Waverley?" pursued the inquiring Daisy, tilting up the mug so that her brown eyes came just above the rim; "there's no one to play with there, but I s'pose you don't mind. I haven't any brothers and sisters either. There's only me. But then there's all the animals. Do you like animals?" "I think I should very much," answered Anna, "but you can't have many animals in London." "Well," said Daisy, who had now finished the last crumb of bread and the last drop of milk, "if you like, I'll show you my very own calf!" "I'm afraid it's getting late," said Anna, hesitatingly. "'Twon't take you not five minutes altogether," said Daisy, scrambling hastily down from the gate. "Come along." Anna followed her back to the farmyard, where she pushed open the door of a shed, and beckoned her companion in. All was dim and shadowy, and there was a smell of new milk and hay. At first Anna could see nothing, but soon she made out, penned into a corner, a little, brown calf, with a white star on its forehead; it turned its dewy, dark eyes reproachfully upon them as they entered. "You can stroke its nose," said its owner, patronisingly. "Shall you call it Daisy?" asked Anna, reaching over the hurdles to pat the soft, velvety muzzle. "Mother says we mustn't have no more Daisies," said its mistress, shaking her little, round head gravely. "You see puppa called all the cows Daisy, after me, for ever so long. There was Old Daisy, and Young Daisy, and Red Daisy, and White Daisy, and Big Daisy, and Little Daisy, and a whole lot more. So this one is to be called something different. Mother say Stars would be best." As she spoke, a distant clock began to tell out the hour. Anna counted the strokes with anxiety. Actually seven! The dinner hour at Waverley, and whatever haste she made, she must be terribly late. "Ah, I must go," she said, "I ought not to have stayed so long. Good-bye. Thank you." "Come over again," said Daisy, calling after her as she ran to the gate. "Come at milking-time, and I'll show you all the lot." Anna nodded and smiled, and ran off as fast as she could. This was her first transgression at the Vicarage. What would Aunt Sarah say? CHAPTER SIX. DIFFICULTIES. No man can serve two masters. Anna found her life at Waverley bright and pleasant as the time went on, in spite of Aunt Sarah's strict rules and regulations. There was only one matter which did not become easy, and that was her nearer acquaintance with her grandfather. Somehow, when she asked to go to Dornton, there was always a difficulty of some kind--Mrs Forrest could not spare the time to go with her, or the pony-cart to take her, or a maid to walk so far, and she must not go alone. At first, mindful of her resolves, she made efforts to overcome those objections, but being always repulsed, she soon ceased them, and found it easier and far more pleasant to leave her aunt to arrange the visits herself.