In this way they became very rare, and when they did take place, they were not very satisfactory, for Anna and her grandfather were seldom left alone. She did not, therefore, grow to be any fonder of Back Row, or to associate her visits there with anything pleasant. Indeed, few as they were, she soon began to find them rather irksome, and to be relieved when they were over. This was the only subject on which she was not perfectly confidential to her new friend, Delia, who was now her constant companion, for although Anna went very seldom to Dornton, Mrs Forrest made no objection to their meeting often elsewhere. So Delia would run over to the Vicarage whenever she could spare time, or join Anna in long country rambles, and on these occasions it was she who listened, and Anna who did most of the talking. Delia heard all about her life in London, and how much better she liked the country; all about Aunt Sarah's punctuality, and how difficult it was to go to Dornton; but about the Professor she heard very little. Always on the lookout for slights on his behalf, and jealous for his dignity, she soon began to feel a little sore on his account, and to have a suspicion that Anna's heart was not in the matter. For her own part, she knew that not all the aunts and rules in the world would have kept her from paying him the attention that was his due. As the visits became fewer this feeling increased, and sometimes gave a severity to her manner which Anna found hard to bear, and it finally led to their first disagreement. "Can you come over to church at Dornton with me this evening?" asked Delia one afternoon, as she and Anna met at the stile half-way across the fields. "I should like to," said Anna, readily, "very much indeed, if Aunt Sarah doesn't mind." "I'll walk back with you as far as this afterwards," said Delia. "You would see your grandfather. You've never heard him play the organ yet." "I don't _suppose_ aunt would mind," said Anna, hesitatingly, her fair face flushing a little. "Well," said Delia, "you can run back and ask her. I'll wait for you here. You will just have time." The bells of Saint Mary's church began to sound as she spoke. "Only you must go at once," she added, "or we shall be too late." Still Anna hesitated. She hated the idea of asking Aunt Sarah, and seeing her mouth stiffen into that hard line which was so disagreeable; but it was almost as bad to face Delia, standing there, bolt upright, with her dark eyes fixed so unflinchingly upon her. "I know," she said, appealingly, "that Aunt Sarah _has_ arranged for me to go to Dornton next week." "Oh," said Delia, coldly. "And," pursued Anna, turning away from her companion and stooping to pick a flower, "she does like me, you know, to go to the service at Waverley with her. She says uncle prefers it."