From this time Anna's life was very much altered. Gradually, as her interests and amusements became connected with the Palmers and all that went on at their house, she saw less and less of Delia, and it was now Mrs Forrest who had to remind her when a visit to Dornton was due. There were no more country rambles, or meetings at the stile, and no more confidential chats. Anna had other matters to attend to, and if she were not occupied with lessons, there was always some engagement at Pynes which must be kept. And yet, she often thought, with a regretful sigh, there was really no one like Delia! Isabel Palmer was very pleasant, and there was a great deal she enjoyed very much at Pynes, but in her heart she remained true to her first friend. If only it had been possible to please every one! If only Delia would be kind and agreeable when they did meet, instead of looking so cold and proud! By degrees Anna grew to dread seeing her, instead of looking forward to it as one of her greatest pleasures at Waverley. Everything connected with Pynes, on the contrary, was made so easy and pleasant. Aunt Sarah's lips never looked straight and thin when she asked to go there, and Isabel Palmer was sure of a welcome at any time. The pony-cart could nearly always be had if it were wanted in that direction, though it seemed so inconvenient for it to take the road to Dornton. And then, with the Palmers there was no chance of severe looks on the subject of Mr Goodwin. Did they know, Anna wondered, that he was her grandfather? Perhaps not, for they had lived at Pynes only a short time. There was no risk of meeting him there, for Saturday, when he gave Clara a music-lesson, was a specially busy day with Mrs Forrest, and she always wanted Anna at the Vicarage. It was strange that Anna should have come to calling it a "risk" to meet her grandfather, but it was true. Not all at once, but little by little, since her separation from Delia, the habit of dismissing him from her thoughts, as well as keeping silence about him, had grown strong within her. At first Delia's scornful face often seemed to flash before her in the midst of some gaiety or enjoyment. "You are not worthy of him," it seemed to say. But it had been so often driven away that it now came very seldom, and when it did, it looked so pale and shadowy that it had no reality about it. Anna threw herself into the amusements which her new friends put in her way, and determined to be happy in spite of uncomfortable recollections.