"Oh, she does her best, she does her best," said the Professor, quickly; "I wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world." "Well, she won't improve at that rate," said Delia; "it's a good thing every one is not so patient as you are. Now"--surveying her arrangements--"I think it all looks very nice, and as I go home I'll call in at Mrs Cooper's and remind her about the fish. Perhaps I shall have time to bring you a few more flowers before Anna comes." Quite excited at the idea of the Professor's pleasure at having Anna all to himself for a little while, she quickly performed her errands, and finally left him in a state of complete preparation, with roses upon his table, and the trout cooking in the kitchen; he himself, stationed at the window, meanwhile pulling his watch out of his pocket every two or three minutes to see if it were time for his guest to arrive. During the week which followed, Delia thought more kindly of Anna than she had done for some time past. Perhaps, after all, she had judged her too hastily; perhaps she had been hard and unjust; very likely this meeting would be the beginning of a happier state of things between Mr Goodwin and his grandchild. "Did you have a pleasant evening on Saturday?" she asked, when they next met. Anna was sitting in the Palmers' pony-cart, outside a shop in the town, waiting for Isabel: she blushed brightly when she saw Delia, and looked rather puzzled at her question. "Where?" she said, vaguely. "Oh, I remember. I was to have had tea with grandfather, but aunt made another engagement for me, and I didn't go." Delia's face clouded over with the disapproving expression Anna knew so well. "He didn't mind a bit," she said, leaning forward and speaking earnestly. "He said another evening would do just as well for him." "I daresay he did," replied Delia, coldly. "And, you see, it was a cricket match at Holmbury," Anna continued, in an apologetic voice; "such a lovely place! and the Palmers offered to drive me, and another day wouldn't have done for that, and Aunt Sarah thought--" "Oh, naturally," said Delia, lightly, "the cricket match was far more important. And, of course, the Professor wouldn't mind. Why should he?" She nodded and passed on, just as Isabel came out of the shop. "Wasn't that Delia Hunt?" said Isabel, as she got into the pony-cart; "what is the matter? Her face looked like the sky when thunder is coming."