As the days went on without any further mention of Mr Goodwin, she began to hope that, after all, she might be able to go to the picnic. How should she find out? She had not courage to ask the Palmers, and though it would have been a simple matter to ask her grandfather himself, she shrank from facing him and his gentle kindliness just now. If only some visitor from Dornton would come over! This wish was at last realised in a very unexpected way, and one which was not altogether pleasant. It was the day on which her visit to Mr Goodwin was usually made, and she had begged her aunt to allow her to remain at home. The heat had given her a headache, and she would rather go to Dornton some other day. Mrs Forrest received the excuse indulgently. "I will call in and leave a message with Mr Goodwin," she said, "and you had better lie down quietly in your own room. By the time I get back you will be better, I hope." But Aunt Sarah had hardly been gone ten minutes before there was a knock at Anna's door: "Mrs Winn would like to speak to you, miss. I told her you were not well, but she says she will only keep you a few minutes." Anna did not know much of Mrs Winn, and thought, as she went down-stairs, that she had most likely some message for Mrs Forrest to leave with her. Would she say anything about the picnic, or the people who were going to it? Mrs Winn had taken up a determined position on a stiff, straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. There was severity in her glance as she replied to Anna's greeting, and remarked that she was sorry to miss Mrs Forrest. "Aunt Sarah's only just started to drive into Dornton," said Anna; "I wonder you did not meet her." "I came by the fields," replied Mrs Winn shortly. "You were not well enough to go out, I hear?" "I had a headache," said Anna, with her pretty blush; "aunt thought I had better stay at home." "You don't look much the worse for it," said Mrs Winn, without removing her unblinking gaze. "Girls in my young days didn't have headaches, or if they did, they put up with them, and did their duty in spite of them. Things are turned topsy-turvy now, and it's the old who give way to the young." Surprised at this tone of reproof, for which she was quite unprepared, Anna's usually ready speech deserted her. She said nothing, and hoped that Mrs Winn would soon go away. But that was evidently not her intention just yet: she had come prepared to say what was on her mind, and she would sit there until it was said. "But, perhaps," she continued, "it's just as well you didn't go out, for I've been wanting an opportunity to speak to you for some days." "To me?" said Anna, faintly. "I never shrink from my duty," went on Mrs Winn, "whether it's unpleasant or not, and I don't like to see other people doing so. Now, you're only a child, and when you neglect to do what's right, you ought to be told of it." Anna gazed in open-eyed alarm at her visitor. What could be coming?