Why did not Anna come? As the weary hours went by, and the sun got lower and lower, he became very restless, looked first at his watch and then at the door, and no longer tried to conceal how much he wanted to see his grandchild. Delia tried in vain to divert his mind by reading his favourite books, but it was evident that he was not listening to her. He was listening for the click of the gate, and the footsteps outside. Every subject in which she tried to interest him came back to the same thing, Anna, and Anna's doings. Delia could not help one throb of jealous pain, as she recognised how powerless she was to take her place, a place she seemed to value so little. But it was only for one moment; the next she put all thought of herself aside. Anna belonged to the dearest memories of the Professor's life. She had a place in his heart which would always be kept for her, whatever she had done or left undone. To bring peace and comfort into his face again, Delia would have been willing at that moment to give up her own place in his affections entirely. If only Anna would come! "I suppose it's too late to expect her now, my dear, isn't it?" said the patient voice again. Delia could not bear it any longer. "I think," she said, as cheerfully as she could, "if you don't mind being alone a little while, I'll just run over to Waverley. Mrs Cooper's here, if you want anything, you know." "Will you really?" said the Professor, with hope in his voice. "There's perhaps been some mistake about that letter," said Delia. "You'd like to see Anna to-night, wouldn't you?" "Well, I _should_," said Mr Goodwin. "It's very absurd, I know, but I had such a strange dream just now about her and Prissy, and I can't get it out of my head. I suppose being not quite up to the mark makes one unreasonable, but I really don't think I could sleep without seeing her. It's very good of you to go, my dear." "I'll be back in no time, and bring her with me," said Delia. She spoke with confidence, but half-way across the fields she stopped her rapid pace, checked by a sudden thought--the picnic! In her anxiety she had forgotten it. Anna might have started before Dr Hunt's note got to Waverley. Even then, though, she said to herself, she must be home by now. So she ran on again, and half an hour later she was on her way back over the darkening fields--without Anna. She had gone to the picnic, and she knew the Professor was ill! Once Delia would have felt angry; now there was only room in her heart for one thought: "He will be disappointed, and he will not sleep to-night."