ot
tell us? she heard them saying, and what could she answer? As she
thought of how much she had looked forward to this pleasure, a few tears
rolled down Anna's cheek, but they were not tears of repentance. She
was only sorry for her own disappointment, and because things did not go
smoothly. It was very hard, she said to herself, and the hardest part
was that she was forced continually into crooked ways. She did not want
to be deceitful; she would much rather be brave and open like Delia,
only things were too strong for her. As she thought this, Delia's face
seemed suddenly to appear before her: it did not look angry or scornful,
but had a gentle, almost pleading expression on it: she was speaking,
and what she said sounded quite clearly in Anna's ears: "Go back and
tell them now. Go back and tell them now," over and over again.

Anna stopped uncertainly, and turned her head to where, over the tops of
the trees, she could still catch a glimpse of the chimneys of Pynes: she
even took two or three steps up the hill again, the voice still sounding
entreatingly and loud. But now it was joined by another, louder and
bolder, which tried to drown it. This one told her that, after all,
there was no need. Things would go well. The Palmers might never know.
Soon they would go to Scotland, and after that--well, that was a long
way off. Anna turned again, this time with decision, and finished the
rest of her journey to Waverley almost at a run, without stopping to
think any more.

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 hard